Bring Out Your Hummingbird Feeders!

Tiny little hummingbirds have arrived in the Kansas City area, and they want your sugar-water!

Last year, we had quite a few of the zippy little things. They would chirp past my head when I sat near their feeder to read or converse at our umbrella table.

To feed them, just use 1 part sugar to 4 parts water, and put it in a hummingbird feeder. You don't need the expensive powders they sell in stores, and you certainly don't need food coloring, which can be bad for the little guys. My feeder has little perches so they can relax a second while sipping nectar, but they'll visit any feeder with a red attractor. I have a small test tube on one of our windows with a fed cap on it with a hole in it, and they visit that one, too.

For those keeping track, here's a map of when the first sightings of ruby-throated hummingbirds were turned in throughout the country, from Hummingbirds.net.

Susan Wiegand - Kansas City's Most Enchanting Personality?

Several years ago, my wife and I attended a fundraiser for some cause at the home of Scott and Rhonda Burnett. Scott and Rhonda are wonderful hosts - warm and fascinating people with great stories to tell, but also interested in the stories their guests have to share. And they tend to invite diverse, outgoing and interesting guests, so an evening at the Burnett's house is always an opportunity to expand your universe of luminescent people.

On the Burnetts' porch, we met a tall, graceful woman with a vivacious smile and dramatic but comfortable flair. She told us of her book - Cooking as Courtship, which she described as less of a cookbook than an approach to food. A couple weeks later, I ran into her at a breakfast spot, and she was kind enough to sell me a copy of her charming book. (Some friend has since borrowed this book and adopted it, so I need to buy a new copy. I don't resent my friend's adoption - I hope whoever it was is enjoying it.)

Since then, I have visited her converted fire house on Troost - a reclaimed building converted into space for her comfort clothing - Ideal Garment and Scientific Panty. I have discovered her book online, and I have discovered her blog. Go read this post on "The Stories We Tell Ourselves" and you'll get a taste of her thoughtful but relaxed approach toward life and living. Or try "Dressing the Part, 2" - here's the first paragraph:

We dress the part. We just do. We dress the way we think others will expect us to dress for the particular role we are playing at any particular moment. We dress the way we think a professional whatever dresses. We dress to look bohemian, or suburban, or to appear to be part of the elite, which is a very complex dress code, indeed, whichever elite you are thinking of. It is no easier to infiltrate the costume conventions of the upper east side, than it is to fool the second grade junta, or the trailer park high-trash. Cool is still cool, and you probably aren't, and you probably are going to try to dress in some way that will suggest you are. Or might be.

Some Saturday, when you're lounging around the house, feeling kind of blah and uninspired, head on down to the Firehouse at 4518 Troost. You don't have to buy anything, though you may want to. But you can't buy the sense of alertness to the beauty and charm of the world - she gives that away.

Missouri Historical Review - Hilary Bush, and the Best Bargain in Missouri

Did you know that Missouri's Lieutenant Governor from 1961-1965 was a man named Hilary Bush? Just a little tidbit gleaned from my weekend reading.

Late this week, I received my copy of the latest edition of the Missouri Historical Review, a journal published quarterly and mailed out for free to the members of the State Historical Society of Missouri. It includes a fascinating article about Tom Eagleton's first Senate Campaign - a political drama played out amidst the Humphrey v. Nixon election of 1968. It also includes a great analysis of a drawing of "Persephone's Shade Tree" by Thomas Hart Benton, a drawing which served as a study for the best painting ever painted by a Missourian.

I love the Missouri Historical Review. I've loved it since I was in late grade school, and first read the well-illustrated, detailed articles that struck the exact balance I sought between interesting yarns and academic history. It's serious stuff, with long, detailed articles about diverse topics such as Branch Rickey (the inventor of the "farm system" for Major League Baseball), civla war battles and a resort town that flourished and disappeared near Warrensburg, but it is always readable and accessible.

Amazingly, annual membership in the State Historical Society of Missouri is only $20, and it includes the Missouri Historical Review.

I've spent $20 on a lot of things that have brought me less pleasure than the Missouri Historical Review.

Revenge of the Nerds

I admire people who pursue their passions, and I enjoy reading about people who are "into" whatever fascinates them. "Diversity" should be not only a societal goal, but a personal one. The most interesting and well-adjusted people are those who don't subconsciously sacrifice their personal interests on the altar of being "normal". I'm wildly proud of my wife for picking up a guitar in her forties, and now being able to strum out songs I recognize. I admire the space nerds who show up at the blogger meet-ups. As the bumper sticker says, why be normal?

