Endless Prattling

Wedding Flashbacks

2011-08-17T11:40:00.005-05:00

As of this Saturday, Kyeorda and I will have been married for five years, something that is hard for me to believe. It just does not feel like it has been that long. To celebrate, we took a trip to Toronto this past weekend. It had been a while since we had taken a real vacation, our honeymoon in fact. While preparing for the trip, we ended up walking through our wedding day and each day of our honeymoon. I am not sure that we had ever done that before. It was a beautiful week and a half I wish I could live over again.

But another episode relating to our wedding sprang into my mind recently. We were married on the 20th of August, 2006, but originally, we were to be married on the 13th of August. That date was changed for various reasons. I mention it due to its relevance to Rudy's August 13th shenanigans. I just so happen to still have the emails relating to this so without further ado, I present Rudy and Jesse's trip to New Zealand.

Subject: New Zealand

Jesse, what are you doing on August 13th? I have these two
tickets for a week in New Zealand (all expensives paid)...
you wanna go with me?

- rudy

A free trip? That is awesome. What an awesome friend! We were supposed to go to Michigan for wedding planning that weekend, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, right?

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Wow, let me get a hold of Kye, we're supposed to take a trip back to Michigan for wedding planning and I'll see if I can juggle that around a bit.

Jesse

And so I forwarded the message to Kye and asked about changing our trip.

Subject: New Zealand (fwd)

So, obviously I want to go. Would you want to go back to Michigan really early in August (I know you have a doctors appointment around August 1st). Or maybe we could take the wedding trip at the end of August. Let me know what you think.

Jesse

And then I sent another message to Rudy.

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Dude, how did you get these tickets? Just curious.

Jesse

And Rudy responds...

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Ha ha, I forgot I sent that. Jesse, aren't you getting married on the 13th?

--
- rudy

That message sounds odd.

Subject: Re: New Zealand

13th of August 2006. Was that just a joke then? Sucks to your jokes if it was

And Rudy responds...

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Or is Samantha from Samantha's Creations full of crap?

--
- rudy

Samantha was a wedding planner we hired. That's odd he knows about her. And then Rudy writes...

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Oh man, you are going to kill me aren't you?

--
- rudy

He explores further....

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Wait, you are getting married in 2006? Does Samantha know that? She thinks it is 2005, you might want to make sure she knows that.

--
- rudy

Rudy is generally a fairly astute reader, but perhaps he missed something. I look this up myself. Clearly I am thrilled.

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Dude that was lame. Here is what's on the web. She does have us listed as 2006.

Kyeorda Kemp & Jesse Chvojka of Chicago, Illinois
Sunday, August 13th, 2006
Ceremony & Reception: To Be Determined

You suck,
Jesse

And Rudy responds...

Subject: Re: New Zealand

Maybe she does know... oops... yes, I was trying to pull a fast one on you, but it doesn't work as well if you are not in person... heh heh...

--
- rudy

And I respond in mature form...

Subject: Re: New Zealand

LAAAAAMMMMMMEEEEEE

I omit a few messages because we tried to set up talk on pine, but Rudy concludes...

Subject: Re: Kind of funny when read in sequential order

You have to admit I fooled you big time... I hope you didn't rearrange anything... ha!

--
- rudy

Well, I did in fact start rearranging the schedules of five other people. I'm not sure if Rudy realizes he was on fairly shaky ground with Kye for a while. Incidentally, Rudy did make it to our wedding and waited for another time to travel to New Zealand.

Some people.

Ashes and Sand

2011-06-27T19:38:00.002-05:00

One of my earliest memories is sitting in a highchair playing with an hourglass. I felt disturbed by the object. When I flipped it, the sand would slip through the narrow aperture and make a pile at the bottom. Eventually the grains would run out and any outward sign of the passage of time would cease. This alarmed me and I believe contributed to an obsession with the passage of time that I have.

I suspect this memory has persisted due to the next moment that followed. My mother's stepfather, Dell, started an argument with my grandmother during dinner. She stood up in anger. He followed suit and slapped her hard across the face. I don't remember anything other than the complete silence that followed. When I was younger, I did not understand why this happened. Now, I am fairly certain the argument was about my mom, my sister, and myself. He wanted us out of the house. We had been there several weeks. My grandmother refused to kick us out. He eventually forced us out anyhow. She would leave him over this, meet Ron Porubsky, and move up near Farwell with him.

Ron, my grandmother, and great grandmother would be buried just outside of that small town. And when my mom passed, we added half her ashes to the family plot. I cannot help but link this moment with where my mom is buried.

In truth, my mother did not want to be buried near Farwell. I asked her this as we drove by the Surrey Township Cemetery after a visit to my grandma's place. This must have been June, three months before my grandma passed. I asked my mom where she wanted to be buried. She didn't know. I think she didn't know because no place ever really felt like home to her. She felt out of place her entire life.

But I kept this to myself as we sat in the basement of the funeral home mulling the particulars over. In the end we agreed to have half of her ashes buried with our family so part of her never had to be alone. This felt right regardless of what my mom had said. We decided to scatter the other half on a beach on Lake Michigan. My mother adored beaches and sunsets and loved the beaches of Lake Michigan in particular. It felt right.

There were a few beaches from which to choose. We considered Sleeping Bear Dunes, Empire Beach (where Kyeorda and I were married), Saugatuck, and Ludington. Each place had meaning for the family. In the end, we chose Ludington, a place we visited many times with our mom. My last trip there had actually been with my mom, just five days before we found out Kyeorda was pregnant with Micah.

In early May, Karen, Kyeorda, Micah, and I piled into the Jeep and headed to Ludington. My aunt and uncle headed up from Kentucky and Martin came over from Lansing. We met up on a Saturday afternoon. We had hoped to scatter her ashes at sunset, but the sky was a stubborn grey. We opted for the dismal lighting over nighttime and thus after dinner, we headed to a deserted beach.

We chose a place at random. Karen grabbed the box with our mom's ashes and we walked out into a drizzle. Martin and our aunt and uncle had very thoughtfully bought roses which they passed out to each of us before going out to the beach. Once out there, Karen and I were tongue tied and our uncle came through with a beautiful prayer. We then each took a turn scattering her ashes onto the wet sand. The water would roll over the dark grey ashes with white flecks and wash them away. The ones that remained were slowly worked into the sand. We then scattered the roses into the water, a last offering to my mom. Micah was shivering so he and Kyeorda returned to the warmth of the car. The rest of us stood in silence watching the water, unable to just walk away. After a while, the chill was seeping into our bones. Karen took some sand. I looked around trying to drink in the nearby landmarks. And then we left for the hotel to play Euchre for old-times sake.

The next day, I went back to what I now regard as my mom's beach by myself. I wanted to make sure I could find it again and I suppose I still felt unsettled. The beach had become charged with strangeness. I felt a bit of vertigo for a few moments after walking out onto it. The roses were still there, but no sign of the ashes. I wrote a message to her in the sand and then stood feeling the silence. Satisfied, I claimed a sand-encrusted piece of driftwood and left.

Talking to a Ghost

2011-01-07T15:54:00.004-06:00

We left Labor Day morning to come back to Chicago. It was a brutal drive. We were worn completely ragged by the end of the trip, but once home, I texted my Mom to let her know that we had made it OK and that it had been a great weekend. And it had been, but we started that week exhausted.

I had a hard time getting a hold of her for the rest of the week. We bought a new vehicle, the days were crammed with errands to run, and my cell phone seemed to be perpetually dead. I finally called Saturday to tell her about our new car car and the adventure I had selling my old one out of a Metra parking lot. I only got her voicemail.

She called me back on Sunday afternoon. Her voice sounded subdued and thin. She was definitely sad, but she sounded defeated more than anything else. I know I need to believe that at this point she was already gone. I can step backward and see the point a day or so before where I think she finally broke inside. But part of me doubts anything is ever truly predetermined and that is my problem. I went on to ask how she was doing. I said it not in a conversational tone, but in a concerned one. The first anniversary of her own Mom's death was just six days away. She told me that she was going to need all the help she could get. On reflection, I should have been deeply alarmed. At the time, I thought she was being melodramatic and it was the second half of the week that I needed to worry about. I tried to convince her to spend that next weekend with Micah and us, something I had been trying to do over the previous month. She declined. I asked her what she would do. She told me about attending an Arts and Craft fair at the Cider Mill. I suspect she said this to placate me. I tried to cheer her up. I talked about going there with Micah, Kye, and her the next summer. And then research, Micah, and menial chores swept me off the phone. We had talked for 30 minutes. I try to believe she called to say goodbye, to talk to her little boy one more time.

I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind for the rest of the evening. I had been having intense feelings of foreboding for days, something I do not often feel. I considered calling her back later that evening to check in on her. In the end, I pushed it to the back of my mind convincing myself it was the end of the week I needed to worry about.

As I walked to my desk at Fermilab the next morning, I thought about my Mom, about how down she gets. By this time, pulmonary edema had already done its work. An hour later, I got the call, my sister sounding distraught asking me to find a quiet place before she would tell me anything.

I know what I need to believe, that this was her choice. Intellectually, I even understand why she made this choice. But the conversation I cannot seem to finish is the one with myself, where I finally acquiesce to reason, and fully accept this.

At the Surrey Township Cemetery

2010-12-29T18:40:00.006-06:00

We were the last to arrive and running late, which is commonplace for us. I had attempted to dress up with a frumpy ill-fitting sweater, a pair of cheap slacks, and some gym shoes having forgotten my dress shoes. It was a fairly uncomfortable ensemble that gave me the constant urge to squirm. We stepped out of the car into the warm autumn air. Gathered were Kyeorda, Micah, my sister, and I in addition to my mom's closest friend, boyfriend, twin sister, her brother-in-law, and her aunt and uncle. The sexton stood off a good distance to give us our privacy.

We did the perfunctory greetings. My uncle asked if we had come straight up from Chicago. I answered no and then murmured something about lateness and having a baby and then the conversation petered out. With no further reason to keep us from the business we had come to attend to, we wandered over to the hole in the ground. This hole lay in our family plot, the last unclaimed spot, with my Grandma, Grandpa, and Great Grandma already occupying the others.

My uncle said a prayer. We turned to my sister and she gave some thoughtful words which I can no longer remember, I only recall that they felt very moving at the time. And then eyes were on me. I had wanted to compose something of worth for the occasion. This never happened. When I did speak, my words felt ill-suited and rushed. I could not seem to capture what I wanted to impart to my mom's remains and so I stopped. We went silent and the sexton intervened. He asked who would be helping lay her to rest. My mom's boyfriend, my uncle, and I all stepped forward. The vault containing my mom's ashes had no good handholds and we struggled. I went down on my knees as we lowered the vault. The exhumed dirt soiled my slacks. After grunting and straining, we managed to gently lay the vault at the bottom. The sexton held out a shovel. I took it, told my mother goodbye, and released a shovel full of dirt onto the top of the vault. My sister stepped forward and repeated the ceremony. When no one else stepped forward, I turned and shook the sexton's hand. And then we stepped away to allow the man space to perform his duties.

Conversation started again. My mom's sister clung to Micah and Micah took to her with ease. Later Kyeorda and I would speculate on whether Micah knew the difference between his grandma and his grandma's twin sister.

My sister and I then strolled along the rows of stones trying to make a decision about a monument. We took pictures and came up with ideas. As we were walking back to rejoin everyone, we decided we did not want that bastard's name on the stone, that we would bury our mom without a last name. The decision felt like the first thing to go right that day. We then we piled into our vehicles and left.

In the Beginning

2010-12-23T13:47:00.007-06:00

In the beginning, all I could do was shake, my hand on a floor-to-ceiling window to steady myself and my sister asking if I was still on the line. My mind scrambled, all I could think to do was to find Kyeorda. I wandered about the 10^th floor of Wilson Hall in a daze, trying to calm myself so I could safely make the drive home.

In the beginning, we were at each other's throats. Each of us snapping at the smallest perceived provocation. At one point it felt like the whole family had fallen apart and I worried of permanent schism.

In the beginning, the stress of it felt crushing. Every cell of my body seemed to to ache. I weakened. Shingles marched across my chest. No amount of sleep was enough and the exhaustion was terrible.

In the beginning, I would go from deep sleep to absolute alertness. My eyes would open and the realization that my mother was dead would come upon me again. I would then have to check on Micah, to make sure he was still with me, still breathing.

In the beginning, it was all I could think of. My sister's words perpetually haunted me. They would come at me at any time, her sobbing voice echoing through my head, “Mom killed herself.”

In the beginning, I relived my Mom's last day many times over, unable to stop myself. I would start from our phone conversation in the early afternoon and go forward to the end. My mind would paint a vivid picture of the day despite my wish to suppress the vision.

In the beginning, I spent most of my spare time investigating the why that my Mom did not provide. I reconstructed the seven days bookended by Kyeorda, Micah, and I pulling out of her driveway and my sister calling me while I sat at my desk at Fermilab. I read things I wish I could forget, such as the gut churning autopsy report. And eventually I knew everything there was to know.

And since then, I am not haunted like I was before. My body has healed. We have nearly settled my Mom's estate. I know almost every detail of that last week. I know many things about my Mom that I did not know before. The matter for all practical purposes is concluded, except how I fit a bitter, surreal autumn into the continuity of my life. And for that, I do not think there is an “In the beginning” to be had.

Everything Must Go

2010-11-18T08:17:00.005-06:00

We headed back to Michigan a week ago Sunday, Karen and I. We went to my Father's place first to unpack and prepare for the week. On Monday, we got back to work at what's been our second job this fall, dismantling the remains of our Mom's life.

We made a list of everything we had left to do in her house and discussed what we should tackle first. The conversation was part farce because we had been both been itching to sift through the box of Christmas ornaments, completely unsorted unlike everything else in the house. These were treasures, that next to the cat and the coffee maker, were probably the most dear to my Mom. As we settled down on the now bare floor, “Dust in the Wind” by Kansas came on the radio. I'm generally not one to assign anthropomorphic qualities to the universe such as intentionality, but really universe? Melodramatic, don't you think? Despite the circumstances seeming almost contrived, the emotion was real and in that moment, we both nearly lost it. We could either laugh or cry and fortunately laughter prevailed.

We picked through each ornament, recounted the story, the history, what each one meant to us. My sister even kept some of the 1970's plastic icicles that she had hated for decades. These had long ago been banished from the Christmas tree, but my Mom had kept them anyhow. We ended up each keeping a few ornaments. Some were made by our Grandmother, some by our Mom, and some were acquired on one of my Mom's many trips.

After the ornaments, I wandered off to excavate a basement closet packed with all my old collections. This mostly consisted of baseball cards that I used to obsess over. I marveled at my ample collection of cards of the now disgraced Pete Rose. These I couldn't bring myself to part with and they now sit in another basement waiting for the next closet or basement to call home.

Other treasures I did let go, a plastic nativity set, which even now I still adore. Now gone, these little pieces of plastic have a disproportionately visceral effect on me even though it depicts a scene which I no longer have a shred of faith in. Another treasure, a plastic tub we called “The Game” for reasons that neither my sister or I understand, I let go. I still second guess this choice. But these are items that will leave a hole, which for me is a more potent reminder of my Mother than the objects themselves. I need that reminder so my mind can start to wrap itself around the bigger hole that I honestly still can't digest.

The rest of the work was composed of small, not particularly notable tasks.

And then Wednesday morning came. The auctioneers showed up and within three hours, everything was staged. We stuck around to visit with well-wishers, host would be customers doing early bird reconnaissance, wait for Kyeorda and Micah to make the trip up from Chicago, and to just let the time pass.

