Digital Media and Analog Storage

This week during the evenings I am trying to reconcile my past habits with my future direction. In my den, I have several boxes of music (in the form of CDs and *gasp* cassette tapes), and about as many boxes of paper files, waiting to be unpacked. These had been stored in shelves or drawers in multiple versions of dens past, and again need to be assigned a place, before final organization (and decoration) of my most often used space can occur.

Except...

Nothing is heading in this direction. Physical storage of media, whether print or recordings, is heavily trending toward digital (or even virtual). Digital media takes up space, yes, but.. a very different kind. Not on shelves or in drawers. And I have plenty of both formats: hundreds of CDs and tapes (and yeah, some vintage vinyl), plus... nearly 240 Gig of music in .mp3 or .m4a format. There is several linear feet of paper stuffed into manila folders and hanging files, labeled by topic, while at the same time... a robust User/Documents/ electronic file directory with .doc and .pdf and .ppt and .xls files. And let's not even get started on the subject of .jpg and .gif files..

So what to do? Scan and upload everything, then pitch the hard copy? But, I still WANT books on my shelves, artwork on my walls, and magazines to leaf through. But I also want copies of research articles in .pdf form, digital pics for use in screensavers & blog posts, access to online e-zines for fast browsing, and music that I can shift from computer to mobile device, organize into playlists & put on random shuffle while I study or drive. I feel like I'm in between technological eras, with a foot in each, standing astride an ever-widening chasm.



All this existential disquiet is centered on the presence of half a dozen cardboard boxes piled in a corner behind my office recliner, against which are propped my framed Chagall prints. I have gotten into a pleasant routine in this new place without the benefit of anything in that corner. And yet... a large chunk of my past life sits in those paper files, and many hours of aural pleasure (not to mention expense!) are in those jewel cases. As for the Chagalls... I can't even put into words what they mean.

I have a feeling that when this week is over, I will have made some level of compromise. Out with the old, in with the new... except for these things right here, which with I am NOT parting. Period. :)

weekend

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busy friday night
sleeping in on saturday
sunday day of rest


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What could be more wholesome?

... than going to church, a baseball game, and the state fair?

Sunday qualified as one of the wholesom-est days in a long time. :)

After church, it was a quick change of clothes and off to the ballpark with some old California and Wisconsin friends who happen to live here, now. Wow. Small world. He's on his final tour before retirement but will be here a couple more years. Nice - people we know! :)



The ballpark is nice, the weather was hot, but tolerable in the shade. And it's a scenic place, with nice views from the mezzanine concourse.



From there, back home for a clean dry shirt, and then off to the fair again. This time we knew where the air conditioning was! One of the prime spots is the livestock pavilion where they happened to have dog agility contests going on.



One of the coolest parts was seeing the dogs weave through the pylons. Dogs' bodies are kind of hinged in the middle anyway, and some of them could really snap that butt through one way while the paws went another. Fun to watch. :)



But we were really there for the grandstand show. Final night and a good headliner - Sheryl Crow. So after another pork chop and one last twinkie log, it was time to head to our seats.



What a gorgeous old facade, built in 1909.



Like the grandstand at Wisconsin's state fair, it overlooks a racetrack. But this is a dirt track, so no NASCAR events here.



Big stage, though, and really a huge grandstand. It was pretty hard to see the performer, but the jumbotrons helped.



Colbie Caillat was the opener and she did a nice job. Except here songs have a sameness to them, as do her dynamics.



Unlike Sheryl Crow, who is pretty darned versatile.




Her efforts ranged from country to pop to straight rock to singer/songwriter piano ballads to Jamaican grooves to 60's funk. Really, one talented girl, that Sheryl. She even covered Michael Jackson, and pulled it off. Great backing band.



Later a nice breeze came wafting in from the back of the stands and people started hanging out up there. Nice view of the food stands below, plus all the fistfights and arrests (which made the national news this week... race related. :( Apparently cops said it was "Beat Whitey" night at the fair, with marauding bands of youth preying on older people and single moms.)



But isolated trouble aside, it was otherwise very fair-like.



I think it's a true statement - go to the public festivals if you want to get to know a place. You do get a sense that way, for good or ill. And I think, here... it's mostly good.

Exultate! Jubilate!

What an extraordinary day. I walked out of the office to my car at noon and could not believe what I was feeling. It must be 68 degrees out, I thought. Then I started driving and the thermometer said 81. Wha-huh? 81? No way.

Later, back at the office I checked the dew point map and - voila! No more red dots focused on Iowa! Pale yellow! Light green! And by the time I left work, the dew point was in the 40s. It felt marvelous out, even with temps in the low 80s.