But the thought of the Lee's Summit High School Wargames Club earning letters (as was casually mentioned at Beneath the Ginko) pushes the concept of societal acceptance a bit too far. Next thing you know, they're going to want to date cheerleaders . . .

Obligatory Irish Joke . . .

From a contributor:

A month ago, I found a story in the paper noting that a man in Scotland dug down 10 ft. and discovered copper wire. This, he declared, was proof that Scotland had a telecommunications network established over 100 years ago.

Two weeks later, a story appeared in the paper about a man in England digging down 20 ft. and discovering copper wire. This, he declared, was proof that England had a telecommunications network established over 200 years ago.

Just this morning, an article appeared in the paper proclaiming that an Irishman had dug down 30 ft. and discovered absolutely nothing.
This, he declared, was proof that Ireland hand already gone wireless over 300 years ago.

This Must Be Handy for Him

Was Mary Ann the Pusher on Gilligan's Island?

Mary Ann, the sweet, innocent farm girl of my adolescent dreams, was caught with pot a couple weeks ago. Back in 1998, she was rumored to be Bob Denver's supplier when he got busted.

First Annual Gone Mild Oscar Picks Contest Winner Announced - SEAN R.

It took me an extra day to calculate the winner of the First Annual Gone Mild Oscar Picks Contest because I had a surprisingly large number of submissions, and my technology let me down, so I had to score them all by hand. It was kind of interesting to see where the common mistakes were, though - Transformers and Cate Blanchett are a lot more popular in this corner of the blogosphere than they were at the Academy.

Regardless of all that, the winner, with 17 correct answers, was Sean R., whose last name I will happily publish if he emails me and lets me know whether he wants the full measure of internet adulation. Sean, I also need your Swiss bank account number so I can start sending you 50% of this site's profits for the coming year.

In what I think was an amusing sidenote, my quip about the supposed post-credit scene in No Country for Old Men took on a bit of a life of its own. I received more calls and emails wanting to know about that "scene" than I have ever received on any topic I've written about. While I flirted with either completing the joke by encouraging people to go see the movie again, or by writing my own version of the showdown between Ed Tom Bell and Anton Chigurh, instead I just felt guilty about the stress I caused my favorite librarian. Now, I'll never get any slack on my late fees.

No Country For Old Men

Just saw No Country for Old Men at Screenland. Watching a great movie in a recliner on a huge screen - what could be finer?

My only criticism of the movie is that it was odd how they didn't show the final showdown between the sheriff and the bad guy until after all the credits had run. That was bizarre - most of the audience had left, and missed the most shocking scene I have ever seen on film.

(UPDATE: The final showdown after the credits was my bad idea of a joke! No such scene - just kidding! Apparently, I caused some stress to a few movie-viewers - I'm sorry!)

Science Fair Time

Here, for your amusement, are 41 science fair entries.

Science Fair used to be a big deal in this household. Its absence from our lives is certainly one of the benefits of an empty nest . . .

The Definitive Oscar Picks & Contest

Quick, before you read the following picks, go here and enter the First Annual Gone Mild Oscar Picks Contest. It costs nothing to enter, and the winner will get a 50/50 split of my profits on this website for the coming year. The entry is a simple click-box format, and you can get a copy of your picks emailed to you, so it's a pretty simple way to make and memorialize your 2008 Oscar picks. I'll keep your selections confidential, if you prefer.

Now, these are the ones that will actually win:

Best Picture: Michael Clayton
Best Director: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
Best Actor: Daniel Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood
Best Actress: Ellen Page in Juno
Best Supporting Actor: Philip Seymour Hoffman in Charlie Wilson's War
Best Supporting Actress: Ruby Dee in American Gangster
Best Original Screenplay: Juno
Best Adapted Screenplay: No Country for Old Men
Cinematography: There Will Be Blood
Film Editing: There Will Be Blood
Art Direction: Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
Costume Design: Across the Universe
Original Score: The Kite Runner
Original Song: "Falling Slowly" -- Once
Best Makeup: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
Sound Editing: Ratatouille
Sound Mixing: No Country for Old Men
Best Visual Effects: The Golden Compass
Best Animated Feature Film: Ratatouille
Best Foreign Language Film: The Counterfeiters -- Austria
Best Documentary Feature: Sicko
Best Documentary Short: Sari's Mother
Best Live Action Short: Tanghi Argentini
Best Animated Short: Peter & the Wolf

They are also going to have a special award for "Most Hilariously Awful Stereotypical French Movie Scene and Best Reason to Hate Foreign Films", which will be given to "La Vie En Rose" for the scene in which the little girl and the prostitute lock themselves in a room and cry while they have lipstick smiles painted on their faces.

