Food For Thought

Fun With Tennis Balls

Honda Meets Rube Goldberg

This two-minute film called "Cog" is a Honda commercial that took months to complete. After 606 takes at a cost of $3 million, it worked. All it took was one gear, value or tire not moving as planned to start the whole process over. When the film was successfully completed, the film crew popped some champagne. It reminds me a little of Mousetrap, that game I played as a kid. No computer graphics were used in filming. It's a classic Rube Goldberg machine.

Spray Paint Art

TUESDAY. In my web meanderings this morning, I came across this fascinating nine-minute video. For more info on this Slovenian artist and his technique, visit his website.

Life Goes On

FRIDAY. I haven't blogged in a very long time, or so it seems. For me, blogging is akin to breathing. When I don't blog, I feel as if a piece of me is suffocating. The challenge is finding something to blog about when I'm either in the doldrums or feeling decidedly uninspired. I blame both for my recent wordless hiatus.

Telly's hormones have kicked in. She's been "in season" for the past week and a half. Evidently unaware he was neutered five years ago, Murphy has turned our backyard into an X-rated playground. In all honesty, the blame doesn't rest solely with Murphy. An insatiable and incorrigible tease, Telly aggressively encourages Murphy's participation in this ritual, despite his total inability to breed. He seems most willing, nonetheless. I've spent the better part of a week trying to keep them apart so they don't "tie." (For more info on canine reproduction, click here.) Today I threw caution to the wind and relaxed my vigil. No strange dogs or coyotes have shown up all week, so I think it's safe to leave her outside unattended, but the urge to check on her every 10 minutes consumes me. Our four-foot fence is quite jumpable for an eager male suitor. Telly, herself, demonstrates daily how easily she can scale the fence, but thus far she jumps only if we're on the other side of it. Otherwise she's content to remain prisoner on our property. However, that premise has not been tested with an intact male dog waiting in the street for her escape over the Great Wall of Confinement.

The worst part of this is the undignified diapers Telly must wear during this three-week cycle. We traded the poorly-designed disposable whites for a more stylish and sturdy flannel-lined blue denim garment with disposable liners. Tres chic! The denim keeps our off-white carpets stain-free and does double duty as a cotton chastity belt. [The latter function is, at best, dubious. Murphy is not the least bit discouraged by Telly's hotpants.]


The prospect of raising a litter of puppies in our too-small kitchen gives me palpitations and cold sweats. M has threatened to spay the dog in the back room if I don't take care of it soon, or at least before Telly's next heat. Veterinary responsibilities fall on my side of the tote board, as I'm the one with flexible daytime scheduling options.

I'm starting to get caught up on projects long overdue. Health challenges and computer setbacks have slowed my work flow for several weeks. My work doesn't go away when I fall behind. It waits for me. This is both a blessing and a curse. Projects pile up on my desk like mountains. Hopefully I'll be caught up in less than a week, though I'm sure it will require forfeiting part of my weekend.

Our Albuquerque weather has been unusually warm this past week. Relaxing in the back yard after work each day has been delightfully soothing. Deep blue, cloudless skies provide a restful backdrop for the hot blanket of sunlight that pierces the bone-dry desert air. I try to ignore the dogs, but I'm easily distracted by their irrepressible drive to mate, in spite of the apparent futility of their efforts. The polite thing would be to turn away, but my curiosity always wins out. Let the record show that male dogs do not (repeat, do not) lose their urge to procreate when neutered. Murphy is powerless to resist the lure of our young canine in estrus. Mother Nature must be laughing up her sleeve.

Our record-breaking winter in Albuquerque has been intense, but brief. The trees have taken on the pea-green hue of leaves joyfully unfolding in early Spring. Dogwood and forsythia blossoms hang from delicate limbs, and daffodils stand at attention in neighborhood gardens. Though cooler temperatures are predicted for the coming week, the welcome mat is (unofficially) out: Spring is knocking at our door. Even sparrows are mating in our dusty front yard.

