My Mom

My dad was an aerospace engineer; my mom (who died last Sunday) was a "home maker" -- the mom-est mom ever. My dad knew, and knew how to do, everything: fix a sink, replace a water pump, build a camp, put a guy on the moon. He, like most dads, wanted the best for/from us, and instilled/inflicted his perfectionism in me. You didn't want to show anything to Dad unless/until it was perfect.

To Mom, on the other hand, *everything* we did, said, made, or bought was, by her definition, perfect. Everything she saw was, in her words, "the [adjective]-est [noun] you ever laid eyes on". Whatever we had to show or tell her about was the best one ever. New car, girlfriend, pocket knife, shirt, pair of shoes -- whatever it was, no matter how objectively good, bad, or ugly it was, it was the best one she'd ever seen.

You'd think that her seemingly non-critical assessments would make it easy to slack off, but it had the opposite effect on me. I wanted to make everything I made or did live up to her (even though guaranteed) high praise. And she loved to hear my stories, almost as much as I loved telling them to her.

Indeed, it seems like half the things I've done were just to be able to tell the story afterwards -- to my wife, friends, co-workers, but mostly my mom. She was always the best audience, and frequently made telling the story more fun than doing the thing.

And she was entirely the reason I started this blog. I didn't think anyone else would care, and the people close-by would hear the stories first hand. But my mom was far away, and in order to make sure she heard the stories, I started writing them down, if only to have reminders so I could tell them when I get to see her next. What I write, I write for her. As I'm typing, I'm talking to her. If anyone else reads them, that's just gravy.

She was, in her words, "not technical". When I started the blog, I made sure that the entries were automatically sent by email to my dad, who would print them out and let my mom read them on paper. When my dad died, I worked out a way to print them remotely on his printer, so she could hear the print noises and go in the office to find the latest post. (Each post (this one makes 759) is worked out three times -- the original, seldom visited but nicely formatted, searchable, and cataloged by date on http://y7alanzo.blogspot.com/; the text pasted into a Facebook "Note", poorly formatted and ugly, but more accessible to my friends; and a paper-sized, bigger pictures version in Word, printable for my mom, who kept them in a huge 3-ring binder.)

When her health started failing, I started wondering if I would keep the blog going once she wasn't around to read the stories. Now that that's happened, I'm thinking that probably I will. So far, it just seems like it's been a while since I've driven up to see her. But it feels like my best option to keep her around is to keep telling her these stories.

But I'm going to have to stop telling this one before the saltwater shorts out the keyboard. Thanks, Mom -- everybody says that theirs was the best mom ever, but you really were.

Pinewood Derby Cars

On the unexpected occasion of my 60th birthday, I thought I'd write up a few of my Stories, while I can still remember (or make up) a reasonable portion of them.

I joined the Indian Princesses with my daughters in 1996. Smartest thing my wife ever talked me into. I was reticent at first, but it turned out to be, most simply, a program that won't let you get away with forgetting to Do Things with your young daughters.

One of those Things was the annual Pinecar Derby. The first year Geneva and I built a car (1998, not shown), I tried to make it fast, as you do, and failed miserably. (My excuse: I tuned the car to go fast and straight on a laid-down mirror closet door -- a perfectly flat surface. When we got to the actual races, the track was old, crummy, and warped. On the first bump in the track, my rear-weighted car started oscillating back and forth all the way down, alternately scraping the track walls, and of course, losing speed.)

From then on I fell back on my strengths: design and workmanship. Each of these are completely original designs. The only hassle is that the rest of the guys expected me to outdo myself every year, and it got to be quite a burden...

1999: Mushu Firework Rocket - This is based, obviously, on the movie "Mulan" that had just come out. Because of the overall size, we threw away the block that came with the pinecar kit, and turned the whole thing on a lathe from a chunk of redwood 4x4. (We have pretty flexible rules in our Indian Princess group.)

I retained the original wheels, axles, screws and wheelbase dimensions, to be as fair as possible, even though we're not really there to win the race.