Sick at Home - Day 5

It's worse than I've been letting on. I fear I have the dreaded man cold . . .

Sick at Home

I do my best not to be too much of a whiner. Except when I'm sick - I crumble like a house of cards when my temperature "soars" above 98.8. My real symptoms are dwarfed by the imagined aches and pains and headaches. I'm pretty certain that my fever is being reported in Celsius, and that I'm really in danger of igniting. I don't get sick often, but, oh, when I do, it's a medical spectacle.

Today, I'm on my death bed at home. Unbelievably, my wife went to work, leaving me to perish alone. She hasn't even called for a home nurse, and I was forced to struggle through the complicated task of microwaving my own lunch. (Chicken soup, of course.)

This may be my final blog post. I just took my temperature (as I have approximately ever 20 minutes since waking up) and it is now in triple digits. Yes, 100.0. It's unlikely that I will survive - I wish you all well. Would 6 very strong people please volunteer to be my pallbearers? It's not going to be an easy job . . .

My Contribution to the Meme Pool

Memes have been all the rage in the local blogosphere lately. Seems I can't open Google Reader without learning 7 quirks about someone, or what the 123rd page of their nearest book says. Since Friday is a particularly meme-focused day for many bloggers, I thought I'd go ahead and make a contribution for tomorrow. So, limber up your typing fingers and get ready to participate!

(Some might remember that I have groused about memes being narcissistic and silly. What a grumpy grizzly bear I was! I've rethought things, and I hope you'll all welcome me back to the blog/meme community by answering this fun little set of questions!) Here goes:

1. Have you ever had a different favorite color than the one you have now? Why did you change?

2. What was the name of your first pet? What was it?

3. Do you keep a key outside your house for emergencies? Where do you keep it?

4. What's your best Christmas memory ever?

5. What's the most valuable item in your house? Where do you keep it?

6. Have you ever been to Hawaii? Do you have any out-of-town trips planned in the near future?

7. What's your most awful secret, the one you would pay thousands of dollars to prevent being told to your friends, relatives and neighbors?

8. Do you have any pets now? What command word do you use to make them lay down?

9. What's your home address?

10. Isn't this fun?

11. Have you ever made love with a "little person"?

12. How geeky are you? Have you ever tried online banking? At what bank? What password and account number did you use?

13. Who is your favorite Disney character?

14. What was the theme to your high school prom? Who did you take?

15. Now tag 5 of your closest and wealthiest friends!! And no fair just tagging "whoever wants to do it"! Make sure they do this one, even if you have to call them up and nag them. Email their responses to me at dan@gonemild.com!

Thanks for playing, everyone! This is going to be great!

"That's like putting your whole mouth right in the dip! From now on, when you take a chip - just take one dip and end it!"

It turns out that Timmy was right - double-dipping spreads germs, according to real scientists.

Milne's Birthday

Today is A.A. Milne's birthday (1882), the creator of Winnie the Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood. How do you measure the influence of someone like Milne? Here are a few of my favorite quotations from him . . ,

“If the person you are talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. It may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear.”

“You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. I'll always be with you.”

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”

“"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way."”

“"Well," said Pooh, "what I like best -- " and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.”

Charlie Bit Me!

Just for grins - 'tis the season to be jolly after all . . .



And another baby appreciates the humor of golf . . .

More Than I Need

The day before yesterday, I had more stuff than I thought I needed, and today it's the same, though more so. Into the wall of my material satisfaction, though, those who love me stuffed the spackle of gifts into cracks I didn't know I had. New slippers to replace a torn and stained pair. A beer mug selected for me in the land of the Magyars, and brought to me by a daughter who has grown subtly and vastly since she left our home. Books carefully chosen to reflect an enduring commonality with a son who is growing up and away. A saltine-sized piece of miracle from my wife that will liven my days with music. Wine from friends to warm celebrations and meals.

I hope you each had a wonderful Holiday Season, whether it was centered on Christmas or Hanukkah or a different Holiday or no Holiday at all.

The only thing further I could hope for is something to write about tomorrow. That would be nice.

Hobbies

My friend over at Beneath the Ginko has been writing lovingly about his hobby - painting miniature figurines. To me, the hobby holds little to no interest, but it's kind of fun to read about because his enthusiasm rings through.

