the drought

Two years ago I wrote this post about my choice of deodorant.  I had not used anti-perspirant for years; in fact, I'd stopped cold turkey when my "science" "teacher" told me that the aluminum in anti-perspirants contributed to Alzheimer's disease later in life.  This theory (if rumor and innuendo can be called a theory) has since been debunked.  And yet, I clung to my Old Spice deodorant like a sailor to a sinking galleon.

Not that there's anything wrong with Old Spice.  I love the Old Spice Guy, and without millions of dudes just like me buying their product, Old Spice wouldn't have been able to afford the salary of that Old Spice Guy.  So, really, I contributed to a classic television advertisement.

My anti-perspirant drought ended a few weeks ago on a trip to my local druggist.  Kiel's sells an anti-perspirant that claims it is superbly efficient.  Not one to be a barnacle on the ship of history (to continue the nautical metaphors), I decided to try it out.

It's great.  I love it.  Keeps me un-sweaty after a long bike ride to work, which I'm sure my co-workers appreciate.  And it sings me lullabies at night to ensure I get a restful and sweet-smelling sleep.

The answer really is blowin' in the wind.  And if you happen to be standing downwind from me, the answer is a combination of witch hazel, propylene glycol, and aluminum clorohydrate.

friday robots

 Here's your Friday Robots for this week!

Wait, that doesn't look much like a robot.  It looks more architectural.  To distract you, here's a sketch of Richard Nixon I made while doing research for this episode of Falling Rock:

Happy Friday everybody!

can this be a thing?

Instead of saying "take it easy," can we start saying "take it cheesy"?  Of course we'll have to say it really fast so the other person still thinks we're saying "take it easy."  It will be a test of the other person's listening ability, to see if they're paying attention.

Let's all try it!

weirdos

This post is dedicated to the weirdos.  Thank you for inspiring us all.  Your mystery and magic often go under appreciated in your time, but you are a guiding light to this blogger.  I may not always understand you, but I will never forget you.

Weirdos roll call!

Gonzo the Great

Hunter S. Thompson

Karl the Marx

Maxine Hong Kingston

Werner Herzog

John Muir (and Teddy Roosevelt)

 Love you guys!

friday robots

Tucson has some of the best star viewing of any city in the country.  This is partly due to light pollution restrictions enacted to aid scientists at nearby Kitt Peak Observatory.  If you're ever in Tucson, a trip up the mountain to Kitt Peak is well worth your time.  Make sure to check out their badly neglected basketball court.  Not a lot of nighttime pick-up games are happening there.  What is happening, though, is some awesome universe viewing.  Their telescopes are more than adequate for solar system research, and the solar telescope is a sight to behold (they've rigged it so they can view the sun all day long without having to constantly make adjustments).  If there's anything fishy going on with ol' Sol, Kitt Peak will be the first group to know.

All this talk about astronomy got me thinking about a robot constellation which I call "The Four Brothers."  They look peaceful in this depiction, but that just means they're up to no good.

Have a happy Friday everybody, and keep your eyes skyward.

please hammer, don't hurt 'em

Please.  Hammer don't hurt 'em.
Please, Hammer.  Don't hurt 'em.
Please Hammer!  Don't!  Hurt 'em.
Please, Hammer, don't.  Hurt 'em!
Please. Hammer. Don't. Hurt. 'Em.
Pleasehammerdon'thurt'em.
Please, Hammer don't hurt.  'Em?
Please?  Hammer.  Don't hurt 'em.
Please Hammer; don't hurt 'em...
Please: Hammer don't hurt.  'Em!
Please, Hammer, don't, hurt, 'em.
Please Hammer!?!!  Don't hurt 'em.
Please Hammer (Don't Hurt 'Em)
Please - Hammer don't.  Hurt 'em.
Please!  Hammer don't hurt 'em.
Please Hammer*
"Please," Hammer, "don't hurt 'em."
Please/Hammer/Don't/Hurt/'Em
Please ~ Hammer don't hurt 'em.
Please Hammer don't...  Hurt 'em??
Plea$e Hammer &on't #urt 'em.
Please Hammer! [Don't hurt 'em.]
Please Hammer, don't hurt 'em.

Please...
              ...Hammer, don't hurt 'em.





*don't hurt 'em

friday robots: office park edition

  Robots in the office will make your life easier and improve efficiency by 1000%.  