The "flames" at the back are just a bundle of ribbons, which were removed before the race. The Mushu on top is a birthday cake decoration.

It was a great project, and gave me a chance to teach my daughter a little about using a lathe, along with the usual sanding ("always with the grain!"), spray painting, masking, etc.

2000: Podracer - Another movie-based design, built right after "Star Wars Episode 1" came out. Frankly, I was surprised that no one else thought of it.

The pod itself is made of "Sculpey", which is like Play-Doh, but bakes up as hard as a rock. It's also very heavy, so the car only needed a tiny bit of lead.

The "engines" are some 3/4" dowel, with balsa wood fins, and a pink pipe cleaner for the electrical "zap" between them (we didn't have any purple). The original pine block was cut down and painted black to pretend that it's invisible. I put the baling wire front "bumper" on so that the car would sit against the starting block fairly.

2001: Matterhorn Bobsled - This is based on pictures of the old bobsled design from when I was a kid -- the current one wasn't as easy to mimic. We made two of these, one by and for each daughter.

This is the first design where it occurred to me to cut the pinecar block in half, and reassemble it with a piece of dowel. (The second was the Choo-choo.) You have to be really careful to get the two halves absolutely aligned, so the car will go straight. The horizontal drill press mode of my ShopSmith makes this reasonably feasible.

We found the little bears at a craft store. It was hard to cut their little legs off, what with them looking at me that way, but I had to get them into the holes. It's cool that they're articulated, so they can hold their hands up like real roller coaster riders do.

2002: Choo-Choo Train - This is Geneva's pinecar. The original block that came with the kit was cut in two, and put back together with a piece of dowel. This is, of course, a risky procedure, because if it's reassembled out-of-square, you'll never get it to go straight. Of course, we're not there to win the race, but we do want to make it to the bottom of the track.

The "coal" is some weird crystalline cat litter we had, glued to a piece of paper, and spray-painted black. It was just the right scale, but I guess rock salt or something would have worked.

The second set of wheels came from another kit, which is why they don't quite match. Only the ones with the silver hubs actually touch the ground. The "tank" is a piece of closet pole dowel. We turned the smokestack, gold "bell" thingie and the small front wheels on the lathe. The headlight is the remains of a big "snap".

It turned out to be too heavy, so the coal car is drilled almost to oblivion from the underside.

2002: Shoolbus - This is clearly the easiest design we've done, but it's what Acacia asked for, and since we had to build two cars in a short time, I took the break. To get enough height, I had to cut the original block down to get rid of the "driver's seat" indent that they cut into them, and glue the block from another kit onto it. The wheels from the second kit came in handy for the Choo-choo train.

One useful technique: the windows, bumpers and stripes are just electrician's tape -- it was easier than trying to paint them. The headlights are thumbtacks, and the taillights are red tape, cut out with a hole punch.

It was way overweight like the Choo-choo, so there are a lot of big drill holes in the bottom, where you can't see 'em.

2003: Caterpillar - When I asked Acacia what she wanted the car to be this year, she just said, "A caterpillar!" I don't know where she comes up with this stuff.

Anyway, I thought up a lot of different plans to accomplish a caterpillar, and finally decided that gluing balls together was the only way it would look right. I was about to try to turn the balls myself on the lathe, when it hit me that I might be able to buy them. We went to the craft store, and bought 7 maple "doll heads". They even already had one flat side. I flattened another side on 5 of 'em and thought I was home free.

Unfortunately, maple is *way* heavier than pine, so it was *way* over weight. I had to break the balls apart again, and try to hollow them out with a drill. I did the best I could, but we ended up having to run the race with the final ball removed.

We painted him all yellow, and sponge-painted the green. The nose is a little pom-pom, and the antennas are sparkly pipe-cleaners.

