Telling Harold

I've seen this in multiple locations, but I still smile when I read it.

That could actually work.....

...and we could call it China

How is it that a noted heavy metal rocker makes more sense than most politicians?

Door to Door

Scheduling

On page one:

"Children may be able to learn anything, but if you wanted to learn French, you should have started when you were six."


From Guitar Zero,  a book about learning.

Judith

My friend Judith before her wedding.  Isn't she pretty?

Timed

I thought this was a joke, but it actually works.

Prosthetic Art

I hope that I never have to wear prosthetic limbs.  And if I ever do, I hope they come equipped with jet packs and the ability to shoot fireballs.

But until then, and if,  these are pretty awesome.

Photo

This is an old photograph, but, still, it delights me.  Even though the guy in the hood is likely a codger now and doesn't remember the color of the cop that protected him.

Changes

My wife made an observation about something relative to our trip, the other day.  I think she's right.

The girl who had stayed with us now has a boyfriend.  Apparently, a serious boyfriend.  When they walk together, they stay close, and he'll frequently kiss her on the cheek.  The parents are a little concerned because the girl has gotten her first diploma, so, she could right now go out and get a job as an apprentice.

A side note:  in the French educational system, you can get multiple diplomas -- the first, for your apprentissage, certifies you as an apprentice; the second, the Brevet Professionel or the Baccalaureate Professionel, certifies you as a journeyman (the difference between the two depends on whether you spend more time as a worker than as a student, or the reverse), and the third, the Brevet de Technicien Superieur, certifies you as a qualified technician in your field.

Anyway, since she has that first diploma, she and this guy could decide that young love conquers all,  put her career -- well, perhaps not on hold, but certainly on delay - and go build a life together.  Her parents don't like that possibility, and so I don't like it. (I wouldn't if it were my daughter, and in my mind, she's still my daughter.)  But even without that, I just didn't like those shows of affection -- even the guarded gotta be careful, the parents are watching type - and I didn't know why.  Until my wife said:  you want her to keep being the sweet, innocent fifteen year old you knew four years ago.

Yeah.  That's it, exactly.

Contacts

Sometimes, electronic closeness amazes me.

Sitting here on a quiet Sunday morning, I'm aware of family tensions in a family I've never met, in a country I've never visited, near a continent I've never been to  -- all because I know one member of the family, and we talk a lot.  I would bet that people there would be astonished to learn that their lives are, at least a little, known to someone on the other side of the world.

Or maybe just me?

Mood

I found a site called StereoMood where they say turn your mood into music!

I couldn't find one for I told my neighbor I'd take care of her dog while she was gone, and when I went over there this morning the damn dog had taken a dump in the kitchen, then walked through it.  I guess nothing short of Ride of the Valkyries adequately expresses my mood, at the moment.

I Love The Girl's Reaction

streaming

My wife just gave me a Sodastream, which pleased me.  Now all I need is to find somewhere to get some fruit flavorings......

Starts

It is not exercise by any reasonable definition.  But my wife and I have begun walking briskly for a quarter mile, and then at a casual pace for the return.  My goal is to be able to do this, walk briskly without stopping,  for a mile.  We'll worry about other goals when I can do this one.

It is not studying by any reasonable definition.  But today I started listening to French dictees for the first time in quite some time.  My goal is to be able to completely understand one dictee, start to finish (about 3 minutes).  When I can do that, we'll try another. 

Hey, it's a start.

Odd

How can I miss talking with someone that I've essentially only talked to once?

Cars

My wife and I recently went out for a little sightseeing with a friend and his wife.  The day was nice, but what really stuck in my mind was his car.

Unlike another friend, who said that all he wanted was something with a roof, wheels, and a steering wheel, we like a certain level of comfort in our transportation.  For example, in the Venza, we have XM radio, power sun roof, power drivers seat with lumbar support (very nice for long trips) - that sort of thing.  Better than your basic Ford, but not outrageously better.

This was my first experience in an outrageously better car.  Oh, my.

We're not sure which type of car it was, but we think (we did a little research afterward) that it's a Peugeot 508. Wikipedia says that it's a 'full size luxury car', and we have to agree.  From the incredibly comfortable leather seats, the hyper-efficient air conditioning (absolutely appreciated, as the day was scorchingly hot) to the Heads-Up dashboard display (a little screen pops up and projects instrumentation onto the windscreen so you don't have to glance down) and drivers array of Bluetooth and other devices, it's an amazing car.