But I gained a spiritual insight as well. It was such a perfect day that when I stepped out of the car again (to head into the library, return my Vienna Teng and Shadowfax CDs, and pick up one by Sly and the Family Stone and a Michael Jackson anthology) praise to God spontaneously erupted from me. Couldn't help it, right there in the parking lot, I'm grinning like a fool and lifting CD-filled hands to God in gratitude for such a day. After giving thanks, I boldly ask God:

Why can't it be like this every day?

"Because then, son, you would love this world too much. Remember, this is not home."

Oh. Yeah. Sorry God... on days like this I forget. :)

"See?"

Capitalism: the dominant secular religion

I've had a personal beef with corporate america for some time now, as regular readers here already know. But an article recently by Andrew Seidman of McClatchy Newspapers, Could better corporate ethics have prevented BP oil spill? struck a chord. Probably because I'm taking this Christian Social Ethics class. :) Here's an excerpt:

WASHINGTON — Religious leaders and scholars are clamoring for more corporate accountability in the wake of what they call the destruction of God's creation in the Gulf of Mexico, and they may have found a partner in their battle cry: the American business school.

"Look at the Gulf disaster — no one has questioned the core value system that BP used to cut corners with that rig out in the Gulf; namely, the race to maximize profits at all costs," said Mark Wallace, a professor of religious studies at Swarthmore College. "That's the religion of our time . . . the fundamental worldview that animates our common life together."

That [idea] has spurred deeper thinking about the economy by religious scholars, who've turned to the Bible for answers.

"A general theme from the Hebrew Scriptures that may be relevant to Deepwater is one that runs through the Prophets: When the people have become arrogant and obsessed with wealth, the poor suffer and the land suffers," said Willis Jenkins, professor of social ethics at Yale Divinity School. "Says the prophet Hosea: 'Even the birds of the air and fish of the sea are perishing.'"

The imagery of the trees, water and land that pervades the Psalms suggests that "the song of Creation is meant to be respected and revered," noted Mary Evelyn Tucker, coordinator of the Forum on Religion and Ecology at Yale.

Instead, Tucker lamented, disasters like the spill in the Gulf illustrate the "endless appetite of the octopus of market capitalism."

**********

Yep, maximize profits at all cost. Including the cost to nature, to workers, to families, to society. That's a behavior I've seen over and over again in real life, but have rarely seen it related to the words of the OT Prophets. Good call, Andrew.

It makes me grateful that the company I work for now, while desirous of profit, is not willing to get there at all costs. And I can even refer to a phrase from the Prophets or the Psalms... and actually get knowing nods of understanding. It feels good. :)

Ten best college fight songs. Ever.

I've noticed that a new style of contemporary punctuated emphatic writing has now. become. mainstream.

Plus, when one renders an opinion about something and wants to be dogmatic about it, one ends the particular phrase with a single word: Ever.

As in: Worst. Movie. Ever.

Or as in: Best. Kisser. Ever. (you know who you are..)

Or as in Hottest. Summer. Ever. (Like the one we've endured to date here, for instance)

I happen to have been analyzing college fight songs and ranking them (with an entirely arbitrary scale which I developed). And in the spirit of the new style of emphatic pronouncement, I present the results of my research: this list of the Best. College. Fight. Songs. Ever.

Sure to offend someone. Or... everyone.

What makes for a good fight song? Well, IMHO (jeepers, I'm doing it again..), it needs to have:

> a really memorable melody, or at least phrasing that flows well with the school's name
> something interesting for the trombones to do (like counterpoint against the trumpets, or a key change so trombones can take the melody on the second chorus)
> a driving drum cadence, punctuating the brass in a way that makes you want to say U-rah-rah!
> use of the relative minor, the diminished, and the major seventh chords (just to tug on the emotions)
> an alternative melody section, or at least a good bridge to the repeat (you know, "one...., and two...., and three-and-four-and-five, hey!" - like that.)
> a slam-bang finish, so everyone knows when to cheer. :)
> and it doesn't hurt to have been written prior to 1920. There really was a golden age to these things.

After surveying nearly 100 examples, these are my top ten:

1. Notre Dame "Victory March"
2. Penn State "Fight On, State"
3. Syracuse "Down, Down The Field"

(tough to decide among those first three, they're nearly perfect)

4. Michigan "The Victors"
5. "On, Wisconsin!"
6. "Hail, West Virginia!"

(again, almost equal, but not in the top tier)

7. "Yea, Alabama!"
8. Ohio State "Across The Field"
9. "Go U Northwestern!"
10. USC "Fight On!"