I hadn't really thought about the "platform" he was gonna stand on until the end, but the caterpillar turned out so cute that it seemed a shame to make him stand on a black square like the pod racer. I suddenly hit on the idea of giving him some leaves to crawl on, which wasn't as easy to do as it sounded -- but it was worth it. It's carved from the original pine block so I wouldn't have to worry about the wheelbase or axle alignment.

2004: Flying Whale - Another movie reference, though obscure. This is from the "Pines of Rome" sequence in "Fantasia 2000".

Acacia had the original request for just "a whale" -- I came up with the idea of making him fly up out of clouds. Originally the base would have just been "water", but everybody knows that the big whales can't jump entirely up out of the water.

The whale itself is hand carved from balsa, based on pictures downloaded from the web. We started out by cutting the basic profile and top view into the balsa with a coping saw, and finished rounding the body with a potato peeler. (This allowed 8-year-old Acacia to do the work without any danger to herself, or risk of large unfixable mistakes.) The fins and tail are from some 1/8" mahogany doorskin plywood scraps I had laying around.

After some Elmer's-and-water sanding sealer and spray painting the whole thing in white, we overpainted the whale with a little sponge, dabbing the paint on to produce the texture.

The base with the axles and wheels is the only part left of the original pine block. Since the whale is balsa, it's incredibly light, so I had to put a lot of lead on the bottom. Surprisingly, we did rather well in the race (possibly because all the weight was below the axle line?), until one of the lead pieces fell off, unnoticed until I got the car home. Ripped off!

2005: Trojan Unicorn -- Acacia, like many little girls, was into unicorns big-time, and had a huge collection. So it wasn't much of a surprise when I asked her what she wanted to build.

I first looked at rocking horses, but they're all in an odd (for a car) splayed-legs pose, and I was afraid to attempt a fully-carved, "realistic" horse. I also looked at carousel horses, which have better legs, but are still fully-carved. Trying to think of a way to "get away" with a more primitive (so easier-to-make) horse, I thought of the Trojan Horse. That reminded me of the two-story-tall Trojan Horse "toy" that makes the entrance of the F.A.O. Schwarz toy store in the Caesar's Mall in Las Vegas.

I found pictures of the original design for it, but since it was, again, fully-carved, I had to simplify it.

I based my proportions on the F.A.O. horse, but made the head bigger, 'cuz that makes it cuter. The hardest part was the neck-to-body joint, and then the neck-to-head joint. I just faked those until they worked.

The only problem with the F.A.O. design is that it's standing stock-still -- all four feet planted on the ground. I thought it need to look a little more "alive", since it's supposed to be moving, and I thought of Leonardo's planned (and recently (finally) built) Equestrian statue. I took the lifted front leg from him, but didn't think it would be strong enough if I lifted the back leg, too.

To build the parts, we glued the paper plan onto the balsa wood, and my daughter cut (way) outside the lines with a coping saw. Then we brought it to the line on the disk sander, which is a little scary for her, but not very dangerous at slow speeds. That way she got to do a lot of the work.

We left our version "wood colored" (clear lacquer) to help get the Trojan Horse idea across. The "dirt" is actually crushed walnut shells for use in terrariums. The unicorn is just screwed down to the base from the underside, so after the race it can join the rest of her collection.

2006: Yellow Submarine - When Acacia was in Middle School, she was the Beatles' biggest fan. She did her dress-up oral biography on Paul McCartney, dressed in my old Sergeant Pepper jacket. So naturally, she wanted a Yellow Submarine pinecar. (I was a big fan back in my day, and had a hand-made Submarine on my bedroom wall, so I jumped at the chance to build a "real" one.)

It was built essentially the same way as the whale from two years prior, carved out of a block of balsa. Acacia was less afraid of the sander, so she was able to get a lot closer to the finished shape before shifting to hand finishing.

I printed out the flower-like main window (?) and the little portholes with the Beatles in them on CD sticker paper from a picture I found. We used a new painting technique where you cover the regular paint with a spray-on clear coat, which also sealed the stickers down. I made the railing around the top out of some thick solder I had. And the red stripe is some pinstripe tape that I inexplicably had out in the garage.