Thursday morning started with fog. We hauled everything outside into the damp air. With just 45 minutes of work, we had everything prepared. People trickled in as the sun burned away the mist. Near the 10:30 am mark, the bustle and chatter of 150 plus patrons went oddly silent. In the pause, there was a peculiar tension. I felt like the air was being pulled out of my lungs and then the auctioneer launched into his sing song rambling. Within four hours, everything but four boxes of books, which we subsequently donated, was sold. An hour or two after that and it was all gone, each piece claimed or bought.

Everything must go.

Object Permanence

2010-11-04T07:21:00.003-05:00

Micah is approaching the age where he will begin to develop object permanence, the concept that something still exists even if one cannot see it. The whole idea strikes me as odd. It seems like we develop this thought and then spend the rest of our life learning that this is not actually true. Perhaps what we call separation anxiety, which tends to accompany this, isn't so much a fear that one will not see another again, but a premonition that this concept is too good to be true.

On Fickleness

2010-10-29T17:40:00.004-05:00

I remember being flattered over the summer when a girl at Micah's daycare, who is three years of age, took a strong liking to Micah. She would exclaim when we would drop him off, would talk to him all day long, and would say intense good bye's if she was around when we picked him up. Her little brother, who is within a week of age of Micah, interested her little. She would talk to her parents constantly about Micah eventually naming her doll after him.

And then she started preschool.....and soon afterward renamed her doll Eyeballs.

SPAM From the Grave

2010-10-21T17:25:00.004-05:00

I have been amused by some of the SPAM I've received over the years. Some has been ludicrous. Some have had header dates far in the future. Much has been lewd and some fairly racist.

But I find it immensely disturbing to be receiving rounds of SPAM from my Mom's old email account. Usually, they just list her email address as the sender. Today, I got one with her full name attached to it. It stopped me in mid-conversation with another collaborator after it popped up.

I cannot express how much wish I could find the person who wrote the script that hijacked her account and punch him or her in the mouth. I think that would make me very happy.

Out of Control

2010-10-05T11:12:00.003-05:00

I do not smoke. I seldom drink. I eat very nutritious meals. I walk a fair amount. I am the ideal weight for my height. I was recently given the best health rating possible recently by a life insurance company. I am seldom sick. I've come down with a cold three times in the last five years. I seldom need to go to the doctor. I am married. I am on the verge of getting a higher degree. All of these attributes suggest I should have a low risk life. Despite this, I am somehow a grave risk for a particular health insurance company as evidenced by the history of my monthly health insurance premium:

Extrapolating from this, my premium quickly approaches ludicrous values in short order. Assuming my premium increases by a similar amount every five years, namely a 320% increase, I find that in 10 years, I will pay more than $6000 every month or more than $70,000 per year. In 20 years, assuming this sort of rate of increase prevails, I would be paying about $63,000 every month. I am in effect uninsurable in the private insurance market and thus I am back on the UofR's insurance policy.

Conclusion: Either I need to be insured through an employer, I need to make fistfuls of cash, or I need to move to Canada.

Rolene Joyce Porubsky: Minutiae II

2010-09-28T17:50:00.002-05:00

I intended that these be included yesterday, but I somehow missed them.

Smoke
She smoked since she was a teenager. And not just smoked, but chain smoked. She did 'quit' for over a year. She would only smoke when she was drinking, which was everyday. When she found out she had cancer, she started chain smoking again. She had her last cigarette the day before she passed.

Wine
My Grandmother drank wine once in her life, on the evening she left her first husband. Upon request, her mother supplied her with a bottle of red wine which she finished in an evening, make herself sick in the process. She would never touch it again.

Language
My Grandmother always liked dogs. She had them when I was younger, but went about 15 years without one due to Ron, her last husband. When she was diagnosed with cancer, she decided she would once again get herself a dog. Thus, the unoriginally named Pug, Pugsy, came into her household. This, I should mention, is one phenomenally obese dog. Shortly after getting Pugsy, she brought him to a family gathering. As we were marveling at the girth of this fellow, how he could barely sit down due to his severe obesity, my Grandmother injected into the silence, “That's one fat fucker.” My grandma always knew just what to say.

Rolene Joyce Porubsky: Minutiae

2010-09-27T14:24:00.001-05:00

Black Velvet Whiskey
My grandmother drank a fair amount, and almost exclusively Black Velvet Whiskey. Not long after I turned 21, my Grandmother and Great Grandmother sent me on a liquor run before sales halted at midnight. Standing in the checkout aisle, I could feel the judgment of the clerk. I wanted to tell her, “It's not for me, it's for my Grandmothers!”

Whiskey and Water and Morphine
My Grandmother continued to drink for some time after she was diagnosed with cancer. It only took a few months for the pain to get rather severe. They put her on morphine around this time. I recall this did not halt her drinking. After she took a morphine pill, I remember Kyeorda asking her if it was a good idea for her to be drinking whiskey and taking morphine pills. She shrugged her shoulders and said matter-of-factly, “Well, I am.”

The Fruit Cocktail Incident
My Grandmother made sure to make my sister and I mind. Even in my twenties, she would prod me to help my mother if I was derelict in doing so. While visiting her for a weekend as fairly young kids, my sister and I had a quarrel over a cherry in the fruit cocktail. Karen had picked out all but one. When my Grandma spoke up about this inequity, Karen, in her stubbornness, threatened a retaliatory strike with a fruit cocktail catapult. With spoon cocked in Karen's hand, my Grandma dared her, and my sister struck. It hit and somehow got stuck in her glasses. The tension eased and we were in stitches.

The Bull Whip
My Grandfather, Harold White, was a true bastard. Although I will never know why my Grandmother stayed with him, she did for 13 years. But she would not let him lay a finger on my Mother or her siblings. While living in rural Florida, Harold decided to discipline the children by lashing them with a bull whip kept around for the horses they kept. My Grandmother caught sight of this and stormed out of the house. Although she was terribly afraid of this man, she confronted him. She cannot attest to how, but one moment she was before him empty handed, the next she had the whip in her hands. She sent the kids inside and gave him a warning, that if he ever harmed the kids, she would kill him. He never tried to touch them again. Eventually he would leave the family and be content living as a dead-beat dad. I remember hearing about my Grandmother's words when she found out he had passed, “Good. I'm glad the son of a bitch is dead.” My Grandmother and I often saw eye to eye.

Rolene Joyce Porubsky: The Life and Death

2010-09-27T14:16:00.001-05:00

(b. December 11th , 1937 Lake, Michigan; d. September 18th, 2009, Mt. Pleasant, Michigan)
Born the third child of Ruby Fern Bellinger and Russell E. Spence, Rolene spent her childhood in Northern Michigan. While still a young child, Rolene's parents divorced due to her father's womanizing. Her mother soon remarried to a lumberjack, Charles Donders. They settled outside of Escanaba in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan where Ruby laundered sheets for a nearby hotel. The family lived in a shack about the size of a lawnmower shed. In total, six of them shared a hovel that had neither running water nor electricity. She slept on a seat out of the back of a car, her little brother in a bassinet, and the rest of the family in a bunk bed.

They moved around throughout the 1940s to other logging areas of the UP, near cities such as Gulliver and Manistique. They amused themselves by playing simple games like “Hide the Thimble”. Ruby and Rolene described these as some of their most enjoyable moments from this time. After several years of this, the lifestyle started to wear on Ruby. After her husband refused to give up life as a logger, she left him and moved with her kids to Barrington in the Lower Peninsula of Michigan. Here she worked as a clerk and the family finally gained access to the likes of electricity and a refrigerator.

They left Barrington when Ruby remarried for the last time to Russell Kibbie of DeWitt, Michigan. Here Rolene graduated from high school. After high school and throughout her adult life, Rolene worked various odd jobs, including doing farm labor, reupholstering furniture, sewing, running delivery routes, and retrofitting RVs.

While still living with her parents in DeWitt, Rolene had frequent conflicts with her step father, Russell, which led her to marry soon after graduating from high school. After marrying, she moved in with her husband and her In-Laws. Life in her In-Laws house was strict; she was forbade from touching anything in the house, including food. After her husband refused to stand up for her or procure a place of their own, she left him, moving back in with her mother. She saw him only once more for the purpose of signing the divorce papers.

Not long after this, she met Harold White. They married and on October 20th, 1957 Rolene gave birth to twins girls, Melanie and Melodie White. Several years later, they would have a son, Michael White. When the girls were still very young, the family moved to rural Florida where they spent most of the 1960s. These years would be hard due to Harold White's emotional and physical abusiveness toward Rolene and his verbal abusiveness towards his children. When Melanie and Melodie were thirteen, he abandoned the family. This would be the second time Harold White would do this, but not the last. He contacted his children a mere handful of times for the remainder of his life. He passed away in the mid 2000s leaving six estranged children in total.

Unable to support her children on her own, Rolene moved back in with her mother and step-father in Michigan. This period would last for six months. Clashes with her step-father resumed and again she entered into a hasty marriage to a man named Dell Speice whom she had known for only six weeks. The family moved in with him in a house just outside of Ashley, MI. Dell was a drunk. As time passed, he would settle into a routine where he would seldom interact with the family. These years were hard on Rolene's two daughters due to frequent trouble with their step-brothers. Melodie married and moved out at age 17 and Melanie married and moved out at age 20.

In the late 1970s, her first Grandchildren were born, Karen and Jesse Chvojka, followed later by Jennifer, Craig, and Michelle Gingrich and then Michael and Brandon White.

Around 1980, she met Ronald (Ron) Porubsky, whom she would eventually marry.

In the early 1980s, Rolene's daughter, Melodie, separated from her husband. With nowhere else to go, her daughter and two of her grandchildren moved in with her. This caused significant friction between Rolene and Dell. Angry about the new house guests, Dell gave Rolene an ultimatum that either her daughter and grandchildren must leave or their marriage was over. Without hesitation, she left him. She soon moved into a house with her daughter, son, two grandchildren, and Ron. After six months, her daughter and grandchildren found an apartment and she reclaimed her house outside of Elsie from her ex-husband.

She lived in Elsie for several more years until moving to Farwell, MI where she lived for the remainder of her life. She and Ron bought some property and a trailer, and eventually built their business and their own house on that land. In the late 1980s, Rolene and Ron married. These were good years for Ron and Rolene. The two worked on their business, R&R, building and retrofitting RV's and campers and ran delivery routes throughout Michigan and Indiana. In their spare time, they gardened, fished, played cards, and spent times at nearby fraternal organization, the Eagles. In the late 1990s, she and Ron made plans to retire in the not to distant future and travel the country in an RV.

In 1998, Rolene lost one of her brothers, Robert Donders, to cancer. This was hard on the family and hard on her mother who had been widowed roughly 10 years before. Shortly after this, her mother began having disturbing dreams where she would see her recently deceased son and her own mother, who passed when she was just two years of age. Unable to be alone and slowly going blind, she moved in with Ron and Rolene.

In the summer of 1999, Rolene had an operation to remove part of her intestines. Due to an error on the part of the surgeon, she had a serious stroke, losing her ability to both talk and write. She was hospitalized for nearly a month. Eventually she recovered and even regained most of her speech, working with her granddaughter, Karen, who went to nearby Central Michigan University. During this time, her husband Ron began having pains near his spine. He would hide this from the family to avoid being a burden on anyone. In January of 2000 when the pain became acute, he relented and went to a doctor. An MRI showed that he had cancer and that it had already spread throughout his body. He would go into a coma a week later. He had only have several short periods of lucidness before passing away a month later. Rolene was devastated.

In the spring, Rolene would auction off the equipment from her business since she could not run on her own. Without much fanfare, she had retired.

She would care for her mother for the next four years. The family affectionately referred to the duo as “the Grandmas”. Rolene would keep busy by cooking for the Eagles and playing cards. In early 2004, both Rolene's brother, Ronald Spence, and her mother, Ruby Kibbie, passed away after battles with cancer. This was followed a few months later by her father, Russell Spence, who passed away from a stroke.

This was one of the hardest periods for Rolene. She sold her house unable to bear being in it anymore. She was alone several more years until she met a slightly cantankerous, but nonetheless charming man, Charlie Busch.

She and Charlie moved in together soon afterward. With Charlie, she was visibly happy for the first time in years. They bought property to build a house together and made plans to travel around a bit, too. Plans to travel to Florida in 2008 were scrapped when Charlie had to undergo back surgery. His recovery prevented them from going far. During this recovery process, a new problem arose.

Rolene had recently began having problems breathing. A scan found a lump in her lungs, and a biopsy showed the lump to be made of cancerous kidney cells, indicating that the cancer had not originated in the lungs. After a full body scan, tumors were found in over 20 places throughout her body including her liver, kidneys, lungs, near her spine, near her heart, and in her bones. She waived any treatment.

The doctors informed her she likely only had a month or two to live, but she held out for another seven. She passed away at Woodland Hospice in Mt. Pleasant in the presence of her daughter, Melodie, and companion, Charlie Busch. Services were held several days later, she was then cremated, and eventually interned at a cemetery outside of Clare, MI next to her late husband, Ron Porubsky, and her mother Ruby.

Rolene left behind an older brother, R.J. Spence, a younger half sister Naoma (Jerry) VanHassell, a sister-in-law, Jackie Spence, three children, Melodie Haverkate (now deceased), Melanie (Howard) Gingrich, and Michael (Yvonne) White, three stepchildren, Rhonda (Russell) Gingrich, Jane Porubsky, Karen (Richard) Tetsworth, seven grandchildren, Karen Chvojka, Jesse Chvojka, Jennifer LeVeck, Craig Gingrich, Michelle Ritchie, Michael White, and Brandon White, three great grandchildren, Lillian, Lauren LeVeck, and Mathew Ritchie in addition, at the time of her passing, two unborn great grandchildren, Dean Gingrich and Micah Chvojka.

Rolene Joyce Porubsky: The Person

2010-09-27T14:13:00.003-05:00

I adored my Grandmother. I hope this captures her as I knew her.

My Grandmother, I particularly loved her for her vices. She drank (Black Velvet Whiskey with water), smoked, gossiped, gambled, ate terribly, and swore prolifically. I feel wonder in how such a concoction of foibles made a person I respected so much.

At times, she was unsentimental to a fault. When my Mother was growing up, my Grandmother would put a sheet over the Christmas tree and store it upstairs to avoid the bother of decorating it every year.

She could be brutally stubborn. When ailing from cancer, on occasions, she would refuse to eat. No amount of discourse could change her mind.

At times she was oblivious to the troubles her children.

But she was loyal. When my Mother, Sister, and I had no where else to go and her husband tried to put us out, she left him.

She was tough. When cancer had spread to over 20 places in her body and she was in agonizing pain, if one of us asked how she was doing, she would say in a deadpan face, “I'm in a lot of pain” and would make no more mention of it.

She was energetic and in constant motion. When healthy, she hardly ever seemed to tire. I recall my Grandmother making Thanksgiving Dinner after skipping an entire night of sleep having spent the night in a casino. Little movements of hers would be filled with vigor and purposefulness. And even as she was wasting away, she would be up and down every 20 minutes.

She was loving. Before I moved to Rochester, she helped me scrape together furnishings for my apartment. When I was a kid, she would give me a ride to school on Fridays, taking time out of her delivery route. After I moved out of the state, she would would come down state to visit me each time I returned. She taught me about cooking, using tools, cast iron frying pans, morel mushrooms, and how to play cards.

This might not have been the person everyone knew, but to me she was this beautifully flawed person.