Honorable mention also goes to:

> "Bow Down to Washington" - very close, but... not. quite. there. (oops, sorry..)
> Iowa - any song where the band stops so you can shout out the school's name needs to be on the list somewhere.
> Marquette - ditto for any song where the lyrics make no sense to anyone but the loyal insiders. I mean, "Ring Out Ahoya" ?? what the heck does that mean?
> Minnesota Vikings - "Skol, Vikings, Let's Go!" (I know, it's a pro team, but it's sung in a Norwegian accent, and it's just so darn cute!)
> Navy "Anchors Aweigh" - I'm not really sure if you'd consider it a fight song, or an Alma Mater, or a military parade drill march, so... it can't be on the list proper, but it's really a heck of a song.

In the Alma Mater category, there really is only one. "Varsity" (WI) makes me choke up every time I hear it, and I didn't even go there.

So there you go. Argue with me if you will. U-rah.

whine

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screaming in the night
like high voltage power lines
mating cicadas


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They emerged early. They were supposed to have waited until 2014. Seventeen years have become thirteen for some reason. ISU scientists think it might be global warming. I don't know... to me, it's just as likely they know that the Mayan calendar is ending in a couple of years and they wanted one last fling before the world ends. :)

New State, New Fair

Move to a new place? Start taking part in local cultural events. :)

Like the Adel Sweet Corn Festival, in a small town 20 min. west of here, less than 4,000 people in size, but probably about half again as big as the little burg in which I grew up. And, like my home town, smack in the middle of farm country, unpretentious and simple.

Even with 70 vendors (or so they said), really, it's all about the corn. All you care to eat. No charge, friend. Our treat. Just step in line, we'll get you some paper plates,



just tell us how many ears you want, then go to the condiment table and slather it with butter sauce (note the sawdust sprinkled around to catch the grease), dust it with salt or pepper,



pull yourself up a patch of grass or a chunk of curb, and chow down!



Mmm, mmm. How do the volunteers manage to cook all that corn? After all, there's a refrigerated semi-trailer full, all shucked, washed, and crated the night before.



They do it like loading hay bales into the mow. Line up some guys and put it on the belt. Drop the crates into the boiler for 8 minutes,



haul it out, drop it on the belt, dump it in the vats, and... serve.



Pretty slick for a little town. And speaking of little towns, where else do you make your own entertainment like this? The volunteer fire department comes out and plays "spray the barrel" on a side street. (like tug of war but pushing the barrel to the other side's goal). Of course all the spectating kids get wet and it's entertaining as can be.



Small town America at its unspoiled best. :)

Then, off to the REAL party: The State Fair. Yeah, baby. The big time. And when I say big time I mean BIG.

1,212 pounds of it, right here. Now, isn't that attractive? Makes you want to run right out and have a pork chop on a stick.

And, yes, they were marvelous. :) Just about the best pork chop I've ever had, factory meat or not. And I honestly do repent. I do. I pledge to not have pork chop on a stick for at least... a year.

But what I thought was more impressive than the Big Boar, was the cutie taking orders outside the pork tent in a tiara. The Hog Queen herself (excuse me, the Iowa Pork Princess) was waitressing in dress, heels and sash. And let me tell you, close up, she was as fresh faced and sweet as you could imagine, especially for standing 3 feet from blazing roasters on a 93 degree day.

Not a hint of a glisten on her face. Amazing.



Now, of course, pork isn't the only hit at the fair. There's um, corn.



And there's a thriving dairy industry, too, as witnessed by the butter sculptures, including the famous (?) Butter Cow.



Plus, the wine industry is a contributor to the state's economy as well - to the tune of $235 million. Not bad, considering the terroir and climate they have to work with.



Naturally, even in rural America there is the occasional jaw-dropping exhibit. This one is a recreation of Minas Tirith (from Lord of the Rings) all made from matchsticks. Yikes!



Maybe there's some genuine benefits from obsession. Artists generally suffer from it, and the rest of us benefit.



In sum, I'd put the Iowa State Fair on a par with Wisconsin's fair. Better in some areas, worse in others. Both, though, are a stretch behind Minnesota. That one, my friends, is one seriously good fair. But for the time being... this one'll do.

Magnifying Glass

Ever see those cartoons of a little kid using a magnifying glass to focus the sun's rays, and use it to fry ants to a crisp?

I'm starting to feel like an ant. Or maybe like Job. Look at these maps from Sunday and yesterday. Is God experimenting, focusing His hot gaze on Iowa, just to see what happens? If He is, it's way too intense for me. I'm feeling both soggy and crispy at the same time, or (dare I say it as State Fair is starting) ... deep fried.