I found an image of the "Sea of Holes", and expanded it to be big enough to cover the base. One hole is green -- the way out to the "Sea of Green". A short piece of a mini-blind closing wand made a good transparent support pylon.

Apparently Acacia was pretty proud of the result -- after the race, she took the base off and hung the submarine from the ceiling fan in the middle of her room.

Every year at the race, some of the dads would complain (either aloud or with sidelong glances) that my daughters' cars were not strictly "child-built". I never really got a chance to rebut that complaint by pointing out that the program was about "Father-Daughter" activities, and having your daughter build the kit while you watch the football game was even less in line with the spirit of the thing.

My take on it was that the race itself was a two hour event at the end of a three week idea, design, and build phase. That was where the real father-daughter interaction took place, even if it was just the dad doing the building while the daughter watched. Nobody's born knowing how to work a saw, an Xacto knife, power tools, or even sandpaper, so I took these opportunities to teach my daughters about designing for build-ability, and working with the tools and techniques needed. And with each car, they absolutely did as much as they were safely able to do, at whatever age they'd reached at the time. And the parts they couldn't do, they watched and learned about so maybe they could do those parts next year.

Did I step in to make sure that their experience was good, and that their projects turned out well? Sure. That's what dads do.

Renaissance Faire -- 06May2012

Two years ago, Acacia fell in love with the Ren Faire, as I knew she would, and this year she put together a van full of kids, and then some, for a full-on expedition. We left at 7:30am to pick up kids in Costa Mesa, Huntington, and Long Beach, on our way to make the Opening Ceremony in Irwindale.

Everyone was in costume -- even the boys -- but that's as you'd expect of OCHSA kids. Acacia's musical genius boyfriend, Reid, brought along his tenor recorder which we hung around his neck with some twine like it was a sword. He even had use of it when he jumped right in with some street music people in the afternoon, despite never having heard those tunes before.

The weather was perfect, and we practically had the place to ourselves for the first half of the day. The layout of the place had changed from the two years before -- a new "Golden Jubilee" stage was added for this 50th anniversary Faire, and some of the other stages moved, upgraded, and up-sized. They also addressed my biggest complaint (that the Faire was one long serpentine track that you had to wander into, and then all the way back out of) by cutting some paths through at the tops of the loops, so you can take the shortcuts when you're tired and ready to go home.

A new feature of the Faire this year is a group called "The Fantastikals", which are "fae, nymphs, fairies and spirits". They were several girls with elaborate makeup and costumes, scattered around the Faire, acting "mystical". They never talk, and don't directly interact with anyone. Acacia was enthralled, and desperately wants to "be one" next year. She might have a chance, too -- they were all tall, slender, and pretty, and their main requirement/skill is acting aloof and kinda strange. No problem!

Because of the lack of crowds, we were able to see most of the artisan booths before lunch. The kids could just walk up and see what they wanted to see, and they (and I, as The Dad for the day) could keep track of each other and not get separated and lost.

We went back to the van for lunch, and as I swung around to get back out, the backside of my ancient khaki pants split wide open. The cloth was just dissolving, and I'd already fixed several split-open spots the day before. Indeed, I'd *almost* been clever enough to bring a backup pair of pants, but forgot. I borrowed Acacia's apron, and just tied it around my waist backwards. She was actually somewhat relieved to be rid of some of the mountain of cloth she was carrying around in her three layers of skirting. It was a bit strange of a wardrobe feature, to have a "train" hanging out from under my shirt in the back, but less attention-getting at The Faire than anywhere else I can think of...

After lunch, we ran into an Elizabethan lady's man in the street. He proceeded to flatter and woo each of the girls (and Reid!) with hand-kissing and Shakespearean compliments, to much amusement of the rest of the kids. He was very good -- smooth but not too sleazy, comically forward, but not so much that it scared the girls away. Give that man a raise.

