The word of the year.

The Word of the Day was absinthe.

absinthe \AB-sinth\ noun
1 : wormwood; especially : a common European wormwood
(Artemisia absinthium)
2 : a green liqueur which is flavored with wormwood, anise,
and other aromatic herbs and commercial production of which is
banned in many countries for health concerns

Around here we’ve had long discussions about absinthe–it seems to come up once a year or so, and for the most part the discussion is “who would want to drink something that tastes like licorice?” Not me, as I find anise repulsive. But that doesn’t make the subject any less fascinating.

Plus, there are things like this:
The Alarming Effects of Absinthe on Guinea Pigs

I love Neil Gaiman’s weblog.

Hello Neil! Seeing as X-mas soon is here, I was wondering how you told your children that there is no real living Santa Claus. Did you tell them as soon as they popped the question? Same thing with the easterbunny and different types of man-made “stories” :) Much appreciated if you answer this, I know you are busy.
Thanks from a big fan in Sweden, Fredrik Josefsson.

My children have, on occasion, strongly suggested that there might not be a Father Christmas. They also seem very doubtful about the existence of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and the Weird Knife Lady In The Attic. I humour them by pretending to go along with all this, but I keep my own counsel on the matter.

While walking this morning I was thinking about the power that words have. And how I have never been able to use my powers for good.

The first time I noticed the power of words was when I pulled a tornado out of the clear blue sky.

We were driving through Kansas, the first visit for me. Coming from hilly West (by God) Virginia, I was amazed by the expanse of sky and the horizon that seemed to go on forever.

My comment was something like, “I can’t believe how much sky there is! Thunderstorms must be incredible out here!”

The sky immediately darkened, and within a short time the first drops of rain were falling. We turned on the radio only to hear a tornado warning.

Usually, though, what usually happens is I’ll say something like, “wouldn’t it really suck if such and such a bad thing happened?” At which point said bad thing immediately occurs.

I think I inherited this power from my mother. I have a clear memory of pulling up in front of my aunt’s house, and my mom telling my father, “be careful! You’re going to hit the curb and we’ll get a flat!” I don’t have to tell you what immediately happened, do I? The strange part, however, is that I can not ever remember my dad hitting the curb when parking. Ever. It was as if her words drew the car towards the curb and flattened the tire.

So I’m careful now with what I say. Often I’ll start a sentence and then slap my hand over my mouth to keep the words from escaping.

But I still try to use my powers for good. Hoping that one day it’ll take.

Wouldn’t it be great if I found a million dollars?

E is for our Empire
Where the sun never sets
The larger we make it
The bigger it gets

Just an astounding number of posters on everything from Cubans Welcome US Troops to “A Maid and a Million Men” to Is your washroom breeding bolsheviks?

G is the Game
We preserve with such care
To shoot, as it gracefully
Flies through the air

Thanks Bob!

I give my presentation for my Legal/Ethical Issues in Public Health today.

20 minutes for 35 slides.

Good think I talk fast.

It’s not like I didn’t try to pare things down, it’s just that there’s a lot of information that I needed to cover, and there was really very little that I could leave out. For every two slides I cut I realized there was another I needed to insert to meet the presentation requirements.

Let’s hope it goes well.

Then all I should have left is a 10 to 15 page paper on the same topic. Piece of cake. My difficulty will be in keeping it under 15 pages.

I had a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and although the appointment didn’t last as long as expected, I went home anyway. Along my route home is a McDonald’s. It’s set a bit back from the road, with the parking lot out front. It’s really a terrible location for pulling in and out of traffic, but they get a lot of walk ups, as it’s located between two dorm complexes. Usually there is so much traffic that I don’t even notice the place as I drive by. But today there were no oncoming cars, so I had an unobstructed view of the store and its parking lot.