Every now and then, when I'm stuck making small talk with someone, I'll ask if they have any hobbies. Invariably, they need to think a moment before answering, which is completely understandable, because most hobbyists don't think of what they do as a hobby. "Hobby" somehow sounds like a distraction - an amusement to fill time. A "hobby" sounds frivolous - but, for a real hobbyist, a hobby is a part of who they are. A few months ago, after spending an evening fishing, I wrote:

fishing, for me, has the three attributes of what I consider a "true" hobby - something that requires complete concentration, an unattainable level of skill, and doesn't really matter.

All three are crucial. Complete concentration takes you away from everything else. Work, home, people, issues, everything melts away until you're there, in the moment, just a guy working a fly rod. The skill level required needs to be beyond you - partially to assist with the complete concentration part, but also to keep you working toward something near perfection. I wish I could say this in smaller, more modest language, but it's a way of brushing up against that other dimension, be it God, infinity, or some unifying force, that stirs and quietly thrills a part of me that can't be dormant.

Finally, it can't really matter in the day-to-day sense. It has to be pure - something done for its own sake. Most of what we do is, in some way, about impacting the world. Our work, our politics, our conversations, our philanthropy - they're all a way of asserting our presence in the world - remaking the world in some small way to better accommodate us. But a pure hobby does not really impact the world in such a manner. It places you "in" the world, instead of somehow with or against it.

What shocks me, though, is that some people, if you ask them their hobby, will assure you that they don't have one. "I'm too busy for a hobby," they assert.

I hope those people really do have a hobby, but they either don't realize it or they are too embarrassed to admit it. Perhaps they cannot associate the trivial word "hobby" with their passion for studying, collecting and displaying arrowheads. Perhaps that person spends hours whittling intricate sculptures out of ivory soap, but doesn't want to share such a deep passion with me, a virtual stranger. Perhaps, as a philatelist, s/he does not want to face the indignity of listening to me claim "Yeah, I used to collect stamps when I was a kid. I had a banana shaped stamp from Tonga! Do you have one of those?"

I look at myself, and I have lots of hobbies, at various stages of activity. (Blogging doesn't count, since it doesn't fit my definition of a hobby very well.) Some of my hobbies have been dormant for years, but I still feel close to them, and fully expect to dive back into them at some stage of my life that offers more leisure. Here's a list that comes to mind quickly: golf (I'm a terrible golfer, but I have fun), watercolor painting, philately (pre-1945 US and Germany, with an emphasis in postal stationery, covers, and postal history), homebrewing, cooking, reading fiction, writing, and learning about jazz.

I'm curious about what other hobbies are represented out there. Commenters, what hobbies enrich your life?

What's a 9 letter word for "frustration"?

On this date in 1913, the New York World published the first crossword puzzle.

What I Want for Christmas

Though my backyard might not be deep enough to avoid blotches on the neighbor's house.

Foul Weather Fans?

The Star today has several articles, including a teaser on the front page, about fans who continue to support the Chiefs despite their awful play this year. It's encouraging to see the Star do some hard-core investigative reporting in locating a few fans to interview - by the end of the game yesterday, Chiefs fans were as scarce at Arrowhead as college graduates at a NASCAR race.

Let's just get over the "shock" at the idea that Kansas Citians might be "fair weather fans". The derision tied to the term "fair weather fan" is nothing more than the greatest marketing concept ever developed by sports team owners. Why should anyone feel even a tiny bit sheepish about supporting a team when it's up, or abandoning a team when it's down?

Imagine if restaurant owners could achieve the same marketing mindset. "Sure, your waitress brought you rancid meat the last several times you visited, but if you don't show up next week, you're just a fair weather fan." And food columnists would question whether Kansas City really deserves good restaurants if we don't eat awful food. Other cities would brag about keeping terrible restaurants open for years, taking civic pride in their numbers of food poisoning deaths.

It is not a sign of civic softness that Arrowhead was a ghost town by the end of yesterday's miserable performance. It was a sign that the Chiefs offered up a completely unacceptable entertainment entree. Both teams were bad, and one - our home team - was awful. The real question was not "Where did the fans go?" but, instead, "What kind of freaking idiots came out here in freezing weather to watch this crap?"

Symbolism Run Amock

Chiefs fans get free prostate cancer screenings tomorrow.

Next Blogger Group Activity?

I want to play this at the nearest library. Think it would get me kicked out?

Failure, Kind of

Back in October, I brashly claimed "I Can Do This" and set out to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November, as part of NaNoWriMo.

