This has been around a while, but worth-reposting.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
The Good Land
I recently too a trip to the Milwaukee area. Number Two lives about an hour outside of Milwaukee, is married and has two kids. The original plan was for me to fly out there and chaperone the kids on a train ride to St. Louis, where we would spend some time with my parents (their grandparents). The rains and flooding in the midwest led my brother and his wife to reconsider, so in the end I spent the entire week keeping the kids occupied.
It wasn't bad. I can't complain; I had wanted to spend some time with them. The trip came up on short notice, and there's never really a good time for me to take off from work. I got to drive, and I got to experience a life I considered but never followed - me, the city girl, heading out to the country to don a frock, do the dishes and take care of children.
We took two trips in to Milwaukee. The first trip, we expected to go to Discover World, which is a sort of hands-on science exhibit and aquarium, but they were closed. We went to the Betty Brinn children's museum and the Milwaukee Public Museum instead. We came back two days later for Discovery World.
The trick is, my niece gets carsick. We make her eat as full a breakfast as possible, and extra bags are usually packed in case we need to contain the spillage. She gets upset about it. Of course it's painful for her, but she's also worried about making other people mad. When we had our incidences, I gave her lots of encouragement ("yeah honey! That's great! Get it all out! Get it in the bag!"). We pulled over, had water, and caught our breath. She always fell asleep on the trips back home.
My nephew was good. He's kind of a dork, like any older brother can be, but he was an able second hand for me. He needed his alone time though. I gave him plenty of opportunity to range on ahead of us, away from his aunt and little sister.
We also went swimming. There is a schwimbad near my brother's house; we call it that because it's more than a pool, and resembles nothing so much as the schwimbads we went to in Germany - miniature spas, really, with additional activities, a fod canteen, and pleasant grounds to walk upon. After seeing the beer culture, the German and Polish influences, and finally the schwimbad, I pointed out to my brother that he has recreated our childhood home - he lives in West Germany, only it's in America.
At the museums, we saw: live butterflies, giant catfish, hermit crabs, a 3-D fly-through of the solar system, a giant ship mounted over the exhibit hall, and a diorama of buffalo being driven over a cliff. This last piece made my niece very sad, because buffalo calves were shown in mid-air, plummeting to their deaths.
Milwaukee as a city is interesting. The downtown is like so many others, slowly being revitalized and reclaimed. The highway system is epic, interlocking ribbons of asphalt leading to anywhere but there. The city itself is very flat, and post-industrial; a place that
is still transitioning from one economy to another, but having trouble since, as my brother put it, Chicago is barely an hour away and gets first dibs on most enterprises looking for a mdiwestern metropolis.
Where my brother lives, though, is both expansive and bucolic. There is still a Main Street, where parking is easy to find and quaint little shops line the road; there is an old-fashioned ice cream and burger joint, right across from the library. Rivers flow through town, swollen from the recent rains and carrying ducks ripe for feeding bread to on a warm summer day. It's a beautiful town, and I'm glad I went.
Our final destination was Mount Olympus, a Greek-themed water park and amusement park. We splashed in the wave pool; my niece went under and needed some time out to recover before going back in. We went down the slides, and we went on three different go-kart tracks and four different roller coasters. I was genuinely afraid of the final one, called 'Hades', which apparently has a 140' drop and runs underneath the parking in total darkness.
Here's a clip - though I admit, watching a roller coaster isn't the same as being there.
After the park, we went to a theme restaurant; the theme was polynesian. The portions were HUGE, especially the drinks and the deserts. I ordered what I thought was a sensible dinner - coconut shrimp with vegetables and rice. It turns out this meant, "shrimp wrapped in coconut and deep fried, then skewered and mounted a pineapple top", giving the effect of enormous airplanes circling an island and swerving in front of my face. Furthermore, the shrimp were easily separated from their deep-fry jackets, leaving little Body Snatcher-style husks behind.
On the way home, my brother and the kids slept and I talked with my sister-in-law. We've known each other since our college days; she's about four years younger than me but we ran in overlapping circles. We watched the harvest moon mark the summer solstice and cruised down the highway until we came home. The children were unpacked and put to bed; it was after midnight, and I had an early flight top prepare for.
I could end there, but there was one more thing. As I finished packing, my niece came down to kiss me goodbye. Four years old, she burst into tears. "I don't want you to go-oh-oh-oh-oh," she cried. "I want you to stay-ay-ay-ay-ay." Tears running down her cheeks, I told her I would visit again, and that I had people back home who wanted to see me. She wouldn't stop. I pointed out that if I stayed, it wouldn't mean ice cream and swimming every day; I'd put her to work. She cried some more but finally calmed down.
Her brother was easier. He just wanted to fall asleep.
It wasn't bad. I can't complain; I had wanted to spend some time with them. The trip came up on short notice, and there's never really a good time for me to take off from work. I got to drive, and I got to experience a life I considered but never followed - me, the city girl, heading out to the country to don a frock, do the dishes and take care of children.
