These two toys were purchased in quite different fashions. The wagon was bought brand new, online. The Furby was discovered while waiting in line at the Goodwill, on a half-off Saturday.
Both have been sporadic hits.
In Vegas the heat can be unbearable, so the wagon is left unused for months until the kids suddenly decide it is fun to be pulled along, bringing the it back into rotation. In this time of pandemic, it has also been the closest they will be getting to an amusement park ride.
The Furby plows through four batteries at a time and wears out its welcome for adults equally as quick. Even though the kids have always enjoyed it, it too is only played sporadically due to a lack of willingness by the big people. However, I must admit it is beyond cute to watch our toddlery mimic the quirky Furby language.
The joy of thrifting is the hunt; a joy that is unhindered by options. This Furby is covered in a grid of black, pink, and cyan triangles. Not completely horrific, but it was the only choice, so this purchase was free of angst. (In retrospect, my wife and I would have debated this $1.50 spend if we had realized how many batteries this little thing would consume.)
On the other hand, the wagon purchase has always been tinged with a bit of regret. Soon after purchasing this wagon, we saw a collapsible canvas wagon which could be easily stored, unlike this hunk of plastic. After half of decade of pulling children around in molded seats, I think the ergonomics of this Radio Flyer has proven its worth, but for a time we were certain the $70 was not optimally spent.
Even so, we have used both of these quite a bit, more than most of our other purchases. Unfortunately, it seems impossible to guess what toy will catch their fancy until you open up the wallet and bring the thing home.
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Radio Flyer Pathfinder Wagon and Furby Boom!
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Cheese Cracker, 08 August 2020
I’ve been playing around with making crackers as a healthier alternative to all the other awesome snacks that are out in the market trying to addict me to their engineered flavors.
After initial some attempts over the past couple weeks, I sat down and converted Mark Bittman’s recipe to grams. Using his numbers and experimented with a batch and I think I’ve finally come with a good ratio – 1:2:7:0.2
10g cheese
20g water
70g all purpose flour (generic target organic brand)
2g saltThe result was a nice dry dough that I could run through the pasta roller (I ran it to thinness 6 out of 8). The pasta roller saved me a ton of time over rolling by hand and resulted in consistent, even bakes in the toaster oven.
By using the pasta roller, I unintentionally recreated the “water crackers” that I used to enjoy at art openings. So as a bonus I understand the origin of their name, since I had never realized that water and cream crackers were an oppositional pair.
For further experiments, I’d like to come up with an alternate version using sourdough starter, since these crackers did come out a little flat. I’d also like to try my hand at cream crackers, using milk instead of water.
However, the biggest thing is finding simple ratio for a dough that works in the pasta roller, because I now have a good home base for future experiments.
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Drummer Hoff, Barbara and Ed Emberley, 1967
Drummer Hoff fired it off.
And so we’re introduced to the motley crew that will construct and fire the “Sultan”.
The art is stiffly whimsical in a stained glass style that is makes one nostalgic of the 60’s.
The text is rhythmical, based on a march.
The names are alliterative, each man and their rank.
The cannon is creates a big explosion, and nature returns to reclaim what’s hers.
This ending is both definitive and ambiguous.
Was it fired but once? What happened to all the characters we met?
Looking at the publication date, it foretold our hubris as we were stumbling into Vietnam.
Is it subtly subversive against the military industrial complex? Highlighting the wasted efforts of men and capital?
Or is it doubly subversive, inducing children to march to the war beat while assuaging its mildly pacifistic parents?
All we know is that the birds win in the end. But at what price?
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A Wild Sheep Chase, Haruki Murakami, 1982
Murakami makes the slightly absurd seem perfectly normal. This was already apparent from his first two novels. The great step forward in this third book is he modulates the flow of the narrative.
The first couple books created a uniform effect by being very flat. The Wild Sheep Chase stays within the general contours mood of its predecessors, but he adds dynamics to the mix. He doesn’t resort to anything extreme, but feeling undulates throughout the story. He’s now included a (restrained) climax.
Speaking of climaxes, these three novels are full of failed romances. Some that just leave you with a lingering longing, others just tragic. The girl with four fingers, the twins, and the girl with ears. The french major, the cafe girl, the ex-wife.It’s odd to think that Mr. Murakami married young and has been happily married this entire time. His writing is so personal, it makes you think he himself is the protagonist. However this factoid of his biography reminds you of the fundamental disconnect between the author and the reader.