It's now December, and I have about 10,000 words.

Despite the apparent failure, I've got 4 good characters, a setting, a plot, and a start. I'm going to finish it. But not in November.

Blogger Shift at Harvester's - We're Counting on You!

I spoke with the people at Harvester's yesterday, and they're looking forward to working our sedentary bodies hard. I told them they will be seeing, among a couple other helpers:

Xavier Onassis (will Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis be joining us?)

Spyder (will hubby be joining us?)

Janet (& Keith?)

M Toast

Moody Foodie (and freakishly strong son)

KC Food Guy

Eric and Michelle

Filegirl

Average Jane

Right now, counting the anonymous guests, I'm thinking we have about 15 or so, and we could really use 20. Who else is in? I promise beer, brats and good company after the shift!

If I didn't list you, email me (please) at dan@gonemild.com to let me know you're in!

This will be a great way to kick off December, helping a great cause and having fun.

Kids over 6 are welcome. Wear close-toed shoes for safety and layers of clothing for warehouse comfort!

OH, AND BRING CANNED GOODS IF YOU CAN!!

The Only Fun Thing About a Chiefs Loss

I enjoy the Chiefs, and it bothers me when they do something awful like lose to the Raiders.

That said, at some point it gets downright funny to hear Lenny Dawson get all whiny and sarcastic and petulant. His annoyance and pissiness brings its own schadenfreude, such that I half look forward to the missed blocks, dropped passes and coaching blunders, so I can hear him stew in his impotent exasperation.

LSU Loses. KU #1 for 30 hours!

I like KU fans. I'm married to one (well, she's more of a graduate than a fan).

That's why I hope from the bottom of my heart that they enjoy their brief moment atop the NCAA Football Universe.

This Could be Me

This is an old audio clip of a prank played on a young woman by someone posing as mechanic. When getting my headlight fluid topped off, should I go with the halogen or stick with the regular?

Comparing Apples to . . . Apples

Honestly, a good apple matters more to me than what opinions some other bloggers have about my opinions. A bitter-skinned, mealy Red Delicious apple is nothing but an attractive disappointment.

The best apple for eating out of hand is the Honeycrisp. Sweet, juicy, and cracking-crisp, it is THE BEST apple I've ever had from a grocery store (nothing beats a sun-warmed McIntosh off a tree). This is the first year I've noticed them, so, if you're keeping the doctor away an apple a day, I highly recommend giving them a try.

Blogger Halloween Party

Some of the local bloggers are going to get together on Friday, October 26th for a Halloween party. I'll be bringing some home-brewed beer, File Girl will be bringing some jello shots, and a good time is as predictable as Tony complaining about Funkhouser - absolutely certain. If you want an invitation, email me. Les, Travelingal?

Play the Music, Not the Audience

Went to see Wilco last night at the Crossroads. Fantastic show - great opening act, lively crowd, gorgeous evening, cool venue, and even a fireworks display. Awesome, and a hell of a lot cheaper than the old man who entertained the bigwigs at the Sprint Center.

But, while we're on the topic of fireworks, I resent it when bands do bogus encores. An encore is supposed to be an extra segment of performance inspired by the spirit of the evening - not a scheduled, routine opportunity to extort extended applause and reduce the audience to beggars.

Wilco walked off the stage for the first time after barely an hour of music. Just to make sure we didn't all just chalk it up to a lazy band, a roadie went out on the stage and gestured for more noise.

After a few more well-rehearsed, tightly performed songs, Wilco abandoned the stage again, and again the roadie/cheerleader came out to make us beg for the performance we had paid for. After a few minutes of the charade, out came the band again, for a few more well-rehearsed, tightly performed songs. Only this time, they set off fireworks at the end!

So, am I supposed to believe that they had set up an entire fireworks show, with grand finale, but they weren't going to set if off if the audience members hadn't inspired them with its enthusiasm? Around the time that we were treated to the rockets' red glare, I realized the show was about as spontaneous as a symphony.

The show was great - the band was on - the performances were snappy and professional. I'm glad I went, and it was probably the best concert I've seen in years. But don't play me for a fool with faux encores anymore, okay?

Fortune Cookie Makers Taking Themselves Too Seriously

Kind of like bloggers, fortune cookie makers can lose their charm and become annoying when they start taking themselves too seriously and try to be more influential than they really are.

“Today is a disastrous day. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” reads one fortune showing up around the country.

“It’s over your head now. Time to get some professional help,” advises another.

