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Friday, August 13, 2004
MUSIC FESTIVALS AND FIGHTIN' WEIGHTS..
Awhile back, Bennet was lamenting his scrawny assed-ness. It wasn't until recently that I realized how scrawny my ass had become. We recently got a scale, and when I weighed myself last week, I was a whopping 159 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal. I know. This seems too light for my ~6' frame. But the curious thing is, I've never been any stronger than I am right now. Maybe I was close, during my undergrad days, when I weighed closer to 180 or so. But this summer I've been carrying a pack that was 45-50 pounds most days, and over 70 pounds when we had camping gear with (I know, because I weighed it). And it never really seemed like too much. This was usually at over 9,000 feet. So I'm not too interested in gaining weight, unless it's muscle.
I think I'm going to take a class offered through the outreach school this semester, entitled "Grappling and Striking."
Right...Woodstick..I forgot to blog about this awesome event after it happened last week. Centennial, Wyoming, is a weird place. The elevation is about 150 times greater than the population. 63 folk, or something like that. And it is an awfully random mix of people...crazed mountain man looking types, stoned hippies - sporting 'Centennial camoflage' (tie-dye), sunburnt ranchhands, average construction types, and yuppie summer homers. And they all seem to get along just fine. The rednecks and yuppies, stoned hippies and drunk carpenters. And anything that happens in Centennial seems a little cooler than it would be anywhere else, maybe because of the thin air, maybe because you're right at the foot of the mountains, maybe because of the aforementioned weird people.
So every year (starting last year, I think) they have this day-long music festival in Centennial, called Woodstick. There were a few folks on the roster I thought sounded good, particularly a guy named Peter Queal and his friends, who play some real groovy, lounge-type tunes. We also found out, the day before, that Maggie Simpson would be there. Not that Maggie Simpson. And she is always awesome.
Jenn was out of town for the weekend, and Rick was back in town, so it was me, Rick, and Abbie. Abbie and I decided Rick should be the designated driver, on what specific grounds I now forget. Well..it was good times. Our friend Dan brought beers, and taught us that you can bring in beers, to this place, which is sort of an outdoor bar, as long as it's one at a time. So this we did. We bought overpriced Busch Light (it appeals to my inner 10th grader) at the (Un)Friendly Store, just down the road from the Beartree, where the concert was.
So it was mostly good. Somehow or other, during Maggie Simpson's set, I ended up sitting by Maggie's mom. She was a sweet old lady, and we talked quite a bit. I didn't talk to her dad, Pete, of political notoriety, because he was sitting on the other side. One time, when Maggie's mom and I were talking she put her arm around me and pulled me in so as to hear what I was saying, and all the folks I was with had shocked looks on their face, and then Dan said "Is she HITTING on you?" And I said, 'I think so.' It was great, drunken times. Maggie kicked ass as usual, and Peter Queal's group did some rockin' songs. The only bad part was that the last few bands were kinda lame. Dan described one of the people in one of the final bands as 'Jimmy Buffet incarnate,' and I thought..'oh, for crying out loud.' There are about 5 things worse than Jimmy Buffet in the whole world. One of those things is the Eagles. This band did covers by both.
So all in all, it was a pretty good time.
This weekend, we're going to a music festival at the foot of the Laramie Mountains, and will camp out, and may have adult beverages. It's bluegrass, so there's probably little danger of us having to sit through one more awful cover of Hotel California.
-m
Awhile back, Bennet was lamenting his scrawny assed-ness. It wasn't until recently that I realized how scrawny my ass had become. We recently got a scale, and when I weighed myself last week, I was a whopping 159 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal. I know. This seems too light for my ~6' frame. But the curious thing is, I've never been any stronger than I am right now. Maybe I was close, during my undergrad days, when I weighed closer to 180 or so. But this summer I've been carrying a pack that was 45-50 pounds most days, and over 70 pounds when we had camping gear with (I know, because I weighed it). And it never really seemed like too much. This was usually at over 9,000 feet. So I'm not too interested in gaining weight, unless it's muscle.