You might feel a closeness to the writer, but it’s just an artifice. It’s a novel…it’s all artifice! Murakami’s gift is making all that wacky ass shit seem perfectly normal.
And yet (like a sheep that infects your soul) it’s so true, it can’t be unreal. -
Bread, 28 July 2020
After trying a really high hydration bread that went well enough but not spectacularly, I came back to my standard 75 hydration. I wanted to use up some oil/water from a jar of marinated artichokes and some cheap flour that my father-in-law bought.
350g all purpose flour (Gold Medal)
50g buckwheat flour
100g starter
225g water
75g marinated artichoke waterThe dough was a bit slow in rising, so I took it outside, and it quickly exploded such that I was on the verge of overproofing it. Then I overbaked it, which is why it came out a bit dark.
I pulled it out of the oven at 10pm. Just in time for a late snack – a couple slices with butter, and one more with olive oil and salt.
Even with the cheap flour and the mismanaged process, it was an amazing tasting loaf fresh out of the oven.
I know that my lackadaisical approach may be resulting in a ceiling to limit how great my bread might become, however the floor for these loaves are so high that I’ll take the tradeoff. This was not a spectacular loaf, but these three slices were better than anything I’ve ever bought from a store.
Baking bread can be an adventure, you just have to be ready to enjoy the journey.
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Assorted Balls, soft
Over the past few months, my daughter has really gotten into reading Peanuts. Charlie Brown’s escapades on the pitcher’s mound dovetailed nicely with the the Nerf ball and bat we gave her last Christmas and the fact we’ve been trapped at home during the pandemic.
We gathered all the soft balls in the house and started using it for batting practice in the backyard.
Starting from the bottom corner:
- Orange ball, foam. This is the Nerf ball that came with the bat. She has decided this is her favorite ball of them all.
- Blue and green globe, squishy. A stress-ball with a NV Health Link logo, so I believe it we must have picked it up during some sort of local fair in the last few years when the ACA was being rolled out.
- Blue ball, squishy. This ancient stress-ball has a smiley face on it. We have no idea where it came from.
- Tennis ball, fuzzy. My in-laws had a couple ancient tennis balls in their garage when we moved to Vegas seven years ago. This thing might be old enough to drink.
- Orange ball, dimpled. We bought our boy a set of rubber balls when he started teething a couple years ago.
- Lime ball, striated. This is part of that rubber ball set. It feels a little hard inside the house, but it softens up quite a bit when you go outside on a warm day.
- Hacky sack, red. We picked this up at Kappa Toys, while waiting to join the Women’s March in January, 2017. Last year, I met the owner of the store, when we were putting our house up for rent. She and her husband were very nice
- Yellow Ball, corona-y. Part of the rubber ball set. We thought he might like to chew on these toys, but no, he only enjoyed putting contraband into his mouth.
- Sucker Ball, fluorescent. I picked this up off the side of the road along with a weighted jump rope. It works, we’ve had a ridiculous amount of fun throwing it at our dresser, and our closet doors (which are mirrors)
- Magenta Ball, dimpled. I’m running out of things to say about this rubber ball set.
- Red ball, dimpled. There is a sixth ball in the rubber ball set, but we have no idea where it’s been lost. I think it was light blue.
- Purple ball, bouncy. We were given this up at a Microsoft Surface event where our daughter made a little video. It has has a cloth cover but has a bit of bounce to it with some dense rubbery filler.
- Stress ball, baseball-y. This ball has logos of the College of Southern Nevada and the 51’s (a local minor league team now named the Aviators).
- O-ball, holey. When our daughter was a toddler, I wanted something to play catch with her. There was an option with rattles, but we chose the simple version. The rainbow colors make for a cool photo when thrown in the air.
- Container, translucent white. This came home with our boy from the hospital. If I remember correctly, he got his first bath in this tub, which is almost inconceivable two years later.
- Shopping Cart, Minnie. This was another roadside pickup, in downtown Las Vegas. It was on the way to the house, as I was doing some last fixes before putting it up to rent.
