Sure, back when I went storm chasing earlier this year, I saw perhaps a dozen funnels briefly touch down left and right in a multi-vortex tornado. As surreal and scary as the actual funnel clouds were, I maintain that they oddly weren't the most threatening sight I witnessed. Rather, it was the violent motion of the clouds associated with the updraft that composed the larger mesocyclone (that's some fancy wordsies, ain't it?), in which the clouds seemed to be moving in all directions simultaneously: up and down, swirling counter-clockwise in a haphazard yet strangely organized fashion.
As you can tell by my feeble attempt to describe this phenomenon, it's difficult to convey exactly what this looked like until now, thanks to the magic of YouTube (and the good folks at TornadoVideos.net).
The following video is a time-lapse of a rotating supercell in Argentina. (Yes, they have tornadoes in the southern hemisphere, too.) Just after the 1:00 mark, when you can begin to see the wall cloud form, is when you begin to see what I'm talking about:
Eerie, ain't it? True, this is a time-lapse video sped up somewhat, but these clouds can move close to the same speed in real-time. So while there is no doubt the sight of a tornado is terrifying, the movement of clouds beneath the greater mesocyclone is a quietly foreboding image.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Delusions of Ungrandeur
WARNING: this entry's Mindless Rambling Index is dangerously high. Proceed with caution.
Ever had an idea, a thought, a philosophy that you wish you could follow and remember each and every day, but that inevitably loses your mind's grip on a regular basis? As hard as we try to keep apathy and a sense of "coasting" through life from creeping into our streams of consciousness, these tend to return on a somewhat regular basis, and it takes something significant to wake us from that stupor.
I had one of those wake-up calls recently.
On Thanksgiving morning, I was busy at a gas station, filling up my car, withstanding the newfound chill in the air. A woman that may or may not have been homeless passed me on a nearby sidewalk, and sunnily said, "Now THAT is one cute car!" As an owner of a Mini Cooper, I'm accustomed to hearing this -- and to the hint of emasculation that comes with it...the word "cute" often does that to a man when referring to one of his possessions. I smiled and thanked her, and she continued, "You have a wonderful Thanksgiving; I know I will!"
I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the genuine excitement with which she said it. Her attitude was somewhat unexpected, given her ragged appearance. But her words set off alarms in my head: I'm coasting through life.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving with the folks. I really was, but I also was preoccupied with how difficult this, that, or the other will be to overcome tomorrow, next week, next year. Or other times, I was consumed with disappointments past. It wasn't intentional, but the attention I was giving to yesterday AND tomorrow sort of represented a de facto lack of value I was placing on today. The awareness that something really significant was about to happen RIGHT NOW -- Thanksgiving with the folks -- was missing. This lack of focus also implies an illusion that life is just so ordinary: delusions of ungrandeur.
Not to go all self-indulgent on you, but I've been guilty of this a handful of times recently, I think. I'm reminded of a phrase "struggled to see past my nose", from Tom Petty's song, "Square One". If you retreat into this self-imposed shell, it's easy to get so wrapped up in life's challenges that the truly great things in life pass you by, like cars going the other way on the interstate.
I recently watched a movie called "The Dish" -- an adaptation of a true story about the Australian radio telescope that received radio and TV signals from the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969. One of those uber-charming movies that your outer self will say is cheesy, but that your soul appreciates. The telescope's crew overcomes a series of challenges (accompanied by dry Aussie wit) and ultimately accomplishes its mission. But one character caught my attention.
Cliff Buxton (played by Sam Neill) is the head of the telescope's crew. You get the feeling he used to be a real hard-ass, running the operation with an iron grip, but has obviously loosened up in recent days. As it turns out, his wife had died a year before. It's not clear how, but she had been instrumental in the dish's missions, with more enthusiasm and less gravity than her husband. In one scene, this all comes to light, as Cliff confides to another member of the team:
"She was so excited by all this. It made me realize that I should be excited, too. And I am."
A simple line, but it tells a lot. In months leading up to the mission, Cliff apparently was preoccupied, obsessed with running a tight ship, letting the "amazingness" of the mission (i.e., man about to walk on the friggin' moon) pass him by. Delusions of ungrandeur.
But when his wife passed away, her enthusiasm went with her. Maybe that set off the alarm in Cliff's head. While he continued to lead his underlings strongly, he did so with a more laid-back, appreciative attitude, fully embracing the excitement of his circumstances. And doing so, you could perhaps argue, empowered him to deal with the mission's challenges more capably.
Back to that woman at the gas station, though: it was definitely a wake-up call that I needed to hear. If I could just bottle the lesson she taught me, because I'm sure I'll slip into cruise control again, probably next week.
Ever had an idea, a thought, a philosophy that you wish you could follow and remember each and every day, but that inevitably loses your mind's grip on a regular basis? As hard as we try to keep apathy and a sense of "coasting" through life from creeping into our streams of consciousness, these tend to return on a somewhat regular basis, and it takes something significant to wake us from that stupor.
I had one of those wake-up calls recently.
On Thanksgiving morning, I was busy at a gas station, filling up my car, withstanding the newfound chill in the air. A woman that may or may not have been homeless passed me on a nearby sidewalk, and sunnily said, "Now THAT is one cute car!" As an owner of a Mini Cooper, I'm accustomed to hearing this -- and to the hint of emasculation that comes with it...the word "cute" often does that to a man when referring to one of his possessions. I smiled and thanked her, and she continued, "You have a wonderful Thanksgiving; I know I will!"
I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the genuine excitement with which she said it. Her attitude was somewhat unexpected, given her ragged appearance. But her words set off alarms in my head: I'm coasting through life.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I wasn't looking forward to Thanksgiving with the folks. I really was, but I also was preoccupied with how difficult this, that, or the other will be to overcome tomorrow, next week, next year. Or other times, I was consumed with disappointments past. It wasn't intentional, but the attention I was giving to yesterday AND tomorrow sort of represented a de facto lack of value I was placing on today. The awareness that something really significant was about to happen RIGHT NOW -- Thanksgiving with the folks -- was missing. This lack of focus also implies an illusion that life is just so ordinary: delusions of ungrandeur.
Not to go all self-indulgent on you, but I've been guilty of this a handful of times recently, I think. I'm reminded of a phrase "struggled to see past my nose", from Tom Petty's song, "Square One". If you retreat into this self-imposed shell, it's easy to get so wrapped up in life's challenges that the truly great things in life pass you by, like cars going the other way on the interstate.
I recently watched a movie called "The Dish" -- an adaptation of a true story about the Australian radio telescope that received radio and TV signals from the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969. One of those uber-charming movies that your outer self will say is cheesy, but that your soul appreciates. The telescope's crew overcomes a series of challenges (accompanied by dry Aussie wit) and ultimately accomplishes its mission. But one character caught my attention.Cliff Buxton (played by Sam Neill) is the head of the telescope's crew. You get the feeling he used to be a real hard-ass, running the operation with an iron grip, but has obviously loosened up in recent days. As it turns out, his wife had died a year before. It's not clear how, but she had been instrumental in the dish's missions, with more enthusiasm and less gravity than her husband. In one scene, this all comes to light, as Cliff confides to another member of the team:
"She was so excited by all this. It made me realize that I should be excited, too. And I am."
A simple line, but it tells a lot. In months leading up to the mission, Cliff apparently was preoccupied, obsessed with running a tight ship, letting the "amazingness" of the mission (i.e., man about to walk on the friggin' moon) pass him by. Delusions of ungrandeur.
But when his wife passed away, her enthusiasm went with her. Maybe that set off the alarm in Cliff's head. While he continued to lead his underlings strongly, he did so with a more laid-back, appreciative attitude, fully embracing the excitement of his circumstances. And doing so, you could perhaps argue, empowered him to deal with the mission's challenges more capably.
Back to that woman at the gas station, though: it was definitely a wake-up call that I needed to hear. If I could just bottle the lesson she taught me, because I'm sure I'll slip into cruise control again, probably next week.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Good Advice
This is my kind of street vandalism. Just outside my apartment:
And for the 4th-grader in us all:
Lost At E Minor / If Bullies Made Street Signs
And for the 4th-grader in us all:
Lost At E Minor / If Bullies Made Street Signs
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Doppelganger Alert
Is it just me? New Dallas Cowboys defensive coordinator Paul Pasqualoni = Will Ferrell in 25 years.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Of Exploding Whales
From the "What the hell?" department...
Yesterday was the infamous 40-year anniversary of perhaps the lowest of low points for grey whales everywhere. Shortly before November 12, 1970, near Florence, Oregon, an already-deceased whale had washed up on shore. Unfortunately, no one really knew what to do with the massive, decomposing, 8-ton sea mammal.
You can't exactly bury it, you can't really haul it away, and you can't just let it rot, significantly decreasing the land value of at least a 5-mile downwind radius. So the next logical solution? Explode the carcass using a half-ton of dynamite.
On the surface, it sounds awful, but it actually makes a lot of sense: disintegrate the whale's leftovers with the explosion, and let scavenging seagulls take care of the rest.
If nothing else, it provided golden material for columnist Dave Barry, a website dedicated to the incident (www.theexplodingwhale.com), and for alliterative one-liners by television reporters like Paul Linnman, who coined the timeless phrase, "The blast blasted blubber beyond all believable bounds."
The video? I thought you'd never ask:
Yesterday was the infamous 40-year anniversary of perhaps the lowest of low points for grey whales everywhere. Shortly before November 12, 1970, near Florence, Oregon, an already-deceased whale had washed up on shore. Unfortunately, no one really knew what to do with the massive, decomposing, 8-ton sea mammal.
You can't exactly bury it, you can't really haul it away, and you can't just let it rot, significantly decreasing the land value of at least a 5-mile downwind radius. So the next logical solution? Explode the carcass using a half-ton of dynamite.
On the surface, it sounds awful, but it actually makes a lot of sense: disintegrate the whale's leftovers with the explosion, and let scavenging seagulls take care of the rest.