I think I'm going to take a class offered through the outreach school this semester, entitled "Grappling and Striking."
Right...Woodstick..I forgot to blog about this awesome event after it happened last week. Centennial, Wyoming, is a weird place. The elevation is about 150 times greater than the population. 63 folk, or something like that. And it is an awfully random mix of people...crazed mountain man looking types, stoned hippies - sporting 'Centennial camoflage' (tie-dye), sunburnt ranchhands, average construction types, and yuppie summer homers. And they all seem to get along just fine. The rednecks and yuppies, stoned hippies and drunk carpenters. And anything that happens in Centennial seems a little cooler than it would be anywhere else, maybe because of the thin air, maybe because you're right at the foot of the mountains, maybe because of the aforementioned weird people.
So every year (starting last year, I think) they have this day-long music festival in Centennial, called Woodstick. There were a few folks on the roster I thought sounded good, particularly a guy named Peter Queal and his friends, who play some real groovy, lounge-type tunes. We also found out, the day before, that Maggie Simpson would be there. Not that Maggie Simpson. And she is always awesome.
Jenn was out of town for the weekend, and Rick was back in town, so it was me, Rick, and Abbie. Abbie and I decided Rick should be the designated driver, on what specific grounds I now forget. Well..it was good times. Our friend Dan brought beers, and taught us that you can bring in beers, to this place, which is sort of an outdoor bar, as long as it's one at a time. So this we did. We bought overpriced Busch Light (it appeals to my inner 10th grader) at the (Un)Friendly Store, just down the road from the Beartree, where the concert was.
So it was mostly good. Somehow or other, during Maggie Simpson's set, I ended up sitting by Maggie's mom. She was a sweet old lady, and we talked quite a bit. I didn't talk to her dad, Pete, of political notoriety, because he was sitting on the other side. One time, when Maggie's mom and I were talking she put her arm around me and pulled me in so as to hear what I was saying, and all the folks I was with had shocked looks on their face, and then Dan said "Is she HITTING on you?" And I said, 'I think so.' It was great, drunken times. Maggie kicked ass as usual, and Peter Queal's group did some rockin' songs. The only bad part was that the last few bands were kinda lame. Dan described one of the people in one of the final bands as 'Jimmy Buffet incarnate,' and I thought..'oh, for crying out loud.' There are about 5 things worse than Jimmy Buffet in the whole world. One of those things is the Eagles. This band did covers by both.
So all in all, it was a pretty good time.
This weekend, we're going to a music festival at the foot of the Laramie Mountains, and will camp out, and may have adult beverages. It's bluegrass, so there's probably little danger of us having to sit through one more awful cover of Hotel California.
-m
NEWS..
Three news stories I can't help but comment on:
1) Why is The Beeb the only major online news source that seems to be aware of this??? How in the HELL can the Bushies say it's 'hearsay,' when there is a publicly-available video showing Goss saying exactly what Moore said he did? (Get to the video on Moore's site via the link in the story)
2) Dang. Our government works pretty fast where money or swing states are concerned.
3) Finally, a sitcom about polygamy. Bout time TV tackles the real-life issues of today.
In related news, Jen & I have proposed to Abbie, but she is taking her time in responding.
I don't have a problem with gay marriages. Or plural marriages. Marriage between people and their pets seems weird, but it doesn't really bother me, either.
-m
Three news stories I can't help but comment on:
1) Why is The Beeb the only major online news source that seems to be aware of this??? How in the HELL can the Bushies say it's 'hearsay,' when there is a publicly-available video showing Goss saying exactly what Moore said he did? (Get to the video on Moore's site via the link in the story)
2) Dang. Our government works pretty fast where money or swing states are concerned.
3) Finally, a sitcom about polygamy. Bout time TV tackles the real-life issues of today.
In related news, Jen & I have proposed to Abbie, but she is taking her time in responding.