Life goes on. It's one of the few things on which we can depend. The sun rises and sets, the seasons change like clockwork, creatures make babies, birds migrate, and time marches on, relentlessly. During moments when there's not much else going on, nature hums like a well-oiled machine, we the casual observers of perennial rhythms. All we need do is slow down and notice. I'm one who embarasses easily when asked, "What's new?" and I've nothing to report. I wonder--just maybe--if it's enough to be content with answering, "Nothing at all." There's great richness hiding behind the illusion of an uneventful and (erroneously-assessed) boring life. Spring is around the corner. (I know that sounds impossible to folks in the Northeast chipping away thick ice after yesterday's storm.) I invite you to "stop and smell the roses" with me. Look for the wonder in Nature and her unstoppable cycles. It can't hurt.

Two black dogs sleep peacefully this evening, side by side, Murphy's paws resting gently against Telly's back. Two peas in a pod, gentle giant and half pint, forever friends. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on.

Enjoy the tune. It's one of my favorites.

Casualties of War

We shall never stop war, whatever machinery we may devise, until we have learned to think always, with a sort of desperate urgency and an utter self-identification, of single human beings.
-Victor Gollancz

MONDAY. For the past year and a half I've been monitoring a website that accepts contest submissions to win a personal guitar lesson with Esteban. My job is collecting and reviewing contest entries, confirming submissions, and preparing them for consideration by contest judges. In January the Grand Prize was awarded to Dustin Gould, a young Marine serving in Iraq, whose contest entry told how Esteban's music and inspiration had carried him through a very difficult time. He was due home in early Spring from his fourth tour in Iraq. I promised him we'd delay his guitar lesson with Esteban until his safe return.

Early this morning, I learned that 28-year-old Dustin was killed last Friday in Al Anbar Province, Iraq, along with Navy Hospitalman Lucas W.A. Emch, 21. Both were scheduled to return to the U.S. this month. Though I'd never met Dustin, we'd exchanged several emails after I notified him that he'd won the contest. He was very excited and wrote that having the opportunity to meet Esteban was "a dream come true." He couldn't wait to get home and have the chance to learn from his idol, and hoped we wouldn't be inconvenienced because he wouldn't be home for several months.

I mourn the loss of another sweet, innocent, brave soul who died supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom. I keep asking myself why--half expecting an answer, but knowing at the deepest possible level there simply ARE no answers. Staff Sgt. Dustin Michael Gould, a bomb technician, was killed instantly while handling an explosive device he discovered on the road. He died trying to save his platoon. Over the weekend, his mother told the AP that her son was a kind, gentle man who loved animals and was very generous. She went on to say her son was proud of what he was doing as a Marine, but was "sick of the way things were."

A native of Norman, Oklahoma, Dustin attended high school in Longmont, Colorado, where he enlisted in the Marines ten years ago. Assigned to the 7th Engineer Support Battalion, 1st Marine Logistics Group, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, Dustin was stationed at Camp Pendleton, California.

Dustin's contest entry reads:

My review is not about winning the contest even though it would be such an honor to thank the person that helped me through the most difficult adjustment in my life through his music. I am a U.S. Marine and my job, in civilian terms would be best described as being on the bomb squad. I have done over 2 deployments, equaling around 18 months in Iraq. I have seen things most could never imagine; or want to. Anyway, this last time I came back around May I was having a hard time adjusting back to our society. The amount of depression and anger I locked inside of me was unbearable. Including the nightmares. On a Saturday mid morning I pulled myself out of bed and turned on the TV. As I flipped through some channels I caught the end of Boogie Woogie on HSN and listened to Esteban talk about this great deal. It was his Limited Signed Edition Midnight Steel Acoustic/Electric guitar with amp, stand, and instructional DVD's. Well I had always wanted to learn to play but I wanted to see how good of a deal it really was. So I got onto the internet and found the Esteban website I heard the two songs that had meaning and poised fire into me. The songs were Fernando and Malaguena. So I got on the phone and ordered the complete guitar package. I have been playing now for a month, and my guitar is never far away. Learning to play has kept my mind occupied but has given me a sense of peace and excitement each time I play. I can only imagine how I will feel when I can play better. The guitar I have, the Midnight Steel, is not only beautiful, but the sound is crisp and immaculate. The instructional DVD's are broken down to the lowest level to where anyone, even with no music background, can play. I strongly recommend everyone to get one of Esteban's guitars and instructional DVD's. Engulf yourself with the passion that is music. And to Esteban from the bottom of my heart. THANK YOU.