If nothing else, it provided golden material for columnist Dave Barry, a website dedicated to the incident (www.theexplodingwhale.com), and for alliterative one-liners by television reporters like Paul Linnman, who coined the timeless phrase, "The blast blasted blubber beyond all believable bounds."
The video? I thought you'd never ask:
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
National TV Debut
OK, so I took some liberties with that title. But I'm still excited.
You may or may not be aware of my storm chasing expedition this past May. (Those who are no doubt are thinking, "My God, he's rambling about that AGAIN?") As nutty as that experience was, it will be etched into the cable TV history books tomorrow night, when the newest episode of Storm Chasers airs on the Discovery Channel at 10pm ET.
The main focus of the show for the last couple of seasons has been self-proclaimed extreme storm chaser Reed Timmer, along with his cronies, videographer extraordinaire Chris Chittick and on-again-off-again driver Joel Taylor. Of course, the cameras focused on these guys (the Discovery Channel production team made damn sure of that), but if you freeze frame and zoom WAAAY in, you might catch me and the van I was in following several hundred feet behind, as we tracked down -- and almost got swallowed by -- a multi-vortex tornado near Wakita, Oklahoma.
Most people long for 15 minutes of fame, I'll be flipping out of my mind if I get 15 frames.
Now I'm not one to complain, but this season, Storm Chasers seems so over-the-top and melodramatic that it takes away from the intensity of the subject matter. In past years, the show behaved like a Discovery Channel show: lots of sciency stuff -- detailed enough that you actually learn something but dumbed down enough that you're not overwhelmed -- with a little comic relief here and there.
But the drama this season between competing chasers is so manufactured and overhyped that it's ridiculous; a far cry from the actual educational material from past years. Last week's episode featured less about a tornado outbreak in eastern Arkansas and more about an emotional rift between Reed and Chris when Reed's girlfriend (no doubt invited down by the Discovery Channel for this very purpose) displaced Chris's seat on a chase.
Come on! Less kiss-and-tell, more supercell!
-
But on a distinctly more somber note, I was deeply saddened to hear about the untimely death of one of the show's recent regulars. Matt Hughes (at left in the picture below), long-term member of The Storm Report, passed away suddenly in late May this past year in a matter unrelated to his chasing career. Tragic beyond belief.
Supposedly, tomorrow's episode is dedicated to his memory, as it features his last (and possibly most successful) chase. I'm sure it will be tastefully done.
You may or may not be aware of my storm chasing expedition this past May. (Those who are no doubt are thinking, "My God, he's rambling about that AGAIN?") As nutty as that experience was, it will be etched into the cable TV history books tomorrow night, when the newest episode of Storm Chasers airs on the Discovery Channel at 10pm ET.
The main focus of the show for the last couple of seasons has been self-proclaimed extreme storm chaser Reed Timmer, along with his cronies, videographer extraordinaire Chris Chittick and on-again-off-again driver Joel Taylor. Of course, the cameras focused on these guys (the Discovery Channel production team made damn sure of that), but if you freeze frame and zoom WAAAY in, you might catch me and the van I was in following several hundred feet behind, as we tracked down -- and almost got swallowed by -- a multi-vortex tornado near Wakita, Oklahoma.Most people long for 15 minutes of fame, I'll be flipping out of my mind if I get 15 frames.
Now I'm not one to complain, but this season, Storm Chasers seems so over-the-top and melodramatic that it takes away from the intensity of the subject matter. In past years, the show behaved like a Discovery Channel show: lots of sciency stuff -- detailed enough that you actually learn something but dumbed down enough that you're not overwhelmed -- with a little comic relief here and there.
But the drama this season between competing chasers is so manufactured and overhyped that it's ridiculous; a far cry from the actual educational material from past years. Last week's episode featured less about a tornado outbreak in eastern Arkansas and more about an emotional rift between Reed and Chris when Reed's girlfriend (no doubt invited down by the Discovery Channel for this very purpose) displaced Chris's seat on a chase.
Come on! Less kiss-and-tell, more supercell!
-
But on a distinctly more somber note, I was deeply saddened to hear about the untimely death of one of the show's recent regulars. Matt Hughes (at left in the picture below), long-term member of The Storm Report, passed away suddenly in late May this past year in a matter unrelated to his chasing career. Tragic beyond belief.
Supposedly, tomorrow's episode is dedicated to his memory, as it features his last (and possibly most successful) chase. I'm sure it will be tastefully done.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Opening the Vault
Just a quick, shameless plug for my new Staff Writer position at The Daily Vault. Maybe all this practice writing random drivel will finally begin paying off!But seriously, folks, give The Daily Vault a look or two, if you're at all a music fan. I've been reading the site for years now. Not only is it humorous and enjoyable to read, but without fail, the writers do a fabulous job of delving into why an album is worth buying or ditching through detailed analysis of the musicianship, instrumentation, and other technical aspects within each opus. Smart people.
I don't know what they were thinking, letting me come on board.
I mean, I know what "syncopation" means, but that's about it. For sure, though, it'll be an enjoyable ride up the learning curve.
They released my first review today: Consolers of the Lonely, by the Raconteurs. It's a bit of a thrill, you know, having my name show up on a site that halfway means something.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Good Intentions
I get the feeling that, no matter how hard we try to solve certain problems (like saving the environment), there will always be drawbacks to any proposed solution. To be painfully logical, I guess we just have to try and choose whatever has the most positive net effect: the solution with the highest degree of positives and the lowest degree of negatives. If I'm remembering correctly from my college ethics class, I think they call that utilitarianism.
Image credit: The Duplex, by Glenn McCoy
Sunday, September 26, 2010
JoshCast #30 - What Sin Replaces Love
I just watched a mini-documentary called "September" (see this YouTube clip) about the genesis of Ryan Adams & The Cardinals -- probably the most recent addition to my list of personal all-time-greats. (See especially: Cold Roses) Their genius is multi-layered: alt-country instrumentation, a quality I call "listenability", and a top-notch (if idiosyncratic) front man in Ryan Adams.
(Great example of the above, the single "Let It Ride".)
In particular, I'm endlessly enamored by his way with words. He's no stranger to heart-wrenching lyrics ("See her smilin' at him / That used to be me / And I could find her in a thunderstorm / Just be the way that the rain would fall"). But it's the following words from the aforementioned documentary that reveal the apparent ease with which his musical talents translate from his brain to your speakers:
"If you sit and [mess] around with a guitar for longer than 30 minutes, you might accidentally run into a couple of chords that sound like a song. As soon as I get on to something like that, I'm like 'Aw, shit,' and I have to take it where it's going. And then I feel really satisfied, like I did something today.
"Then I go out and I get drunk. It's great."
I wish it was that easy for me.
Anyway, Adams's edgier alter-ego shows up in the following unreleased track. Very 70s rocksy and bluesy (right up my alley), and a bit of a departure from his alt-country creations with The Cardinals. Peel back the cheesy MTV-style intro and the embellished theatrics, and you get some great stuff:
(Great example of the above, the single "Let It Ride".)
In particular, I'm endlessly enamored by his way with words. He's no stranger to heart-wrenching lyrics ("See her smilin' at him / That used to be me / And I could find her in a thunderstorm / Just be the way that the rain would fall"). But it's the following words from the aforementioned documentary that reveal the apparent ease with which his musical talents translate from his brain to your speakers:
"If you sit and [mess] around with a guitar for longer than 30 minutes, you might accidentally run into a couple of chords that sound like a song. As soon as I get on to something like that, I'm like 'Aw, shit,' and I have to take it where it's going. And then I feel really satisfied, like I did something today.
"Then I go out and I get drunk. It's great."
I wish it was that easy for me.
Anyway, Adams's edgier alter-ego shows up in the following unreleased track. Very 70s rocksy and bluesy (right up my alley), and a bit of a departure from his alt-country creations with The Cardinals. Peel back the cheesy MTV-style intro and the embellished theatrics, and you get some great stuff:
Monday, September 20, 2010
Coach Skinner
A 77-year-old basketball coach died today after a hard-fought bout with Alzheimer's disease. A tragedy, for sure. But his name will live on...it will be printed on music festival posters, announced enthusiastically by classic rock radio disc jockeys, and adored by onlookers at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Coach Skinner wasn't the most popular guy at Robert E. Lee High School in Jacksonville, Florida, during the sixties. He sported a flat-top haircut, and apparently wanted all of his male students to do the same. One budding guitarist in particular, named Gary Rossington, protested the coach's policies by naming the future greatest-Southern-rock-band-ever after him.
Now that's revenge.
Yes, as you no doubt figured out by now, the Coach's first name was Leonard. Leonard Skinner. I'm guessing the coach's oppressive tactics earned him the nickname Leonard Skinnerd, which eventually the band reshuffled to form their final name, Lynyrd Skynyrd.
But oh, the fun didn't stop there. According to this ABC News story:
"[Skinner] also got a second helping of fame after he started selling property. A lawn sign featuring his name and telephone number appeared among the illustrations on their third album, 1975's Nuthin' Fancy. He was soon inundated with thousands of telephone calls from around the world at all hours of the day and night..."
Interesting story. And so, farewell Coach Skinner. Fly high, free bird.
Coach Skinner wasn't the most popular guy at Robert E. Lee High School in Jacksonville, Florida, during the sixties. He sported a flat-top haircut, and apparently wanted all of his male students to do the same. One budding guitarist in particular, named Gary Rossington, protested the coach's policies by naming the future greatest-Southern-rock-band-ever after him.
Now that's revenge.
Yes, as you no doubt figured out by now, the Coach's first name was Leonard. Leonard Skinner. I'm guessing the coach's oppressive tactics earned him the nickname Leonard Skinnerd, which eventually the band reshuffled to form their final name, Lynyrd Skynyrd.
But oh, the fun didn't stop there. According to this ABC News story:
"[Skinner] also got a second helping of fame after he started selling property. A lawn sign featuring his name and telephone number appeared among the illustrations on their third album, 1975's Nuthin' Fancy. He was soon inundated with thousands of telephone calls from around the world at all hours of the day and night..."