Forward

2010-09-27T14:00:00.002-05:00

I intended to post a three part series to honor my Grandmother leading up to the one year anniversary of her passing, September 18th. I had intended to do this last year, but with Micah coming, there never seemed to be time. When my Mother passed two weeks ago, I forgot this plan. We had her funeral September 17th. September 18th then became a day where everything seemed to fall apart. The worst is past I hope and I still wish to honor my Grandmother.

What originally compelled me to write about my Grandmother was a dearth of decent obituaries written for family members who had passed, but I found myself pleased with the one written for my Grandmother. The exercise has still been useful, both as a way of honoring my Grandmother and for supplementing my memory as it fades.

To follow is a three part post for my Grandmother, the Person, the Life, and Minutiae.

My Mother

2010-09-23T13:09:00.005-05:00

From:
Link

Melodie A. Haverkate
Melodie A. Haverkate St. Johns Age 52, died Monday, Sept. 13, 2010. Melodie was born on October 20, 1957 in Lansing, MI the daughter of Harold and Rolene (Spence) White. She graduated from Ashley High School in 1975 and had been in the mortgage industry for 25 years, the last 13 years as the Branch Manager for Amera Mortgage Corp. in East Lansing. Melodie enjoyed softball, fishing, the beach and her new grandson and being a "Big Sister". Survivors include her son Jesse Chvojka (Kyeorda Kemp) of Oak Park, IL, daughter Karen Chvojka of Skokie, IL, twin sister, Melanie (Howard) Gingrich of Mt. Sterling, KY, brother, Michael (Yvonne) White of Columbia, TN, grandson, Micah Chvojka. Special friend, Martin Denning of Lansing, MI. Companion, Daisy her beloved cat. Nieces, Jennifer LeVeck, Michelle Ritchie. Nephews, Craig Gingrich, Michael and Brandon White. Funeral services will be held at Keck-Coleman Funeral Home 989-224-4422 on Friday, Sept. 17, 2010 at 11:00 a.m. with Rev. Rodney Kalajainen officiating. The family will receive friends and relatives on Thursday, Sept. 16, 2010, 2 until 8 P.M. Memorials may be given to Big Brothers Big Sisters Michigan Capital Region, 1235 Center St., #A, Lansing, MI 48906. Friends may share memories, thoughts and prayers online at www.keckcolemanfh.com.

Introductions

2010-05-26T10:06:00.005-05:00

Presenting Micah James Kemp Chvojka

Born April 20th, 2010 in Chicago, IL at 11:43 pm.

Weight at birth: 9 lbs, 0 oz. Length at birth: 20.5"

Likes: Vacuum cleaners, hair dryers, being held

Dislikes: Coffee grinders, diaper changes

Aliases: Mr. Micah, Micah Man, Monster Paws, Decibels

Introducing.......

2009-12-16T10:06:00.007-06:00

Mr. Micah James Kemp Chvojka

Coming soon to a hospital near you*.

This is from our latest ultrasound, taken on Tuesday, December 8th, 2009. Kyeorda and I found out we are having a boy at a previous ultrasound. I demanded that the technician recheck during this most recent one. Still a boy. I admire his consistency. Everything looks normal. He is in the 49th percentile for size and weight almost exactly average, which is the best case scenario at this stage of the pregnancy. We have four months left, past the half-way point, which is a milestone that feels very powerful to me.

*Only near you if you live next to Prentice Hospital in downtown Chicago

Volunteering at the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio

2009-12-14T13:36:00.005-06:00

I will soon be a volunteer at the Frank Lloyd Wright Home and Studio. This is something I've wanted to do for a while. I'll start off as someone who answers simple questions, but eventually I will take "Interpreter" training. This training runs in March and is comprised of two weeks of intense classes on Tuesday evenings, Thursday evenings, as well as two full Saturdays. Interpreters give tours of the Home and Studio in addition to other historic buildings in the neighborhood.

Above is a picture from a recent tour by the Interpreter that convinced me to volunteer. I was actually recruited for this. Kyeorda and I met an Interpreter on a Saturday venture to nearby Forest Park. We will see how well I can juggle this, the baby, and trying to graduate.

Because Time Machine Parking Sounds Hokey

2009-11-02T14:23:00.004-06:00

And I do so admire Wheaton's attempt at luring those from the future to buy into it's moribund real estate market.

Rolene Porubsky (1937 - 2009)

2009-09-22T14:56:00.003-05:00

Born in Lake, MI on December 11th, 1937. Died in Mt. Pleasant, MI on Semptember 18th, 2009.

My last Grandparent.

Description of her life to follow in a week or two.

Don't Say No One Ever Told You

2009-09-14T11:33:00.005-05:00

In case anyone does not know, Kyeorda is pregnant!

Arrival is slated for April.

Año

2009-08-20T12:48:00.001-05:00

Three years and counting....

Happy Anniversary Kye!

Enforced Energy Conservation

2009-08-19T14:41:00.003-05:00

We have since settled into our apartment and discovered it comes with a handy built in feature that has been helping us save energy. I'll explain how you too can use this feature and save! It's pretty straight forward, really. First, install the old fashion style screw in fuses. These usually come in 15 Amp or 20 Amp varieties. Be sure to use the 15 Amp variety.

Second, your entire residence will need to be rewired. Here is the crucial step. Be sure to include as much of your residence as possible on a single fuse. And not just any fuse will do here. You are really going to want to use a single 15 Amp Fuse. Note, this may violate building codes in your area. Violate such codes at your own risk.

Once this is complete, you'll need to adjust to your new lifestyle. No longer can you waste energy by running two appliances at once. Want to use a dishwasher and microwave at the same time? Think again! Do you ever try to use a microwave and toaster at the same time? No longer will you be so spendthrift with energy. Do you keep your refrigerator plugged in at all times? Do you ever leave it plugged in along with ceiling fans and a TV? Well, your days of killing kilowatts is now at an end! Before long, you'll flinch at the idea of even turning on a light! And the energy savings will follow.*

*Note, price of fuses not included in savings estimate. Fuses cost $2.00-$4.50 depending upon location. Taxes not included in quoted price.

On Colors

2009-07-02T15:30:00.003-05:00

I spent my childhood submersed in blue. Deep blue shag carpet covered a good portion of my childhood home. Intense, blue plaid-patterned wallpaper stretched half-way up the walls of my bedroom; light blue paint stretched the rest. I would have made the ceiling blue given the chance. This could only have gone one of two ways, of course. I would either love or hate that color. I adopted it. As a teenager, the oddity of having a favorite color dawned on me, yet, I still orbited blue. I covered myself in it. From blue Converse, to the common blue jeans, to the plain blue T-shirts. Nearly everyday, from head to toe, I wore blue. I did this with such regularity, a few friends regarded it as my uniform. Really, it was a fascination with the color. I remember having my mind race when I heard of Picasso’s “Blue Period”. I envied him; I wanted such a momentous phase. Despite this obvious pattern, I refused to admit I had any such thing as a favorite color. I would explain that I didn’t believe in favorite colors. Nobody took me seriously on this and rightly so.

Since then, I seem to change colors with regularity. In college, I adopted a new color, slowly drifting towards dirty, army shades of green. This was mostly unconscious. Old blue T-shirts went threadbare and mostly green ones seemed to take their place. I donned an army green trench coat and would trek across campus with my green backpack. People had to point out the trend before I noticed.

Towards the end of college, orange came into style. I first met Kyeorda in my orange transition (oddly enough, I dyed my hair blue the day I met her). I recall telling her I was immune to favorite colors. She pointed out rather incredulously that I had a seven foot burnt orange couch taking up most of my bedroom and how orange objects seemed to litter my room such as a picture of Jupiter with orange trim which hung from the wall.

Fittingly enough, orange has changed to brown. There are occasional days where I’m dressed entirely in brown. Socks, shoes, pants, baseball cap, shirt, sweatshirt. I do not plan this, I simply feel comfortable at this particular moment dressed in this particular color. Kyeorda pointed out my new trend before I even noticed. This may seem unlikely, but I really am that unobservant.

It may seem absurd that I put such thought into something as trivial as favorite colors, but something about them bothers me. The mere fact of having one is not the issue. I think people adopt a favorite color when young as a way of creating an identity. I have no issue with that. It is the static aspect of it that bewilders me. But I’ve found it irritates people when I change even in small ways. Why should a matter of favorite colors surprise me? Running into high school acquaintances during college, I would hear surprise that I was not dressed in blue. A college friend got upset during my wedding reception because the wedding trivia quiz reported my favorite color as orange. A similar quiz during a wedding shower outraged family members. Not blue? Really?

I happen to enjoy my chromatic fickleness. Each color seems to fit neatly into a particular phase in my life, each one having a meaning to me. But it makes me wonder, what next? I can speculate, but the change will likely escape my attention.

FUTURE SPAM

2009-06-19T08:02:00.004-05:00

I've noticed a disturbing trend recently. Much of the SPAM I get on my Rochester email account arrives from the future. It arrives from the year 3610 to be precise. This leads me to two conclusions. One, apparently time travel is possible, at least in email form. Second, the future is our enemy. It seems it's filled with people just waiting to steal our credit card numbers.

But here's the part that just doesn't fit together. In the distant future, won't all of our credit cards be expired? Clearly these futuretonians have not thought this through.

But in all seriousness, why doesn't spamassassin tag emails with such dates in the message header as SPAM?

Impulse Stamp Buying

2009-06-11T12:25:00.003-05:00

I picked up some Simpsons stamps today! I am a sucker for buying stamps that I find interesting (see here). We still have a fair number of 42 cent stamps to use up. The Post Office even sells forever stamps, yet I continue to buy these types of stamps. I mean Simpsons stamps?!?! I can't NOT buy them! I am very much the Post Office's target customer.

Academic Genealogy

2009-06-09T13:35:00.006-05:00

Today, I found out I have a rather fascinating academic genealogy.

The first part of my academic lineage is shown below:

Peter Cooper & Horace Taft -> Yau Wai Wah -> Kevin McFarland -> Jesse Chvojka

Peter Cooper is currently at Fermilab. He is a respectable physicist. However, Horace Taft is particularly interesting in that he has two claims to fame. First, he is the grandson of the former President and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, William Taft. Second, he was a student of Enrico Fermi.

I am an academic descendant of Enrico Fermi!!! Enrico Fermi was one of the greatest physicists of the 20th century. Fermilab is named in his honor. He created the first man-made fission chain reaction. He received the Nobel Prize in Physics. He was also one of the leading physicists on the Manhattan Project.

If I trace Peter Cooper's academic lineage, I find the following path:

Isidor Isaac Rabi -> Vernon Hughes -> Peter Cooper

I am also the academic descendant of Isidor Issac Rabi!!! Rabi is remembered for saying "Who Ordered That?" upon discovering the muon. Like Fermi, he won a Nobel Prize in physics in addition to working on the Manhattan Project. Rabi also studied at points with Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg, Wolfgang Pauli and Otto Stern.

Harlem

2009-06-01T22:22:00.005-05:00

From The homestead

Kyeorda and I have moved! We grew tired of our old place. Poor maintenance and a variety of other small irritants finally drove us away. Each year for the last three years we have flirted with leaving. This year we did, to an apartment exactly one block away.

Our new place has a skylight, 1 1/2 baths, and wonderful little place to sit.

Era

2009-05-28T21:24:00.004-05:00

A decent blog post is overdue, but I couldn't pass up posting something short now. It's funny how momentous happenings can converge on a short period of time. A new cousin was born yesterday, Kye and I move this weekend, a family member goes to the hospital, and GM goes into bankruptcy, a company that touches nearly every one of my family members, many of them directly. Combined with how 2009 has unfolded, I can think of only a few other periods of my life that are or have been so pivitol. I have no belief in immortality nor do I expect life to remain still, but I find it hard to fathom when so much shifts so suddenly. But what really is hard to square is that I can think of only handful of times I've ever felt better.

Friday the 13th, Part 2

2009-03-13T12:01:00.002-05:00

It's sequel day. My cell phone is dead. My adviser is actually present at the lab. We're headed for a night, in the words of RUDY!, in "dangerous, dangerous Pilsen". Ominous signs for a Friday the 13th? We shall see.

Somber Times in the Rust Bowl

2009-03-09T21:00:00.007-05:00

Saturday, the day after a report put Michigan's unemployment rate at 11.6% and rising, I ventured home on an Amtrak train. We pulled into Battle Creek as sheets of rain pelted the earth. My mother stood on the platform, bunkered down under an awning. Once off the train, we made the dash to the car together. No matter the circumstances, it always feels good to be back in Michigan.

We drove North to Farwell with flickers of lightning peppering a dark afternoon. As waves of rain washed against the car, we discussed a hopeful future. Kyeorda and I, the possibility of a family, good progress on my experiment, where we'll go next, and the Rare Isotope Accelerator slated to begin construction in East Lansing. After an hour, the rain had mercy and we squinted our way through eerie fog.

We arrived at my Grandma's house greeted with hugs while Puggsy, her morbidly obese pug, attempted to wag his tail. Being a tragically inbred breed, the best he could muster was to wiggle his rear. Charlie sat reading his paper in a chair. After a little catching up, a bit of Cribbage, and chatter over whether GM will go down, we headed to what doubles as a center of culture in the area, the Eagles. We ate bland, greasy Salisbury Steak, my treat, and caught up with grizzled locals. Evelyn and her nearly deaf husband, Hank, old friends of my Grandmother, stopped by too. Hank asked polite questions, but couldn't hear any of my responses. Evelyn charmed us with her oddly pleasant fussing.

That evening consisted mostly of Euchre and cheap whiskey, my Mother opting for wine-in-a-box. Charlie and my Mother were cut throat, winning game after game of Euchre. These times with my grandmother are surprisingly pleasant, even though her body is fading fast. In a period of three months, the changes have been dramatic. Her hair, jet black until recently, is turning grey. Her skin on her face and neck now sags. Her breath is heavy and wheezy. Her eyesight, out of the eye that she can see out of that is, is dimming fast. Her memory is fading too. Earlier in the evening, she asked whether I knew how to play cribbage when it was she who had taught me many years ago, after we've played at least a hundred times.

Sunday, my Mom and Grandmother headed to church under shockingly sunny skies. But the sun soon faded while I worked, listening to a little John Cash. When Charlie awoke, we headed toward town. We took his truck, passing by rows of foreclosed properties. Charlie, always happy to tell a story, explained the plight of some of the residences. Our destination was a cemetery, closer to Clare than Farwell. It was my task to show him where my family's plot lay. A place my Grandma, with her very unsentimental view of the world, never goes. We passed by stones from the late 1800s, some of them overturn, other in ruins. The cemetery, like everything else in Clare, is slowly crumbling. After the perfunctory moment at the stone, we headed home as Charlie explained that only two factories remained open in the area. The area is sinking with little hope.

That could be the story of anywhere in Michigan, really. Once, fairly recently, nearly a million people in Michigan worked in factories. That number has plummeted to a quarter of a million.

The rest of the day went quickly. A greasy breakfast at a hole in the wall. Anecdotes about the dog. A picture of my Great Grand Mother, Grandmother, and two of her brothers. Some odd bits I always wanted to know. What was Great Grandma's middle name? Fern. Ruby Fern Ballinger. Did all of my grandma's siblings have the initials RJ? No. Just my uncle RJ and Grandmother, Rolene Joyce Probusky. Where was she born? Lake. Lake, Michigan, not to be confused with Lake Michigan. Where did she live before she moved to the Upper Peninsula (the UP for those of you in the know)? St. Helen, MI.