As the messages, contained in cookies made by Wonton Food in Queens, have spread across the country, some diners have registered their reactions online. As a result, the company has a marketing challenge on its hands.
. . .
“We wanted our fortune cookies to be a little bit more value-added,” Mr. Chow said.

Believe it or not, the entire article about fortune cookie messages doesn't even mention that you're supposed to add "in bed" to the end of most fortunes - which is why I still have "Your ability is appreciated" and "Do something unusual tomorrow" posted on my bulletin board.

I Can Do This . . .

50,000 words of fiction in November. A short novel.

November will be National Novel Writing Month. I'm going to do it. Want to join in? We could nag each other . . .

Don't worry - I promise not to post any of it here.

It might slow down my bickering with some of the people who leave comments, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

Away from it all

THE World is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours . . .

Wednesday was a good day, but sometimes the best time to address insanity is before it starts. So, in the late afternoon, I quietly exited my office, merged into the already-heavy traffic on 71, and headed out to James A. Reed Memorial Wildlife Area.

Once there, I put on some hip waders, rigged up my fly rod with a popper, and practiced my fly casting on Bodarc Pond. It was a nourishing way to spend the end of the day.

Walking around the pond, catching and releasing dozens of small fish, was stress-free fun. I don't rely on fishing for my meals, and I am not seeking a trophy for my wall, so fishing, for me, has the three attributes of what I consider a "true" hobby - something that requires complete concentration, an unattainable level of skill, and doesn't really matter.

All three are crucial. Complete concentration takes you away from everything else. Work, home, people, issues, everything melts away until you're there, in the moment, just a guy working a fly rod. The skill level required needs to be beyond you - partially to assist with the complete concentration part, but also to keep you working toward something near perfection. I wish I could say this in smaller, more modest language, but it's a way of brushing up against that other dimension, be it God, infinity, or some unifying force, that stirs and quietly thrills a part of me that can't be dormant.

Finally, it can't really matter in the day-to-day sense. It has to be pure - something done for its own sake. Most of what we do is, in some way, about impacting the world. Our work, our politics, our conversations, our philanthropy - they're all a way of asserting our presence in the world - remaking the world in some small way to better accommodate us. But a pure hobby does not really impact the world in such a manner. It places you "in" the world, instead of somehow with or against it.

When I arrived, the shadows were already getting long, and the contrast of the sun and the shadow on the trees was beautiful, and heightened by the reflections on the smooth pond. It's not yet fully autumn, but some of the green of the trees is fading into yellow and orange, and the sky was a powder blue with just a little haze to soften it.

The sunset Wednesday night was not a flashy, spectacular show. Instead, it was a fading of the light into rose and orange. By the end of the evening, I had the pond all to myself, except for the buzzards roosting in a bare tree over my shoulder. At the end, when I could scarcely see the rise of the fish to take my lure, I didn't want it to stop. I could hear birds and animals calling and rustling in the woods. A woman and her horse passed in the distance.

I love my daily world. My wife is the love of my life. My work is meaningful and challenging. I'm blessed with friends, a nice home, and decent health. My children are loving and wonderful.

Despite all that, a few hours apent on a pond in the suburbs takes me away from all that is pleasant and unpleasant in my daily world. It removes me from my daily world, and offers me a glimpse of something else - something that is always there, but all too easily ignored.

Boonville Overnight at the Hotel Frederick

Through a series of odd circumstances, I wound up visiting Boonville Friday evening, spending the night at the historic Hotel Frederick. The Hotel Frederick is right on the Katy Trail, and is the last Boonville building before you reach the river on Main Street.

Despite the historical nature of the place, the rooms had some contemporary flourishes. Like the flat screen TVs and walk-in showers, for instance. But the most remarkable feature of the place had to be the rooms' bathrooms, separated from the main part of the room only by glass walls. Yes, see-through, non-opaque glass panes.

Now, being as well-built as I am, I'm more than happy to show off my buff body in the shower, so that didn't throw me at all. But the toilet was in there, too. And while I don't mind being watched while I shower, I don't particularly enjoy being watched while I read a magazine, so to speak. And I can't think of anyone I'd want to watch, either.

So, there was that.

And there was also Hearne Christopher. In the lobby when we checked in, in the lobby bar when we dropped by, at the corner diner when we had breakfast, and at the movie set when we went there to watch Connie Stevens direct the upcoming movie "Saving Grace", starring Tatum O'Neal. He was everywhere.

