Yesterday I was babysitting a four-year-old neighbor who was really excited to show me the pet fish on her nightstand. She held my hand and led me to the tank, where I saw a beautiful purple beta, floating upside down at the top. Faith was looking right at it too, but she was just chatting away about having her own pet in her room and how often she has to feed it.
"How's it doing," I asked cautiously.
"Really good!" she said.
I didn't have the heart to tell her how wrong she was.
Then today I saw this video, which sort of makes me wish I could have been there when she learned the truth, just in case something this adorable had happened next.
Remember: This girl is not my neighbor. Different dead fish.
31 March 2009
09 March 2009
Dart This!
Everyone has had a first car. That is, of course, unless you've never owned a car. For the sake of this post, let's assume that you have.
Some first cars are completely boring. If your first car was a new car, most likely it did not fulfill the requirements of the fabled 'first car.' What are the requirements of a first car, you ask? Well, I've made a list of what I think are a few guidelines in determining the quality of a first car.
1. First cars are completely dependable, though in cold weather they may have to be parked on a hill to start them.
2. First cars are perfect in any way. How the design of the dents seem to follow some Pythagorean algorithm, how the rust spots tend to look like deceased relatives, and how the rips in the seats are perfect for holding a wallet and/or cell phone: all perfect.
3. First cars, like most nice things and works of art, vary in color and texture, as numerous professional quality touch-ups run the length of the vehicle.
4. First cars are not only for transportation. They are havens and retreats for the afflicted, the oppressed, and the 17-year-old loser and his loser friends.
5. First cars are closely connected with first bands.
My second first car, though not as classic or whimsical, was just as epic as my first, if not more so. It was a 1988 Lincoln Town Car. It truly was a luxury vehicle. It had air conditioning and a radio: both upgrades from my previous vehicle. It also had an automatic trunk, with a little electronic retractable latch that pulled it down tight, so I didn't have to put too much effort into closing it. It had leather seats, a glow-in-the-dark thermometer, and automatic headlights that switched between bright and dim based on ambient light. This car took over for my senior year in high school, and lasted all the way to the very end of my junior year of university (and I mean VERY end).
The night before our senior registration, four friends and I almost got arrested in this car. I've been pulled over in this car more times than most people have been pulled over in their life. Why? Stereotypes and vehicle profiling. I got this car at about 60,ooo, and got to take it past the 100,000 mile mark. This car was epic, I tell you. Oh, and that huge bump by the post office? 'Nuff said. Even its death was epic. On my way home for the summer after my junior year of college, with all of my belongings packed in and hanging off of the car, it broke down. But not just broke down. I mean, I was driving down the highway, about 30 minutes out of Fayetteville, and stuff started falling out from under it. Apparently, it had something to do with the transmission. Anyways, some very strange man and wife wrecker team came and picked me up in Alma, after I spent 4 hours laying hands on my car, anointing my car with holy oil, and eating Geno's Pizza-By-The-Slice, and took me home. Epic. It's name was Esmerelda.
Me & Esmerelda, breaking 100,000
Rollin' them zeros
Some first cars are completely boring. If your first car was a new car, most likely it did not fulfill the requirements of the fabled 'first car.' What are the requirements of a first car, you ask? Well, I've made a list of what I think are a few guidelines in determining the quality of a first car.
1. First cars are completely dependable, though in cold weather they may have to be parked on a hill to start them.
2. First cars are perfect in any way. How the design of the dents seem to follow some Pythagorean algorithm, how the rust spots tend to look like deceased relatives, and how the rips in the seats are perfect for holding a wallet and/or cell phone: all perfect.
3. First cars, like most nice things and works of art, vary in color and texture, as numerous professional quality touch-ups run the length of the vehicle.
4. First cars are not only for transportation. They are havens and retreats for the afflicted, the oppressed, and the 17-year-old loser and his loser friends.
5. First cars are closely connected with first bands.
Though not possible, in some ways, I feel like I had two first cars. My first first car was a 1965 Dodge Dart that my dad and brother surprised me with when I was 14 (or 15?). It had some problems, but I still remember the night before my 16th birthday. My dad and I lay in pools of very-viscous fluid as we dropped the transmission, replaced the clutch, and fixed the brakes. We worked until at least 2 a.m. getting it ready to drive the next morning, and we even took it out that night just so I could get a feel for the three-on-the-tree shifting again. The trunk became the closet of my teenage life. It held guitar amps, french horns, and lots of other things so I would always be prepared. Eventually, though, we had to put it down. Brake problems. It was the perfect first car, and I am very thankful for it. Here are some pictures of cars that look exactly like my first car; regretfully, I don't have any of my own. It's name was Johnny 5. 