Dustin, here are the Esteban songs that inspired you, along with a few others, to carry you on your journey home.

I am one of those people who don't understand war. It makes no sense to me. The hardest thing is realizing that Dustin is one of over 3,100 Americans who have died in Iraq since this pointless war began on March 19, 2003. Every one of them had a story. Every one of them had loved ones whose lives were forever changed. Dying in combat seems the ultimate sacrifice, one that touches all of us. But I'm ashamed to admit I sometimes wrap myself in a veil of forgetfulness, like many others, just so I can function on a daily basis. Eventually reality hits me square in the face, like this morning, and I realize I can no longer hide behind my denial.

As we approach the four year anniversary of the start of the war, may we be mindful of how war ruptures our society, our families, our individual lives. There is no glory in war. May we all live peaceful lives and pray that somehow, sometime, our personal peace will translate to a global level. May this war end soon, so the dying stops. May we all embrace, as Victor Gollancz suggests, an attitude of "desperate urgency and an utter self-identification, of single human beings." Dustin Gould was a single human being, as are all casualties of war. The courageous freedom fighters in Iraq are heroes deserving our greatest respect and support.

A.J. Muste writes, "There is no way to peace. Peace is the way." As you contemplate terrorism, genocide, escalating crime in our cities, and conflict in Iraq and other parts of the world, consider the possibility that peace begins at home--in your family, in your community, but more importantly, in yourself. Find that inner peace. Live peace. Teach peace. Be peace. Who knows what might happen? You've nothing to lose. Expect the miracle of peace. As brothers and sisters in the human family, peace is our birthright.

Dustin leaves a wife of eight years, Elizabeth; his father, David; his mother, Karen; a sister, Bethany White; and his grandparents, Bob and Inez Gould. Dustin's half brother, Army Spc. Jason Corbett, 23, died January 15 of injuries sustained in a firefight in Karmah, Iraq.

Rest in peace, Dustin. Your mission is complete.

I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.
-Dwight D. Eisenhower

A Lunar Eclipse

The lunar eclipse of August 27, 413 B.C., affected the outcome of a battle in the Peloponnesian War. The Athenians were ready to move their forces from Syracuse when the Moon was eclipsed. Frightened by this celestial omen, the soldiers and sailors were reluctant to leave. Their commander, Nicias, consulted the soothsayers and postponed the departure for twenty-seven days. This delay gave an advantage to their enemies, the Syracusans, who then defeated the entire Athenian fleet and army, and killed Nicias.

SATURDAY. I'm experimenting with a new streaming music service, and you, my faithful readers, are my guinea pigs. Today's audioblog offering is a potpourri of world music. If this genre isn't your cup of tea, you have my blessings to leave without listening. If you're up for an audio adventure to exotic places, welcome aboard!

I put this little broadcast together in honor of the lunar eclipse visible this evening on all seven continents, from all corners of the planet. I hope you enjoy this eclectic playlist of music from around the globe, hand-selected from my sizeable CD collection. I created this playlist so I could listen while I work. If you dare to join me, press the start button. If you don't like what's playing, drag the progress slider (that little turquoise bar on the left) all the way to the right to advance to the next tune. The volume control is at the far right.

A broadband connection is essential for listening. This broadcast is approximately one hour 45 minutes long.