Expensive?  Oh, yeah.  But now I think I see why people buy more than four wheels and a roof.

Driving in France

I'm not a particularly adventurous guy.  Though I'd like to think of myself as either some studly young bucko confidently striding the world with nothing but a lightly loaded backpack and an iPhone, or the silver-haired septuagenarian who always shows up on travel brochures with his impeccably coiffed wife, the truth is that I'm just a pretty average guy who finds it hard to get out of his comfort zone, in a lot of areas.  That goes for driving on vacation, too.

Normally, that would be no big deal.  Take a week, go to Boston or Los Angeles, rent a car.  I know where to go, I know how to get from here to there, and if I don't, there's a GPS.  Renting a car, driving it in France, for me -- the experience was a little different.  It started with the clerk at the counter, who did speak English, but overlaid with a thick Afro-French access.  There were times when neither of us understood the other.  And I'm giving this guy money? The process of actually getting out on the road was straightforward  (if you ignore our surprise at learning that the car was a diesel; it handled well, but had almost no instantaneous acceleration, so you'd stomp on the accelerator - and then slam on the brake when it abruptly lurched forward).  And the fact that it took us two loops around the lot to get onto the highway (which I don't feel too badly about; we followed another vehicle doing exactly the same thing).

Then we were on the road, and the fun began.  As I think I've mentioned elsewhere, the French drivers in Paris are aggressive.  They're not homicidal, like Boston drivers,  and they're not permanently enraged, like New York drivers, but they are aggressive.  If they see a slot in front of you where they can fit their car -- and their cars can be quite tiny -- they'll dart into it. Even if they see a slot forming, they'll start to move into it.  Fortunately, they're generally quite good drivers, so they can pull it off.  I saw cars stopping at an intersection for a bicylist, expressed surprise to a French friend, and she was surprised at mine.  They don't do that in America?  Someplaces, yes.  Not all.

And that rule about only use the left for passing?  They tend to believe it.  Multiple times, I'd be going along in the right, move the the left to pass a semi, and in the time it took me to get safely around and ahead of the truck, I'd have a previously-invisible way in the distance car right behind me, indicating its surprise that I hadn't moved back yet.

And, of course, the motorbikes.  And motorcycles.  And scooters.  Damn serious, all of them.

The GPS was quite helpful in the country, particularly when, due to a lack of coins (thank you, French bank), we didn't want to get onto the autoroute (we would not have been able to pay to get off), so we told the GPS no toll roads, and it performed admirably, eliciting only the occasional where the hell are we? Can you find us on the map?  In the city was a whole different story.  About every ten miles, it'd lose satellite lock, and then we had to hope that a key point wasn't about to turn up before the device decided Oh yes....turn right here...Yes, into the river.  Which it did on occasion.

Driving in France is fun, and interesting, and occasionally very interesting.

Flexibility

Found here.

French Kiss

I got to have my face close to some very cute teen girls when I was in France.  And to some women I didn't know.  One guy, too.

The reason was the bisou bisou - the habit of greeting women (usually) with a double cheek kiss when you first meet them, and sometimes on departure, too.  It's not actually a kiss with the lips; its a kiss where you bring your face in next to theirs on one side, make a kissing sound, then switch sides and do it again.  (If you actually kiss them on the cheek, they don't complain, though.)

This happened the first time I met the mother of the family with whom we stayed for a week; it happened every single time I met one of the teen girls who are friends of the family's teens; it happened the first time I met the wife of the fellow in Lyon, and the wife of the fellow in Aix-en-Provence, and when I met the bride in Paris.  Didn't happen when I met the woman in Toulouse (we were moving quickly through an airport at the time).  And it happened each time I met the young woman from Athis-Mons.  Somehow that last one means more to me -  maybe because she was cute (though all those teen girls were no slouches), maybe because I regard her as a close friend.