After that, we looked up some shows. First was a reunion of "Cock and Feathers", the most famous troupe/show from the early days of the Faire, back when we used to go in the 70's. The old guys still had it, but the venue was noisy so you couldn't hear the jokes, puns, and double-entendres that make the show unless you were in the first 3 or 4 rows, which we weren't. A few of the kids wandered off at that point, but the rest of us stayed, and afterward saw a great one-man show with Will Shakespeare himself recapping the story of "Hamlet" in everyday modern terms (who knew that Rosencrantz sounds exactly like Keanu Reeves?). Really well-done, funny, and incidentally educational -- I had never really grasped the whole complicated story there before.

After that, we saw "Moonie", who was just as funny the 4th time as the first, despite the show being identical, year after year. After that, the kids wanted to do some more shopping, and after a while I left them alone to go see the "Dread Crew of Oddwood" band. They're what a heavy metal band would have been in pirate days, singing about pillaging, looting, plank-walking, etc. Really great, rowdy, cacophonous, banging and bellowing stuff.

I went back and found the kids, and walking past, we were drawn in by "Paleo Circa", an anachronistically amplified but rockin' fiddle-tune dance band. The girls were swept up in the rhythms, and danced with glee, dragging the boys along. One of those terrific, "Only at the Faire" kinds of moments.

I finally managed to herd the group back into the van, stopped and bought them some dinner on the way home, deposited them all back at their respective houses, and got ourselves home a little after 9:00. Quite a day -- I'm in to do it again next year!

P.S. Lots more pictures -- click here.

Geneva Goes Hang Gliding -- 17Aug2010

We finally got the chance to make good on the Birthday Present promise to take Geneva hang gliding. The Present/promise was delivered on her 18th birthday back in December, but we were waiting for good flying weather -- and since summer's almost over and we were on our way out to Palm Springs for a few days' vacation, it was the perfect chance.

The idea occurred to me because, of the few things she's let me read of her Creative Writing stuff, half of them feature "girls with wings". Seemed to be a big fantasy of hers, and this seemed like the closest I could come to fulfilling it.

The hang gliding guy operates out of San Bernardino -- you basically drive up the mountain, jump off, and land back down in the flatlands. The "flight" is really "Lesson 1", and after 2 or 3, you're ready (if you're *ready*) to fly one solo. As much as she'd like it to, it's probably not gonna become a real hobby for Geneva, but it's still more interactive as a "lesson" than just as a "ride".

So, we showed up at the landing site, and the guy took Geneva away for an hour or so, and we finally spotted a tiny white wing up above the mountain. We watched it circle and glide around for half an hour, until they swooped in and dropped right back down, standing up, no running required. Pretty impressive.

She had a terrific time, of course, though afterwards she said that she was getting a little airsick up there. She was too proud to tell the guy about it, though. And despite that, she'd do it again in a heartbeat, I'm sure.

(Click any image for bigger version.)

"Captain Eo Tribute" at Disneyland -- 05Mar2010

We went to Disneyland to check out the "Captain Eo" movie that they revived because of Michael Jackson's death. Actually, it's billed as a "Captian Eo" *Tribute*, which I guess means that this is not the real Michael Jackson, but a impersonator. He sure looked like the real one though, and I'd'a bet it was really him, until he delivered his first uber-dramatic line, "We're going in!", and it was dubbed in by a 10-year-old girl -- probably Dakota Fanning. That kind shattered the illusion.

Anyway, Michael/Dakota is the pilot of a little egg-shaped ship, with a crew of robots stolen from that lame "Wizard of Oz" sequel, a two-headed muppet, an untidy blue elephant (cast to deliver the requisite amount of vaguely not-quite-fart jokes), and a cute little flying thing with a human-wrist-shaped blank spot where he sits.

They get yelled at by Admiral Bushy-brows over Princess Leia's video phone, who tells them to go fly through some recycled Death Star tunnels to find a green "beacon" light, despite their actual goal being the Wicked Witch of the West's "throne room", where she's gotten herself tangled up in a bunch of industrial tubing that's inexplicably dangling from the ceiling. She's been up there so long that her fingernails are four inches long, and she's pretty grumpy about it.