Interesting story. And so, farewell Coach Skinner. Fly high, free bird.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Power of Music
...demonstrated poignantly in the following interview of Colonel Jack Leroy Tooler (or Tuler?). If you have two minutes to spare today, spend them on this:
Source: Lost At E Minor
Source: Lost At E Minor
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
JoshCast #29 - I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself
It may just be my imagination, but the perception of Jack White many people have seems to be that fans only follow him because, somewhere, someone several years ago said it was cool to follow him. Probably true in some circumstances -- and some of you may accuse me of the same crime. But I maintain that my fandom is driven by his insistence to constantly try new genres, performing more than adequately in each and every environment.First, it was blues-rock and The White Stripes. Mix in some folk/country influences and you get The Raconteurs. Throw in a little darkness and Alison Mosshart and you get his more recent project, The Dead Weather. Then, his acting debut in Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story where he portrays Elvis Presley. Which brings us to his latest collaboration: a single with -- of all people -- Conan O'Brien??
Keeps you guessing, that's for sure.
One of his first pleasant surprises as 50% of The White Stripes was a cover of Burt Bacharach's 1962 single "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" from 2003's Elephant. Interesting cover...obviously a little rougher around the edges than the original. A few more power chords and such. Love the finale starting about 2:00...
Sunday, August 29, 2010
To Err Is Human
Recently, I read an interesting op-ed piece in that fine publication, The Dallas Morning News, that explored various aspects of one of humankind's greatest fears.Being wrong.
In her column, Kathryn Schulz articulates the feelings we often get after erring in any number of ways: by our words, our actions, our ideas. "We often respond with embarrassment, irritation, defensiveness, denial and blame."
Light-hearted example: in a moment of temporary stupidity (or maybe, in my case, permanent stupidity) while hanging with a couple of friends in a bookstore several years ago, I had a "brilliant" idea to fill an empty niche. With a sincerity that belied my single-digit IQ, I proclaimed, "Hey! I wonder why there's not a place where you can rent books? I mean, you could make so much money!"
Really.
Needless to say, intense laughter and embarrassment followed. But more serious situations of course would result in more serious psychological responses. Messing something up at work/school, for instance, probably would result in that irritation and defensiveness Schulz was referring to. We take ourselves awfully seriously sometimes, because we don't like it when it's made painfully public that we're NOT perfect. "Misunderstanding our mistakes in this way -- seeing them as evidence of flaws and indictment of our overall worth -- exacts a steep toll on us," Ms. Schulz says, "in private and public life alike."
Maybe it helps a little if you realize that it's EXTREMELY natural to be wrong, and we're ALL wrong A LOT. But alternatively, if you sit and think about it, it's astounding just how often we're right...and simply aren't aware of it.
To illustrate this point, Schulz asks you to recall learning the English language:
"If you are a native English speaker, you figured out within the first several years of your life that you should add the suffix -ed to form a past-tense verb. This was a brilliant guess. It's largely correct, it taught you a huge number of words in one fell swoop, and it was a lot less painful than separately memorizing the past tense of every verb in the English language. But it also meant that, sooner or later, you said things like 'drinked' and 'thinked' and 'runned'. You got a huge number of things right, at the price of getting a certain number of things wrong."
So this could help soften the blow a little. Plus, we're not wrong because we're dumb or lazy or whatever (like Seinfeld's Kramer here). We're wrong because we're still learning.
When I remember to be self-aware in this way, I like to conclude my erroneous episodes by emphasizing to myself that I just learned something. Sure, maybe it doesn't help much when I say something stupid during, say, a job interview or a first date. But it's better than nothing.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Coo Coo Ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson...
Ah, the subtle discrepancies between life in reality and life on the big screen...
I watched The Graduate recently, and found it fascinating on a number of levels. Quick background: a recent college grad, Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman), becomes entangled in a romantic affair with an older woman, Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft). Hence the famous line, "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me." Things get complicated, though, as Ben falls in love with Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross). Ben becomes so hopelessly obsessed with Elaine that he pretty much goes to the end of the earth and back to win her heart.
First of all, the first third of the movie is absolutely hilarious. Ben embodies an intense awkwardness as he engages in the affair -- it's painfully obvious when meeting her at a hotel one night.
What I found more intriguing was the manner in which Ben chased down the lovely Elaine during the last third of the movie. Herein lies a conflict:
From a cynic's point of view, you'd have to think that, in reality, such extreme measures would at some point have resulted in a restraining order. But from a romantic's point of view, it's a gorgeous fairy tale that teenage girls dream will happen to them one day.
I randomly ran across someone's thoughts on obsession (an emotion which dominates Ben's motives) recently: "Obsession: a persistent, disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; compelling motivation. I like the latter definition personally. I can be compelled, but at what point does persistence become disturbing? Also, don't most good ideas and feelings initially seem unreasonable? Honestly, by definition, if you're not obsessed, I just don't think you're trying... you lazy buggers."
An important detail I've left out until this point is that the feeling between Ben and Elaine was at one point mutual. In other words, it's NOT an unreasonable idea that Ben, given persistence, gets the girl. But if the girl (or guy) just has no interest whatsoever, it matters not how persistent the pursuer is, it just ain't gonna be successful. Here's where the cynic's point of view wins out: persistence isn't romantic; it's just plain creepy and disturbing.
Circling back...to me, the most ingenious part of The Graduate was that it doesn't really resolve this conflict in the final scene, unlike the usual marshmallowy romantic tale. Sure, Ben and Elaine run off together in the end (quite literally), but as the credits begin to roll, it's not 100% clear whether romanticism wins (Ben's obsession is rewarded and he gets the girl) or loses (reality sets in and it doesn't work out).
Which is actually painfully realistic.
I watched The Graduate recently, and found it fascinating on a number of levels. Quick background: a recent college grad, Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman), becomes entangled in a romantic affair with an older woman, Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft). Hence the famous line, "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me." Things get complicated, though, as Ben falls in love with Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross). Ben becomes so hopelessly obsessed with Elaine that he pretty much goes to the end of the earth and back to win her heart.First of all, the first third of the movie is absolutely hilarious. Ben embodies an intense awkwardness as he engages in the affair -- it's painfully obvious when meeting her at a hotel one night.
What I found more intriguing was the manner in which Ben chased down the lovely Elaine during the last third of the movie. Herein lies a conflict:
From a cynic's point of view, you'd have to think that, in reality, such extreme measures would at some point have resulted in a restraining order. But from a romantic's point of view, it's a gorgeous fairy tale that teenage girls dream will happen to them one day.
I randomly ran across someone's thoughts on obsession (an emotion which dominates Ben's motives) recently: "Obsession: a persistent, disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; compelling motivation. I like the latter definition personally. I can be compelled, but at what point does persistence become disturbing? Also, don't most good ideas and feelings initially seem unreasonable? Honestly, by definition, if you're not obsessed, I just don't think you're trying... you lazy buggers."
An important detail I've left out until this point is that the feeling between Ben and Elaine was at one point mutual. In other words, it's NOT an unreasonable idea that Ben, given persistence, gets the girl. But if the girl (or guy) just has no interest whatsoever, it matters not how persistent the pursuer is, it just ain't gonna be successful. Here's where the cynic's point of view wins out: persistence isn't romantic; it's just plain creepy and disturbing.
Circling back...to me, the most ingenious part of The Graduate was that it doesn't really resolve this conflict in the final scene, unlike the usual marshmallowy romantic tale. Sure, Ben and Elaine run off together in the end (quite literally), but as the credits begin to roll, it's not 100% clear whether romanticism wins (Ben's obsession is rewarded and he gets the girl) or loses (reality sets in and it doesn't work out).
Which is actually painfully realistic.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sense of Humor
Nothing like a little comic relief to lighten the topics of death and eternity.
Credit: Non Sequitur, by Wiley Miller
Credit: Dilbert, by Scott Adams
"God has a sense of humor." It really would explain a lot.
"God has a sense of humor." It really would explain a lot.
Friday, July 23, 2010
JoshCast #28 - #41 (Live)
Who better to finish my JoshCast binge than my hands-down, no-debate, don't-even-try-and-argue-with-me favorite band of all time?
The good news: the Dave Matthews Band will visit Dallas on September 11 -- only a month and a half down the road. The bad news: this will be among the last times ANYONE will get to witness them live for a long while, since they're taking a one-year tour break in 2011. It's a well-deserved hiatus, seeing as they sold a staggering 11,230,696 tickets last decade.
They must be doing SOMETHING right, huh? Even after all these years?
Speaking of "after all these years", today's track is lifted from Listener Supported, which was recorded back in 1999. It's a quintessential DMB track, showcasing the talents of all its members during its closing five-minute jam session:
Boyd Tinsley on violin.
The late Leroi Moore on sax.
Carter Beauford on drums.
Only guitar god Timmy Reynolds, who has toured with the band the last few years, is missing.
Lots of people can't stand DMB. OK, I sorta get it...they've had their share of clunker albums, and maybe you're not into the whole 20+ minute jam session thing. But I just CANNOT fathom why anyone WOULDN'T love the last five minutes of this song:
The good news: the Dave Matthews Band will visit Dallas on September 11 -- only a month and a half down the road. The bad news: this will be among the last times ANYONE will get to witness them live for a long while, since they're taking a one-year tour break in 2011. It's a well-deserved hiatus, seeing as they sold a staggering 11,230,696 tickets last decade.They must be doing SOMETHING right, huh? Even after all these years?
Speaking of "after all these years", today's track is lifted from Listener Supported, which was recorded back in 1999. It's a quintessential DMB track, showcasing the talents of all its members during its closing five-minute jam session:
Boyd Tinsley on violin.
The late Leroi Moore on sax.
Carter Beauford on drums.
Only guitar god Timmy Reynolds, who has toured with the band the last few years, is missing.
Lots of people can't stand DMB. OK, I sorta get it...they've had their share of clunker albums, and maybe you're not into the whole 20+ minute jam session thing. But I just CANNOT fathom why anyone WOULDN'T love the last five minutes of this song:
Thursday, July 22, 2010
JoshCast #27 - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
JoshCast week -- or where my narcissistic writing assumes that you have similar tastes in music that I do -- continues... as does my interest in a certain female vocalist.