The rain struck again as we drove back to my Mom's place. As we battled our way home, my Mom discussed complications in my cousin's pregnancy and ways to rescue a drowning business. The evening was pictures of better days (and black eyes) as constant news shows with dismal content blathered on.

This morning, I headed back toward Chicago. I would receive very ominous news on the train. News so upsetting, I cannot even write it which will be hard to imagine in a moment.

But before then, the Grey Hound through a sad Lansing to old Cereal City, Battle Creek. A beautiful, but rusting town. I really do feel like every Tom Waits song was written there. Freaks and punks. A man the with big bright yellow teeth, jaundice face, and rolling, rambling speech. The disturbing laugh he had given that this took place after the coming accident, which I had the good fortune not to witness when it struck. The homeless swarming about the station. An unforeseen and unfortunate ending to the trip happened there in Battle Creek. As I waited for the Amtrak, a gentlemen walked down the tracks kicking stones. He willfully stepped over to a neighboring track, knelt down, and was erased.

The Unluckiest Number

2009-02-13T12:33:00.005-06:00

In honor of Friday the 13th, I present this, what I believe to be the true unluckiest number.

It's from the emergency stairway in the Fermilab highrise. I've always been amused that the half floors have labels. I'm particularly fond of the font as well.

And I couldn't pass up this particular Friday the 13th. I've always loved the day, mostly out of spite for superstition. But this particular Friday the 13th is significant because it comes with a sequel. Since this isn't a leap year, next month will have one too. I remember when this happened in 1998, I stopped my English teacher in the middle of her lesson to point out the momentous occasion.

And to add to the grandeur of the day, Linux time hits 1234567890 today! That's the number of seconds since January 1st, 1970. Why count from that arbitrary date? I do not know, but we should reach that milestone at 17:31:30 central time.

It Snowed Today!

2009-01-28T16:31:00.003-06:00

So what you may say?

Reading through some really old emails today, I realize I used to announce such things in my messages. What has happened to me? It's like I don't even know how to appreciate these types of little pleasures anymore.

And an aside thought, I don't think I realized how much most people really don't like snow. How fun that I would be cheerful so about it. That must have been obnoxious.

DID YOU KNOW THAT IT SNOWED TODAY?!

Lean Times

2009-01-18T18:06:00.003-06:00

Of course I'm not referring to the current economic situation or the deflationary spiral we are likely entering. No. Rather, I refer to our current peanut butter crisis. The FDA has warned consumers not to eat peanut butter due to a Salmonella outbreak, the cause of which is still unknown. Since, this is one of my largest food sources, this makes for some hard times. What do other people eat anyway? But fear not. I will make do someway, somehow.

January

2009-01-06T12:41:00.003-06:00

It's that time, the coldest month of the year, where the owners of our apartment decide to replace every window in the building. This imminent loss of any sort of heat in our apartment and the reluctance of my car to start if it drops below 10 F is causing my love of January to be shaken. My second favorite month! This is most disturbing.

The Black Hole

2008-12-09T12:31:00.006-06:00

I often find myself alone in finding something amusing. I'll try explaining a joke to others and get puzzled looks. Perhaps I have a warped sense of humor. As an example, I present this picture taken in the highrise at Fermilab.

My mind races with all that is wrong with this labeling.

Really, the "Black Hole" is a meeting room to the left of the women's bathroom. But there is definitely ambiguity in which room the phrase is referring to. Someone ought to fix it, but who would I tell? To add to the absurdity of this is a claim I have heard regarding the meaning of the phrase "Black Hole" in Russian.

Autumnal Review

2008-12-08T13:26:00.010-06:00

Posted are pictures depicting various moments of this fall. The size of this post is mostly a result of internet connection problems on the Windows side of my laptop.

To recap, this fall, I got an iPhone. Rudy kindly informed me that this demonstrates that I'm a yuppie. No matter. I've had cheap cell phones for the past five years and decided to finally get a decent one with features like a well functioning address book. All pictures are from my iPhone.

My first pictures were of Kyeorda.

She is amused I'm taking a second shot.

And now suspicious of my motivations upon my third shot.

My experiment is now under full construction after FIVE years. Here is the beginnings of our detector:

I love the geometry of it. It's beautiful. I suppose I'm particularly fond of hexagons. We've taken cosmic ray data with it too. Eventually, this will all be installed 300 feet underground.

In October, I took a trip back to Michigan to see my Mom for her birthday. We took a color tour of Michigan. A color tour is a tour to see trees while they are at their fall color peak for those who don't know this term. This is off a random road we turned down on a whim.

During this trip, I realized how much I miss Michigan. It really is a beautiful state and Chicago just doesn't offer up as picturesque autumns.

We also swung by Tippy Dam, also on a whim. I had no idea this place existed nor that fly fishing was so popular in Michigan.

Fly fishers lined both shores of the river for over a half mile downstream. We walked downstream and saw this first hand. We made a picnic of watching the fishermen. People were catching a surprising amount of fish. This was spawning season for whatever they were catching (salmon perhap?). People were catching one, two, three foot long fish. I've never seen anything like it.

I have mixed feelings about dams. On one hand, I think they are beautiful and am a sucker for large scale structures. The low emissions electricity is admirable too. On the other hand, they disrupt the ecosystem in a serious way.

I still like this dam.

From there, we went on to Manistee. This is a charming lakeside town. I hadn't been here in over 15 years.

My mother is a sucker for lighthouses so this stop was for her. We took this shot from an opposing pier. I'm a sucker for piers.

On our way back, we stopped at a lookout over a gorge. I love this bridge. It is not ornate in any way, the attractiveness comes entirely from the steel.

I believe this is Pine Creek that the bridge spans. We walked under the bridge only to get swarmed by lady bugs. Although not visible in the photo, they were thick.

I managed to make a stop at the Oak Park Conservatory in late October. I haven't had as much time lately to devote to tree watching or conservatories. I was amused that frogs roam wild in this conservatory.

I found out that they have a century plant here. It flowered back in the 1970s. I'm hoping it will do so again before Kyeorda and I move.

Of course we got wrapped up in the election. We volunteered for Get Out the Vote work in Indianapolis which I mentioned in another post. This had been such an long and intense election, it feels good for it to be over. We had the good fortune to be in Grant Park at end of it. None of the pictures turned out too well. It was busy at a level I have never witness before. This is on Michigan Avenue before we met up with some friends to get in a line that wrapped around Grant Park.

Once in the event, we found that our view was less than spectacular. We didn't mind.

It's hard to get a feel for how large a crowd is while in it, but this is a sea of 100,000 people. People swarmed other parts of Grant Park too. Eventually, Michigan Avenue came to a halt in addition to basically then entire loop (pretty much half of downtown Chicago).

I couldn't let myself believe that Obama would win until he actually did. So hearing Ohio called for Obama was exciting. Once the networks called Virginia, everyone knew that Obama had won. We all went wild.

On a side note, I think the authorities jammed our cell phones. Half an hour before Obama's speech, everyone lost reception and all I could get through were the occasional text message. Perhaps this was due to everyone using their phone at once, but when the speeches were over, our service came back.

This is on our way out.

While walking out, we could see silhouettes of people (snipers) on top of buildings along the Michigan Avenue Street Wall. Quite the sight.

Here Sharon and Nate pose.

We were their guests for the event. Without them, we would not have had a ticket and would not have gotten in. Thank you Nate and Sharon!

We took our traditional trip back to Michigan for Thanksgiving. We played Monte Python Fluxx, put together a lighthouse puzzle for my Mom, were shown this year's deer antlers by my Dad, and got snowed-in in Grand Rapids. Here is our Aunt Rosie finally allowing herself to be photographed.

This is myself looking as ridiculous as possible.

I was going for 19th century villain. Kyeorda helped add to the spirit by shouting "Save me! Save me! Won't somebody save me!" I then trimmed up.

And here is our humble Christmas tree.

We have purple LED lights on the interior of the tree. Purple LED lights = awesome, but I wonder if they kick out UV. My eye glass lenses change tone in UV so I'll test this soon.

Freedom from Fiction

2008-12-02T13:52:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, after making a harrowing trip back from Grand Rapids, Michigan in which we battled sleet and snow, Kyeorda and I were able to finish a project that spanned the entire autumn; we finished the last episode of Six Feet Under. I recommend the series. It's a good way to fill 50 hours, which is the unholy amount of time that we spent watching the five seasons of the show. I generally do not like TV shows, but this one was rather good. The characters are very real, at times charming or repulsive. Kyeorda and I would spend entire evenings analyzing a character or a major event.

Despite looking forward to getting the next disk in the mail from Netflix, I feel a sense of freedom now that we've watched the last episode. I get this feeling most times when I finish a long book or series. As I near the end, I feel feverish and yearn to be done and then comes the feeling of freedom. I think it's a freedom from a compulsion I feel to watch or read something. A sadness comes with this freedom too. I can't help but get emotionally invested in fiction and when something finally comes to an end, there is a sadness that these lives I've watched are over.

This show has also killed our movie watching, so on a cheerful note, we can start watching movies again this coming weekend. We'll hold off on any extended series for a few months.

Palin Leaving a Mark

2008-11-10T17:40:00.003-06:00

This is a bit mean spirited I fully admit, but "Palin" is apparently entering the English language. From Urban Dictionary:

Palin
1. An applicant lacking even basic job skills
2. Someone supremely un-self-aware or lacking any relative sense of what he/she does or doesn't know.
HR sent me another Palin for the marketing manager job.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=palin

I may post some pictures from election night, but then hopefully I can stop posting about just politics.

Crashing Borders and Marathons Near You

2008-11-03T10:44:00.005-06:00

This weekend, Kye and I took a trip to Indiana for some Get Out the Vote (GOTV) work. Getting there, we had a few bumps on the way. A traffic jam in Northern Indiana delayed us for 45 minutes. Between there and Indianapolis, it was some smooth sailing. We even thought we'd make it to the field office by noon, until the marathon. Traffic was backed up by about a mile and we were clueless to the cause at first. As we crept across a bridge, we saw the marathoners. They were turning onto our street and if a runner needed to cross, all traffic stopped. After crossing the bridge, we idled next to the runners in a single lane while they trotted along in their spacious two lanes. We needed to make a right, but could find no way to cross.

Finally, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I hopped out of the car and approached a police officer directing traffic to see just how far this marathon would go on. He promptly waved a cluster of cars onward, including ours, which Kyeorda was driving. Kye tried to slow down, but got even more emphatic waves from the officer. I figured that since I was out of the car now, I might as well get an answer. I got my answer, but when I looked up, I couldn't see Kye. She was out of sight. I started briskly walking on the sidewalk and then broke into a jog. I started getting cheers from spectators. I resumed walking out of shame. A phone call from Kyeorda prompted me to get back to running. So, I proudly ran 100 yards of the Indianapolis Marathon. I crushed the competition. Who cares if they were on mile 21? Not me and they were no match. I caught up to her just before traffic cleared.

From there, it was onward to business. The field office was a vacant house loaned to the campaign. The mansion directly across the street sported a McCain sign along with an angry dog barking at us no good Democrats. The office was frothing with activity. Volunteers streamed in all day and more than half were from Chicago. Too many showed up and got shipped to other offices in the city. Somebody staffed the kitchen since food and coffee seemed to disappear as quickly as it was produced. The excitement was infectious.

As for us, we hit up over a 100 doors. We chatted with a number of pedestrians too. The neighborhood we canvassed leaned overwhelmingly toward Obama, but we ran into a few McCain supporters too. I also narrowly prevented Kyeorda from adopting a stray dog.

This was my first time volunteering for such an operation and I was impressed. The organization was phenomenal. People would just walk in and would be put to work. On the day we canvassed, a little over 95,000 doors were visited just in Indianapolis out of a total of 320,000 households.

On Sunday, we did a bit of office work. Nothing too exciting, we just assembled the packets people take out canvassing. And then we headed back to relax to what seems to be our newest pastime, watching Six Feet Under on DVD.

She Calls 'em like She Sees 'em

2008-10-08T12:43:00.004-05:00

After watching the debate last night, Kyeorda and I got into a discussion about undecided voters. I'm always flummoxed by such people. How after a year of bombardment of election coverage could you not have an opinion? I've never understood this so Kyeorda gave me her hypothesis. She broke undecided voters down in the following way:
1) Just want attention
2) Just plain stupid
3) Racist Democrats

That seemed like a pretty good list to me. About 20 minutes later, the Daily Show came on. In a bit by John Oliver, he looked at these same voters. Here's his list of who these undecided voters are:
1) The Chronically Insecure
2) Attention-Seekers
3) Racist Democrats
4) The stupid (45% of all undecided voters according to Oliver)

Kye missed the insecure types, but the issue is settled for me. Leading expert agree on three out of four of the reasons why some voters can't make up their damn mind:
1) Too damn stupid
2) Want the attention
3) Too damn racist to vote in their self-interest

Case closed.

By Order of RUDY!

2008-09-29T13:06:00.004-05:00

Following the instruction on RUDY!'s blog,

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next seven sentences in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.

From "C++ An Introduction to Computing",

These modifiers have the following effects:

> A short int (or just short) is usually a 16-bit value, ranging from from -32678 (= -2^15) through 32767 (= 2^15 - 1)
> A long int (or just long) is usually a 32-bit value, ranging from -2147483648 (= -2^21) through 2147483647 (= 2^31 - 1)

Programmers who are concerned with efficiency or portability can use short for integer data objects with relatively small values and long for those that may have larger values. In this text we will use int in most of our examples.
The internal representation of an integer typically uses one bit as a sign bit, so that the largest positive value of a 16-bit integer is 2^15-1 and not 2^16-1 (see PART OF THE PICTURE that follows this section). However, some date objects have negative values.

BORING! Thanks a lot Rudy, thanks a lot.

Not so Routine METRA Delay

2008-09-05T19:16:00.007-05:00

I left the lab early today with the intention of working some place more pleasant for the afternoon. This did not happen. When the train pulled up, we were informed that there was some police activity in Wheaton and there would be delays. I figured, I have a book to read, I'll chance it. After 10 minutes of a train ride, we pulled up to the train that was supposed to have passed through an hour before. Next came silence and waiting. After about fifteen minutes, we were informed of some sort of hostage situation in a bank. FBI agents were present and the perimeter around the scene included the train tracks. No inbound or outbound trains were passing through. We eventually switched over to the parallel train with the wheel chair lift acting as a gang plank. My original train headed back to the outer suburbs with our train following about 20 minutes later. And then, I was back at my train station, West Chicago.

I made the most of it, walking into downtown West Chicago. I toured the strip, stopped by a good Mexican restaurant, explored an antique shop, and scrounged through a decent second hand shop, coming away with a few bargains. This was the sliver lining for the day. I have wanted to explore the downtown for over three years now. It also fulfilled my need to explore which I feel increasingly compelled to do. In the end, it amounted to a four how delay and a five hour commute.

The situation ended rather sadly (see the Chicago Tribune article).

New Wheels

2008-08-19T12:34:00.005-05:00

I am now the proud owner of a slightly rusty 1989 Toyota Corolla station wagon!

The price was right, just $100. Of course that doesn't include the sales tax, title, registration, plates and insurance. Together, they cost much more than $100, but with a nearly full tank of gas and a parking spot near the train station which is paid up for the next two months, it comes out to be a pretty good deal.