The future is right around the corner.

bye bye Beavers

As I write this post, it is Monday night in Portland and baseball is dead.  Today, The City That Works lost its minor league team, the Beavers, with nary a tear.  Oh, give it time.  People will comment next April when PGE Ballpark, soon to be converted to a soccer stadium, stands empty the majority of the time.  With no daily baseball games to liven the park, it will sure seem a waste of such beautiful, meaningful space.

This blogger stands ready to help the owner of the Beavers, Merritt Paulson, bring baseball back to Portland.  If you're serious about it then so am I, Merritt.

On Saturday evening, me, my wife Isis, and our friend Nick went to the Beavers' third-to-last game, against the Las Vegas 51s.  I'm not going to mince words: the Beavers did not bring it that night.  Losing 9-1, the Beavers may have been feeling deflated.  Two bizarre errors were definitely indicators that the Beavers were not "cooking the bacon," "bringing it to the table," or "serving the bacon to the visiting team."

At least Lucky the Beaver was in good spirits.

You're looking at one of Lucky's final performances.  On Tuesday he'll be sent to the Mascot Retirement Home in Sun City, Arizona.  There he will live out his remaining days in obscurity until Jack Death grips his fragile figure and carts him off to the Great Game in the Sky.
 
PGE Park was a lovely way to spend an evening on this late-summer day.

 The first pitch:

By the end of the game, with darkness beyond the big lights and the the 51s having proven their superiority (at least for the day), the crowd showed its devotion by staying until the last pitch.  I don't think I've ever been to a game when the home team has been down by as much in the bottom of the 9th and the crowd has not thinned a bit.  Everyone wanted to stay a little longer in that park, watching our team.

The last pitch of the game:

After the game was over, Isis, Nick, and I sat for a few more moments, soaking up the century-old atmosphere of PGE Park.  There will be no more baseball fans parked in those seats, no more baseball hats sold in the team shop, and no more sound of the crack of a bat sending a ball skyward while the crowd watches in anticipation.

The city of Portland has allowed this travesty to happen.  Why, in a city so full of good things, is there not room for baseball?  Are the hipsters too cool for it?  Well, probably.  But for those of us whose favorite bands play to crowds of more than 12 people and put their albums out not just on vinyl, baseball is still one of the best ways to spend a summer evening.  I hope that whatever town gets the Beavers treats them with respect and gives them a stadium at least half as good as PGE.  There is a baseball-team-shaped hole in my heart tonight.

Good night, Portland Beavers, and good luck.

mcbone: the book

After years of research, cubic tons of wine consumed, and countless revisions, the official book of partner blogger McBone has arrived:

Wine Appreciation is not just a textbook on the best use of grapes.  It is a way of life.  A better life than the one you're leading right now, dear readers.

It turns out that a better life can be had through knowledge.  Knowledge and heavy drinking.  Sorry: knowledge about heavy drinking.  It's like the Buddhists say: do anything with full consciousness and you're on the road to enlightenment.  Even if the thing you're doing will soon lead to unconsciousness.

Taking a boring Calculus class?  Tell your professor to spice it up by switching text books!  Think about how much funner Calculus would be if Calculus was all about drinking wine.

Wine Appreciation, ostensibly by a man named "Christian Butzke," could never have been realized without the hard work and dedication of another man:

Behind every great man, there is a McBoner.


Cheers to my friend, colleague, fellow blogospherian, and wine lover.  A toast!

light is moving as fast as it can, people

C'mon, give light a break.  It already travels at 299,792,458 meters per second.  Asking for more is greedy.

Our sun.  Stop taking it for granted!

Example of gravitational lensing.  Even when light is bent, it moves real fast.

women are quitters

It has come to my attention that a lot of women are quitting things lately.  What's up, ladies?  Can't take the pressure?

Women weren't always so easily beaten.






Cathy Guisewite draws Cathy, the comic strip.  After 34 years of making fun of mothers, swimsuits, and chocolate, the Notorious C.A.T. is calling it quits.  There aren't many female syndicated cartoonists.  Heck, there aren't many syndicated cartoonists period anymore, and Guisewite was one of those few who gained phenomenal worldwide fame.  Even though it apparently only takes an hour a month to write a daily comic strip, Guisewite has decided that the burden of "Cathy" is too great for her to bear.