Probably a year ago, I stumbled on the music of Neko Case. I don't remember how, although I think it through an indie group called The New Pornographers, with whom she was associated before making it big in her solo career.
I'm not 100% sure why her music constantly finds its way to my ears. Her hypnotizing voice and lyrics are the most likely reasons, but her off-the-beaten-path-ness is equally appealing. Both qualities are evident if you see her live: the former in her usually 3-minutes-or-less musical gems, the latter in the irregular but hilarious anecdotes you hear between songs.
I mean, how could a self-described "country noir" artist with radiant, ruby hair who also the co-stars with T-Pain in an animated TV series called "Cheyenne Cinnamon and the Fantabulous Unicorn of Sugar Town Candy Fudge" NOT be interesting?
Anyway, I'll quit gushing (as one blogger put it, "Sigh, I want to marry her, but that blasted restraining order...") and let you listen to the title track off of her 2006 album, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood:
(P.S., see also the positively gut-wrenching "In California".)
Probably a year ago, I stumbled on the music of Neko Case. I don't remember how, although I think it through an indie group called The New Pornographers, with whom she was associated before making it big in her solo career.
I'm not 100% sure why her music constantly finds its way to my ears. Her hypnotizing voice and lyrics are the most likely reasons, but her off-the-beaten-path-ness is equally appealing. Both qualities are evident if you see her live: the former in her usually 3-minutes-or-less musical gems, the latter in the irregular but hilarious anecdotes you hear between songs.I mean, how could a self-described "country noir" artist with radiant, ruby hair who also the co-stars with T-Pain in an animated TV series called "Cheyenne Cinnamon and the Fantabulous Unicorn of Sugar Town Candy Fudge" NOT be interesting?
Anyway, I'll quit gushing (as one blogger put it, "Sigh, I want to marry her, but that blasted restraining order...") and let you listen to the title track off of her 2006 album, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood:
(P.S., see also the positively gut-wrenching "In California".)
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
JoshCast #26 - Fear Not Of Man
I am a pale individual. I’m no Hank Hill, but yeah, I admit that Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Beatles, and Pearl Jam compose a very significant portion of my iTunes library. But that doesn’t mean I can’t occasionally love me some hip-hop. ...uh, right?
Well, a few months ago, after a little nudge from Pandora, I bought Black on Both Sides, Mos Def’s solo debut from waaay back last MILLENIUM in 1999. That was a good decision. It’s always been perfect for when I need to get psyched up for something. Plus, it’s not without socially conscious commentary.
While "Mathematics" is almost certainly the track most people have heard of, I frequently find myself flipping back to Track 1, "Fear Not of Man". It sounds good, for one (although I’m not going to pretend to understand the dynamics of hip-hop enough to analyze why), and its lyrics resonate more to me than, say, Jay-Z’s "Big Pimpin'".
Especially: "Mind over matter and soul before flesh". Simple. Only seven words. But that’s enough... maybe brevity is the soul of wisdom, too.
OK, I’m getting too deep. On to music:
Well, a few months ago, after a little nudge from Pandora, I bought Black on Both Sides, Mos Def’s solo debut from waaay back last MILLENIUM in 1999. That was a good decision. It’s always been perfect for when I need to get psyched up for something. Plus, it’s not without socially conscious commentary.While "Mathematics" is almost certainly the track most people have heard of, I frequently find myself flipping back to Track 1, "Fear Not of Man". It sounds good, for one (although I’m not going to pretend to understand the dynamics of hip-hop enough to analyze why), and its lyrics resonate more to me than, say, Jay-Z’s "Big Pimpin'".
Especially: "Mind over matter and soul before flesh". Simple. Only seven words. But that’s enough... maybe brevity is the soul of wisdom, too.
OK, I’m getting too deep. On to music:
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
JoshCast #25 - The Adjustor
After yesterday’s foray into roadhouse Americana, it’s time to shift gears. And by "shift gears", I mean "throw it into reverse and crash the transmission."
Last Friday, I had the opportunity to witness an indescribable showcase of experimental electronic hullabaloo when Austin-based The Octopus Project took the stage of the Granada Theater. Sure, it would probably be categorized as electronica...but that doesn’t mean throbbing bass and glowsticks. No, this was a little different. Electronic beats backed by guitar, bass, drums, and some random, off-the-wall instruments.
Undoubtedly the awesomest parts of the show came when Yvonne Lambert, complete with Mary Tyler Moore hairstyle and old-school prom dress (why not?), showed off her talents on the theremin. In case you don’t know -- because I sure didn’t -- the theremin is played without even touching the thing. From Wikipedia: "The controlling section usually consists of two metal antennas which sense the position of the player's hands and control oscillators for frequency with one hand, and amplitude (volume) with the other. The electric signals from the theremin are amplified and sent to a loudspeaker."
The timbre of the theremin (at least at the show) is sort of an electrified whistle, reminiscent of a ghost. It took a while for me to realize that Yvonne’s deliberate mid-air hand motions resulted in pitch and volume changes coming from the instrument.
Anyway, it was a good time, and their music was noticeably more enjoyable than their recorded stuff. Nevertheless, here's "The Adjustor", from One Ten Hundred Thousand Million:
Last Friday, I had the opportunity to witness an indescribable showcase of experimental electronic hullabaloo when Austin-based The Octopus Project took the stage of the Granada Theater. Sure, it would probably be categorized as electronica...but that doesn’t mean throbbing bass and glowsticks. No, this was a little different. Electronic beats backed by guitar, bass, drums, and some random, off-the-wall instruments.Undoubtedly the awesomest parts of the show came when Yvonne Lambert, complete with Mary Tyler Moore hairstyle and old-school prom dress (why not?), showed off her talents on the theremin. In case you don’t know -- because I sure didn’t -- the theremin is played without even touching the thing. From Wikipedia: "The controlling section usually consists of two metal antennas which sense the position of the player's hands and control oscillators for frequency with one hand, and amplitude (volume) with the other. The electric signals from the theremin are amplified and sent to a loudspeaker."
The timbre of the theremin (at least at the show) is sort of an electrified whistle, reminiscent of a ghost. It took a while for me to realize that Yvonne’s deliberate mid-air hand motions resulted in pitch and volume changes coming from the instrument.
Anyway, it was a good time, and their music was noticeably more enjoyable than their recorded stuff. Nevertheless, here's "The Adjustor", from One Ten Hundred Thousand Million:
Monday, July 19, 2010
JoshCast #24 - Southside of Heaven
Two months since the last JoshCast. How have you survived? Fear not, because it just returned from its summer hiatus, largely due to the fact that I've found Grooveshark, another means to embed music -- a dire need after Lala was shut down at the end of May.
To make up for lost time, how about 5 new tracks...one for each day of the week? And not only that, but each one from a different corner of the music-verse? On to JoshCast #24!
--
If you've seen the movie Crazy Heart, you are aware of the sheer genius of (1) Jeff Bridges and (2) Ryan Bingham. Chances are you hadn't heard of the latter (and maybe still haven't) until he -- like Bridges -- took home an Oscar for his role in the bittersweet, whiskey-soaked drama.
Before winning that gold statue, he broke onto the country(ish) music scene in 2007 with his major label debut, Mescalito. His loose, roadhouse songwriting style, coupled with his rusty voice (think country-fried Bob Dylan), made for a real fine album. (In addition to the song I'm about to introduce, see "Bread and Water".)
As I listened to it all the way through for the first time this past weekend, I couldn't help but think of the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?, which in post-production, they filtered the colors so the whole thing had a brownish, sepia texture. True, Mescalito can only be perceived by the ear, but when listening to it, you almost can see, feel, and taste that same dusty tone.
The first track, "Southside of Heaven", is probably the highlight. Its slowburning introduction, soon joined by a gorgeous harmonica, backs lonely lyrics bellowed by Bingham's gravely voice. After a couple of verses, it slows to a smoldering pace for a moment before ending with a rousing banjo-laced finale. GREAT STUFF. Listen for yourself.
To make up for lost time, how about 5 new tracks...one for each day of the week? And not only that, but each one from a different corner of the music-verse? On to JoshCast #24!
--
If you've seen the movie Crazy Heart, you are aware of the sheer genius of (1) Jeff Bridges and (2) Ryan Bingham. Chances are you hadn't heard of the latter (and maybe still haven't) until he -- like Bridges -- took home an Oscar for his role in the bittersweet, whiskey-soaked drama.Before winning that gold statue, he broke onto the country(ish) music scene in 2007 with his major label debut, Mescalito. His loose, roadhouse songwriting style, coupled with his rusty voice (think country-fried Bob Dylan), made for a real fine album. (In addition to the song I'm about to introduce, see "Bread and Water".)
As I listened to it all the way through for the first time this past weekend, I couldn't help but think of the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?, which in post-production, they filtered the colors so the whole thing had a brownish, sepia texture. True, Mescalito can only be perceived by the ear, but when listening to it, you almost can see, feel, and taste that same dusty tone.
The first track, "Southside of Heaven", is probably the highlight. Its slowburning introduction, soon joined by a gorgeous harmonica, backs lonely lyrics bellowed by Bingham's gravely voice. After a couple of verses, it slows to a smoldering pace for a moment before ending with a rousing banjo-laced finale. GREAT STUFF. Listen for yourself.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Oh Thank Heaven
...for a 7/11 eclipse.
It may not be much of a consolation prize after finishing their World Cup quarterfinal on the wrong side of a 4-0 shelacking by the Germans, but Argentinians were among the only witnesses in the world of the last total solar eclipse until November 13, 2012 yesterday.
The path of totality (where the total eclipse was visible) tracked almost entirely over the southern Pacific Ocean, including Easter Island, but was visible just before sunset -- with the sun's angle of altitude at just 1 degree -- at Argentina's southern tip. Check out this shot:
(Link to full image)
An annular eclipse is scheduled to track over North America in May 2012, directly over the Grand Canyon on its way to the Texas panhandle just before sunset. Mark my words: I fully intend to be in one of those spots to capture the phenomenon for posterity.
And by posterity, I mean for the following 7 months. Until, you know, the end of the world. 2012 and all.