Michael/Dakota and crew show up and she immediately tries to throw them in the dungeon, but they insist on putting on a show first. Queen Giger-Makeup can't really stop them, since she's still stuck to the ceiling, and her guards keep getting their half-a-mile-of-industrial-tubing costumes turned into brightly-colored shredded Flashdance Lycra by some rainbow beams that inexplicably come from a few inches left-and-above of Michael's palms, like he's some kind of fabulous-costume-and-makeup spewing gay Spiderman.

But he's not, he's Tribute to Michael Jackson, so he gets all the newly-costumed Not-Zombies into a Not-a-Triangle diamond-shaped arrangement, and does a Not-the-Thriller dance, to a hoppin' beat laid down by Gumby versions of his robot friends who have transformed into a set of self-playing metal drums, a synth played by the Flatulephant, and Spock's stand-up bass played by the rear-end-less flying butterfly-monkey. The theater itself tries to get in on the action, thumping the seats up and down just a quarter beat off the actual rhythm.

Queen Cargo-Net-Accident is apparently even more sick of Michael's crotch-thrusts than the rest of us, so she starts screaming and swinging back and forth in her nightmare-hammock, until Michael send out one more blast of Gay Power from his almost-palms, which transforms her steam-factory palace into a Greek temple, breaks her down from the ceiling, and turns her into Aurora, Bringer of the Dawn from Fantasia.

This was apparently Michael/Dakota's mission from the beginning -- bringing Fabulousness to the non-Fabulous -- so he gathers up his de-transformed crew/band, and while misusing the definite article in the first decipherable lyrics of the whole show, departs with "We are here to chaaaaange the wuuuuurld".

Fortunately, this Star Wars/Thriller mash-up/rip-off was perpetrated by the actual rights-holders of those properties, so lawsuits don't ensue as Michael/Dakota flies off in his Space-Combi into a twinkling starfield.

We're really rockin' now!

We've been having way too much fun with "The Beatles: Rock Band" since I got it for my birthday. And spending way too much money on it, too. I "invested" my unexpected windfall tips of two weeks ago on a set of drums and the optional cymbal kit, which arrived yesterday.

We played with it for a little while without the cymbals, and all three girls are better at it, from the get-go, than I am. But I'm getting the hang of it. And once I added the cymbals (which really just substitute for the pads, but are more "realistically" placed), it's really fun. You really do feel like a drummer, especially when there's a recognizable "pa-dum-dum, pish!" sequence that you nail.

Anyway, Daleen won't play guitar or sing, but she seems to like the drumming, so we may have ourselves a four-part family band going, with drums, guitar, bass, and a singer. Pretty cool!

Cruisin' to Mexico -- 7/26-8/2 2009

I'm not gonna try to document the whole week's vacation, but here are some impressions...

First off, for a country whose day and nightime temperature is always about two hundred, and whose humidity needs to be written in scientific notation, they have an alarming lack of Mountain Dew. 'Nuff said.

The ship is, frankly, astounding. I will give them that. I'm amazed at the audacity it took to decide to build something that big and that complex, and get away with it so well. But it comes off mainly as a Vegas hotel/casino with very low ceilings (much to the delight of the adolescent "Look! I can touch the ceiling!" boys).

And it's got gaudy on its gaudy. They apparently had decorators come in, and then had other decorators come in to decorate the decorations.

Anyway, the cruise takes you down to Puerto Vallarta for a day, then Mazatlan, then Cabo San Lucas. You can get off the boat and shop at the unique little shops to be found at each one:

Puerto Vallarta

Mazatlan

Cabo San Lucas

But, it turns out that I already have as many dirty joke and/or alcohol dependency T-shirts, brightly painted ceramic iguanas, serapes, pre-aged cowboy hats, hand carved running horses and fish, and, for that matter, blue diamonds and Rolex watches, as I need.