Whatever, it happened a lot.  It went very quickly from a what the - oh yeah, they do that, here to an expected ritual.  It doesn't mean something -- most of these women didn't even know me, and only one is fond of me -- but it's nice, somehow.  My wife said she particularly liked it when the good-looking teen boyfriend of our host family made a beeline for her.  Can't blame her for that.  I would see two or three bathing-suit-wearing teen girls getting ready to leave the house where we were sitting, talking,  and I'd smile, knowing what was about to happen.  Though I do admit, getting it from the guy surprised me.  Didn't feel odd, though - he's a pretty friendly guy.

The French do a lot of things that I like, and that is one of them.

Called

Just received a sales call from "John in the shipping department of medical alert" who wanted me to know about their wonderful system that's been recommended by "thousands of hospitals".

Scary part is, what with feeling a little dizzy in the heat, I may actually need that some day. Gah.

Meetings

One of the people that we met on our vacation is a young woman that I've known through Conversation Exchange for about a year.  She and I have never actually spoken together prior to this; for familial reasons, she won't let herself be heard speaking in English to a guy.  Skype-text only. This lead to her thinking that her English was pretty bad, when in fact it's pretty good.  I've noticed this in several French people. Because the standards of French schools regarding excellence in language are so high, they tend to think that they are poor communicators in English.  In fact, some are, but most of them do quite well.  Tough to convince them of that because, of course, one of the things that you say to someone you like (or just that you want to be polite to) is no, actually, your English is quite good, even if you're thinking I wonder what it is that they just said?

But this woman is, in fact, good; she rarely hesitated, and she almost never used the wrong word.  Most of our conversation was in English, because my wife was there (there's my excuse) and because it's tough for me to understand quickly spoken French (there's the actual reason).  We talked, probably, for about three hours over the course of two days, and it was completely delightful.  Much better than Skype-texting! For one thing, verbal communication lets her native intelligence shine through, in a way that texting just can't do.  For another -- well, sometimes it's just nice to sit in the sun and have a leisurely chat with a friend.  I was going to say 'a new friend', but that's not true -- as I say, I've known her for about a year.  But in a way, sitting there in the sunlight - it was.  I liked it.

It's a little odd that we've become friends, as we have very little in common - but one thing that we do have is that our attitudes towards ourselves and towards other people are very similar.  We find it hard to form deep friendships; we don't think that we're as good as we ought to be (though in different areas), and we like to be alone.  Pretty much sounds like a description of people who would not get along, but we do.  Sometimes we talk about her life (she's got to endure some problems that aren't her fault) or schooling (she was just accepted into a prestigious legal education program, though she scoffs and says oh, it was just by accident), while sometimes we talk about mine.  Curiously, I find her life interesting and mine boring, while she feels the reverse.  Each of us can't understand why the other is interested!

It was pretty cool. I wish that it had lasted longer.

It DID sound familiar....

Toulouse

The first city I actually saw on our vacation was Toulouse.  I'm not sure of the 'official' pronunciation; the people with whom I stayed said Toolooz, quickly, though I heard TooLoose, too.

However it's pronounced, I can see why people like it. My hosts live on the outskirts, in PECHBONNIEU (that's how they always wrote it; it seems to me a French thing to do that, not to mention to have FRANCE on  a separate line when writing the address.  And an all-caps last name, too.)  Pechbonnieu is another of those words that I'm sure is easily for a native to pronounce; for me, I usually came out with Peshbonnoo.  I'm sure that isn't right.  Anyway, the area where they live is somewhat rural, to the point where they have what I'd call a huge garden -- the square footage is probably about the same as I have, but where mine is grass, trees, and bushes, their's is mostly fruits and vegetables, along with a bit of lawn.  And this is the small garden; they also have a farm somewhere.

One day we went into the city.  We didn't go all the way in, but rather parked on the outskirts and took the train. (The station's name is La Vache, which made me smile.)  The Toulousian metro is small and efficient;  it's completely automated, which makes a lot of sense to me.  We emerged near a central square that was being prepared for 14 July, the French national holiday, the next day.  It's a delightful area.  We spent a little time in an office building that I regarded as very old, and they probably didn't think too much about.  It includes the mayor's office, where people get married frequently in a huge, ornate hall.  I really enjoyed seeing the inside of the building, particularly when I noticed that in one hall, the name of one of the politicians whose portrait was in the hall was Bastard.  Yes, my friend said, laughing, we have bastards as politicians, too. 

Here's a view from one of the windows, as well as from near an ice cream stand across the square.