It may not be much of a consolation prize after finishing their World Cup quarterfinal on the wrong side of a 4-0 shelacking by the Germans, but Argentinians were among the only witnesses in the world of the last total solar eclipse until November 13, 2012 yesterday.
The path of totality (where the total eclipse was visible) tracked almost entirely over the southern Pacific Ocean, including Easter Island, but was visible just before sunset -- with the sun's angle of altitude at just 1 degree -- at Argentina's southern tip. Check out this shot:
(Link to full image)
An annular eclipse is scheduled to track over North America in May 2012, directly over the Grand Canyon on its way to the Texas panhandle just before sunset. Mark my words: I fully intend to be in one of those spots to capture the phenomenon for posterity.
And by posterity, I mean for the following 7 months. Until, you know, the end of the world. 2012 and all.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
You Have the Right to Remain...Online
Does speedy Internet access belong in the same arena as personal liberty, the freedom of expression, and the pursuit of happiness?
If you're Finnish, the answer is a resounding yes.
On the same day Starbucks endorsed the basic human right of Internet access (sort of) by offering free wifi to all Starbucks-goers, the entire nation of Finland followed suit by " by making broadband every Finnish citizen's legal right and ensuring that every citizen will have access to a 1Mbps broadband connection".
Who knew those Scandinavians would be the ones to push the technology envelope? Though, I can't say I'm surprised, since a quarter of my blood is Swedish. (Really. Sometimes I can't say "three" because of my latent accent trying to escape my East Texas upbringing.) Over 95% of the Finnish already have Internet access. And call me uninformed, but I didn't realize that tech giant Nokia is Finland-based.
I hinted at the implications of human rights a few months ago (see "Digital Divide") when I noted that it's extremely difficult to receive a complete education these days without decent Internet access. Those in poverty who can't afford it are at a tremendous disadvantage, and that interferes with the human right to a good education.
As our world races forward and computer and telecommunications technologies penetrate even more deeply into our societal fabric, the argument begins to involve more than a mere decent education. Inadequate Internet access will eventually interfere with our ability to function as human beings.
One blog I read had an interesting take: "I think this insults the idea of human rights a bit. Does inhibiting someone’s broadband fall into the same category as other crimes against humanity now? Surely we don’t put broadband up there with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, do we?"
But, like education, does a lack of Internet access sufficiently interfere with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness that it becomes a "right by association"? I don't know.
I wonder which countries will be the second, third, fourth dominoes to fall. And I wonder how late my US of A will be to the party.
--
"Human beings will be happier - not when they cure cancer or get to Mars or eliminate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie but when they find ways to inhabit primitive communities again. That's my utopia." -- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
If you're Finnish, the answer is a resounding yes.
On the same day Starbucks endorsed the basic human right of Internet access (sort of) by offering free wifi to all Starbucks-goers, the entire nation of Finland followed suit by " by making broadband every Finnish citizen's legal right and ensuring that every citizen will have access to a 1Mbps broadband connection".
Who knew those Scandinavians would be the ones to push the technology envelope? Though, I can't say I'm surprised, since a quarter of my blood is Swedish. (Really. Sometimes I can't say "three" because of my latent accent trying to escape my East Texas upbringing.) Over 95% of the Finnish already have Internet access. And call me uninformed, but I didn't realize that tech giant Nokia is Finland-based.I hinted at the implications of human rights a few months ago (see "Digital Divide") when I noted that it's extremely difficult to receive a complete education these days without decent Internet access. Those in poverty who can't afford it are at a tremendous disadvantage, and that interferes with the human right to a good education.
As our world races forward and computer and telecommunications technologies penetrate even more deeply into our societal fabric, the argument begins to involve more than a mere decent education. Inadequate Internet access will eventually interfere with our ability to function as human beings.
One blog I read had an interesting take: "I think this insults the idea of human rights a bit. Does inhibiting someone’s broadband fall into the same category as other crimes against humanity now? Surely we don’t put broadband up there with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, do we?"
But, like education, does a lack of Internet access sufficiently interfere with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness that it becomes a "right by association"? I don't know.
I wonder which countries will be the second, third, fourth dominoes to fall. And I wonder how late my US of A will be to the party.
--
"Human beings will be happier - not when they cure cancer or get to Mars or eliminate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie but when they find ways to inhabit primitive communities again. That's my utopia." -- Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Stuck In The Mud (Or, Storm Chasing Retrospection)
And I thought WE had a couple of close calls near Wakita, Oklahoma...
About six weeks removed from my first storm chasing expedition, I've observed this tornado season with far closer interest than years past -- and I've been pretty damn interested every year since I was 12. The reasons are many: (1) I know where to look for and how to interpret "inside" information (i.e., not The Weather Channel), (2) I'm now friends on Facebook with several chasers, and (3) it was a pretty active season anyway.
One of the more impressive videos I've seen came from a late-May outbreak in South Dakota. You probably saw this on the news, but Reed Timmer and Co. at tornadovideos.net were there to get some amazing shots:
One story I followed vicariously from afar on Facebook makes my heart-thumping chase look like a walk in a boring, tornadoless park. Last Saturday, while I was moving to a new apartment (I kinda would rather have been chasing), the tour guides from my chase (Olivier "Klipsi" Steiger and Dave Holder) and their last tour group navigated their way into the path of a supercell near Concordia, Kansas.
I've heard that the road network in central and western Kansas is less than ideal, forcing chasers to take the back roads, where not a trace of asphalt nor concrete can be found: it's ALL dirt. Rough, dusty roads are difficult enough to navigate. Add torrential rains to the mix, and you get loads of mud. Not friendly to big, bumbling vehicles like our old tour van.
I'm sure I'm leaving out details (I'm going by Klipsi's wall posts on Facebook), but this is what I gathered. After finding themselves directly in the path of a pretty substantial twister about a half-mile away, road conditions deteriorated underneath them, as they found themselves inundated in 3-5 inches of mud, completely immobile. Just how close were they? Well, their position is the white dot in the following images from radar:
See that giant hook at the southwest corner? That's where the tornado was. Even more clearly:
Image credits: Olivier Steiger, http://www.klipsi.ch
See the adjacent bright red and bright green spots? That's called a "velocity couplet", a clear sign of very strong rotation. Again, the white dot...not so far away.
At the last moment, they abandoned the van and hopped onto a passing truck, out of harm's way, and later returned to find the van relatively unharmed. But MAN, what a rush that must've been.
Now, as I've said before, this Klipsi dude's seen a lot and has lived through some pretty sticky situations. But his untouched wall post accompanying the latter radar image says it all: "and here is the velocity... couplet, anyone ? again, white ring is our stuck-in-mud position.... hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahha.... ABANDON VAN, NOW !"
From all of this, in addition to my own experiences, I draw a single conclusion: I AM SO THERE NEXT YEAR. Because sitting in front of a computer in an office is all well and good...but at some point it really starts to feel like you're stuck in the mud.
"Never. Stop. Chasing." -- Reed Timmer
About six weeks removed from my first storm chasing expedition, I've observed this tornado season with far closer interest than years past -- and I've been pretty damn interested every year since I was 12. The reasons are many: (1) I know where to look for and how to interpret "inside" information (i.e., not The Weather Channel), (2) I'm now friends on Facebook with several chasers, and (3) it was a pretty active season anyway.
One of the more impressive videos I've seen came from a late-May outbreak in South Dakota. You probably saw this on the news, but Reed Timmer and Co. at tornadovideos.net were there to get some amazing shots:
One story I followed vicariously from afar on Facebook makes my heart-thumping chase look like a walk in a boring, tornadoless park. Last Saturday, while I was moving to a new apartment (I kinda would rather have been chasing), the tour guides from my chase (Olivier "Klipsi" Steiger and Dave Holder) and their last tour group navigated their way into the path of a supercell near Concordia, Kansas.
I've heard that the road network in central and western Kansas is less than ideal, forcing chasers to take the back roads, where not a trace of asphalt nor concrete can be found: it's ALL dirt. Rough, dusty roads are difficult enough to navigate. Add torrential rains to the mix, and you get loads of mud. Not friendly to big, bumbling vehicles like our old tour van.
I'm sure I'm leaving out details (I'm going by Klipsi's wall posts on Facebook), but this is what I gathered. After finding themselves directly in the path of a pretty substantial twister about a half-mile away, road conditions deteriorated underneath them, as they found themselves inundated in 3-5 inches of mud, completely immobile. Just how close were they? Well, their position is the white dot in the following images from radar:
See that giant hook at the southwest corner? That's where the tornado was. Even more clearly:
See the adjacent bright red and bright green spots? That's called a "velocity couplet", a clear sign of very strong rotation. Again, the white dot...not so far away.
At the last moment, they abandoned the van and hopped onto a passing truck, out of harm's way, and later returned to find the van relatively unharmed. But MAN, what a rush that must've been.
Now, as I've said before, this Klipsi dude's seen a lot and has lived through some pretty sticky situations. But his untouched wall post accompanying the latter radar image says it all: "and here is the velocity... couplet, anyone ? again, white ring is our stuck-in-mud position.... hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahha.... ABANDON VAN, NOW !"
From all of this, in addition to my own experiences, I draw a single conclusion: I AM SO THERE NEXT YEAR. Because sitting in front of a computer in an office is all well and good...but at some point it really starts to feel like you're stuck in the mud.
"Never. Stop. Chasing." -- Reed Timmer
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
My Bad
The world lost a humanitarian over the weekend. A very, very, very tall humanitarian.
Manute Bol, a 7-foot 7-inch Sudanese native who played professionally in the NBA for 10 years, died on Saturday at the age of 47 as a result of kidney issues and a rare but serious skin disorder. After John Wooden, that makes two quiet basketball legends that we've lost in the month of June.
He wasn't the most capable offensive threat, but his defensive presence speaks for itself. Naturally, at such a ridiculous height (tallest in NBA history) and with an 8'6" wingspan, it was difficult for even the most gifted athletes to loft a jump shot or layup over his outstretched hand. He averaged 8.6 blocks per 48 minutes, an NBA record that far outpaces any other freakishly tall player.