I don't have a problem with gay marriages. Or plural marriages. Marriage between people and their pets seems weird, but it doesn't really bother me, either.
-m
BACK...KINDA..
If someone seems very certain about something, you can be sure that they're a complete idiot.
So I'm sort of done with field work now. May still do a little bit more work up there, but have basically cut it off. I should have approximately 22 sites, with 35-50 tree cores at each site. So...let's see..22 sites x 35 cores per site x ~50 (rough average age) tree rings per core..I should end up counting about 38,500 tree rings. Jeezis.
So..this is kinda funny. You need sound. And Quicktime. And a good internet connection. Will Ferrell does a great George Bush. Almost as good as Rollins' impersonation. The best part (I think) is the continuous fun-poking at Bush, the make-believe rancher ("I'll go with the giant shovel, and the little..little tiny thing.") Credit to Kabiebayo (others may know him as the other surviving member of Fairly Crass - no blog of his own (yet!) but a contributor to Staircasewit, as am I) for pointing this out.
What kind of stupid key is the 'Insert' key? I mean, how often do you want to go back to the middle of something you've typed and just start typing right over the top of it, like some kind of dumb old typewriter? Seriously, what's wrong with the backspace key?
Another thing I don't get about keyboards, is what's up with those people that always turn off the Num Lock? It's not like there isn't a whole other set of each of those keys somewhere else. Do you really need 2 places where you can hit an up arrow key, or, even worse, the Insert key?
I was thinking the other day about how I ought to explain (for the broader (and narrower) readership) who the blogs to the left belong to. Then Bennet went and did it, so now I look like a copycat...but I'ma do it anyway.
But first, a brief treatise on the proper usage of the contraction "I'ma.." I've seen this misused ALOT. It's a contraction that has been popular forever, probably, but which was formalized by StrongBad. First off, I'ma is a contraction of 3 words: I, am, and gonna. Henceforth, it is redundant to say "I'ma gonna go get some rutabagas" - instead, try "I'ma go get some rutabagas." If you say it the first way, you're basically saying "I'm gonna gonna go get some rutabagas," and that's dumb. It's like those people that say "GIS system." Well, maybe that's not an issue now, since some have decided that it is Geographic Information Science, instead of Systems.
Anyway, on to the introductions:
Staircase Wit is a multi-authored page, established by Blacklinefish, contributed to by him, myself, Rawkstah, and Kabiebayo
Rawkstah is my friend, Bennet, who once dropped a giant rock down an outhouse and hence splattered Jeremy Bishop with a poo shower. He's a screenwriter, playwrite (playwright, playright, playrite?), songwriter, and waitperson.
Blacklinefish is my undergraduate advisor and friend. He once told me that a boy becomes a man when he builds his first set of sawhorses. I guess I'm still a boy.
Abbie the Girl, is Abbie, Bonnie, Abbzug..she's one of my best pals in the world, a real person, and she cooks meat well.
Abbie The Cat is not actually my friend, but is a cat. And he has his own blog. And it makes me laugh.
Rockandporkandbeanscan is my friend Mike, from undergraduate days. I think he has forgotten about his blog. Again.
Brooke K(aye) is a friend from my days in North Dakota. We (with our other friend, Andrea) once rode our bikes around the entire loop road that goes through Theodore Roosevelt NP. Her blog features more content than most.
Jeremywhite is another friend from undergraduate days. He invented 'The People's Knuckle,' and other great wrestling moves. I think he has also forgotten about his blog.
Blacklinefish's Dog is..well..Blackline Fish's dog, Terra.
Man. This blog has been seriously lacking in content of late. Actually, it's never been very substantial in that arena. I haven't posted anything much this summer, since I've been out alot. Also, I don't feel like I really can say much, since allowing folks into the inner workings of my brain (which is sort of like a big Rube Goldberg-type contraption) would annoy some, hurt others, offend most, and bore all. Therefore, back to the stupid links and fart jokes:
Q: Why did God make farts smell?
A: So deaf people could enjoy them, too.