That's OK, we all had a really great time, on the boat and off. Nobody got sick, and there was always plenty to do, or not do.

The kids joined the 15-17 teen "club" (although Acacia's only 14), and hung out with the other teens most of the time -- dancing (or whatever) 'til 3, sleeping 'til noon. We're not normally the "set 'em loose" kinda parents, but they couldn't get lost or abducted, couldn't run out of money, and couldn't starve, so it seemed OK to just let 'em do their thing. We saw them every night at the mandatory 6:00 dinnertime, and ran into 'em occasionally around the boat, so we kept in touch, somewhat. And of course, they joined us for the shore trips.

Without 'em, we swam a little, relaxed a lot, saw some movies, watched the karaoke (I sang twice), and there was always musicians for me to go watch, scattered around the boat. To keep the band sizes (and pay) down, there's a lot of singing to MIDI tracks going on, but there was one guy (Bruce) that played (12-string) guitar, and sang over it, very similar to what I do, so he was the most interesting it watch.

I ran into him in one of the lounges, late one night on a break, and we got to talking about playing and audiences, repertoire, and such. After a while, he said, "Gee, it's too bad you don't have your guitar -- I'd like to jam with you." I told him I *did* have my guitar, and he said, "Go get it!"

I tried to play songs that he could join in on, but the songs that I think are "impressive" are always somehow "tricky", so he was pretty lost most of the time. But he was enjoying it anyway, as were the dozen or so people scattered around the lounge, who were clapping and whooping it up. One (apparently well-lubricated) guy shouted out, "Hey! You're good!", and later, "You're fired, Bruce!" to big laughter. I hate to say it was the highlight of my trip, but it kinda was.

Anyway, we all had a great time -- clearly the best vacation we've had in a while. It's cool that you don't have to "travel" to go places, and that you just drive to Long Beach, and you're on vacation already. When we went to Disney World, there's the pain of at least a day of traveling, twice, with the actual vacation in the middle. This eliminates that hassle. Admittedly, Mexico isn't my favorite place to visit, but it's the voyage, not the destination, right?

I've posted some pictures -- I know, what's more boring than other peoples' vacation pictures, but it's a gallery of thumbnails, and you only have to click the ones that look interesting, and I won't be there to have hurt feelings if you just scan through 'em. Check it out, here.

Duffy, Apparently Cured!

The results came back from the lab, and they're pretty sure they got all of the cancer when they cut out the big tumor from Duffy's neck a couple of weeks ago. The 4-inch long cut up his chest and throat (17 stitches) is healing up really well, and the fur is growing back to cover it up. He's happy and doing just great. He still doesn't want to go crazy-romping through the house with the younger girl dogs, but he's too dignified for that kind of nonsense anyway...

I'm "For Sale" again!

It's time for the annual auction to support the art programs at Geneva's high school, and since it worked out OK last year, we donated "An evening of music" (i.e., me, playing at your party) again. Last year, the minimum bid was $75, and one lady bid on me, and won. I guess the only thing more embarrassing than only getting one bid is not getting any bids.

Oddly though, this year they combined my donation with two others, a 12-pack of Cabernet, and a $100 gift card at an Italian restaurant. They're calling it "Insta-party... just add guests!" The Opening Bid is $150, which may or may not be the minimum ("reserve") winning bid -- experts disagree. If somebody can actually win the prize with a $150 bid, though... Seems like the $100 gift card is worth, say, about $100. And the wine's gotta be worth at least $50. That means that the guitar guy is worth exactly zip. Thrown in for free. Thanks for playing, here's your parting gift.

To illustrate the "item", they captured some pictures from the Keith & Warren webpage (including the partial image of Warren's guitar), and pasted on pictures of some lasagna and a wine bottle. Classy stuff.

It's been "open" for a little over 48 hours now, and they sent an email to everyone they know. So far, no bids. Seems to me like they priced the "package" out of range, and there won't be any bids. Suits me -- playing parties is always kind of weird (last year was a backyard pool party, kind of awkward really). If it doesn't sell at all, it's no loss for me -- I fulfilled my obligation to donate something -- but what are they gonna do with the other stuff?

