the older i get

the more that things like this bother me.

Someday, when I get the inspiration, I'm going to have to tackle politics again.

fader

fader, originally uploaded by pr9000.

The title of this post kind of represents my feelings on trying to sell my beloved Beetle. In short, it's not going too well ... only one call, but it was a promising call -- the guy was eager, liked the features (including that it's a standard), his fiancée already had a red Beetle, and he scheduled a visit for later that afternoon.

Then he called back -- could he reschedule for tomorrow afternoon? He wanted to bring his fiancée. Fine, we said, no problem, all the while thinking this one was in the bag ... if he's bringing his wife-to-be, this could only be a good thing.

Later that evening his fiancée called; apparently it was (1) too far out of their budget, and (2) not exactly a good idea to have two Beetles in the family.

Damn women. Always fucking things up for us guys. :)

***

tired (b/w), originally uploaded by pr9000.

So this young man has been one of my main inspirations with the camera lately. In case he ever tells you otherwise, his is not exactly the roughest life.

interesting ...

I didn't know there was a season. Oh well.

this, too, can be yours

originally uploaded by pr9000.

Get yourself a Rickenbacker 360/6 ... barely used.

hey hey/ho ho/limited return on electronics items/has got to go

I know Lileks likes strawmen, etc., but his recap of the Minneapolis anti-war protests had the funny gem to the left.

bye bye

bye bye, originally uploaded by pr9000.

After seven years of use, my beloved Beetle is on the market.

It's served me well over that time, though at first I didn't want it. Amina and I went to the Autohaus in Evanston, Ill., because I wanted a VW, and because I loved that name -- "das Autohaus." I think it was the "haus" part that got me; it sounded so authentic, as though the Teuton hordes invaded Evanston and set up a little bit of Bavaria, right on Lake Michigan.

I wanted to get a stripped-down Golf, but she talked me into looking for something that might have a little more pizazz and creature comforts. We lucked into this Beetle, and as crazy as it seemed for me to be making car payments while living in a 700-square-foot apartment, we drove it home, down Green Bay Road, on a rainy Tuesday night in November 2000. I don't know that we had elected a president yet, but I do know that I burned a CD of songs -- I wanted the first songs played on the radio to be ones that meant something to me.

(The disc started out with "Homer's Barbershop Quartet," from "The Simpsons," followed by "No Matter What" by Badfinger. I can't remember the rest, but I still have the CD in the car.)

We took the car to St. Louis (see here and here) and it served admirably, though we did have some issues with those goddamn squirrels running hither and yon, using the Beetle as a staging ground for their raids on the bird food. It was a great car for St. Louis -- hell, it was a great car for Chicago as well. It was cute, our house was cute, we were cute ... it all went together.

Once we got to Minneapolis, I leaned heavily on the local bus system to get me to work downtown, and I think the Beetle began to feel a little neglected. Amina showed it less and less love, mainly because it's a stick and that made it harder for her to drive. And even though it's a tank in the snow, we went the SUV route to fit in with our fellow Minnesotans.

Now it's time for the Beetle to go to its next owner. I'm sure that person will treat it well; for me, I'll be sad to see it go. It's been a big part of my life for seven years, and looking at it reminds me of when I fell in love with my wife, and our lives together since then. But all things must pass, as George Harrison wrote.

Someone please buy the damn car, okay?

food for thought

Eventually, the whole “screen vs. reality” divide becomes obviously absurd. One night, while I’m waiting in line at Austin’s popular Amy’s Ice Cream with a group of attendees, several of them present their digital cameras and mobile devices and aim them at the ice cream flavor board. As I witness this, I wonder if they are all incapable of experiencing anything without placing an LCD screen between themselves and the world. Upon forming this thought, I congratulate myself for being such an incisive social critic. Then I quietly brood while everyone else enjoys ice cream.

90 Million Strong, revisited

90 Million Strong, originally uploaded by AxsDeny.

NFL Network aired an "America's Game" show about the 1974 Pittsburgh Steelers the other night. This was the first Steelers' team to win a Super Bowl, and was the start of a run of four championships in six years -- and the start of a lifelong fascination with this team for a lot of us who grew up in or around Pittsburgh.

This is from an email thread between me (in Roman) and Sean Duffy (in italics).

Duffy: I just watched America's Game about the 1974 Steelers and I cried throughout--pretty much every time Joe Greene spoke. What a great show. I was reminded of why Joe Greene is one of my heroes. Franco and Russell did a great job too. But when Joe described being in the "zone" only one time in his 13 year career -- and that coming against the Raiders in the playoffs in '74, I was blubbering. Does that make me less of a man? Great, great television. God help me, I loved that team.