We also went to an art museum (have to admit, the nicest thing there was how cool it was on a hot day; the display was actually of photos taken in New York in the 1950s; I actually grew up knowing some of those areas), and walked around a bit over the river, where we watched some boaters, as well as a dog who'd jumped in, splashed around, and then couldn't figure out how to easily get out again.  Fortunately for the dog, there were steps.

The next day, it was a rush to get to the TGV station, which was jammed with what appeared to be college students on holiday, as well as to find out where my section of the train would stop.  The station itself is actually quite pretty, and I wish that I'd been able to see more of it.  Perhaps one day, I will!

Ver---sigh.....

They say that you can't see all of Versailles in one  day. Absolutely true. The place is a monument to excess. The line just to get in is huge -on a busy day, about an hour of standing on a cobblestoned plain. Crowd control is poor, amenities nonexistent. No benches, no shade, no vendors, no toilets. And precious few inside,either.  The building is magnificent, but my feeling is: if you've seen three huge halls and one huge chapel, you've seen them all.

Though I admit that the gate attendant was surprised when I left before trying to slog all the way through.

some lessons

If you are using a prepaid SIM card, make ABSOLUTELY sure you know EXACTLY how to reload it, and dont wait till that last minute. For one thing, French tabacs, which sell recharge cards, are closed on Monday (the one next to my hotel, anyway).

English language GPS is nice but when it mangles foreign street names, it can be infuriating.

Small portable tool are useful.  This includes tweezers.

Always pack Pepto-Bismol (not available in france). Antacids, too.

Credit card companies will block access to your card - even a prepaid debit - if they suspect your 'pattern of purchases' indicates someone stole the card. You get to call them and list the last few, to prove its you.

Hats are a good idea, even if they DO make you look like a tourist.

Small smart phones are nice, but TOO small can drive you crazy.

Dropbox is a terrific service, although the upload function for Android could use a ´select all´ option.

The TGV is expensive and worth it.

The French autoroute tolls are automated and take euro coins. Some take euro notes. They dont take prepaid debit cards, even with chips. Chipped credit only.

French banks don´t  like to give change.  Stores don´t, either.

Internet access is not a given. Neither is air conditioning.

nope

You hear about people who can happily slog across Europe or Soutb America, live in hostels, chow down on the local food, mix with the natives. Yeah, thats not me. I do like where I am at the moment,especially now the temperature is no longer in the scorching range, and I am already think about the next time that we come   - but right now, with two days to go---- I'm essentially packed.

YL

The 18 year old daughter of a fritend is now officially part of a couple...three days after having a screaming, crying, shrieking argument with him.

I really don't understand teen girls.

yeah, but..

Many words sound nicer in French. La Poubelle,  for example,is the trash can. Nicer.

Hearing a French truck emptying la poubelle at 7AM, though.... Not so magical.

observation

2 weeks without internet access, finally got it. Bliss. Next day ...Man this thing is slow!

Vacation

I'll be gone for the next three weeks.

Watchdogs

This promo for a new game looks pretty interesting..... bet the NSA would like it!

Druggie

Nothing like packing for a trip and seeing 3 weeks supply of the drugs you take, all in one place, to make you feel old and decrepit.  Pretty soon I'm going to need a separate bag, just for the drugs.

Wondermark Excellence

Discussions

We just had a moderately tense discussion with our daughter.

The primary focus was her desire to attend a drill team event that's being held over three days, at a location that's 90 minutes from here.  We don't feel comfortable with the idea of her driving that far, that often.  Mixed into that is the cost of that event, and whether we're willing to pay any of it, as well as the cost of another event, more expensive, and whether we're willing to pay any of that.  I know that it's traditional for fathers to feel as if they're the child's draw-at-will checking account, but this was a bit much.  It particularly affected my wife, who made the point - with obvious efforts at self control - that the daughter's going to get everything she wants, here, and not even have to fund it all, while we're asking her to do things - cleaning her room being the big one - and getting blown off.  We finally got it somewhat resolved, though, as I said to my daughter later, you have to realize that this is generosity on our part; unlike college, we don't feel the need to fund any of this.  But, she pointed out, I did say that I could pay it all myself if necessary.  Yes, I replied, I heard that.  It sounded like Hey, I don't need you to let me go, I can pay for this out of my own funds! She had the grace to look abashed, and to admit that that was part of it.