Boonville is a sleepy little town on the banks of the Missouri River, and now it has a fancy historical hotel. I would highly recommend a visit, if only to have breakfast at the Riverside Diner, where I had a sandwich constructed of a thick slice of fried bologna, two eggs, and two slices of American cheese, on Texas Toast. Ain't that America?

Eddie Haskell Under Oath?

Ken Osmond, the genius actor responsible for character Eddie Haskell on "Leave it to Beaver", has sued the Screen Actor's Guild for his share of foreign royalties.

Why would you choose him as your lead plaintiff in a case where multiple plaintiffs have an interest? Won't they be able to call his credibility into doubt by bringing up the time he convinced Beaver that Mr. Donaldson was going to kill him for accepting a kiss on the cheek from his wife? And what about the time that Eddy cheated in a game of chess with Wally?

Those of us who watched the show religiously could undermine his credibility easily enough.

Yeah, but can he do "Summer Lovin'"?

Astounding dog dancing . . .

KC Fringe Fest & Blogger Meet-up

While it won't feature any works by my favorite artist, it's well worth noting that the 2007 KC Fringe Festival kicks off today. Go here to find a show or performance that stretches your world just a little.

The concept of the Fringe Festival - that good and interesting work can be put out by non-professionals - is obviously one with some resonance for bloggers. Even better, though, the Fringe Festival participants get to keep the admission fees.

Want to discuss this and other bloggish topics? My Spyderweb and General Blather have set up a blogger get-together at Governor Stumpy's. Even if you don't want to meet XO and other bloggers, who can turn down $2 beers at a locally owned restaurant?

Subsidized Saturday

Without thinking about it, I double dipped two scoops of municipal pleasure on Saturday, with a round of golf at Minor Park Municipal Golf Course and an evening of jazz at the Blue Room. In both instances, I was able to access first-class services at prices that made it affordable - I doubt I would have had it in my budget to pay the going rate for a round of golf at a private golf course, and I expect that the opportunity to hear the Will Matthews Quartet in an intimate venue would not even exist in Kansas City without the subsidized Blue Room.

Both experiences were excellent. Minor Park Golf Course lacks the hills, breathtaking beauty and ball-swallowing challenge of Swope Memorial (one of the best municipal golf courses in the nation), but it is a great place to go out with a few friends and walk the course. Despite Minor Park's reputation at a beginner's course, we finished our round in a little under four hours. The club house had signs up that the back nine holes will be closed from July 25 through August 10 at they install zoysia fairways. Next time I play, it will be wonderful to see those zoysia fairways, and, dare to dream, maybe even land in one.

That evening, my lovely spouse and I went to see Will Matthews, a jazz guitarist whose solo CD I discovered in a cut-out bin and bought on a whim. I've seen him live a couple times since, but this was the best show yet. All four members of the quartet launched into great solos - with the drummer shining in particular - and they put it all together for some great originals and classics. Body and Soul stood out as a highlight of the evening. We were able to get a great table right near the band, and enjoyed the smoke-free atmosphere of the Blue Room immensely. BTW, I grabbed a card for their Indigo Hour, which is an every-Friday happy hour from 5 - 7:30, with $2 drinks and appetizers, and door prizes. Sounds like a good thought for a culturally-aware blogger meet-up, don't you think?

In both cases, an argument could be made that taxpayers should not be subsidizing my pleasure. Dogmatic limited-government types would claim that dollars spent on golf and jazz are dollars diverted from crumbling inner-city streets and police protection.

In a sense, they are right, but they are wrong on the larger point. I love living in Kansas City because of what makes the city what it is. Minor Park and the Blue Room make Kansas City more than just a bunch of homes and businesses connected by steel-plated roads.

This morning's Kansas City Star reports that Mayor Funkhouser is directing his Parks Board to increase citizen satisfaction. According to a recent survey of Kansas City residents, 49 percent were satisfied with park maintenance and 19 percent were satisfied with youth athletic programs. The real room for quick improvement, though, lies in the 32 percent of the more than 4,100 respondents who said they seldom or never visited the parks.

Funk We Can All Agree On

Thursday evening, Ivan Neville's Dumpstaphunk will be performing their New Orleans style funk FOR FREE at the Crossroads. The doors open at 7, and the concert is open to all ages. Go here to get your FREE advance tickets, but even if you procrastinate that, you can get in for only $5 at the gate.

This is good-time music - go here for a sample. Thursday is supposed to be a gorgeous day with little chance of rain. What could you possibly have on your calendar that could beat free live music at a cool location on a beautiful July evening in Kansas City??