I've been looking forward to this for awhile. I'll be leaving the slightly rusty 1989 Toyota Corolla station wagon parked at the train station which includes weekends. Our nice car can now stay at our apartment all week. This allows me to cut out about two hours of driving per week since I don't need to drive to Fermilab at the beginning of the week and back to Oak Park at the end of the week (the car stayed parked at the train station on week nights). Getting the car also means using less gas, having a car available in Oak Park during week nights, and having two additional hours per week to read. We can even use the slightly rusty 1989 Toyota Corolla to haul moderate sized pieces of furniture! Really, the only hang up is that the car has a manual transmission which I don't know how to drive, just a minor detail, though.

No Ticket

2008-08-08T14:29:00.004-05:00

On my morning commute to Fermilab, the Metra slowed to a crawl while passing through Maywood. We coasted along until we reached the train platform. Standing on the platform were two stern, beefy looking police officers each with the traditional cop mustache. They quickly stepped aboard, marched to the far end of my car, and confronted a 30ish white guy. A quiet conversation ensued. It was all rather serious. I could see him reaching down into his pockets, first one, then another. After about two minutes of this, the police escorted him outside. Everyone stared at the spectacle, myself included. After they passed me by, the focus of fellow commuters lingered. I had the overwhelming compulsion to stand up, point backwards at the departing party with my thumb, and say, "No ticket!" Indiana Jones style. I wish I had. I have frequent compulsions to act out in dramatic theatre fashion, but never have the courage to do so.

Overhearing a conversation by a conductor, I found out, indeed, the man had no ticket. He refused to either pay for one or leave the train. I don't know what he was thinking.

Future Shock

2008-08-06T10:08:00.003-05:00

I have a new iPod! Kyeorda gave it to me as an early anniversary present. I am genuinely impressed with the little guy. In fact, I'm suffering from a bit of future shock. It has 2 GB of space which is the same as a decent usb drive. In case the picture doesn't give a good sense of scale, it's about the same size as a pack of Bazooka Joe bubblegum. That's the part that blows my mind, the compactness of it. I'm already putting it to good use; I can block out the annoying cell phone conversations of my fellow commuters again.

Frank Lloyd Fright or Our Weekend of Terror

2008-07-27T21:46:00.013-05:00

Kye and I had an eventful weekend filled with no actual terror. Friday ended with dinner at Jorge's, one of the co-spokespersons of my experiment. We ate phenomenal Mexican food, Kyeorda made a new friend, and we admired Jorge and Maria's beautiful Victorian house.

Saturday was busy. We finished assembling some new grown up chairs, cleaned house, and watched The Dark Knight with a few friends. It was a great movie, but I still had inflated expectations. I can't quite pinpoint what I wanted that was not there, but I felt slightly disappointed. What the movie did have was perhaps the greatest movie villain of all time. Heath Ledger successfully remade the Joker. I don't think I could watch Tim Burton's Batman without feeling Jack Nicholson's Joker is lacking, a true accomplishment for Ledger. Also to the movie's credit was the setting. I am certainly biased towards Chicago, I have never loved a place as much as this city, but the setting really grounded the movie. It made the movie real in a way the previous movies were not while giving it a gritty feel. I made a game of identifying the various Chicago icons. Overall, I recommend the movie.

I also caught trailers to two movies I'm eagerly awaiting. One is Blindness, a movie based on Jose Saramago's novel. The second is Watchmen, a phenomenal graphic novel. I've heard whisperings of Blindness, but Watchmen was a bombshell to me.

Today, we took a trip to Frank Lloyd Wright's home and studio just a mile from our apartment. This is a destination I've long wanted to visit. The trip fit in well with a new mission I've set for myself, to visit a list of Chicago area architectural gems. I'll post my list at some point. I have mixed feelings about Wright which I can't fully articulate in this post. Overall, I liked his Oak Park house. The Children's Play Room was the highlight of the tour. This is a vaulted room on the second floor.

It has a beautiful color scheme and good dimensions. It is an entirely unique space. I yearn for such a room. My second favorite room was Wright's drafting room in the studio portion of the building.

I was disappointed with Wright's lack of attention to the kitchen or other areas frequented by servants. I am disturbed by this for several reasons. The kitchen is generally my favorite room in a house. Lack of attention to the kitchen and other servant areas makes his house incomplete. Ignoring the design of the kitchen interferes with the open floor plan design that he supposedly preferred. Last, I find it insulting to the servants. This ties in with some of the issues I have with Wright, but I can't help but like the work he does.

Other highlights include our tour guide at one point referring to Frank Lloyd Wright as "Frank Lloyd Fright" while we were touring his bedroom. That left me pondering what meaning lay behind her slip of the tongue.

I had the privilege of seeing an old Gingko tree in the yard that has been standing even longer than Wright's house. That dates the tree at more than 120 years old.

Kye and I left the Wright's home and studio brainstorming what sort of house we would concoct if we had such freedom. Much to my surprise, Kyeorda wanted a bird shaped house.

29

2008-07-06T10:46:00.003-05:00

Random thoughts from our Birthday weekend:

I can remember when my mother was 29.

Kyeorda reached her 3 cubed age.

We discovered one of our friends was in the circus while in college. She was the amazing human jump rope.

A friend ruled Helen Keller as not funky.

We discovered the existence of Paper, Rock, Scissors tournaments taking place in some fine bars within the city of Chicago.

We still have to share our Birthday with the oaf who is our president, George W. Bush.

Hulk no like lightening.

July 3rd is still the craziest day to ever visit downtown Chicago.

Sports channels are AWESOME! AWESOME! So our friend Sharon convinced us.

That must be one of those Plutoid Thingies

2008-06-15T19:46:00.004-05:00

In a move that brings me great happiness, Pluto (formerly considered a planet) has been upgraded from the pejorative tittle, dwarf planet, to a much more respectable category, plutoid. What is Pluto, it is a plutoid of course!

We figured it out in the Workship

2008-06-05T16:15:00.003-05:00

Just ask Rep. Bill Foster. As for me, I'm going to a workship tomorrow on Project X. Plans are in the works to change the name too! Apparently, the higher ups learned a thing or two about radioactive ape torture.

Like School on Saturdays.....

2008-06-04T13:31:00.005-05:00

...no class.

Who else could I be talking about? Clinton. I don't know why it's important to me. Perhaps it some sense of honor that I have ingrained in me. I just cannot tolerate someone who does not have at least a certain level of class. Last night was one of the most crass moves I have ever witnessed.

Paraphrasing what I've read elsewhere regarding Clinton as the VP:

Don't do it Obama! She. Will. Kill. You.

42

2008-06-02T19:31:00.004-05:00

On the 11th floor of the highrise at Fermilab, a clock counts down the seconds to the date that the LHC will turn on.

How will you spend your 42 days until them? Worried? Some people are. I'm not, but I'm going to treat it like a Douglas Adams version of Lent. I'm not sure what that will entail, but it will be fun. I'll decide on something tonight. Perhaps I'll reread his books.

$4.079

2008-05-19T16:18:00.004-05:00

I just bought my first tank of four dollar gas. It was from a station two blocks from my apartment. Prices are cheaper in the far out suburbs, but alas, I could not wait.

I recall buying:
$1 gas in 1998
$2 gas in 1999
$3 gas in 2005
$4 gas in 2008 (now)

Current gas prices have a little bit of a future shock feel to me.

A Little Too Funky

2008-05-06T10:29:00.006-05:00

And just like that, the novelty is gone. The dysfunctional IPOD has lost it's charm. Does that mean I've stopped listening to it? Nope. It's the only thing I got, unfortunately. I have to use Scientific Linux 4.5 for the work I do since my experiment's software is very machine dependent. This particular release of Scientific Linux lacks the driver for my particular sound card. That means I can't play CDs. To block out the office banter, I'm stuck with the IPOD. Maybe I'll give ear plugs a shot. Or do the most logical thing, fix the IPOD. Since I have some traveling coming up this weekend, that doesn't seem too likely. Que sera sera.

The Psychedelic IPOD Experience

2008-05-02T10:36:00.006-05:00

Within the past two days, my IPOD developed the ability to make all songs psychedelic. Most songs now feature heavy vibrato with a touch of reverb, but effects can vary. The sounds of certain instruments are now gone. One song is completely muffled, like hearing a rock band that's playing a gig down the street. In some songs, all percussion except the bass drum is stripped. Sometimes percussion is only a snare, other times, the percussion is there, but only audible as a ghostly beating. The bass guitar seems to be absent in every song. Sometimes the vocals are there as melodic whispering, like when I play M. Ward. Other times, it's choppy. Keyboard and piano sound oddly normal, but all the guitars sound crisp and haunting. As a whole, the music has a watery and other-worldy sound, but it's surprisingly relaxing.

If I torque the head phone plug just right, the songs all take on their normal characteristics. Upon inspection of the headphone port, I noticed heavy corrosion on the metal contacts. I've dismantled my IPOD before to replace the battery so replacing the head phone jack or simply removing it to clean it would be pretty straight forward. I would enjoy the project, but I believe for now, I'll simply enjoy my new psychodelifying IPOD.

Happy Belated Arbor Day!

2008-04-30T14:50:00.005-05:00

Since I only realized today that Arbor Day had passed me by, I took a stroll around Fermilab to "celebrate". I mostly spent time trying to identify spruces and pines that have been planted as ornamentals, but I also spent time just admiring the scenery. I identified a Red Pine, a White Spruce, and a Red Spruce for the first time. Conifers are where I have the most trouble. Pegging the genus is no problem, this is a pine tree (Pinus), that's a spruce (Picea), these are cedars (Cedrus), etc., but finding the actual species can be very tricky. Generally, I can narrow it down to two or three species, but then get stuck. Trees can be pesky when it comes to identification anyhow. Environmental conditions frequently affect morphology, the size of leaves being an example. Really, it's a matter of practice and knowing which few particular traits to watch for.

On a side note, there will be no pictures for a while since the LCD screen on my camera was cracked during my trip to the APS conference in St. Louis. The camera still works, but the lack of a working LCD screen makes getting decent looking pictures significantly harder.

Happy Belated Arbor Day!

Breaking the Law

2008-04-19T14:50:00.007-05:00

Those who know me will notice this is in clear violation of my no internet on Saturday Law. Breaking the law is fun. I granted myself immunity since I am in the midst of recovering from the worst bout of sickness that I've had since I can remember. I got back from the APS meeting in St. Louis on Tuesday and have been sick since then. It has been three feverish days of exhaustion and confusion. A package arrived discussing a 600 Megawatt laser and time travel. Like this is supposed to help? It added to the surreality of the time. I coped with the days by using a healthy dose of Simpsons Season #3. I hope to post on my trip soon, but this at least ends the drought of posting.

LIFO UP, LILO DOWN

2008-03-02T10:18:00.005-06:00

Such was the case for my trip to the observation deck in the John Hancock Tower. I've been meaning to make such a trip since I moved to the area. Although I generally like heights, I literally felt vertigo when I stepped off the elevator.

I think my brain was overwhelmed. Maybe it's the vanishing points when I looked down. After two minutes, the feeling left me and I could walk around with ease.

My love of skyscrapers drew me up there. I'm fascinated by them for many reasons. I think they are beautiful. I am very fond of dense urban areas. I love the view of skylines. I think the last reason is a result of growing up in the flat Midwest. Anything that dares ascend above the flat earth is somehow heroic to my.

But I think what really entrances me is how fragile they are. I'm not referring to 9/11 so let me quell that notion. The thought that crosses my mind is that if we all disappeared, they would crumble so quickly, likely within 10 years. Skyscrapers are complex monstrosities that require diligent upkeep. People swarm over them like ants ensuring that the building is protected from the elements and that the foundation is pumped free of water. The facade is constantly maintained. The interiors are gutted every 30 years or so. I think they are very much a parable of human civilization, impressive but vulnerable and really rather ephemeral.

This last is a view of the Michigan Avenue street wall heading South. It was a gray, hazy day, but it's still intoxicating for me.

Am I the only one?

2008-02-19T19:49:00.004-06:00

Am I the only one who gets deeply insulted by the content of some spam email messages? I feel like the offensiveness of such messages is only being refined.

Simple Math

2008-01-24T23:16:00.000-06:00

Temperature inside: 90 F

Temperature outside: 0 F

Difference: 90 F

It actually makes it unpleasant to go either inside or outside. I'd like to see the difference get to 100 F. It may.

Matters of the Ego

2008-01-18T13:39:00.000-06:00

From the home page of The University or Rochester's Physics and Astronomy Department:

That would be me (the fellow in the orange shirt) in the upper right hand corner. The green optical fibers and the white object they connect to is the VST, a project that I spent a year working on.

I am officially famous.

It needs to be said

2008-01-10T10:35:00.000-06:00

Mathew Broderick sucks and "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" is overrated.

I am Atari

2008-01-09T14:47:00.000-06:00

Looking for this?

Chances are if you are here, you are indeed looking for this image. Something like 80+% of traffic to the site is from people in search of it. If you are a genuine non-Atari related visitor, go to Google Images and type in "atari picture" and I am one of the first people to come up. I'm still somewhat in awe of this. Those search words are rather commonplace and generic.

So what's the deal? I hotlinked the above image in a post I made back in June (Weird Vitamin Guy). But why does my blog come up instead of the original owner of the image? I'm not sure. My friend Rudy had some theories that have slipped my mind (feel free to expound Rudy), but I think it involves the owner of the image not tagging that image very well.

This whole phenomenon comes and goes. I got heavy Atari related traffic for a few months in the fall, but it died away. Since Christmas, I've had a new surge of Atari related visits. It won't last, but I'm enjoying the quirkiness of it in the mean time.

Holiday Soujorn

2008-01-03T20:27:00.000-06:00

Like most years, Kye and I made a busy trip back to Michigan for Christmas. Our tour started with our friend Sharon hitching a ride with us back to the Detriot area. It made for a fun drive. We talked about movies and environmentalism; I practiced mouth breathing.

We payed a visit to our good friends Kibibi and Rachael and the unborn version of Sebastian Xavier Dorn (born Dec. 26th, we plan on just calling the kid 'X'). We hung out with Mr. and Mrs. Kemp. Mrs. Kemp lost at cards (she was 'tired'). And Rudy sent out a cry for help and but he was left stranded at Detroit's airport. The Kemps were Mississippi bound so we headed to the Lansing area to spend Christmas Eve and Day with my family, but not before having breakfast with the Danpollo kids. We made sure to get them nice and hyper before leaving. Some Monopoly and candy did the trick.

Christmas Eve was the usual dinner and presents with the extended family.

I finally gave my grandma her Birthday card 13 days late. We had presents with my Mom too.

The next day, we had our first Christmas in my Dad and Step-Mom's new house. I tried out my timer on my camera for the first time. The picture below is of us racing to get in the shot in time.

Presents and dinner were in order. Below is the Christmas day aftermath.

I got what ranks as my favorite present of all time.

I am in love with this carpet. It's from my Dad's old place. He and my Step-Mom have talked for years of remodeling the house (they ended up building a new one). I asked them not to get rid of this carpet, that I wanted it. Originally, I hoped to use it for my dorm room. Once my life in dorms came to an end, I forgot about it. Apparently, they did not. The once covered the entire living room, but they had a piece of it made into a rug for me. The present was written as being from "Days gone by". I think of this as 6 square feet of my own reality. Some of my oldest memories take place on this carpet. I'm some what obsessed with the past and with time. I think that's why I like little treasures like this.

In the evening, I took a tour of the yard. This is my old stomping ground. This is one of my dreamscapes that I described in a previous post. Here is their new house:

This is the forbidden tree:

I was not allowed to climb this tree while growing up and I'm proud to say I never did. It was planted there the year I was born. It's a beautiful tree, probably my favorite of any tree. My Dad claims it's pin oak, but I think it's a red oak. Red oaks are tricky since the morphology of the leaves vary greatly between individuals within the species. I suppose I'll have to wait to find some acorns to settle it.