We took two trips in to Milwaukee. The first trip, we expected to go to Discover World, which is a sort of hands-on science exhibit and aquarium, but they were closed. We went to the Betty Brinn children's museum and the Milwaukee Public Museum instead. We came back two days later for Discovery World.
The trick is, my niece gets carsick. We make her eat as full a breakfast as possible, and extra bags are usually packed in case we need to contain the spillage. She gets upset about it. Of course it's painful for her, but she's also worried about making other people mad. When we had our incidences, I gave her lots of encouragement ("yeah honey! That's great! Get it all out! Get it in the bag!"). We pulled over, had water, and caught our breath. She always fell asleep on the trips back home.
My nephew was good. He's kind of a dork, like any older brother can be, but he was an able second hand for me. He needed his alone time though. I gave him plenty of opportunity to range on ahead of us, away from his aunt and little sister.
We also went swimming. There is a schwimbad near my brother's house; we call it that because it's more than a pool, and resembles nothing so much as the schwimbads we went to in Germany - miniature spas, really, with additional activities, a fod canteen, and pleasant grounds to walk upon. After seeing the beer culture, the German and Polish influences, and finally the schwimbad, I pointed out to my brother that he has recreated our childhood home - he lives in West Germany, only it's in America.
At the museums, we saw: live butterflies, giant catfish, hermit crabs, a 3-D fly-through of the solar system, a giant ship mounted over the exhibit hall, and a diorama of buffalo being driven over a cliff. This last piece made my niece very sad, because buffalo calves were shown in mid-air, plummeting to their deaths.
Milwaukee as a city is interesting. The downtown is like so many others, slowly being revitalized and reclaimed. The highway system is epic, interlocking ribbons of asphalt leading to anywhere but there. The city itself is very flat, and post-industrial; a place that
is still transitioning from one economy to another, but having trouble since, as my brother put it, Chicago is barely an hour away and gets first dibs on most enterprises looking for a mdiwestern metropolis.Where my brother lives, though, is both expansive and bucolic. There is still a Main Street, where parking is easy to find and quaint little shops line the road; there is an old-fashioned ice cream and burger joint, right across from the library. Rivers flow through town, swollen from the recent rains and carrying ducks ripe for feeding bread to on a warm summer day. It's a beautiful town, and I'm glad I went.
Our final destination was Mount Olympus, a Greek-themed water park and amusement park. We splashed in the wave pool; my niece went under and needed some time out to recover before going back in. We went down the slides, and we went on three different go-kart tracks and four different roller coasters. I was genuinely afraid of the final one, called 'Hades', which apparently has a 140' drop and runs underneath the parking in total darkness.
Here's a clip - though I admit, watching a roller coaster isn't the same as being there.
After the park, we went to a theme restaurant; the theme was polynesian. The portions were HUGE, especially the drinks and the deserts. I ordered what I thought was a sensible dinner - coconut shrimp with vegetables and rice. It turns out this meant, "shrimp wrapped in coconut and deep fried, then skewered and mounted a pineapple top", giving the effect of enormous airplanes circling an island and swerving in front of my face. Furthermore, the shrimp were easily separated from their deep-fry jackets, leaving little Body Snatcher-style husks behind.
On the way home, my brother and the kids slept and I talked with my sister-in-law. We've known each other since our college days; she's about four years younger than me but we ran in overlapping circles. We watched the harvest moon mark the summer solstice and cruised down the highway until we came home. The children were unpacked and put to bed; it was after midnight, and I had an early flight top prepare for.
I could end there, but there was one more thing. As I finished packing, my niece came down to kiss me goodbye. Four years old, she burst into tears. "I don't want you to go-oh-oh-oh-oh," she cried. "I want you to stay-ay-ay-ay-ay." Tears running down her cheeks, I told her I would visit again, and that I had people back home who wanted to see me. She wouldn't stop. I pointed out that if I stayed, it wouldn't mean ice cream and swimming every day; I'd put her to work. She cried some more but finally calmed down.
Her brother was easier. He just wanted to fall asleep.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Like a Sailor, in a Storm at Sea
It had been a hot day all day long. It wasn't oppressively hot, like the weekend before it. The water was nice, steadily draining down the Hudson all day until about 3 PM, when it begin to flow in. We were shorthanded, and there was a near-constant line of people waiting to go out in our kayaks, but overall it was manageable.
A little before four the wind began to kick up. It was nice, a breeze to lighten the temperatures, but then we began to notice a heavy humidity weighing in the aird, and looking across the water we could see a mist, a light fog, forming and setting over the water. There were clouds above the Jersey side of the We knew we'd have to end the line soon just because it would take at least half an hour to get through the line. We started to pack up our unessentials. Then came the first drops of rain.
Rain in itself isn't so bad. Rain is just water, and we had all been out on the water already. It was very light rain, but then the wind began to pick up and the water got choppy. At low tide, the effects of wind and rain get exacerbated, as the water hits the ground sooner and the wind rushes across the surface. Moreover, the wind and tide were running into the same direction, so it was harder and harder for neophyte paddlers to keep from floating up the river. We called people in and cancelled the rest.