8 Random Things About Me

Blog memes are the chain mail of contemporary communication. (Younger readers may not know what chain mail was, and older readers may have forgotten. We used to get actual letters, photocopied and sent to us, with notes at the top or bottom from our friends telling us to add our favorite recipe or answer a few innocuous personal questions, and to forward it on to 5 or 8 friends. Some would do it, and all of us would read through the list of the letter's ancestors, which would always include a few famous people who had participated. Real letters with stamps and inked paper. It seems so precious and quaint, in hindsight . . .)

Anyhow, blog friend and real friend Spyder has tagged me with the task of listing 8 random things about me. I'm tempted to ignore the challenge, since compliance feels a little narcissistic, but I don't want to upset her further after her fawn got hit on the road in front of her property. But, unlike her, I won't write about sex. (That traffic spike is my gift to you, Spyder.) So here goes:

1. I got a "B" in diversity. The only thing between me and a 4.0 in the MPA program I finished last year was a one hour class in diversity, and I didn't put in enough time on the final paper. Or maybe it was the joke I told in class . . .

2. I can't drive a stickshift. Never learned.

3. I didn't vote in the first Presidential election in which I was eligible to vote, and Reagan won. I've carried the guilt ever since.

4. For my next trip abroad (probably 2009 or 2010), I want to go to Istanbul.

5. The best beer I have ever tasted, I made. It was a belgian dubbel, and it was spectacular.

6. In my entire baseball and softball career, I only hit one homerun.

7. I've only sung karaoke once in my life, in a basement bar in Bolivia. I sang "Danny Boy", "Piano Man" and an a capella version of "My Funny Valentine". I was brilliant.

8. I won the k-8 school spelling bee in 4th grade, but I lost in the final round of the city spelling bee on the word "forsythia". Or is it "forsithia"?

Now I'm supposed to "tag" 5 other bloggers, but I think I'll pass on that opportunity. I'd love to see some of the commenters share 8 random things about themselves, though . . .

"Once"

Capsule review here, because what I'd really like to talk about would be a spoiler. So, go to the Tivoli, watch Once, and come back here to talk about it. It's an Irish film about a Dublin busker who winds up in a musical relationship with a Czech immigrant. If, like me, you would have been a world-changingly brilliant singer songwriter if you had only learned to play guitar, you'll enjoy seeing the male lead put together an album with people he meets on the street, while the relationship simmers.

Oddly enough, the male lead (neither of the leads is ever named in the movie) is Glen Hansard, whose only other film is The Commitments, which is one of the best films about music ever made. The guy has found his genre - Irish films about contemporary musicians. It's a small niche, but he totally dominates it.

Books and Free Beer - Next Wednesday

The Kansas City Public Library will be hosting Tom Schlafly, the scion of a St. Louis family who, like me, is a recovering lawyer and a brewer. Unlike me, though, he brews a whole lot more than 10 gallons at a time - he is the founder of Schlafly Brewing, and two brew pubs. I've been to both, and heartily recommend them, though I must caution you that the Irish whiskey at the Tap Room is a bad thing to drink after many pints of the beer.

Tom has written a book - A New Religion in Mecca: Memoir of a Renegade Brewery in St. Louis - about his experiences in the world of barley, hops and yeast. He'll be speaking about the book, and offering up some of his brewery's products as free (!) samples on Wednesday, June 27th. The sampling's at 6, and the presentation is at 7, both at Central Library downtown. Go here to make your free reservations. He'll be introduced by local beer hero, John McDonald.

FIFA - Soccer is for Wimps

FIFA, the world governing body for soccer (football for the rest of the world), has recently decided that games should not be played at altitudes over 2500 meters - 8200 feet for those of us who call it soccer. This ban will prevent Bolivia, Ecuador, Peru and Colombia from hosting home games where they would normally be played.

Next up, I expect FIFA to ban games played in warm weather, or in areas with pollen, or in stadiums where the crowds are loud.

This decision does not reflect a concern for competitiveness or the integrity of the sport. Soccer's strength has always been that it is the international sport, played everywhere under a variety of conditions. When I was in Bolivia a couple years ago, I got into a pickup game with the local kids. According to FIFA, I should have whined about the altitude when they ran past me, and refused to allow them to celebrate their victory.

FIFA is dominated by the traditional power-houses of soccer, and they want to see their favored teams play in comfort. That's understandable, but they owe a higher duty to the international spirit of the sport, and their decision to restrict the international sport to European conditions is a farce. They need to rescind their decision, or cancel the next World Cup tournament. Perhaps they can substitute a "Sea Level Cup" tournament.