- Pavers, CMU. My in-laws decided to pave over a significant portion of their backyard which had been covered with river rocks. I disagreed with the idea and still think it was a horrifically ugly mistake. However, it has dramatically increased the amount of playable surface area for the kids, and during this time of COIVD, it has become a walking track for my father-in-law since they are hesitant to even leave the property. It’s a good reminder to take one’s own advice too seriously.
- Orange ball, foam. This is the Nerf ball that came with the bat. She has decided this is her favorite ball of them all.
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WordPress, 2003-Present and Stacey-2009-2020
By the end of the 2000’s, it had become clear that the web is an ephemeral place. I was spending a lot of time on Boardgamegeek, and I didn’t want my sporadic deep thoughts to suddenly disappear due to someone else’s bad business decisions.
I had also gotten into reading webcomics and thought I’d try to make some myself. I didn’t have delusions of grandeur, but it seemed like a worthy hobby.
And it was just time. The web had been in our world for just over a decade and I wanted my own little niche on this place (the short lived geocities site didn’t count).
So I started this blog.
It was going to be a odd-concept web comic, pairing random drawings and poetry. I hoped this project would force me to draw more and finally get a grasp on poetry. That endeavor didn’t last long.
But now I had my own little foothold on the internet.
Along with this WordPress blog, I also created an online portfolio using Stacey, a light content management system with a simple clean look.
My first job after graduate school was for a small firm. It was a great experience but was not a career position. Even though an online portfolio is not required for architects, I thought it would be helpful as a calling card when I started the next job search. I didn’t need anything fancy, just a simple stable place to highlight some past work for prospective employers.
Stacey was easy to set up, but it wasn’t completely intuitive. So I needed to re-figure out the system every couple years that I wanted to update the portfolio. Meanwhile WordPress continued to upgrade and make itself easier to use. My sporadic forays into learning css became unnecessary as WordPress themes got better and more responsive.
Last year, my Stacey portfolio started to glitch. Recent PHP upgrades were creating error messages in the header of the portfolio site. It was still operational, but the end was in sight.
Last month, my daughter was taking an online art class and wanted to share her work, so I gave her a blog on her own subdomain. In setting up her blog, I upgraded all my subdomains to PHP 7.3.
This finally nerfed the old portfolio.
So I migrated the portfolio, and now I have three WordPress installations under my care. WordPress isn’t idiot proof and takes a little effort to maintain, but it’s free and hosting is cheap. Hard to complain about a product that costs nothing, has enough momentum to keep updating, and isn’t completely under the thumb of some mega-corporation.
But before I fully settle into this new WordPress-centric reality, I want to thank Mr. Kolber for his little portfolio. I’m not sure if anyone checked out my site, but the presence of my online portfolio made me feel more confident whenever I went out on the hunt.
Stacey made me look good on the world wide web for more than a decade.
Le roi est mort, vive le roi!
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Sunchips, 1991-present & Popchips, 2007-present
In a recent Costco purchase, we got boxes of sunchips and popchips packaged into little snack bags.
Both of these products fall into the category of crispy premasticated snack. This fine lineage starts with the the old mexican tortilla chip, leading to Pringles, and then to these fellows.
The texture of Sunchips harkens to the tortilla, with a whole-grain texture to signal their (questionable) healthiness. Meanwhile, Popchips follow in the footsteps of Pringles, reveling in their artificiality in their pockmarked crunchy puffed texture.
The corrugated square pattern of the Sunchips reminds one of an old country shack with metal siding. The perfect circles in Popchips stand as a platonic ideal.
The flavors of the Sunchips are your classic “french onion” and “salsa”, while Popchips hit ya’ with bold flavors like “buffalo ranch sauce”.
Ultimately, I imagine one would be better served slicing up a couple potatoes on a mandolin, coating them in olive oil and salt in a stainless steel bowl, and then blasting the chips in the air fryer.
Such an process feels more natural than these two modern offerings, but only by degree.
At least you don’t waste a little plastic bag each time.
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ME minus 19
A few mornings ago, I weighed myself found myself at 155.2, exactly 19 pounds lower than my recorded high of 174.2 from November 8, 2019. My highest weight was almost certainly during the holiday season, but I had stopped recording my weight over that time.
My standard weight during my twenties and early thirties had hovered around 155, climbing into the 160’s with extended forays into the 170’s over the last couple years. Over the past half year I worked my way back down to 155 is due to the simple principle of “a little more exercise and a little less calories over a long period of time”, both greatly aided by the pandemic shut down.