Oprah Winfrey is retiring from her daytime talk show ("The Cosby Show") next year.  The Big O put the small Illinois suburb of Chicago on the map.  She pioneered the reading of secular literature, campaigned for President Obama, and has the unprecedented honor of appearing on every cover of O Magazine.  But all her achievements stem from her humble TV show.  The show is the heart of Oprah, and Oprah has decided to rip out her own heart.


You know who doesn't quit?  MEN.  Men have a much better track record when it comes to "gittin' 'er done."

In the movie Predator, Dutch (played by a young unknown named Arnold Schwarzenegger) goes toe-to-toe against an alien who hunts people for sport.  This alien can camoflauge itself by becoming invisible.  It has weapons mere mortals cannot dream of.  And yet, in the end, Dutch blows up the Predator with the equivalent of a nuclear bomb.  Dutch survives this catastrophe by hiding behind the fallen trunk of a tree.

Do you think Dutch wanted to call it quits?  When the Predator killed every other member of Dutch's party, did Dutch throw his arms up in the air and admit defeat?  No.  Dutch finished the job. 

In the comic strip The Family Circus, Billy wants to be an artist.  His problem is, he stinks.  The kid can't draw.  Oh, Billy's dad ("Dad") occasionally lets the boy take over when he's hung over.  But that's only temporary.  You know why?  It's Jeffy, Billy.  It's always been Jeffy.  Look at the signature beside the circle.  Does it say "Billy and Bil Keane"?  No, it does not.  "JEFF and Bil Keane" is what it says.  Jeffy is already taking over The Family Circus, Billy.  Jeffy, your kid brother, has usurped you.

Billy knows he's never going to get The Family Circus.  At best, he'll be lighting Jeffy's cigars and filling the tires of his Lexus.  But does Billy quit?  No.  He keeps submitting his hokey drawings to Dad, and as long as Dad is around, Billy will occasionally get his drawings into the daily paper.

Dear readers, I can hear your complaints already: "Kid Shay, both women you mention are real people who have achieved a level of success anybody would find admirable, whereas your male examples are fictional characters."  Does this make my point moot?  Does it disqualify this entire post?  Am I practicing yellow journalism?

To my critics, I will respond with a question.  As my partner blogger so eloquently says: "Why do you hate America?"

Seacrest out.

friday robots

Happy Labor Day, American readers!  Happy Labour Day, Canadian readers!

Have a good long weekend.

falling rock: the movie

What cartoonist hasn't thought about who should play their characters on the big screen?  Movies, or films, or "moving filmed pictures," have long held a fascination with me.  Sigmund Freud said that movies fulfill our subconscious desire to sleep with Thomas Edison.  Whether that is true or not, I remain an avid movie-watcher.

So who should play each character in the inevitable Welcome to Falling Rock National Park movie?  Here are my suggestions.

Ranger Dee - Zooey Deschanel

Everybody's favorite park ranger is sometimes called* the heart of the comic.  Who better to play the emotional center of Falling Rock: The Movie than the girl who stole M. Ward's heart?


Carver - Jason Schwartzman

Carver the cranky owl needs a wry voice tinged with world-weariness.  Rushmore introduced us to a young Jason Schwartzman as a world-weary high school student.  Fantastic Mr. Fox proved he has the chops for voice work, and Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World proved he can play a great antagonist.


Ernesto - Tony Hale

Who better to play the lovable clothes-wearing lizard than the actor who partly inspired him?  Tony Hale is better known to the world as Buster Bluth on the short-lived TV show Arrested Development.  I'm not actually sure why that show got canceled because everyone I know has seen it.  Timid, somewhat stunted, yet with the potential for catastrophe, Buster Bluth could easily pass as Ernesto's human cousin.


Pam -who else? - Lauren Bacall

Pam, the chain-smoking retired schoolteacher, can't be played by just any dame.  Pam needs to be played by a wiseacre, a mystery, a worldly woman.  I can't think of anyone better than the living embodiment of noir: Ms. Bacall.


Melissa - Ani DiFranco

Melissa the mountain lion was a difficult character to cast.  At first I thought Nicole Kidman.  Then my thoughts turned to singers.  Norah Jones?  Cat Power?  I heard Ani DiFranco interviewed on the Sound Opinions podcast and realized her voice would be perfect for the mellow but fierce cat.

Featuring a theme song written and performed by Bob Dylan, Jack Johnson, and Jeff Tweedy (under the name Wilbury & Sons), Falling Rock: The Movie will surely rake in Tom-Cruise-in-the-early-90's money.  Oh, and it will definitely be in 3D.




*only by me