The lot was mostly empty, so it was hard not to notice the old man leaning up against his car, eating a hamburger. He was especially noteworthy because he looked like the kind of old man you always expect to see in West Virginia, but never quite do: John Deere cap, old t-shirt under an even older flannel shirt, beat-up work pants, and scuffed boots. The car was one of those old Ford Escorts you see everywhere around here, with the red paint gone dull, and rust coming through in spots. The driver’s side window was open, and through it I could see a woman.

She looked not like the stereotypical old woman, but instead was the woman you always see at Wal Mart. Straight brown hair in a large barrette on the top of her head, and then pulled back into a pony tail. A pink shirt was all I could see of her clothes—that hot pink color that no woman her size should wear. She was sitting in the passenger seat, eating her meal, staring straight through the windshield, while the man leaned against the back door, staring out at traffic.

It was a strange sight, the two of them eating like that.

Was it an argument that drove him out of the car, unwilling to remain one second more than necessary in the car with his daughter? Or were they husband and wife, on a long trip, stopping only to get a quick bite to eat. He had to get out of the car to stretch his legs, even if just for a bit, but she was tired and wanted only to eat and get back on the road?

Then they were gone and I couldn’t have seen them in my rearview mirror even if I’d looked.

For the curious, here’s what I’m listening to this week when I exercise.

There’d be even more Bob Mould, except that I no longer have any Husker Du albums. I’d thought about just listening to “Black Sheets of Rain” or “File Under Easy Listening” but decided I wanted some variety.
(more…)

Holy Cow!

I don’t understand how I, coming from a family of people who can’t spell, managed this:

“I’m feeling flabby and unattractive this evening.”
“Well you don’t look flabby and unattractive.”
“That may be so, but I feel flabby and unattractive.”
“What are you going to trust, how you feel or what I see?”
“Did you know you’re wearing two different color socks?”

Anyone interested in buying a WV school? There’s one up for sale on E-Bay.

(via S)

Mountainstage came to the CAC Sunday night. As with last time, it was primarily a bluegrass show, and we had a great time.

Started out with the Old Crow Medicine Show, which made me think of Charles deLint. Oddly enough their sound did remind me a bit of the music he describes in some of his stories, although whether that’s his intention or not, I couldn’t say.

Diana Jones was next. She had what I heard someone on the way out describe as “an old time voice.” Very strong. I particularly liked her a cappella tune.

I really liked Jonathan Byrd and Dromedary. Dromedary played a strange variety of instruments, including a strange instrument that looked like a banjo with too many strings and a marvelous sound. I think that I would like one of their albums.

The biggest surprise to me Kris Delmhorst, who had fantastic voice. Once she started singing I remembered having heard her on Mountainstage previously, but she didn’t like old enough and careworn enough to have such an incredible voice.

Dwight Miller & John Morris (I hope I got those names correct) were the old time musicians of the evening. Two old men sitting on chairs playing banjo and fiddle and telling tales between songs. They looked like they belonged sitting on a porch, leaning back, fiddling and picking and telling tales. I was pleased and surprised by how much the audience appreciated them–they received a standing ovation when they were done. Absolutely lovely.

Finishing up the night was the Nashville Bluegrass Band. Very good, very polished group. Their a cappella tune was just amazing–what I liked best of what they did. Oddly enough, I think they were a bit too polished at what they did for me to really love them. Don’t get me wrong, they were good–even great–but something about them just didn’t seem right to men, and I can’t really put my finger on what precisely it was, other than it seemed perhaps too polished. But as I said, they were very very good.

If you were looking to buy me some music from the evening, I think I’d really like something from Old Crow Medicine Show or Dromedary. But everything was very good.

I finally got some good pictures of the latest acquisition from Jungle Jim’s, made when we were in Cincinnati for Andy and Heather’s wedding.

I’m not planning on eating it, but if anyone is interested: it’s sugar-free!

Hadn’t had much of a chance to go through any of the pictures I’d taken this fall.

Pictures taken at my grandmother’s house.

I also got a couple of senic pictures on the way home–the weather however didn’t really cooperate, so despite the beautiful fall color, I got few pictures.