My second first car, though not as classic or whimsical, was just as epic as my first, if not more so. It was a 1988 Lincoln Town Car. It truly was a luxury vehicle. It had air conditioning and a radio: both upgrades from my previous vehicle. It also had an automatic trunk, with a little electronic retractable latch that pulled it down tight, so I didn't have to put too much effort into closing it. It had leather seats, a glow-in-the-dark thermometer, and automatic headlights that switched between bright and dim based on ambient light. This car took over for my senior year in high school, and lasted all the way to the very end of my junior year of university (and I mean VERY end).
The night before our senior registration, four friends and I almost got arrested in this car. I've been pulled over in this car more times than most people have been pulled over in their life. Why? Stereotypes and vehicle profiling. I got this car at about 60,ooo, and got to take it past the 100,000 mile mark. This car was epic, I tell you. Oh, and that huge bump by the post office? 'Nuff said. Even its death was epic. On my way home for the summer after my junior year of college, with all of my belongings packed in and hanging off of the car, it broke down. But not just broke down. I mean, I was driving down the highway, about 30 minutes out of Fayetteville, and stuff started falling out from under it. Apparently, it had something to do with the transmission. Anyways, some very strange man and wife wrecker team came and picked me up in Alma, after I spent 4 hours laying hands on my car, anointing my car with holy oil, and eating Geno's Pizza-By-The-Slice, and took me home. Epic. It's name was Esmerelda.
Me & Esmerelda, breaking 100,000
Rollin' them zeros What was your first car, and what was it like?
24 February 2009
From the Desk of El Mister
The following is a post from the blog I have set up for my classes, where I post announcements, dates of tests, and the occasional surprise extra credit assignment. We are studying expansion to the West in my U.S. History classes, and I could think of nothing more fitting than this. Maybe you'll get some joy out of it too, though I can't promise any extra credit in this economy.
Oregon Trail--8th & 11th Grades
So, when I was in 7th grade, I couldn't wait for Thursdays, because that was the day we went to the computer lab. Of course, the computer lab was not anything like it would be today: we didn't even have internet. But, we did get to do things like type our names, make banners with our names on them, or turn the computer on and off and on again.
Not only did we get to type seven letters at a time and get to push "the" button, we also got to play awesome games. No, not games like GTA 4, Tiger Woods 2009, or Shadow of the Colossus. These were good games. Classic games. Games with horrible graphics, and an educational theme. Games like MathBlaster, WordBlaster, DinoPark Tycoon, and I believe a universal favorite: Oregon Trail.
Oregon Trail is awesome, simple, and very educational. Believe it or not, everyone my age used to love playing Oregon Trail. For this reason, I'm going to make you play Oregon Trail. For extra points.
Here are the rules: follow the link at the bottom of this post to play the game. You can't use a mouse, because we didn't have those back then, so you control everything by typing stuff in. Play the game, see how far you can get without everyone dying, then leave a comment on this post with your Name, Grade, Section, and your high score and final position in the game.
Here's a hint: hunt a lot, fjord the rivers, and start out with more than 50 pounds of food.
CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE BEST COMPUTER GAME EVER!!!!!!!!!
Oregon Trail is awesome, simple, and very educational. Believe it or not, everyone my age used to love playing Oregon Trail. For this reason, I'm going to make you play Oregon Trail. For extra points.Here are the rules: follow the link at the bottom of this post to play the game. You can't use a mouse, because we didn't have those back then, so you control everything by typing stuff in. Play the game, see how far you can get without everyone dying, then leave a comment on this post with your Name, Grade, Section, and your high score and final position in the game.
Here's a hint: hunt a lot, fjord the rivers, and start out with more than 50 pounds of food.
CLICK HERE TO PLAY THE BEST COMPUTER GAME EVER!!!!!!!!!
18 February 2009
The Dancing Gene
I had some heartfelt conversations with my California Grandpa at Christmastime. Michael Jackson was on repeat in my car that month. Once, when it was just me and Grandpa on the road, we discussed our shared love of the King of Pop, and our shared love of dance. Grandpa was surprised (and proud) to hear that in certain parts of the world, I have something of a reputation when it comes to dancing. He told me a story about back in the day when his students were having a dance party at school and he joined in. He said the Compton high schoolers were impressed with his moves.