And then, ten minutes later, she asked me what I thought of an idea for a volunteer summer job, next year, that would give her practical experience in arranging the logistics for about 170 people in a drill team - arranging food, arranging practice arenas, setting up transportation, getting props moved,  setting up sleeping locations, all of that.  I told her that so long as she realized this would mean she wouldn't be earning money, the experience itself sounded quite valuable.  Not sure it will happen, but she's thinking about it.

So we're still a little disgruntled, but perhaps not quite as much as three hours ago.

Observation

Don't offer comments when a woman is angry about her daughter's failure to clean to the mother's standards.

Bread

Found here.

1. More than 98 percent of convicted felons are bread eaters.
2. Fully HALF of all children who grow up in bread-consuming households score below average on standardized tests.
3. In the 18th century, when virtually all bread was baked in the home, the average life expectancy was less than 50 years; infant mortality rates were unacceptably high; many women died in childbirth; and diseases such as typhoid, yellow fever and influenza ravaged whole nations.
4. More than 90 percent of violent crimes are committed within 24 hours of eating bread.
5. Bread is made from a substance called "dough." It has been proven that as little as one pound of dough can be used to suffocate a mouse. The average American eats more bread than that in one month!
6. Primitive tribal societies that have no bread exhibit a low occurrence of cancer, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's disease and osteoporosis.
7. Bread has been proven to be addictive. Subjects deprived of bread and given only water to eat begged for bread after only two days.
8. Bread is often a "gateway" food item, leading the user to "harder" items such as butter, jelly, peanut butter and even cold cuts.
9. Bread has been proven to absorb water. Since the human body is more than 90 percent water, it follows that eating bread could lead to your body being taken over by this absorptive food product, turning you into a soggy, gooey bread-pudding person.
10. Newborn babies can choke on bread.
11. Bread is baked at temperatures as high as 400 degrees Fahrenheit! That kind of heat can kill an adult in less than one minute.
12. Most American bread eaters are utterly unable to distinguish between significant scientific fact and meaningless statistical babbling.

RED

Last week we Tivo'd a flick called RED, the original version of one called RED 2 that's coming out this month.  The previews of that one looked pretty good.... and now that we've seen the original, I can see why it yelled 'sequel me'!  I think that in the whole 90 minutes or so there were, perhaps, 2 minutes that were wasted.  Not at all a bad flick.  Here's hoping the sequel lives up to it.

La Maison Des Voitures

This is the kind of thing I admire greatly and would never, ever consider getting.... even if I could afford it, which is another never ever.

But the 'dream of every man' moniker seems a bit much.....

Eh

Found here.

Invite

I received our invitation to our friend's wedding in Paris, to be held at the end of the month. Based on the quality of the invitation, I now understand why they're having three separate ceremonies.  It's easily the classiest thing that has ever arrived in our mailbox. 

Governing

I just read an article on a new, fresh idea in administration of city and state government.   Actually, a couple of ideas.

One is, don’t administer by emotion, administer by data.  Track what works, determine why it works, propagate it.

The other is, give people the freedom to determine how to meet goals, using their own initiative.  Don’t tell them how, tell them what.   And along the way, establish communications with other agencies, so that you can support each others goals.

Speaking of which: have goals.  Broad, overarching, multi-year, multi-agency goals.

I don’t know what’s worse – realizing that these people are hotted up for something that the private sector discovered more than a decade ago, or realizing that they’re hotted up for something that the private sector substantially gave up on, more than a decade ago.  Actually, to say gave up on is unfair, since many of the pieces are still out there, and I’m willing to bet that those which haven’t been overcome by the creeping algae of bureaucracy are still pumping along.  But the original, shiny, Big Idea Big Picture stuff that looked so good before they took off the wrapper and tried to make it work?  That, not so much.

People really want fast, straightforward solutions.  Government’s no different, I guess.

Hokus SCOTUS

So the Supremes now say that if you are silent when talking to the police, they can take that as an admission of guilt, and that you have to say you don't want to talk to them before you have Fifth Amendment rights, only those don't come into play until you're arrested?


Police state, coming up.

Found

Found here, at katinca.tumblr.com.