Sure, before Saturday, Manute Bol was simply the answer to a trivia question to me. But he was so much more than that to so many other people. Kevin Blackistone recounts his charitable efforts to help save his homeland from the evils of war, building schools, donating money, and giving hope to millions:
"Bol, mostly alone, was using his spare time away from his day job -- blocking shots and shooting three-pointers as a 7-feet-7-inch NBA center -- trying to save the young people in his native war-torn Sudan. He was a Dinka tribesman, a people in southern Sudan that in the early 1980s suffered displacement and massacre not unlike what the people of Darfur have gone through the past several years. ...
"Bol supported the rebel movement by giving it an estimated $3.5 million. He lobbied members of Congress for U.S. intervention against what he thought were northern Sudan extremists. In 1996, a cease-fire was achieved."
Obviously, these were his most important contributions as a human being, but Bol apparently changed the world of linguistics, of all things, by unofficially coining the colloquial phrase, "My bad". The earliest sources in 1989 credit Bol with saying the phrase as a substitute for "My fault", or something of the like. I suppose this sort of grammatical quirk is natural, coming from a man whose first language was certainly not English.
That was over twenty years ago, and here we are today. "My bad" is heard all over the country (world?) on asphalt slabs that host pickup basketball games, and it certainly has permeated our language beyond the basketball courts. But does it have staying power, like the word "cool"? Dr. Larry Horn, a linguistic professor from Yale University, explores:
"It's hard to predict which words or phrases will stick. 'Cool' is one example of a word that filled a need. It's been around since at least the 1940s--it probably began with jazz musicians. It filled a slot that no other word really filled. But 'My bad'? We already have 'My fault,' so I don't know if there's a real need for it."
I disagree. But get back to me in 2050.
Manute Bol, a 7-foot 7-inch Sudanese native who played professionally in the NBA for 10 years, died on Saturday at the age of 47 as a result of kidney issues and a rare but serious skin disorder. After John Wooden, that makes two quiet basketball legends that we've lost in the month of June.He wasn't the most capable offensive threat, but his defensive presence speaks for itself. Naturally, at such a ridiculous height (tallest in NBA history) and with an 8'6" wingspan, it was difficult for even the most gifted athletes to loft a jump shot or layup over his outstretched hand. He averaged 8.6 blocks per 48 minutes, an NBA record that far outpaces any other freakishly tall player.
Sure, before Saturday, Manute Bol was simply the answer to a trivia question to me. But he was so much more than that to so many other people. Kevin Blackistone recounts his charitable efforts to help save his homeland from the evils of war, building schools, donating money, and giving hope to millions:
"Bol, mostly alone, was using his spare time away from his day job -- blocking shots and shooting three-pointers as a 7-feet-7-inch NBA center -- trying to save the young people in his native war-torn Sudan. He was a Dinka tribesman, a people in southern Sudan that in the early 1980s suffered displacement and massacre not unlike what the people of Darfur have gone through the past several years. ..."Bol supported the rebel movement by giving it an estimated $3.5 million. He lobbied members of Congress for U.S. intervention against what he thought were northern Sudan extremists. In 1996, a cease-fire was achieved."
Obviously, these were his most important contributions as a human being, but Bol apparently changed the world of linguistics, of all things, by unofficially coining the colloquial phrase, "My bad". The earliest sources in 1989 credit Bol with saying the phrase as a substitute for "My fault", or something of the like. I suppose this sort of grammatical quirk is natural, coming from a man whose first language was certainly not English.
That was over twenty years ago, and here we are today. "My bad" is heard all over the country (world?) on asphalt slabs that host pickup basketball games, and it certainly has permeated our language beyond the basketball courts. But does it have staying power, like the word "cool"? Dr. Larry Horn, a linguistic professor from Yale University, explores:
"It's hard to predict which words or phrases will stick. 'Cool' is one example of a word that filled a need. It's been around since at least the 1940s--it probably began with jazz musicians. It filled a slot that no other word really filled. But 'My bad'? We already have 'My fault,' so I don't know if there's a real need for it."
I disagree. But get back to me in 2050.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Pop's Day
Channeling the Man in Black to honor all the dads out there on Fathers' Day:
By the way Pop, if you're reading this, thanks for not naming me Sue.
By the way Pop, if you're reading this, thanks for not naming me Sue.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Filling Holes
Self-discovery can come slowly. And sometimes, even if it feels like you’re close to a breakthrough, you can be miles away without realizing it. On the other hand, if it feels miles away, you could be knocking on the door.
I experienced an epiphany a few weeks ago. Out of nowhere, a pastor who I know quite well extended an invitation for me to become a youth counselor. The possibility intrigued me, but I hesitated for obvious reasons:
(1) Could I give such a position the time and attention it deserves? (2) Was I ready to bear the responsibility of being a powerful influence over a child or teen? (3) Would I be able to say the right things in any given situation? (4) I do the church thing occasionally but definitely have a long way to go. Did I have the spiritual knowledge, etc., to qualify me for this gig?
All valid concerns, but the pastor gave me an entirely different reason to question myself. After addressing the above points, he cautioned, “If you want to do this in order to fill a hole in your life, then it’s likely that this isn’t right for you.”
Since hearing those words, I’ve pondered them frequently, trying to understand exactly what they meant. Immediately, they made sense in the context of my decision. Still meandering down the path of self-discovery and maturity, it was apparent that one of the reasons I was considering the counselorship was indeed to fill a hole in my life. As such, I would risk becoming overly dependent on the satisfaction I might get from the position (or maybe overly exasperated) to the point where it might adversely affect my ability to carry out my responsibilities. It was quickly obvious to me that I should pass.
Then, I began to generalize this idea. There are probably many serious undertakings in which a similar approach should be made: if you’re doing something simply to fill a void, then you should think twice about going through with it. Relationships come to mind. So do other forms of volunteering and, in certain contexts, career moves. In each of these situations, it’s healthier to develop a stronger foundation first, at which point you’re ready to tackle the implications of filling the “larger” holes.
However, using this philosophy as a universal reason to avoid trying new things in general is an overcautious way to live, to be sure. Besides, if you follow this too strictly, you end up in a catch-22 situation. How can you fill the holes in your life if you need to be “hole-less” before you are qualified to fill them? By that logic, you’re stuck in an unending cycle.
I think you can draw the line here: if an attempt to fill a hole by taking on a new challenge might significantly affect others’ lives, to the point where a sudden change or your overdependence on the presence of that challenge could negatively affect others around you, then you should think more carefully.
So here was my conclusion: say you’re meandering down that path of self-discovery, still working to fill certain holes in your life. First, aim to seal the smaller holes with individual tasks and responsibilities. Eventually, and naturally, you’ll be able to do things like a youth counselorship -- or any of those important things you could use to fill the “larger” holes.
At least now, I’m still early in my journey, and at times the road to self-discovery seems miles, counties, states away. But as far as I know, maybe it’s just around the bend. And while the holes may at times seem as gaping as that sinkhole in Guatemala City a few weeks ago, maybe they’re just a little more manageable.
I experienced an epiphany a few weeks ago. Out of nowhere, a pastor who I know quite well extended an invitation for me to become a youth counselor. The possibility intrigued me, but I hesitated for obvious reasons:(1) Could I give such a position the time and attention it deserves? (2) Was I ready to bear the responsibility of being a powerful influence over a child or teen? (3) Would I be able to say the right things in any given situation? (4) I do the church thing occasionally but definitely have a long way to go. Did I have the spiritual knowledge, etc., to qualify me for this gig?
All valid concerns, but the pastor gave me an entirely different reason to question myself. After addressing the above points, he cautioned, “If you want to do this in order to fill a hole in your life, then it’s likely that this isn’t right for you.”
Since hearing those words, I’ve pondered them frequently, trying to understand exactly what they meant. Immediately, they made sense in the context of my decision. Still meandering down the path of self-discovery and maturity, it was apparent that one of the reasons I was considering the counselorship was indeed to fill a hole in my life. As such, I would risk becoming overly dependent on the satisfaction I might get from the position (or maybe overly exasperated) to the point where it might adversely affect my ability to carry out my responsibilities. It was quickly obvious to me that I should pass.
Then, I began to generalize this idea. There are probably many serious undertakings in which a similar approach should be made: if you’re doing something simply to fill a void, then you should think twice about going through with it. Relationships come to mind. So do other forms of volunteering and, in certain contexts, career moves. In each of these situations, it’s healthier to develop a stronger foundation first, at which point you’re ready to tackle the implications of filling the “larger” holes.
However, using this philosophy as a universal reason to avoid trying new things in general is an overcautious way to live, to be sure. Besides, if you follow this too strictly, you end up in a catch-22 situation. How can you fill the holes in your life if you need to be “hole-less” before you are qualified to fill them? By that logic, you’re stuck in an unending cycle.
I think you can draw the line here: if an attempt to fill a hole by taking on a new challenge might significantly affect others’ lives, to the point where a sudden change or your overdependence on the presence of that challenge could negatively affect others around you, then you should think more carefully.
So here was my conclusion: say you’re meandering down that path of self-discovery, still working to fill certain holes in your life. First, aim to seal the smaller holes with individual tasks and responsibilities. Eventually, and naturally, you’ll be able to do things like a youth counselorship -- or any of those important things you could use to fill the “larger” holes.
At least now, I’m still early in my journey, and at times the road to self-discovery seems miles, counties, states away. But as far as I know, maybe it’s just around the bend. And while the holes may at times seem as gaping as that sinkhole in Guatemala City a few weeks ago, maybe they’re just a little more manageable.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Slow Down
The skyrocketing fox population in rural England apparently is cause for concern among speeding automobilers:
Which obviously begs the question: what OTHER hilarious signs are out there to entertain us on those lonely highways?
I think this one's my favorite, but I have no idea why:
Which obviously begs the question: what OTHER hilarious signs are out there to entertain us on those lonely highways?