Exercise is the easiest to explain. Working from home saves me an hour of commute every day. Twenty of those minutes were purposely turned into a walk. The other forty minutes have been spent chasing the children around. Playing with kids and a leisurely walk (my pace hovers around a 23 minute mile) is not much, but still a massive improvement over operating a vehicle and an otherwise sedentary life.
As for calories, the change was facilitated by cutting out restaurants beginning in late January and an improvement in snack options after we stopped leaving the house. We live with my in-laws, whose age makes us a high risk household so we’ve been particularly withdrawn from society after the pandemic spread to America.
I’m an inveterate snacks, which hasn’t changed, but staying at home has morphed my goodies into nuts and fruit. I suspect it is due the psychology of online purchase instead of shopping in person. It was no big deal to pick up a bag of chips at the supermarket, but it feels very different to make the same decision via your web browser, especially knowing that everything will have to go through a decontamination process after its delivered. Just this little extra friction has made a big difference … and missing out on four months of donuts at the office.
As for cutting out restaurants, there were three types of benefits — less food, healthier courses, and lighter ingredients.
In normal times, I’ll eat out about five times a week. Even though I won’t gratuitously stuff myself, I am a dude who clears the plate. If a restaurant gives me a significant overage, I get a doggy bag, but it feels odd to ask for a container for one last bite. At home, minimal leftovers are split between multiple people or becoming an appetizer for the next meal. At work, every little extra was ending up in my gut.
Helping the quantity improvements is are the reduced options for high calorie dishes when you’re making it yourself. We just made hamburgers for the first time in a week ago. I’ve had one can of sweetened soda once this entire lock down. I love fried food, but like snacks, I’m not addicted enough to deep fry my own fare. So I haven’t eaten french fries in four months.
Finally, each of our meals are just inherently more healthy. To satisfy their patrons, a restaurant needs to hedge their flavor with salt and fat. I’ll do the same when I’m cooking, but I am also much more cognizant of the long term consequences to me when I add each “extra”. Also, due to news of meat shortages, we ate way less meat during the first couple months for a couple months. I don’t have a stance in the carbs versus proteins debate, but we substituted the decreased proteins with increased vegetables instead of starches, which I presume it was an absolute win all around.In all, I’m pretty pleased that I’ve been able to get back into my size 32 pants. Assuming that I lost these 19 pounds since the end of January, that calculates to just two ounces a day, which seems to be a pretty moderate pace.
Hopefully this new lifestyle will stay steady when things start to crawl back to normal.
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Pinball, 1973, Haruki Murakami, 1980
I made two mistakes in reading this book. I read the blurb in the back which colored my expectations of what was to come, and then I read a couple reviews which tinted my perception of what I just read.
Normally that’s not a big deal, but I don’t think either those are good dynamics when I’m going to publish my own book report. However, lesson learned, so here are a few thoughts of that may be more or less original.
Pinball, 1973 and Hear the Wind Sing are ultimately forgettable novels. After completing this one, I’m quite certain I’ve read these two books in the past. I just can’t remember when or where.
That sounds like an vicious indictment, but I don’t mean it that way. reading Murakami is like floating down a lazy river on a moderately warm afternoon.
In that goal he succeeds thoroughly, even for his freshman and sophomore attempts. By the time you’ve completed each book you feel as if you are the protagonist who just recounted a tale from your own distant past, hazy muted memories of an incredibly strange and ordinary event.
However, I understand why Murakami was hesitant to re-publish these books in English. I would not recommend this pair as an introduction to his works, but I am grateful that he allowed them to be issued again. Everything that is special about his later works is embedded in these stories, just not as much.
I also see why these two novellas were published combined in a single volume. I don’t think Pinball, 1973 would make any sense on its own. It relies so heavily on the first book that I would say it this second novel is an extended coda. The two boys in the first book have moved on to their separate lives, and their stories are entwined only because of what you learned in the first book.
Beyond such dry analysis, it is worth mentioning that this book still tinkles the little bells buried in the depths of your soul. However it will resonate differently depending upon your age.
Murakami wrote this work in his early thirties, dead center between my college years and my current comfortable government life in the burbs. Twenty years ago, I would have identified strongly (too strongly) with the protagonists as they were navigating the moment. Now, I sit with the narrator as he relives his memories of a bittersweet past.