I walked by the old creek too.

This used to amuse my sister, step-brothers, and I for hours. We would watch tad poles, try to catch frogs, or slide along it when it froze over.

It's odd walking through the yard. Some trees have grown up, some trees and buildings are gone, others are new, drive ways are in different places, but when I see the yard in my mind, it's still the yard of my childhood. The yards feels as though it has shrunk. I remember it as being infinite. It is such an odd sensation. It's like I've outgrown the yard.

We spent the night at my Dad's that night. It doesn't feel like sleeping in the old house, but it's good to grow familiar with the place.

Over the next two days, we hung out with my Mom. I got to visit my friend Charlie and his wife, drank coffee at the Wheel and played Chrononauts with Kenny and Nicole, had a raging late night religious debate with my friend Josh, and lost miserably in Pinochle to my Mom. It took some rather unscrupulous playing where I deliberately lost and gave all my points to Kyeorda to finally beat her. She's still a little sore over that.

We intended to leave three days after Christmas, but a snow storm stretching from Michigan to Chicago barred our way. I made the best of it.

We had breakfast with our friend Melissa the morning the storm hit. It was clear when we sat down to eat, but the storm was on us when we payed the bill.

We finally made it home, but the snow wasn't done with us. We got hit again on New Years Eve and Day.

A fine start to the new year.

The Arrow of Time

2007-12-18T17:54:00.000-06:00

Life seems to be an irreversible process. I don't think I could bear living if this weren't true. It makes everything I do feel worthwhile.

Dream Home Exile

2007-11-30T12:06:00.000-06:00

One setting persistently reoccurs in my dreams. This dreamscape is my Father and Stepmother's place and the surrounding land. Most dreams that I can recall occur here. It doesn't matter what sort of dream it is. The dreams can be inside, outside, or down the road. They can be violent, mundane, involve anyone, and even be anywhere in the world, but this will be the setting.

Last spring, this house in which I spent the first few years of my life, and weekends after my parents split, was demolished. It was leveled to make room for a new house that will be my Dad and Stepmother's retirement home. They plan to die there. While I admire what they are doing, I was disturbed because this is my dream home. This is where I dream. I worried whether I could still dream here if this place is gone. I've dreamed of people I've know who have died, but can I dream of a dead place? I haven't dreamed of the house since it's been gone and it's been nine months since the picture.

I really haven't paid much attention to my dreams lately, but I had the first one I can recall in a while just last night. It took place in the yard, but I never once could see the house. I didn't think to try, rather I was surprised it wasn't there after I awoke. The new house is now finished and occupied. Will I start inhabiting the house or will I keep living in the yard? I'm happy to be back either way.

As for the picture (that's my Dad in the foreground), I like how the roof droops. It seems very dreamlike to me. I like that I can see inside bits familiar to me, namely, the stairway railing and the brick of the fire place. I've dreamed of the house getting torn apart by tornadoes (prior to its actual destruction). It is an eternally bizarre sight to see it actually split in half.

My favorite place is a place to sit

2007-11-12T22:59:00.001-06:00

This is now my favorite place to sit.

This spot is at Buzz Cafe. I only discovered it yesterday. Buzz Cafe is a cool little place on the Southeast side of Oak Park. For some reason, I haven't really explored the area. Some treasures close to the cafe are a used CD/vinyl shop and a resale shop. I herald the resale shop as a great discovery in particular. I've been looking for a decent one for a while. The Goodwill and Salvation Army shops in the area have been disappointments.

So what is the big deal about finding this spot? First, I've been disappointed with cafes in the area. I go to the cafe in Borders frequently, but it's a mediocre place with a serious lack of outlets and bad food. It's two blocks from our apartment which is the only reason I bother with the place. There are a few Starbucks and Caribou cafes in the area, but I find something unsettling about such places and cannot stand to be in them. There is Blue Max which I absolutely adore, but they close around 4pm.

A good spot to sit means a good spot to work. Since I'm very temperamental about where I work, such spots are priceless to me. I don't have a strict list of criteria that need to be satisfied aside from the need for outlets. I suppose some spots just feel right. With the right spot, I can read, think, concentrate (no small feat for me), have a good conversation, work, or relax. This spot seems to satisfy all these needs.

Amongst the perks of this spot that spring to mind, a welcoming threadbare chair, good non-direct lighting, convenient tables within arm's reach, a row of books shelfs that put me in the mindset of reading and concentrating, a nearby source of decent coffee, and plentiful artwork when I need something else to look at.

I plan on returning to my Sitting Spot soon.

Out of Control

2007-11-09T16:01:00.000-06:00

That's a phrase Gustav, a friend from my first year in grad school, would say as we did homework. He's from Sweden and was ignorant of American idioms when he first arrived. He was particularly amused by this one and would repeat it often. He's since moved on from the university, but he popularized the expression for me. That's the phrase that comes to mind when I look at the plants we picked up in August.

August

November

Our basil clearly has gotten out of hand (yes I'm changing cliches). We've been harvesting it a bit too. He's a voracious consumer of water, drinking a mason jar worth of water every two or three days (when our heat is on). We plan on harvesting all of him in about a month, just before we head out for Christmas. He's our first real success.

Also acquired in August is our beloved Pearly Tower (Haworthia reinwardtii). He's thriving too, although we don't have quite the same pride since succulents are so hardy.

August

November

Visible is a long stalk, almost two feet long that will some day host a flower. This stalk seems impossibly long and has been shooting out for about two weeks now. I've never seen anything like it. I worry it will finally flower when we go home for the holidays.

Also visible are our three new succulents. The leafy, green one is tropical. All have thrived.

We're rather proud that our second crack at being plant caretakers is going well. Our previous plants have all met ill-fated ends. Most tragic was our "Jesus plant". For a while it seemed invincible, shriveling to nothing from neglect, but miraculously springing back to life with added water. We were gone for an ominous 13 days (wedding and honeymoon) and that was it. We waited a week for it to wake up, but it never did. I felt oddly guilty about it. It sounds like this should be some sort of allegory. Out of superstition, we no longer name plants with names that suggest tragedy. Finding the proper spot and watering at appropriate times seems to have helped too.

Ostensible Workshops (my trip to Rochester)

2007-11-07T12:56:00.000-06:00

I hitched a ride to Rochester for the weekend ostensibly for a workshop that covered the nitty-gritty of the commissioning of a prototype of the MINERvA detector. I convinced Kevin to fly me out even though I really didn't need to go. I was pretty blunt with him about it; I wanted to see my friends in the area. Nice how the direct approach works sometimes.

Since I didn't really need to be there, I assumed I wouldn't need to present. Indeed, that was some poor logic on my part. A fellow grad student alerted me to my presence on the schedule right before everything started. I got lucky, I was scheduled in the afternoon. I managed to piece together a presentation in two hours. It went off without a hitch. It was one of my prouder moments.

A few quotes from the workshop:

"I fear what I don't know." -Kevin

I'm sure he's not the first to say this. This one surprised me since it is really why I went into science. After hearing that, I'm really convinced that this is why I'm here doing what I'm doing.

and

"Just because you have opposable thumbs does not mean you should solder." -Paul Rubinov

I got a kick out of this. I used some electronics board acquired from him that were full of soldering bugs. He didn't say it on my behalf, but I politely repeated it while discussing a test stand I worked on for a year. These soldering bugs cost me a month.

The workshop wrapped up Saturday afternoon. I was treated to a "Halloween party" Saturday night at Justin and Elizabeth's (J&E). There were six of us so I suppose it qualifies as a "party". We had Halloween-themed soft drinks and surprisingly, there were costumes.

This is J&E dressed as Rudy and Julie. Unfortunately, this is lost on anyone who doesn't know both duos. Oh well. Well done nonetheless.

Of course there was poker (Texas Hold'em and one tournament of Omaha). Each night until I left, we played obsessively. I'm rather proud that I broke even for the trip. Justin didn't fair so well and eventually refused to play anymore.

Sunday was trip to see Ithaca and our friend Jon. We checked out a book store and a place called Moosewood. This place has some fame. It puts out a cookbook of the same name that many vegetarians use. I requested to go there so I feel no shame in saying I didn't like it. The food was very plain. I had Jambalaya, which should have no business being boring. I found out Kye has had dishes prepared out of the Moosewood cookbook. She doesn't like it either. My chai tea was mostly just steamed soy milk with none of the spiciness that chai tea normally has. I give the place a thumbs down for anyone who happens to go to Ithaca.

On Monday, we journeyed to the Top of Rochester, just around the corner from Rudy's place. It's a hill that sports cell phone towers and a wonderful view of the city. Rudy claims it once was a cemetery and pointed out what he suspects were once graves.

Later that day, we checked out "Darjeeling Limited", Wes Anderson's latest movie. It's recieved decent reviews, but I loved it. It's worth checking out, definitely better than Life Aquatic.

I wrapped up the trip by hanging out way too late at J&E's place. They were despondent as I prepared to leave.

This photo was completely unplanned. Coincidently, their body language, sans Elizabeth's smile, reminded me of a couple dealing with something else unplanned. That or an advertisement where a couple has had it up to here with these bills.

The theme of the trip seemed to be Javas (a great coffee place), chess, and blowing my nose. I got sick for two days while visiting. Other noteworthy locations we visited are Open Face (a wonderful sandwich place) and Cobb's Hill. Last, I discovered I like (beef) hot dogs. Strange.

Five Year Plan

2007-10-24T11:59:00.000-05:00

As of today, Kyeorda and I have been together for five years. Coincidently (not really), we also have known each other for five years (give or take 13 days). We got off to a fast start. What can I say?

I'm surprised that even after five years, I'm still learning little things about her. For instance, she like to organize candy before she eats it by shape and then color. I discovered this well-guarded secret this past summer. What doesn't surprise me is how quickly the time has gone.

In celebration of these five years tonight, we're going to carve a pumpkin, make some dinner, go get some ice cream, and maybe watch a movie. Nothing too grand I know.

HAPPY FIVE YEARS KYE!

Internet Free Saturday

2007-10-22T15:25:00.000-05:00

I have declared Saturday to be an internet free day. No Rudy, this is not to keep the Sabbath Day holy. For the record, I AM NOT JEWISH!

I find that more and more of my day is being spent online. Mostly, I need internet connection for work. Of course there is news and recreation too. Kye and I often look up directions, recipes, movie times, and other useful information. But in adding up all that time, I find a disturbing sum.

Results have been good. My no internet Saturdays tend to be very productive. I can focus better and tend to be in a better mood. Using the internet allows my mind to jump from one thing to the next without really reflecting on or thinking about much of anything. And this will sound funny, but I find the world to be more beautiful on these days. Is this all in my head? Of course. But is it unique to me? I don't know. But it's hard to argue with results.

Tree Porn

2007-10-18T12:35:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday, I went on a two hour hike through some of Fermilab's woods. I walked some trails that I've shamefully neglected in my two and a half years here. I hadn't gone tree hunting in a while either, nor had I paid proper tribute to autumn. I was hoping to instill myself with a bit of October intoxication I seem to get each year. Sadly, it appears to have passed me by this time. Perhaps it was the excessive heat at the beginning of the month. High 80s in October is a sick thing. Those temperatures drive away the fall smell, clear away delightfully gloomy overcast, and prevent colorful leaf displays.

No matter, October is finally here in both fact and feel. Only a few weeks remain to identify trees. With that in mind, I skipped out of my office.

This shrubby little fellow is Staghorn Sumac. It's a fall favorite of mine since it turns such an intense burgundy. These suckers line the railroad lines making for a colorful slide show during the commute.

Maples are also stunning. Maples often bring bring the cool red colors people seem to like the most. This particular fellow is a Silver Maple. He is a little uncommon for the area. Most Maples in the Midwest are trusty old Sugar Maples. At the time of the walk, most of the Sugar Maples were still stubbornly green.

I found this beauty on my walk too. I was impressed with how effectively the moss covered the log. I guess conditions here are just right for moss. It's always a joy to find treasures like this. There just isn't enough moss in the world.

This is the first time I made an intentional effort to photograph each tree I identified. I tagged a few, including Sugar Maple, Silver Maple, American Linden, White Oak, Burr Oak, Red Oak, Green Ash, Black Walnut, Staghorn Sumac, and Cockspur Thorn. I saw a few kinds of elm too, but had a hard time distinguishing one species from another (they don't have seeds this time of year which is a convenient way to identify them).

Notice that I'm a little sparse on pictures of all the trees I identified. It is no small task to photograph trees. Although I took many shots, most of them came out poorly, often times washed out by the sunny weather. The high canopies of certain types of trees did not help either. I need a camera that has better zoom capabilities if I want to do anything of quality. The best shots I took were of leaves I found on the path like the Red Oak leaf above. Hopefully, I can do more exploring this weekend. Colors have changed dramatically in just two days.

Project X - Starring Matthew Broderick and Fermilab

2007-10-01T11:01:00.000-05:00

So what is Project X and why would Fermilab pick such a name for anything?

Do they realize this is also the name of a movie starring Matthew Broderick which involves exposing chimpanzees to lethal doses of radiation?

Let's answer these questions.

First the boring part, stick with me. At Fermilab, Project X would involve using RF superconducting cavities designed for something called the International Linear Collider (ILC). These RF cavities would accelerate large quantities of protons to feed the current system of accelerators. The project would be an intermediate experiment between the "Tevatron" (what we have now) and the ILC and would mostly be used to feed the neutrino experiments which I work on. I think this is great since it would be a windfall for the neutrino business. That and it would keep Fermilab alive and functioning until the 2020s which is when the ILC would turn on.

But I have no idea why the Fermilab administration wanted to call this thing Project X. The name is absurd. It sounds mysterious and possibly dangerous. The Manhattan Project was also referred to as "Project X" for a while. The government changed the title to something that would arouse less suspicion.

The answer to the second question regarding whether people at Fermilab have heard of this movie is a resounding no. That so many at the lab are oblivious to this movie dumbfounds me. Pretty much everyone I grew up with has seen it.

When I first heard this title, I thought about killing adorable looking chimps with lethal amounts of radiation. Will the public make that connection? Am I the only one who remembers this movie? The movie did involve a running joke between myself and my friend Charlie. Perhaps I'm biased.

However, during a presentation on Project X, I heard snickers from the seat in front of me every time Deputy Director Young-Kee Kim would say "Project X". That reassured me. Apparently, there are a few others out there who find this all amusing.

Violence in the Psychiatrist's Palace

2007-09-21T12:06:00.000-05:00

That's what floated through my mind when I took this picture of our friends Justin and Nicole. Nicole is a psychiatrist and Justin is a mental health worker (the guy who wrestles people in institutions to the ground when they go on a crazy trip or handles the infamous "code brown").

Now what amuses me is the sheer amount of "violence" with these two. Nicole and Justin frequently have spontaneous mock Kung Fu fights. And Nicole is a lover of gore-fest movies. One of our first times hanging out with her was while watching Grindhouse (which, surprisingly, I liked). Or watching a flick like Hard Candy (also a good movie) on Saturday night. She's always trying to get us to watch these disturbing movies. Then there are the epic foam sword fights between her and her three year old daughter Nora. Or Kye and I listening to Nicole's lecture on the Wire Fu elements in the "Samurai Pie" episode of the Backyardigans. What can I say, it all amuses me.

As for the title, I think it sounds a Flaming Lips song.