"I don't think there's anything to it," he said. "You just get out there and start moving to the music."
It's all in the family.
The way he moves, Ely Kim could be part of my family. (Seriously, Ely Kim. Let's get married.) He danced to 100 different songs for 100 days, and you can watch him shake it down here. Day 49 is one of my faves; bonus points if you know why.
BOOMBOX from Ely Kim on Vimeo.
Everybody dance now.
"I don't think there's anything to it," he said. "You just get out there and start moving to the music."
It's all in the family.
The way he moves, Ely Kim could be part of my family. (Seriously, Ely Kim. Let's get married.) He danced to 100 different songs for 100 days, and you can watch him shake it down here. Day 49 is one of my faves; bonus points if you know why.
BOOMBOX from Ely Kim on Vimeo.
Everybody dance now.
17 February 2009
Wacky Warehouse: Everything Must Go
Good (but urgent) news for packrats: If you spent years collecting Kool-Aid Kool Points as a kid, saving up for one of the big ticket items, you might still be able to cash in. The Kool-Aid points program we grew up with will end on June 30, 2010, so you've got 15 months to redeem your stash.
I know we still have a giant Ziploc packed with points. I should have mailed them all in before the turn of the century, because even if I still desperately wanted a child size bike with radio handlebars (I kind of do still desperately want a child size bike with radio handlebars) or another Barbie doll, gone are the days when such treasures were available from the Kool-Aid Wacky Warehouse. You have your choice of a T-shirt, pitcher, towel or—and this last one is a doozey—a Kool-Aid packet holder (limit 20 per household). No walkie-talkies? No Big Wheels? No bikes of any kind? Sigh.
The Kool-Aid site is all hip and happening, made to look kind of like a MySpace page for the Kool-Aid Man, with music and videos and prizes—at least for the next year and three months. Act now, but make sure there will be some packet holders left for the rest of us.
I know we still have a giant Ziploc packed with points. I should have mailed them all in before the turn of the century, because even if I still desperately wanted a child size bike with radio handlebars (I kind of do still desperately want a child size bike with radio handlebars) or another Barbie doll, gone are the days when such treasures were available from the Kool-Aid Wacky Warehouse. You have your choice of a T-shirt, pitcher, towel or—and this last one is a doozey—a Kool-Aid packet holder (limit 20 per household). No walkie-talkies? No Big Wheels? No bikes of any kind? Sigh.
The Kool-Aid site is all hip and happening, made to look kind of like a MySpace page for the Kool-Aid Man, with music and videos and prizes—at least for the next year and three months. Act now, but make sure there will be some packet holders left for the rest of us.
08 February 2009
Antique Edifices
Buildings, like most nice things, only get better with age. Take the Parthenon. Wait, no, I take that back. That's a terrible example.
Small Town New York
These were just my feelings when I snapped this picture from the railcar window of the fabled Adirondack train late last summer. On my way from Montreal to Albany, I saw many beautiful things: lakes, lush forests, mountains. But my favorite part of the six hour ride was when the train went through the old towns of northern New York.
The buildings I'm talking about are those that we grew up around, not those that grew up around us. Those that, though we've never seen them before, seem to be lined along the Main Streets of our minds.
Small Town New YorkThese were just my feelings when I snapped this picture from the railcar window of the fabled Adirondack train late last summer. On my way from Montreal to Albany, I saw many beautiful things: lakes, lush forests, mountains. But my favorite part of the six hour ride was when the train went through the old towns of northern New York.
02 February 2009
An Aunt Story
Recently my Aunt Lou Ann was telling me about this article she read about bee mites in her local newspaper.
"Bee mites?"
"Yeah, you know. They're just these tiny mites on bees," she said. "It was the best article. You wouldn't think bee mites would be that interesting, but I could not put it down."
Here's where she was wrong: I would think bee mites sound mighty interesting, because bugs are crazy! Look at this video about ants that I have been making everybody watch lately.
"Bee mites?"
"Yeah, you know. They're just these tiny mites on bees," she said. "It was the best article. You wouldn't think bee mites would be that interesting, but I could not put it down."
Here's where she was wrong: I would think bee mites sound mighty interesting, because bugs are crazy! Look at this video about ants that I have been making everybody watch lately.
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