Stick with what got me here.
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar Pilot!
-m
If someone seems very certain about something, you can be sure that they're a complete idiot.
So I'm sort of done with field work now. May still do a little bit more work up there, but have basically cut it off. I should have approximately 22 sites, with 35-50 tree cores at each site. So...let's see..22 sites x 35 cores per site x ~50 (rough average age) tree rings per core..I should end up counting about 38,500 tree rings. Jeezis.
So..this is kinda funny. You need sound. And Quicktime. And a good internet connection. Will Ferrell does a great George Bush. Almost as good as Rollins' impersonation. The best part (I think) is the continuous fun-poking at Bush, the make-believe rancher ("I'll go with the giant shovel, and the little..little tiny thing.") Credit to Kabiebayo (others may know him as the other surviving member of Fairly Crass - no blog of his own (yet!) but a contributor to Staircasewit, as am I) for pointing this out.
What kind of stupid key is the 'Insert' key? I mean, how often do you want to go back to the middle of something you've typed and just start typing right over the top of it, like some kind of dumb old typewriter? Seriously, what's wrong with the backspace key?
Another thing I don't get about keyboards, is what's up with those people that always turn off the Num Lock? It's not like there isn't a whole other set of each of those keys somewhere else. Do you really need 2 places where you can hit an up arrow key, or, even worse, the Insert key?
I was thinking the other day about how I ought to explain (for the broader (and narrower) readership) who the blogs to the left belong to. Then Bennet went and did it, so now I look like a copycat...but I'ma do it anyway.
But first, a brief treatise on the proper usage of the contraction "I'ma.." I've seen this misused ALOT. It's a contraction that has been popular forever, probably, but which was formalized by StrongBad. First off, I'ma is a contraction of 3 words: I, am, and gonna. Henceforth, it is redundant to say "I'ma gonna go get some rutabagas" - instead, try "I'ma go get some rutabagas." If you say it the first way, you're basically saying "I'm gonna gonna go get some rutabagas," and that's dumb. It's like those people that say "GIS system." Well, maybe that's not an issue now, since some have decided that it is Geographic Information Science, instead of Systems.
Anyway, on to the introductions:
Staircase Wit is a multi-authored page, established by Blacklinefish, contributed to by him, myself, Rawkstah, and Kabiebayo
Rawkstah is my friend, Bennet, who once dropped a giant rock down an outhouse and hence splattered Jeremy Bishop with a poo shower. He's a screenwriter, playwrite (playwright, playright, playrite?), songwriter, and waitperson.
Blacklinefish is my undergraduate advisor and friend. He once told me that a boy becomes a man when he builds his first set of sawhorses. I guess I'm still a boy.
Abbie the Girl, is Abbie, Bonnie, Abbzug..she's one of my best pals in the world, a real person, and she cooks meat well.
Abbie The Cat is not actually my friend, but is a cat. And he has his own blog. And it makes me laugh.
Rockandporkandbeanscan is my friend Mike, from undergraduate days. I think he has forgotten about his blog. Again.
Brooke K(aye) is a friend from my days in North Dakota. We (with our other friend, Andrea) once rode our bikes around the entire loop road that goes through Theodore Roosevelt NP. Her blog features more content than most.
Jeremywhite is another friend from undergraduate days. He invented 'The People's Knuckle,' and other great wrestling moves. I think he has also forgotten about his blog.
Blacklinefish's Dog is..well..Blackline Fish's dog, Terra.
Man. This blog has been seriously lacking in content of late. Actually, it's never been very substantial in that arena. I haven't posted anything much this summer, since I've been out alot. Also, I don't feel like I really can say much, since allowing folks into the inner workings of my brain (which is sort of like a big Rube Goldberg-type contraption) would annoy some, hurt others, offend most, and bore all. Therefore, back to the stupid links and fart jokes:
Q: Why did God make farts smell?
A: So deaf people could enjoy them, too.
Stick with what got me here.
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar Pilot!
-m