But then, like Job, I speak of things I do not understand. May God deal mercifully with me, a serial summer complainer. :) I'm sure that I will only appreciate winter that much more, for this uncharacteristic tropical-rain-forest-y summer we're having.

dew

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power lines adrip
spiderwebbing 'cross the yard
early morning art


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Too much heat, too much water

Look, I know it's August, and it's supposed to be hot, but...

Heat index readings above 110?
Dew points over 80?
Heck, the dew point in the house is over 60 - with the A/C on!
According to the National Weather Service, this is tropical and "oppressive heat". Yeah, no fooling!

And then there's the storms. My first month here, I was driving to work during downpours every other day. Then last month, the windstorms, with tree limbs falling around the neighborhood, and on my car (I may get it back from the shop today, finally). Now the lightning and thunder is waking up the dog every night - bark, bark, bark on the back porch at 2AM, 3AM (why does it storm in the wee hours?) - so into the basement he goes, and try to go back to sleep.

Some city streets are closed due to flooding, the neighborhood creek is rising daily, and you can see the water rolling down the street toward the bridge as people's sump pumps push it toward storm drains already at capacity. Jeepers, Molly, it's crazy here.

Gotta wonder what winter will be like.

Guilty

The Thirties were a cosmopolitan time (pre-war, especially). And music was shared internationally then, as now. I think of a song like Guilty, lyrics written in 1931 by Gus Kahn, an American, sung that same year by Al Bowlly, a Brit, and a big hit in France before and after the war - so much so that it was part of the French musical nostalgic landscape when the movie Amélie was made in 2001 (scored by Yann Tiersen): the 70-year-old recording made the soundtrack.

Gets me all sentimental when I hear it. :)



Is it a sin? Is it a crime?
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

Maybe I'm wrong dreaming of you
Dreaming the lonely night through
If it's a crime then I'm guilty
Guilty of dreaming of you

What can I do? What can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through, you'll go your way.
But I'll always feel just the same.

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

(Instrumental Interlude)

What can I do? And what can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through, you'll go your way.
But I'll always feel just the same.

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

Don Draper I'm not

... thank the Lord. :) If you watch AMC's Mad Men, like I do, you know that for all his good looks and charm... this guy's got problems.


While I might like to have his looks and charm (not to mention be 4 inches taller and flat-bellied), I do NOT want his problems, so..
I'll just go with what I've got, aesthetically pleasing or not, and try to keep it all functioning. ;)

Watching the show, though, I always marvel at the willingness of female characters of all ages to ... you know ... horizontally succumb to his looks and charm (...plus what's in his wallet). What is it anyway, I wonder, that makes him the total package, especially to women 15 years his junior?

Then, as I am wont to do, I get all analytical about it and, aha!
A theorem emerges! To illustrate, there are some characteristics that typically start strong, and tail off as men age:

Preteen years - high energy, optimism & resiliency
Teens & twenties - peak endurance & sexual drive




Then there are some others which start small and grow as men age:

Fifties & early 60s - high sophistication & peak earnings
Retirement years - broad perspective & worldly wisdom



In between you have a blending of all of these - some waxing and some waning - but they are all there in some measure. What a man's gaining in sophistication, perspective and earnings, compensates for what he's losing in endurance, drive and resiliency.



Okay, so maybe the kurtosis on these graphs is a little high, and the tails should be a little thicker; what can I say - taking them off the internet saved me the trouble of building them myself in Excel. But you get the idea - a man who is a few years either side of 40 really IS the complete package. He's at the Don Draper stage of life, a full dose of manhood in all respects.

And, yeah.. I sort of get why that's attractive. Once upon a time, I might have been there myself. ;)

Hunting and fishing

... for churches. It's a somewhat arduous process.

Whether you're looking in a traditional sanctuary environment



or in a converted warehouse setting,



if you stick within a particular denomination (or "family" of denominations - from the same branch of the Reformation, for instance), you pretty much know what the theology is going to be.
So that's not the issue. The issue becomes praxis. Not what do you believe, but how do you live it out here?

And I don't mean programs, not exactly. Not like: are there adult classes, or youth trips, or home group studies, or outreach to the poor? (although those things certainly are of interest..)

Rather, the questions are about substance (what you do), style (how you do it), and motivation (why you do it) - all three. From these you determine the church community's level of vitality, its passions and personality. Then you can assess if you fit in with that.

Finally, you walk away from every church you visit with a sense of whether or not you felt welcomed and wanted. And sometimes that trumps all the rest. :)

Getting closer on the evangelical front - might be today! On the Catholic side, still looking, two more parishes to visit... but at least it's a way to see different parts of the city.