I think this one's my favorite, but I have no idea why:
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Stir It Up
Hurricane season started today. Uh oh.The Atlantic Basin got a little bit of a reprieve last year: only nine named storms and three hurricanes. And on top of that, the hurricanes were named "Bill", "Fred", and "Ida". I mean come on, did anyone REALLY feel threatened by that?
People way smarter than me are predicting much more activity in the coming months. Water temperatures are at record highs. On top of that, a weak El Nino is depriving the atmosphere of strong upper-level winds necessary for wind shear, which is really effective at ripping the heart out of tropical cyclones before they can get their juices really flowing. Add it all up, and NOAA is predicting up to 14 hurricanes, 7 Category 3 or higher.
All of that could translate to one of the more active seasons in history -- although hopefully nothing ever outdoes 2005, which spawned monster after monster in the Gulf of Mexico (Katrina, Rita, Wilma) en route to running out of names, forcing us to use the Greek alphabet to name storms 22-27.
And that's not even speaking of the BP oil spill off the coast of Louisiana (Day 43 and counting). Sure doesn't sound good, does it? Could the spill throw a monkey wrench into the 2010 hurricane season, or vice versa?
NOAA released a nice little write-up on the subject. There are a lot of variables and possible outcomes. The spill probably wouldn't have much effect on hurricane development. On the other hand, a hurricane could actually disperse the oil more quickly by chopping up the water with high winds and seas. Or it could drive the oil inland via storm surge, depending on the track of the storm.
The worst storm surge is typically found in the eastern eyewall. Think about it: if the storm is rotating counter-clockwise (as it always will in the northern hemisphere), then the eastern side of the circulation is where seawater would most forcefully be pushed onto shore. Thus, if a hurricane slammed Louisiana, bypassing the oil slick slightly to the west, the results could be disastrous for the Louisiana wetlands. On the other hand, if one were to track over the Florida panhandle, the oil could be pushed back into the Gulf.It seems unlikely that this question will go unanswered for too long. But you never know: ironically, maybe a couple of good tropical cyclones is all the Gulf needs to more quickly rid itself of this disaster.
P.S. On a related note, as I was browsing aimlessly through Wikipedia earlier tonight, I found this picture of a Hurricane Hunter flying in the middle of Katrina's eye. Is that not the craziest thing you've ever seen?---
ADDENDUM: A new report released today estimates that the oil will invade the Atlantic coast of Florida "within weeks" and disperse through the Atlantic basin by the end of July. Helpful animation:
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
On Paper
It’s a common expression in sports, but it reaches far beyond mere competition into the deepest crevices of life and philosophy.
"On paper", the New York Yankees should win the World Series every single year. "On paper", the undefeated New England Patriots should have steamrolled the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLIV. "On paper", my Dallas Mavericks, having won at least 50 games each and every season in the last decade, should have won at least ONE championship. (A pain I am way too familiar with.)
What exactly does that mean? An outcome of a given situation is predictable based on the logical assessment of “paper”, a symbolic representation of hard facts, statistics, and data.
Of course, we all know you can’t rely only on paper. There are intangibles involved with EVERYTHING. That’s why each of the three above assertions turns out to be false. I often quote ESPN personality Chris Berman: “THAT'S why they play the game.”
It’s difficult to describe what these “intangibles” are. Randomness. Chance. A “human” element (as in, “humans aren’t perfect”).
Unfortunately for left-brained creatures like me who give enormous weight to fact, reason, and rationality, life in general resembles sports in this respect. Just when you have something completely figured out, to the point where you’re absolutely CERTAIN of the outcome of a given situation, life throws you a curveball. On paper, THIS should happen. But in reality, THAT happens instead.
Example 1: If you saw the season six finale of "House" last week (spoiler alert!), you saw the usually invincible diagnostician do everything right to save the life of a woman whose leg had been crushed when a building collapsed. Yet, as the woman, her husband, and Dr. House hurry in an ambulance to the hospital, her pulse vanishes, and she dies. This turns out to be a culmination of emotion and frustration for Dr. House, much of which involves the remainder of the plot -- I won't get into that. The important part is that he "did everything right", and she still died. As a writer pointed out in an interview: "If you do the right thing in the world, good should come out of it. House is trying to learn that lesson, and it hadn’t worked out so well for him. And here, he does everything right, and she dies anyway." The woman should have lived. But she didn't.
Example 2: Two people meet and are in the midst of establishing a relationship. They share like interests, values, intellect, and personalities: everything that should result in a healthy relationship...on paper. And yet, time passes, and it doesn’t pan out, due to some intangible quality that’s missing on one side or the other. There's no explanation. What makes it so frustrating is not so much that you can't "fix" it, but you can't even begin to explain why it didn't work.
Example 3: On our last chase day during my storm chasing expedition, we patiently waited in western Oklahoma for a tornadic storm to develop. (Almost) every parameter was screaming that a developing storm was on its way to producing a tornado. And then, on the precipice of exploding into a monster, it fell apart in less than a half-hour. There was no reason for this to happen...or at least no reason that we simpleton meteorologists could comprehend.
It sure is frustrating: If X and Y are true when I encounter this situation, then I can expect that Z will most certainly happen. Sometimes, it feels like an invasion of our personal sense of control: if I have control over X and Y in order to make Z happen, and then Z didn't happen, did I really have control over X and Y to begin with?
Then, I realized that this principle hints at one of my most tightly held philosophies. There seem to be two competing forces in life. Logic and reason have important roles, and most of the time -- probably nearly all of the time, in fact -- they will lead you in the right direction and correctly “predict” what will happen. But logic and reason simply cannot explain everything, due to these “intangibles” that lead to unpredictable conclusions. There’s something else out there, something beyond our comprehension, that directly contradicts logic and reason. Or maybe it doesn't contradict logic and reason, but it's so far over our head we just can't understand it. Whatever it is, it sure makes life difficult for hopelessly left-brained people like me.
I’m not sure if any of that makes any sense. Maybe I should just leave philosophy behind and stick to storm chasing.
"On paper", the New York Yankees should win the World Series every single year. "On paper", the undefeated New England Patriots should have steamrolled the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLIV. "On paper", my Dallas Mavericks, having won at least 50 games each and every season in the last decade, should have won at least ONE championship. (A pain I am way too familiar with.)
What exactly does that mean? An outcome of a given situation is predictable based on the logical assessment of “paper”, a symbolic representation of hard facts, statistics, and data.
Of course, we all know you can’t rely only on paper. There are intangibles involved with EVERYTHING. That’s why each of the three above assertions turns out to be false. I often quote ESPN personality Chris Berman: “THAT'S why they play the game.”
It’s difficult to describe what these “intangibles” are. Randomness. Chance. A “human” element (as in, “humans aren’t perfect”).
Unfortunately for left-brained creatures like me who give enormous weight to fact, reason, and rationality, life in general resembles sports in this respect. Just when you have something completely figured out, to the point where you’re absolutely CERTAIN of the outcome of a given situation, life throws you a curveball. On paper, THIS should happen. But in reality, THAT happens instead.
Example 1: If you saw the season six finale of "House" last week (spoiler alert!), you saw the usually invincible diagnostician do everything right to save the life of a woman whose leg had been crushed when a building collapsed. Yet, as the woman, her husband, and Dr. House hurry in an ambulance to the hospital, her pulse vanishes, and she dies. This turns out to be a culmination of emotion and frustration for Dr. House, much of which involves the remainder of the plot -- I won't get into that. The important part is that he "did everything right", and she still died. As a writer pointed out in an interview: "If you do the right thing in the world, good should come out of it. House is trying to learn that lesson, and it hadn’t worked out so well for him. And here, he does everything right, and she dies anyway." The woman should have lived. But she didn't.Example 2: Two people meet and are in the midst of establishing a relationship. They share like interests, values, intellect, and personalities: everything that should result in a healthy relationship...on paper. And yet, time passes, and it doesn’t pan out, due to some intangible quality that’s missing on one side or the other. There's no explanation. What makes it so frustrating is not so much that you can't "fix" it, but you can't even begin to explain why it didn't work.
Example 3: On our last chase day during my storm chasing expedition, we patiently waited in western Oklahoma for a tornadic storm to develop. (Almost) every parameter was screaming that a developing storm was on its way to producing a tornado. And then, on the precipice of exploding into a monster, it fell apart in less than a half-hour. There was no reason for this to happen...or at least no reason that we simpleton meteorologists could comprehend.
It sure is frustrating: If X and Y are true when I encounter this situation, then I can expect that Z will most certainly happen. Sometimes, it feels like an invasion of our personal sense of control: if I have control over X and Y in order to make Z happen, and then Z didn't happen, did I really have control over X and Y to begin with?
Then, I realized that this principle hints at one of my most tightly held philosophies. There seem to be two competing forces in life. Logic and reason have important roles, and most of the time -- probably nearly all of the time, in fact -- they will lead you in the right direction and correctly “predict” what will happen. But logic and reason simply cannot explain everything, due to these “intangibles” that lead to unpredictable conclusions. There’s something else out there, something beyond our comprehension, that directly contradicts logic and reason. Or maybe it doesn't contradict logic and reason, but it's so far over our head we just can't understand it. Whatever it is, it sure makes life difficult for hopelessly left-brained people like me.
I’m not sure if any of that makes any sense. Maybe I should just leave philosophy behind and stick to storm chasing.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
JoshCast #23 - The High Road
I heard "The High Road" for the first time on Radio Austin at work the other day and found it oddly catchy. I didn't particularly LOVE it the first time I heard it, but found myself silently singing the chorus hours later.
"The High Road" is the single off of Broken Bells's self-titled album, released a couple of months ago. And oh, by the way, Broken Bells is yet another "super-collaboration", this time between Danger Mouse and James Mercer (right), lead singer of The Shins. (If they ever make a movie about Mercer, might I suggest that Kevin Spacey play the starring role?)
If only the song ended more strongly! That's my only complaint. Still, the first three minutes are worth your while:
"The High Road" is the single off of Broken Bells's self-titled album, released a couple of months ago. And oh, by the way, Broken Bells is yet another "super-collaboration", this time between Danger Mouse and James Mercer (right), lead singer of The Shins. (If they ever make a movie about Mercer, might I suggest that Kevin Spacey play the starring role?)If only the song ended more strongly! That's my only complaint. Still, the first three minutes are worth your while:
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Now I'm No Hot-Shot Politician...