It was a good thing we did too. The rain came down harder and the sky was completely overcast. We began bringing our boats up to load them up on our carts. The wind kicked up something fierce and the rain came like soft bullets. A stack of papers came loose and blew all over the place; life jackets were ripped from the rack that they hung on. We managed to pack up all of our gear and start rolling everything to our storage containers, but only a few items at a time. The rack of jacks fishtailed wildly in the wind. The Hudson was gray like the Atlantic, with choppy, rain-dimpled waves.
Our storage area protected but still had a large puddle in it. We keep our things in a storage bin underneath a highway about five stories above us. Rain gutters from the highway drain not far from where we are at, and some kind of leak creates a sprinkler five feet wide, showering us with water below.
We are neighbors with a set of basketball courts. These are also underneath the highway, and so they continued. Little League baseball players huddled under the highway as well, their games rained out.
The wind died down but the rain persisted. We loaded everything up. We were soaked. The sun began to come out, leading to a surreal effect as the sun refracted in the water that was in the air: it was raining but the atmosphere was glowing with light. Two of us stopped at an outdoor cafe for drinks and watched until the rain finally stopped. When it did, we walked up to 72nd street and made our way home.
A little before four the wind began to kick up. It was nice, a breeze to lighten the temperatures, but then we began to notice a heavy humidity weighing in the aird, and looking across the water we could see a mist, a light fog, forming and setting over the water. There were clouds above the Jersey side of the We knew we'd have to end the line soon just because it would take at least half an hour to get through the line. We started to pack up our unessentials. Then came the first drops of rain.
Rain in itself isn't so bad. Rain is just water, and we had all been out on the water already. It was very light rain, but then the wind began to pick up and the water got choppy. At low tide, the effects of wind and rain get exacerbated, as the water hits the ground sooner and the wind rushes across the surface. Moreover, the wind and tide were running into the same direction, so it was harder and harder for neophyte paddlers to keep from floating up the river. We called people in and cancelled the rest.
It was a good thing we did too. The rain came down harder and the sky was completely overcast. We began bringing our boats up to load them up on our carts. The wind kicked up something fierce and the rain came like soft bullets. A stack of papers came loose and blew all over the place; life jackets were ripped from the rack that they hung on. We managed to pack up all of our gear and start rolling everything to our storage containers, but only a few items at a time. The rack of jacks fishtailed wildly in the wind. The Hudson was gray like the Atlantic, with choppy, rain-dimpled waves.
Our storage area protected but still had a large puddle in it. We keep our things in a storage bin underneath a highway about five stories above us. Rain gutters from the highway drain not far from where we are at, and some kind of leak creates a sprinkler five feet wide, showering us with water below.
We are neighbors with a set of basketball courts. These are also underneath the highway, and so they continued. Little League baseball players huddled under the highway as well, their games rained out.
The wind died down but the rain persisted. We loaded everything up. We were soaked. The sun began to come out, leading to a surreal effect as the sun refracted in the water that was in the air: it was raining but the atmosphere was glowing with light. Two of us stopped at an outdoor cafe for drinks and watched until the rain finally stopped. When it did, we walked up to 72nd street and made our way home.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Atomic Funkytown
There's this crazy ad for nuclear energy that plays while I eat breakfast. It's from a company called Areva. Basically, a series of isometric animations demonstrate the delivery of nuclear energy, from mining uranium all the way to the dance floor in some distant, unnamed metropolis.
I'm not particularly against nuclear energy, but I do find it disturbing to have it oversimplified into a series of animations that are as complicated as a Lego build guide, set to 'Funkytown'.
The company is Areva. Extended cuts of the animation are on their website.
I'm not particularly against nuclear energy, but I do find it disturbing to have it oversimplified into a series of animations that are as complicated as a Lego build guide, set to 'Funkytown'.
The company is Areva. Extended cuts of the animation are on their website.
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Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Hot
Is it hot in New York City this week? Let me put it to you this way: it's not even 9 AM and the temperature is already 92 degrees.
Over the weekend, when I went to my kayaking spot around 9 AM, it was already in the 80s and there was a low haze, like a warm fog, that hung across the park and the river.
There are no changes predicted for the week. I am wearing all of four articles of clothing plus my sandals. I'd wear less if it was work-appropriate. Time for the summer dresses.
Over the weekend, when I went to my kayaking spot around 9 AM, it was already in the 80s and there was a low haze, like a warm fog, that hung across the park and the river.
There are no changes predicted for the week. I am wearing all of four articles of clothing plus my sandals. I'd wear less if it was work-appropriate. Time for the summer dresses.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Monday, June 2, 2008
Best Argument Evah for not Breeding within Families
Slightly disturbing article on folks who do not walk upright. They seem genetically incapable of it. The culprit? Inbreeding.
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