Me: I got choked up when Andy Russell talked about giving the trophy to The Chief. Seriously.

So if it makes you less of a man, then so am I.

And you know, the more I think about it, the more I realize what a great team that was. I love 'em too -- today's Steelers not so much. I root for them, I'm passionate about them, but I don't have that emotional connection the way I do with those 70s teams.

Duffy: It's true. There was something special about those guys -- the way they got Noll, for example. Modern players might not get it. Though Dungy is a Noll protege and his players seem to get him for the most part. Still, these days I feel like i'm rooting for a jersey, with a few notable exceptions: Hines, Bus, Troy. But Joe Greene, Franco, Stallworth, Ham, Lambert, Russell, Blount, Webster, even guys like Banazak and Kolb -- come on, those guys were special.

Me: I think part of the reason I like them so much is that it was a simpler time in the NFL; I can't admire the Patriots machine nearly as much because the NFL is so overexposed. I mean, if Brady had an Italian army like Franco, you know some publicist would arrange with Sinatra's people to have him show up at a gathering that would be sponsored by Budweiser, Dodge Ram trucks and Levitra. But when the chairman of the board decides he wants to be part of Franco's Italian Army ... well, it just happened, or at least happened with far less artifice and marketing tie-ins than today.

Another reason: nostalgia for a time when living in that area meant a good job, neighborhoods, etc. I'm not just talking Pittsburgh, either ... the Valley was a good place to raise a family, a man could find decent work for a decent wage, etc. Those times are as gone as '79 Steelers, and probably will never return. It makes me sad, and strangely enough I thought of it while reading an op-ed piece in the Maui News last week. Several 18-year-olds were interviewed about their prospects for jobs in Hawaii, and all of them said that they would love to return home and make their livings where they grew up, but that economic realities on the islands make that impossible.

It really sounded familiar, but for different reasons ...

Duffy: You're right about the hype. That's why I enjoy mixed pairs badminton these days -- no hype, just shuttlecocks and sweat.

-- "Those times are as gone as '79 Steelers, and probably will never return.."

That's what they said about Ireland, my friend.

btw, "if Brady had an Italian army like Franco?"

Remember Steve Young's 'Dobre shunka?' Weird Polish Mormons.

Me: I couldn't figure out what "Brady" is ... Irish? I can't tell these things very well.

Duffy: Yes. He's Irish. Lace curtain Irish.

Me: What does that mean?

Duffy: Well Grasshopper, the "lace curtain Irish" were the immigrants who were successful financially. The poor "bog Irish" immigrants often regarded them as sellouts, or at the least, "soft."

Me: Tom Brady? Soft? He's as hard as steel, clutch as ... uh ... whatever is "clutch."
I kind of got myself into a corner with that analogy there.

Duffy: Which analogy -- Tom Brady's Italian army or Tom Brady's clutch of steel? Either way, I smell a man crush.

fletcher getting the sun

fletcher getting the sun, originally uploaded by pr9000.

mama breach

mama breach, originally uploaded by pr9000.

Maui (not so) waui

originally uploaded by pr9000.

In Minneapolis, Mother Nature is screwing over the entire Midwest.

In Maui, Mother Nature is screwing me over by raining for hours and hours while the top was down on our car.

Now the car is extremely clean, but it probably smells like a mushroom forest in there.

So the weather hasn't exactly been great here; we're on the northern tip of Maui and it seems like we're in the path of a bunch of rain clouds and high, heavy winds. Seriously -- the first two days here felt a lot like Minnesota in late September, which as you can imagine isn't exactly nice ... nicer than two feet of snow, of course, but still, not what you'd expect in a tropical paradise.

When you drive south about 10 minutes, toward Lahaina, the weather magically changes: warmer, less breezy, almost hot. It's very odd. You can almost pinpoint the exact mile marker where the change happens.

This photo, along with a whole bunch of others, was taken as we drove north toward Poelua Bay ... my lovely wife's manager and I had a boys' day off. It involved much photography, and at least one harrowing trip down volcanic soil, toward a secluded beach that you couldn't even see from the road.

Now my feet hurt, my sandals are deeply worn (of course I didn't wear good shoes) ... and a good time was had by all. It was the way I wanted to spend the day, which is good, because vacations don't always work as a "one destination, two agendas" kind of event. In this case, my lovely wife had a day with the girls, and I had a nerd-a-thon with the boys.

hungry

hungry, originally uploaded by pr9000.

We were on Highway 30, heading north from Kapalua. Around a blind turn we were forced to stop by a group of donkeys -- they'd commandeered both lanes of traffic and were going from car to car, looking for food.