Duffy Cured?

Probably a year ago, our dog Duffy was diagnosed with nerve sheath cancer, which was showing up as a lump on the front of his neck. He's 10, and the doctor said he had probably a year to live, and that cancer treatments for dogs are just like cancer treatments for people -- just as painful, and just as expensive. We reluctantly decided to just let it go, and not run him (and our budget) through the suffering of trying to postpone the inevitable.

But when Daleen took him in for a checkup two weeks ago, the doctor was surprised to find that the tumor had grown out, and not in like they "always" do. And that meant that we might be able to just cut that thing out of there and be done with it.

Unfortunately, with Duffy it's not that simple, 'cuz he has a doggie equivalent of hemophilia. But they gave him some plasma to kick up his clotting, and cut the tumor out yesterday, and it seems to be pretty OK. When we picked him up yesterday evening, he was good and ready to get out of that scary place, but he seems perky and good. His neck's all shaved, of course, where it's supposed to be his big fluffy ruff, but it'll grow back.

We're not out of the woods yet, 'cuz there's a risk if internal bleeding (especially in Mr. Hemo Dog), so we'll have to keep an eye on him -- and keep the puppy away! But if that snagged all of the cancer, I guess he's "cured". We sure didn't expect *that*!

Adventures in String Changing

After I installed the new pickup in my guitar, I was putting on the new strings. I usually do that sitting on the bed, 'cuz it's easiest to hold the guitar with it standing on the floor between my knees. Anyway, I had 4 strings installed, and the tools and 2 remaining new strings are spread out around me on the bed, when Bonnie and the "puppy" Annabelle (she's now bigger than either of the two adult dogs) come romp/tussling in, as they do constantly, unless they're asleep. They look just like that comic strip "fight" where it's just a spinning dust cloud with hands and legs sticking out of it.

Anyway, they tumble around for a while, and take off again, romping down the hall. I try to get back to work, but when I look for the next string, there's one missing. I look around the bed, next to the bed, under the bed. Spreading the search out -- bathroom, hallway. Turns out it's on the floor in the office, at the plumb other end of the house.

Jeez. Only in my house do you have to hire security just to change your guitar strings...

Disneyland -- 02Jan2009

I wanted to go to Disneyland one last time before they de-Christmas it, including the newly-re-opened Small World Holiday. The kids had made other plans, and are, incredibly, burned out on Disneyland, so Daleen and I went without 'em.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be a surprise cold snap day, and we froze to death. The crowds were not-too-bad. We did Small World first, and then wandered into the re-done and re-opened (for the zillionth time) Sleeping Beauty's Castle. They've added the floating-in-space video technology that they're using in the new Finding Nemo-ized Submarine ride to have short loops from the movie in the little alcove scenes. Pretty cool -- and I'm still totally mystified about how they do that.

We also went over to California Adventure to see the "What we're up to" exhibit where they're showing off the plans to rebuild big chunks of the park. It's pretty neat, but I'm a little concerned that they've fallen into a habit of adding "Lands" that are purely based around a single movie. They already have "Bug's Life" Land, and they're adding "Cars" Land. They never did that in the old Disney days -- a Land had some kind of generic theme, and featured attractions tied to that theme, whether or not they tied into some sell-able Disney property. There was no "Tom Sawyer" plush as you got off of his island. And no character tie-in for the Flying Saucers or Mission to Mars...

But the character-fication of Disneyland has been intensifying for years now. In the old days, they could build a ride just to be fun -- rides were just rides, not vehicles to sell more branded merchandise. But now, every ride has to have a (or several) character tie-ins.

Anyway, we also went on Daleen's favorite ride, "Soaring Over California", and the new "Toy Story Mania" (more characters!). The lines were kinda long, and it never warmed up much, so we came on home in the afternoon. It was kinda pleasant, without the kids...