New Digs on the Crossover

2007-09-17T11:07:00.000-05:00

I have a new home at Fermilab. I have been moved down one floor and have been given a view.

That's what I see while sitting at my desk. The glare obscures the view in the picture and takes away some the grandeur that I feel. It's a nice little spot tucked away on the crossover (WH12XO) between the two towers that make up the Wilson Highrise. This new spot comes with some fine perks. More natural lighting. Closer proximity to other neutrino physics people. Closer to the printer, bathroom, fridge, microwave, office supplies, mailboxes, secretary, elevators, stairs, etc. And it's quieter. I also have my own enclosed space. Before I was sitting in a wide open area with a dozen desks sitting side by side.

Here is what I see when I step out of my office.

Not bad, eh?

White Out

2007-09-14T16:02:00.000-05:00

On my way to the train station one day, I passed by this curiosity.

For those unfamiliar with this sight, this is a Lawn Jockey. They typically hold a lantern and are painted in blackface reminiscent of old American Minstrel shows. Now, I have a personal connection to these. My Dad once had one (with blackface) in his front yard. I felt uneasy about it even as a kid and I still feel guilty that we have this in my family history. So driving by this, I did a double take. Has this Lawn Jockey been whitewashed? This got me thinking.

First, once again, has this been painted white? Or has the paint been bleached and striped by sun and weather? If it was painted, why? Did the person not like black lawn jockeys or is this some sort of political statement? Is it to cover up the racist aspect of it? Looking at the poorly written and organized Wikipedia article about Lawn Jockeys, I read claims that many that are still on display are painted white; however, this is the first white one I've encountered.

Much history involving these statues must be considered too. The previously mentioned Wikipedia article describes a legend about a young African American individual freezing to death while holding a lantern on the Delaware river during the American Revolution. While I doubt that story, African Americans do have a storied history as jockeys. That includes black jockeys winning many of the Kentucky Derbies in the early years of that race. Last, lawn jockeys were supposedly used as guides for escaping slaves in the Underground Railroad. The claim is green or red ribbons were tied around jockeys to let escapees know whether a particular house was a safe place or not.

Now, this lawn jockey was sitting in front of a building that houses a local historical society. I didn't notice this fact until I began the walk back to my car. I also had not read up on the history at that point. But having read further, I'd like to think this statue has been bleached by the sun and was once part of the Undergound Railroad. Parts of the Chicago area were part of this path to freedom after all. I'll need to research this further. However, I think most white people are oblivious to the history of these pieces so I would prefer that they did not have them on display.

I'll post a follow up when I find out the history of this particular piece.

Of Fish Ladders and Black Locusts (the Detour)

2007-09-13T20:33:00.000-05:00

Welcome back to the program. Yes, I've watched to much TV in my lifetime. So why haven't I posted much lately? Having a lethargic two weeks is part of it, but part of it is having so much I feel like I should be writing about, that I write nothing. I don't know why I get in such absurd feedback loops, but I do it often.

I've found some real treasures recently doing the whole commute thing. The first is this amazing park. I had to drive home on a week night a few weeks back but didn't feel like battling rush hour. I decided to check out a forest preserve instead. The first one I couldn't get to due to traffic when I had a stroke of serendipity. I passed by this park off from Batavia Rd. in Warrenville (the name of the park escapes me). I pulled in and after 50 ft. of walking, I found this sight.

A fish ladder! It was such a stunning find in the bland suburbs. I went on to find some rapids and and an ornate, arching cement bridge spanning over 100 ft across the river that the fish ladder services. There were other treasures. I found a ton of Black Locusts (Robinia pseudoacacia pictured below) which I've never seen growing wild before. They prefer wet areas and most of my tree hunting has been in dry, inland areas.

Another gem from the walk was seeing low land areas and undergrowth covered in a thick layer of silt. A week before this walk, we were pummeled by some tremendous storms that sent local rivers swelling. If I had come to the park a few days before, I think would have found my way impassible.

Journeying onward, I encountered a bike path that took me by more black locusts, but towering ones that make one feel vertiginous trying to see the tops. I also found some ancient poplars. These had stunning sizes pushing five feet in diameter. Absolutely amazing for the Midwest. My money is that they've been there a century. The bark was so deeply furrowed. I stood admiring them for a good ten minutes until the mosquitoes drove me onward.

Going on, I found some spectacular oaks that I could not place. I even thumbed through two Eastern Forest tree guides, but found no clues. I think they're unusual ornamentals.

If anyone knows what they are, please speak up. So, that's enough trees I suppose, but this place was such a cool find. It's is the easiest park to get to from Fermilab, but somehow I've never visited it.

Rainy Day(s)

2007-08-24T17:58:00.000-05:00

The last week has been all rain and clouds. Wet, humid, yet still hot, it has stormed nearly everyday for a week. Yesterday was the worst, though. Two terrible waves of storm hit. The first spawned funnel clouds that sent all of Fermilab for cover. I spent an hour in a crowded dressing room behind Fermilab's auditorium which doubles as a tornado shelter. I even brought my laptop and worked studiously during the hour or so of confinement. Calm returned and we all went back to work.

And then came the second wave. I decided to race the storm, then thought better of it. I didn't dare grab a picture, but as the clouds headed towards us, they appeared to stretch from the ground to higher than I've ever seen clouds stretch. According to the morning paper, they reached up around 40,000+ feet in the air. I bunkered down in a Fermilab dorm I used to live in. I was ready to head towards the tornado shelters for the second time that day, but it never came to that. But I watched on radar and out the window as the weather went from relative calm and sprinkles to whipping winds and pouring rain in under a minute. This is the sort of rain that drenches you in seconds.

I caught the rain in the act. It seems so weird in the picture. It hardly seems like it is raining. The storm came and then went after 45 minutes and I decided to make a run for the train again. I had to explore a new route to the train station due to flooding and traffic jams. But I got there just in time....according to the schedule. I then sat for an hour and a half. Long enough to see everything clear up and watch the sunset.

The wait was made easier by banter with some fellow commuters. I rarely talk to other people who ride the trains so this was a nice change. One of the guys turned out to be another Fermilab fellow who also lives in Oak Park. Eventually he decided to forget the train and offered me a ride home. Hitching a ride with him, I got home at 8:45pm leaving three and a half hours earlier from the lab.

And the power was out. Kye and I hung out in candle light and we recounted our adventures getting home. The CTA 'L' lines had come to a standstill earlier in the day. Kye had dodged that, but not the rain getting soaked en route to home. A pretty cool day despite the inconvenience.

At least that's what I'm saying now that the power turned back on. I was prepared for going a long time without power. I had grabbed ice to keep all our food cool. I was drinking the beer since it wouldn't fit in the cooler and well, damn it, we payed for that beer. Alas, all for nothing. But at least our food won't spoil.

Metaphorical Vacationing

2007-08-22T20:01:00.002-05:00

This past Monday was Kye and I's one year anniversary! In celebration, we took a metaphorical trip to Chicago. Why may you ask? Cause we're broke. That's why. And we resolved to do things in the Chicago area that we don't normally do. Additionally, to make it feel like a vacation we committed to two guiding principles. First, we were not going to do anything useful. Second, we were not talking to anyone else.

It worked for the most part. A friend of Kye managed to sneak in a phone conversation under the guise of a "happy anniversary wish". Luckily, I saw through this ruse and squelched the intrusion. That, and we ran into Nicole, a friend of ours who lives in Forest Park while in a local book store.

I was woefully in charge of the planning for the entire weekend. Of course I planned the days out to the nearest half an hour. I think my planning privileges may get revoked. Not that they stood up that well anyway. Starting Saturday morning, rain and Kye's own druthers sank my best planned day. It turned out pretty cool anyway. We checked out an Art fair where we spent that money we didn't have. I got a cool painting (at least I like it) and Kye picked up some jewelry (I think she must of ran out or something).

It was a bit of a lazy day where we didn't actually do things that we don't normally do. We watched a couple of movies, grabbed some Indian food, and just hung out. Note, we didn't actually do a single thing according to my plan.

The next day, we enjoyed a lazy Sunday morning followed by a trip to the DuSable Museum of African American History. The museum is cool. It focuses predominantly on art although we discovered too late that they host plays and movies too. I forgot my camera which I regret. Otherwise, a picture of a bronze statue depicting the four children who survived the uprising on the slave ship, the Amistad, would be right here. It was hands down my favorite piece there.

Afterwards, we journeyed way down to Soul Vegetarian East, a place that serves vegetarian soul food. It was on par with Skippy's in Rochester, NY for those who were familiar with that place. It was good, but not good enough for us to truck down to 75th from Oak Park. After getting back to Oak Park, we rented a movie and spent the rest of the evening joking around. This was the one and only day that was by "The Plan". The other days didn't even come close.

The last day of our metaphorical vacation started with breakfast at Blue Max cafe. This place rocks. It's my favorite in the area, although the Marion St. Cheese Market and the Book Table are a close second and third.

The picture is of Red Max which is Blue Max's coffee bean roaster. I picked up my first pack of coffee beans from there recently, but need to finish some old beans before I try them.

After Breakfast, we went up to Rogers Park, Kye's old neighborhood and also the location of where I proposed to her. We were supposed to go up here on Saturday, but that fell through. The rain was against us this weekend. Once we got up there, Plan A fell through. That was checking out Armadillo Pillow, a very cool used book store. So we went onward to Jarvis beach which is where I proposed to Kye.

I hoped we could climb up on the rocks to feel some of the magic that was there two years ago. But the skies were grey and the life guard told us to get off the rocks as soon as we sat down. Instead we sat on some pebbles while Kye explored for small, pretty stones. Next in line was Cafe Ennui which didn't happen. Instead, we drove by Kye's old place, which now feels foreign, and we went onward to Heartland cafe. It's a cool place. Very cool atmosphere, but the food. Sigh. It's vegetarian, but the worst I've ever had from a self-declared "vegetarian restaurant".

We sat at the bar and played cribbage with a cool deck of cards I picked up of turn of the 20th century skyscrapers. Then back to Oak Park. The rest of the day was lazy with some bad Italian food and spending more of that cash we don't have at the Book Table. And that was that, a busy but cool weekend.

Reviews of some of these restaurants should be popping up on Kye's blog soon.

Happy Anniversary Kye!

This "electoral reform" proposal in California

2007-08-17T09:58:00.000-05:00

I never meant this blog for politics, but a proposal to change how electoral votes are alloted has infuriated me. Here is an article on the proposal: http://www.cnn.com/2007/POLITICS/08/09/california.split/

Under the proposed rules, whoever wins the popular vote in a congressional district gets the electoral vote corresponding to that congressional district. Whoever gets the popular vote in a state gets the two electoral votes corresponding to the two senators of that state.

This is proposed for just California which is obviously unfair. However, people, which includes Democrats, Republicans, and Independents, think this plan should be applied to all 50 states. The plan sounds fair on the surface, but is clearly biased when one looks at the details. Below I look at how this proposal would have affected the last four presidential elections. Although it would have not changed the outcome of the election, it gives the Republican candidate a huge advantage. Such a proposal implemented would likely require a Democrat to win the popular vote by a margin of +5% (say 53% v. 48 % victory) to even have a chance of capturing the presidency. The proposal would eventually get an unpopular Republican elected.

So how would this proposal in California affect past elections if applied in all states? Let's examine the details.

1992 Election
Clinton
256 Congressional Districts won
32*2 States captured
3 DC
323 Total

Bush
179 Congressional Districts won
18*2 States captured
215 Total

Under new rules: 323 v. 215 (Clinton winner)
Actual result: 370 v. 168 (Clinton winner)

1996 Election
Clinton
280 Congressional Districts won
31*2 States captured
3 DC
345 Total

Dole
155 Congressional Districts won
19*2 States captured
193 Total

Under new rules: 345 v. 193 (Clinton winner)
Actual result: 379 v. 159 (Clinton winner)

2000 Election
Gore
207 Congressional Districts won
20*2 States captured
3 (DC) DC
250 Total

Bush
228 Congressional Districts won
30*2 States captured
288 Total

Under new rules: 288 v. 250 (Bush winner)
Actual result: 271 v. 266 (Bush winner)

2004 Election
Kerry
180 Congressional Districts won
19*2 States captured
3 DC
221 Total

Bush
255 Congressional Districts won
31*2 States captured
317 Total

Under new rules: 317 v. 221 (Bush winner)
Actual result: 286 v. 251 (Bush winner)

The new rules give the Republican an advantage of somewhere between 17-47 electoral votes. It gives the Republican candidate a HUGE advantage in a system that already favors the Republican. This proposal is highly unfair and by nature partisan.

Source
http://www.polidata.org/prcd/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page (sections on the 1992, 1996,
2000, and 2004 U.S. presidential elections)

Botanic Weekend

2007-08-14T21:39:00.000-05:00

The theme of this past weekend was indisputably plants. For starters, I have a new self-declared hobby of collecting various cacti and succulents. I have a soft spot for plants of the xerophylic persuasion. I'm starting off easy. Just one succulent.

In case the label is illegible, it's a Pearly Tower (Haworthia reinwardtii) native to South Africa. So, the lone few who read this may be thinking "LAME!". Well suck it. I studied botany for two and half years, but have never really owned plants. I always wanted to, but didn't because I was a) lazy and b) rather transient in terms of living arrangements. So I'm actually rather excited about this new found life of living with plants.

The other part of Kye and I's weekend involved some re-potting. One is a grassy fellow I can't identify and has miraculously survived for over two years in rather small confines. The other is a basil plant, now known as "The Basil".

This fellow is of the fairly common cooking variety, Ocimum basilcum, although other species are used in various Asian cultures. Hopefully, he'll be the first in a collection of homegrown herbs.

Last, I had fun with trees. I wandered around Oak Park identifying trees with my trusty National Geographic North American tree guide.

I realized I don't know Linden trees as well as I thought I did. Identifying trees can be a rather difficult task since sometimes members within a particular species can have drastically different morphologies. Think dogs and how different they can look. But I still had fun and I found a couple Kentucky Coffee trees which I'm rather fond of and what I believe to be a Norway Maple which I have never seen before. I need a better guide, one that focuses on Eastern North American deciduous forests. I also got some funny looks which is standard. I don't know what it is, but standing around staring at trees just makes people nervous I guess. I've been asked if I'm a doctor before too. I didn't know how to answer. I tumbled over my words while thinking how to explain that I study physics, but I really like plants. In the end, I just said yes.

So for any of you out there who wonder what the hell I do with my free time, here you go.

STAMPS!

2007-07-30T16:18:00.000-05:00

I bought a new batch of stamps today! I picked up the much anticipated Star Wars stamps too. I had been holding off, forcing myself to use all my old stamps. I bought way more than I needed back in February.

For those unaware, I love stamps. I don't collect them. Nope. I don't find that enticing, I just like buying cool stamps. I can't express how much American flag stamps bug me. And a stamps of Gerald Ford like I saw today........no thanks. Some previous batches included the wonderful Ella Fitzgerald, DC comic book heroes, gourds and cornucopia, snow flakes, and kid book stamps (e.g., "Where the Wild Things Are" or Dr. Seuss). Finally, all of them are gone so I treated myself to the previously mentioned Star Wars stamps and Marvel comic book hero stamps.

Now, I tend to personalize stamps too. I foresee the stamp of the emperor gracing my next AT&T bill for instance. The Wolverine stamp will be saved for someone I deem worthy of it. I also included an Aquaman stamp on a postcard of Neptune I sent someone. I thought Aquaman would like hanging out with the god of the sea. I doubt the phone company or even my parents realize I'm putting so much thought into the stamps on items I send them. Just beware when I send you something with a stamp of The Thing on it.

Nine Day Odyssey

2007-07-23T12:51:00.000-05:00

Kye and I just wrapped up a long, nine day odyssey back to Michigan, splitting half our time between the Lansing and Detroit areas.

We kicked the trip off with a visit to the "Parsonage". That's a house adjacent to a Mennonite church which for whatever reason is presently unoccupied by a pastor. My Dad and Step-Mom are staying there until construction is complete on their new house. Note, they are not Mennonites, but rather vehement Roman Catholics.

My Dad and Step-Mom are big on names for places. They don't call the Parsonage "home" because their home is being built down the street. They don't call my Grandpa's old farmland "Grandpa's farm", but rather the "North Farm" and the "North Woods" now that they own it. Those are the two names that jump to mind, but they have others. I think it's cool, they aren't living in the past. That, and names are very powerful. I don't think most people realize to what degree that's true.

From the Parsonage, we went to my cousins shotgun wedding and to the Smolka-Chvojka family reunion. The Smolkas are descendants of my Great-Grandpa's best friend. My great Grandpa, Frank Chvojka and his best friend John Smolka, moved to Michigan from what is now Slovakia back in 1914. The two families are fairly close to this day.

Kyeorda was exposed to both my Mom's side and my Dad's side of the family. Everything went pretty well. We had a few awkward moments, but I feel like my family has pretty much accepted her.

Next on the agenda, Kye and I visited some friends, checked out some of our old haunts, and saw a few places new to Kyeorda. We took an obligatory trip to the Wheel Inn which is a grease and spoon diner that my friends and I used to frequent (read spend six hours a day drinking coffee, everyday). From there we ventured to downtown St. Johns, a racist "antique" shop (Grrrrrrrr), and the Alibi Bar, which is a redneck, NASCAR-themed joint. It was Karaoke night and Kyeorda blew everybody away. The highlight of the night was likely Kye slurring "Oooh, I think I'm intoxicated" unintentionally into the mike just before a song. That gathered some of the most applause out of the entire evening.

In East Lansing, we checked out some of our favorite spots, Curious Book Shop, Inflight, Scavenger Hunt, and Flat, Black, and Circular (FBC). These are places I recommend for anyone ever traveling to East Lansing. But out of the four, Curious Book Shop and FBC are MUST STOPS. Curious Book Shop is a phenomenal place. They're cheap and specialize in old, out of print books. FBC is simply the best used CD/vinyl shop I've ever been to. I have failed to find a better place in either Rochester, NY or Chicago, IL. To round it out, Inflight is a rather eclectic shop that used to specialize in disc golf and bootleg CDs, but sadly has become just another head shop over the last few years. Scavenger Hunt is a hip second hand store. I found a cool trench coat there my freshman year. Kyeorda still can't get me to part with it.

We also stopped at Aladdin's, which sports some very tasty Middle Eastern food. They do desserts best. Last, we went to good ol' Dicker and Deal. This is THE pawn shop in Lansing. They keep on opening new locations. I have suspicions that the whole Lansing economy flows through this business.

Next it was onward to Metro-Detroit. Mostly this was us visiting my in-laws. We hung out with them, their elderly dog, Missy, and their spastic puppy Spice. We also swung by the Danpollos and hung out with the three youngest for a day.

We're pretty close to these guys. Five members of the family were in our wedding and Mrs. Danpollo made our wedding cake (including a vegan cake for me!). But they've had a rough summer. Their house burned down a few weeks ago. We took the kids out and bought them toys and games since they have been bored out of their minds. Pictured is Adama, Asabe, and Ahamed.

The last highlight of the trip was a journey to Detroit's Cass Quarter. That's the informal name for the section of Detroit near Wayne State University. Our friends Rachael and Kibibi live there and we crashed with them for the night. Rachael has come down with a severe case of pregnancy (don't worry, it was planned). Congrats Rachael! Now, pages could be written about Detroit, what's cool about it and what isn't, but I'll hold off on that. I will say that the Eastern Market rocks. It's filled with home grown produce, baked goods, and locally made products like pure maple syrup. Up until about 10 years ago, you could buy a live chicken and have the vendors butcher it on the spot. It's a pretty cool place.

The last night, Kye went to a girls only party with her old high school comrades while I spent a fun filled evening with the dogs.

Restaurant reviews by Kyeorda

2007-07-06T12:38:00.000-05:00

As a birthday present for Kye (We have the same birthday which is today, July 6th! Happy birthday to us!), I made a blog for her to review restaurants. She is pretty much in constant review mode anyway, figuring out what's in each dish and what she'd do differently.

Now there are a ton of reviews of restaurants out there, right? Well, Kye is one of the best cooks I've ever met. She can be picky at times, but when she likes something, you know it's going to be good. Her blog is in its infancy, but you can trust her to pick out some real gems. So if you're in the Chicago area and looking for a good place or which places you may want to avoid, check out her new blog, http://kyeorda.blogspot.com/
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Happy Birthday Kye! While I'm at it, happy birthday to Amanda Craven and my uncle Howard too.

Starring Dinosaurs and the I Ching Quartet

2007-06-25T17:51:00.001-05:00

This past weekend kicked off with Kye and I going to a party to watch our friend Sharon perform with her band the I Ching Quartet. Usually people's first reaction to the I Ching Quartet is, "But aren't there FIVE of you?!" But their second reaction should be, "Now that's some fine folk music". Because it is.

The show was a blast and Sharon gave a noble attempt at playing the trumpet. She was irked it didn't come off that well, but she had picked up the instrument for the first time just eight days before the show.

The night was capped by meditations on how many amino acids DNA could code for if it had one base pair (say A-T) instead of two base pairs (A-T and G-C). The answer? Hypothetically, eight, but in reality six. Compare that to the twenty-some that your body can knock out with A-T and G-C. The consequences of just the one base pair would be life being dramatically less complexity. DNA would store much less information too.

Saturday was museum day. We checked out our favorite museum in Chicago, the Field Museum of Natural History. I fussed about seeing the dinosaur exhibits and Kye acquiesced since she picked the exhibits the last two visits. We also peaked at an exhibit about early American civilizations, but got the closing time boot less than half way through.

The dinosaur exhibit, in addition to the traditional dinosaur bones, focused on three points. The first was the bio-mechanics of dinosaur movement. For instance, it is very likely that the T-Rex moved straight legged and slow (10-15 mph) instead of crouched and fast (30-45 mph) as the animal is commonly portrayed. For the latter to be possible, the animal's legs would need to make up about 50+% of it's body mass which is far-fetched. Second, the exhibit focused on the fact that birds are an extant type of dinosaurs. Strong evidence points to them being directly descended from theropods. Third, the exhibit displayed a prehistoric ecosystem. This impressed me. The museum recreated mock plants that would have been found at a particular time based on the fossil record. Plants always get short changed especially when compared to the terrifying monstrosities from the past or fury mammals of the present (or the feathery birds of today).

Sunday was nine hours of Spring Cleaning. Some may say, but solstice passed and Sunday was definitely summer. And they would be right.

M - I - S - S - I - S - S - I - P - P - I

2007-06-19T14:53:00.000-05:00

Or as family that we were visiting tend to say, Mi'ssippi.

It was just a weekend trip for Kyeorda and I. We flew into Jackson, MS and drove the two hours to Greenville, MS. For those unaware, there are no major highways that go anywhere near Greenville. Which suits us just fine. State highways make for a pleasant trip. We saw some cool sights along the way.

Greenville was fun. It isn't really what one would consider a tourist destination. They try; there are several casinos there. But Kye and I are good at entertaining ourselves (without silly casinos to boot). We toured the town and looked for the plantation that Kye's family descends from. Her family comes from a plantation near Lake Port, AR, which is just across the Mississippi River from Greenville. We didn't find it, but got a taste of rural Arkansas.

Greenville is interesting in many regards. The city is extremely segregated still. Most black people in the city live in small, crumbling shacks that date back 100+ years. These neighborhoods of shacks surround the more prosperous and predominantly white part of town. The city itself is in a long, slow state of decay. I find it beautiful and sad at the same time. The old courthouse of Greenville is fairly representative of the state of the city.

Aside from our touring, we hung out with Kyeorda's family and played some brutal games of Bid Whist. My mother in law is one of the most cutthroat card players I have ever met. She had no mercy on Kye and I. And below is the worst Bid Whist hand I've ever had. High cards were trump (bad for me).

And here's Kyeorda oddly cheerful, even though we were losing horribly (we had just lost a hand). Kyeorda's mom was carefully recording our abysmal score.

That's about it. I like traveling around Mississippi. Cheap gas aside ($2.70 compared to $3.30 in Chicago), I think what catches me is how not-Midwestern it is. Growing up, I just assumed every place in the U.S. looked just like the Midwest. Not true, not true.

Introducing Weird Vitamin Guy

2007-06-14T12:47:00.000-05:00

You may be wondering who this Weird Vitamin Guy is and where he comes from? Patience! All will be revealed.

It started with my sister Karen constantly asking me if I know this guy she met who also works at Fermilab. My sister is an avid marathoner and trains with a group who shares that obsession. She met him through that group. She had been wanting me to meet this other fellow who works here for a while. But I finally got the chance when I met her whole running group about two months back.

So here's how the occasion came about. My mother came down to the Chicago area to visit my sister and myself. I picked her up from the train station and we hung out on a Friday. We loafed around in Grant Park and got the chance to see The Bean. The next morning we drove up to Skokie so my Mom could spend the rest of the weekend with my big sis.

The idea was, she would go for her run with her group while my Mom, Kye, and myself would go for a walk. Next, we would meet up with her and her running group for some breakfast. Now I'm a sucker for walks and we made it a plan. We took our little walk and headed to breakfast with Karen. Slowly, the whole group filed in. Karen introduced us three interlopers. That's when I finally met this other Fermilab guy.

We were at opposite ends of a chain of tables, but we managed a conversation. I asked him what he did, how long he's been working there. Then I started asking him where his office was. I found out it was just one floor below mine! I thought, that's cool! We're both in this high rise building called "Wilson".

My friend Rudy thinks it looks like the Atari symbol.

Pretty close resemblance, eh? But back to the story. This building is really two towers with some cross-over floors and a 15 story atrium occupying the center. Almost every office has a window and a view. Some face outward. And some face inward. Unfortunately, I don't get a sweeping view of prairie and forest. I'm stuck with a view of some disheveled offices. And so apparently is this guy. His girlfriend chimed in saying she bets there are some interesting sites, what with a bunch of quirky physicists. I agree and she asks, so what's the worst? I think for a second. Two thoughts come into my mind. One is of this office with beads and "mood lighting", but that's not the one I mentioned first. The other is of this office with bottle after bottle of vitamins littering the desk.

The picture sports a view from my desk. It is quite recent and the desk is cluttered with fewer bottles of vitamins than the time of this incident. Anyhow, the desk had been a topic of conversation earlier in that week. So I mention that office, it being fresh on my mind. I say something like, "Oh man! There's this weird guy with all these vitamins on his desk." This other guy looks at me, with a slightly hurt look on his face, and says "That's me." Uhhhhhhhhhhhh...........oops. His girlfriend starts laughing. I'm starting to feel bad so I mention the other women with the "mood lighting". But the damage is done. He is the "weird guy with all these vitamins on his desk" which gets shortened to Weird Vitamin Guy. If you look at the picture, you'll also notice an exercise ball this guys sits on for medical reason. But before I get taken for a total jerk, let me say he's a nice guy and apparently works very hard.

My sister thought it was hilarious and called me to talk about it later the next week. I've since ran into this guy and we exchanged an awkward "hello". I'm set to be moved to his floor soon. I'll be right around the corner from him. I think he may have noticed that I was taking pictures of his office. The day after the picture, several more vitamin bottles disappeared. The picture may have hurt relations further.

Sigh. Well, I don't try to be a jerk. It sort of come to me naturally.

The Science of Procrastination

2007-06-07T09:55:00.002-05:00

If there is one thing I'm good at, it's procrastinating to the absolute last second, but still coming out OK. Case in point, yesterday. I'm trying to attend more seminars and I set myself to attending one in particular,
Relics of Creation by Dr George Smoot. All I needed to do was apply for a free ticket.

I thought, I'll do it Tuesday (the lecture being on Wednesday). Mid-afternoon comes and apparently all free tickets are gone. So I say to myself, I'll just buy one tomorrow. Wednesday roles around, an email goes out, all tickets SOLD OUT! I think, crud, I waited too long. So at 4:50pm, just 10 minutes before the support staff leaves for the day, I poke my head in the proper office while passing by. I ask for a free ticket just to be annoying, knowing that (A) the time for free tickets has passed, and (B) they're sold out anyway. The secretary starts feeling bad, but tells me there is nothing she can do.

I think, oh well. So as I'm wondering around the poster session that started shortly after my office visit, she seeks me out. She quietly passes me a ticket for $0.00 dollars. She tells me in a whisper, don't tell anyone. No paper work and the ticket was hand delivered. Which means I got someone else's ticket. I bet they would have enjoyed the talk. I RULE!

My conclusions, either I'm lucky, I have this procrastination thing down, or somehow all secretaries everywhere love me.

The lecture was cool. Dr. George Smoot isn't as funny as he thinks he is (he has a Noble Prize, every Nobel Laurette thinks that the award bestows upon them a sense of humor). But he did talk about the history of looking at the cosmic microwave background (CMB). It makes me respect those pretty maps of the CMB seeing what we once had.

Hot dogs and pickles, it's what's for dinner

2007-06-05T08:36:00.000-05:00

Jaewon, a fellow member of the MINERvA experiment, eating his "lunch" during a collaboration meeting break. His lunch:
-a jar of pickles
-microwaved hot dogs
-a couple of pieces of bread
-a jug of orange juice.

I'm not sure if this is the fault of physics, being a graduate student, American culture, or some combination of the three. Whatever the case, he's traded in his diet of Korean cuisine for this. Sad, isn't it?

The dietary habits of graduate students is the subject of a few running jokes. One is the quest for any sort of free food. The other is the sub-human diet quality. Think 20 cent ramen noodles.

Edit: For further elaboration of graduate school mythology, see Ph.D comics.

Fear of Trains

2007-05-25T06:19:00.000-05:00

Below are most of the monthly train passes that I've bought over the last two years. I've skipped a few months. I also threw away my first two monthly passes which I regret. The going price right now is $105.30 per pass.

The 'B' and 'F' on the ticket are zones that I'm traveling between. My train ride is about 35 miles each way. Total, my commute is 1 hr 20 min each way.

I'll include another picture once I finish graduate school. By that time, I should have 40 passes.

The mighty peregrine falcon

2007-05-23T18:57:00.000-05:00

So here's a fellow I've been seeing for a while. I work on the 13th floor of the Wilson high rise and have seen her (I think her, but correct me if I'm wrong) circling. But it's only in the last month that I've seen her perched on our ledge. I snapped this particular shot about a week ago. After spotting her this afternoon, I decided to feature her here.

For those not aware, this is a peregrine falcon. Claimed to be the fastest bird in the world reaching speeds up to 200 mph during dives. There's a good article about the pair that hangs around the lab in our lab's daily publication,

Fermilab Today

No More Lost Anecdotes

2007-05-21T11:37:00.000-05:00

I've been wanting to post all kinds of random, but cool anecdotes that happen to me for a while now. Amongst the obstacles:
-Laziness on my part
-Repugnance of blogging on myspace
Well, I feel like I should have more reasons, but really, that's it. So look here for the little oddities that come up in my life. More to follow.