Let's face it. After two weeks of storm chasing stories, I'm due for a snoozer.
I don't have any facts. All I have to go by is The Daily Show (NOT fact) and a personal account from a lawyer (also, probably NOT fact) familiar with one of the most sweeping pieces of legislation in American history, the The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.
I'm not here to debate whether I think health care should be controlled or facilitated by the government (*ahem*, it should), because I don't want to alienate my single-digit audience. But I am here to present an example of why, as constructed, the bill might not work like it's supposed to.
One of the provisions of the health care bill provides for a Qualifying Therapeutic Discovery Project Credit. In shorthand, this is a provision that sets aside $1 billion for tax credits or grants for small biotechnology companies (less than 250 employees). Such credits/grants would reimburse companies for 50% of selected expenses incurred from 2009-2010 associated with projects that develop homegrown technologies that address some kind of healthcare need.
So it's designed to help domestic small business, which is the target of countless legislation over the years.
Sounds great, right?
Well, think about it. You're technically reimbursing companies for work they've ALREADY DONE, not work that they're GOING TO DO. I suppose that helps the pocketbooks of small business that are hurting, but is it the best way to encourage new growth? In fact, according to the lawyer I spoke with, companies that are out of business have every right to apply for this credit. And companies that are out of business tend to not grow.
I have to stress: I don't know all the facts, and I've unfortunately become so disenchanted with such debates that I don't have the desire to learn all of the facts. And problems like this are probably inevitable given the scope of the problem the government is trying to solve, the insane time constraints, and the compromises that are made to appease various political factions. I suppose we can trust that the committees that decide to whom to grant these credits chooses wisely.
But wouldn't it be better to reward future efforts than past efforts while we're on the road to recovery?
Hooray America!
I don't have any facts. All I have to go by is The Daily Show (NOT fact) and a personal account from a lawyer (also, probably NOT fact) familiar with one of the most sweeping pieces of legislation in American history, the The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act.
I'm not here to debate whether I think health care should be controlled or facilitated by the government (*ahem*, it should), because I don't want to alienate my single-digit audience. But I am here to present an example of why, as constructed, the bill might not work like it's supposed to.
One of the provisions of the health care bill provides for a Qualifying Therapeutic Discovery Project Credit. In shorthand, this is a provision that sets aside $1 billion for tax credits or grants for small biotechnology companies (less than 250 employees). Such credits/grants would reimburse companies for 50% of selected expenses incurred from 2009-2010 associated with projects that develop homegrown technologies that address some kind of healthcare need.
So it's designed to help domestic small business, which is the target of countless legislation over the years.
Sounds great, right?
Well, think about it. You're technically reimbursing companies for work they've ALREADY DONE, not work that they're GOING TO DO. I suppose that helps the pocketbooks of small business that are hurting, but is it the best way to encourage new growth? In fact, according to the lawyer I spoke with, companies that are out of business have every right to apply for this credit. And companies that are out of business tend to not grow.
I have to stress: I don't know all the facts, and I've unfortunately become so disenchanted with such debates that I don't have the desire to learn all of the facts. And problems like this are probably inevitable given the scope of the problem the government is trying to solve, the insane time constraints, and the compromises that are made to appease various political factions. I suppose we can trust that the committees that decide to whom to grant these credits chooses wisely.
But wouldn't it be better to reward future efforts than past efforts while we're on the road to recovery?
Hooray America!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
"It Never Touched The Ground"
You'd think ten lengthy blog posts would be enough to cover my week-long storm-chasing excursion. Not so. I'm about to take this thing "all the way to eleven" (any Spinal Tap fans out there...?). And then, that'll be all...and not a moment too soon, as I'm sure by now you've had just about enough of my twister-related drivel.
As I meandered out of my hotel room into the lobby on Tuesday morning, I crossed paths with none other than Tim Samaras, yet ANOTHER renowed storm chaser. Later that morning in the parking lot, we actually got to shake his hand and shoot the breeze (no pun intended) about the week's action. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that I've met so many leaders in the field this week.
The day is looking far calmer than Monday, according to forecasts. The only real shot at supercellular activity will be found in west Oklahoma. If anything does fire, it will be a single isolated cell, and enough ingredients will be in place for it to really explode.
But not until late afternoon/evening. In the meantime, we tour the damage caused by the tornadoes that ripped through Norman and Shawnee the day before. Trees down, powerline poles snapped, roofs covered in blue tarp...it's a sad sight to see. A Love's gas station west of Shawnee takes the blue ribbon as the most sobering sight:
Someone later told us that, moments before the tornado hit, around 30 people had been wandering in the store or near the gas pumps. A trucker, aware of the situation, pulled in and urged everyone to take cover. Everyone piled into the store's cooler/freezer, and as a result, all were unharmed.
After lunch at Applebee's (again), we cruise to Elk City in western Oklahoma and wait for the action to begin. A strong cap, or layer of warm, dry air, is hindering convective development. But we're patient: sooner or later, one of these storms is bound to explode. Sure enough, we drive southward and find a supercell in the beginning stages of development:
We spot all of the classic features of a supercell: cloud base, striations, anvil, small hail core. Even mammatus clouds begin to form faintly on the underside of the anvil:
Oddly, this is about as advanced as the storm gets. Just as the storm is severe-warned, it begins to fall apart and is replaced by blue skies in under a half-hour. This confuses all of us, even our meteorologist Dave. Just goes to show we still have a lot to learn.
It's pretty late in the day now, about 7pm, and we're starting to run low on daylight. If we're going to see anything, it had better fire quickly. A cluster of storms begin to form north of us by about 40 miles. Our next target. Luckily, these storms are plodding along at about 20 mph -- a far cry from Monday's storms, which raced at over 70 mph, too fast to catch.
We cross paths with Reed and the Dominator, and follow them into back roads southeast of Woodward. And when I say back roads, I mean BACK roads:
After maybe 15 minutes, we find a clearing at the top of a hill, just southeast of the storm, with no signs of civilization around. The PERFECT vantage point for watching a tornado...if only the darn thing would drop:
Can you imagine? A dark funnel descending from the heavens, backlit by twilight? Alas, it didn't happen, and soon, it's too dark to keep the chase alive. So close.
We're behind Reed and the Dominator still, and we are forced to lag behind as they wrap up shooting with the Discovery Channel. (I observed what happened from afar and am in-the-know on some storylines for the show Storm Chasers. But the Discovery Channel crew are pretty serious, and I rather enjoy living, so I better not divulge the details.) Afterwards, we have just enough energy for one last pose before we make the three-hour drive back to Oklahoma City:
After one last midnight meal at Denny's, Klipsi traces a famous line from the movie Twister in the back window of our dust-covered van (these guys were quoting Twister ALL WEEK LONG):
Fitting, since our last tornado never actually did touch the ground.
This whole expedition has been nothing short of amazing, especially after the action started on Monday. I can now proudly say that I HAVE done something crazy in my life...a dozen years ahead of Ray Kinsella. But this has, predictably, developed a strong hunger in me to keep this insanity going. Returning to normal life has been somewhat of a rude awakening, and not just because I was returning from a vacation.
I HAVE to do this again...and next time I can do so more knowledgeably. Mark my words, one day I will chase on my own.
And if a tornado is barreling towards me, I WON'T have locked my keys in my car.
Image credit: Olivier Staiger, www.klipsi.ch
As I meandered out of my hotel room into the lobby on Tuesday morning, I crossed paths with none other than Tim Samaras, yet ANOTHER renowed storm chaser. Later that morning in the parking lot, we actually got to shake his hand and shoot the breeze (no pun intended) about the week's action. I'm still trying to comprehend the fact that I've met so many leaders in the field this week.
The day is looking far calmer than Monday, according to forecasts. The only real shot at supercellular activity will be found in west Oklahoma. If anything does fire, it will be a single isolated cell, and enough ingredients will be in place for it to really explode.
But not until late afternoon/evening. In the meantime, we tour the damage caused by the tornadoes that ripped through Norman and Shawnee the day before. Trees down, powerline poles snapped, roofs covered in blue tarp...it's a sad sight to see. A Love's gas station west of Shawnee takes the blue ribbon as the most sobering sight:
Someone later told us that, moments before the tornado hit, around 30 people had been wandering in the store or near the gas pumps. A trucker, aware of the situation, pulled in and urged everyone to take cover. Everyone piled into the store's cooler/freezer, and as a result, all were unharmed.
After lunch at Applebee's (again), we cruise to Elk City in western Oklahoma and wait for the action to begin. A strong cap, or layer of warm, dry air, is hindering convective development. But we're patient: sooner or later, one of these storms is bound to explode. Sure enough, we drive southward and find a supercell in the beginning stages of development:
We spot all of the classic features of a supercell: cloud base, striations, anvil, small hail core. Even mammatus clouds begin to form faintly on the underside of the anvil:
Oddly, this is about as advanced as the storm gets. Just as the storm is severe-warned, it begins to fall apart and is replaced by blue skies in under a half-hour. This confuses all of us, even our meteorologist Dave. Just goes to show we still have a lot to learn.
It's pretty late in the day now, about 7pm, and we're starting to run low on daylight. If we're going to see anything, it had better fire quickly. A cluster of storms begin to form north of us by about 40 miles. Our next target. Luckily, these storms are plodding along at about 20 mph -- a far cry from Monday's storms, which raced at over 70 mph, too fast to catch.
We cross paths with Reed and the Dominator, and follow them into back roads southeast of Woodward. And when I say back roads, I mean BACK roads:
After maybe 15 minutes, we find a clearing at the top of a hill, just southeast of the storm, with no signs of civilization around. The PERFECT vantage point for watching a tornado...if only the darn thing would drop:
Can you imagine? A dark funnel descending from the heavens, backlit by twilight? Alas, it didn't happen, and soon, it's too dark to keep the chase alive. So close.
We're behind Reed and the Dominator still, and we are forced to lag behind as they wrap up shooting with the Discovery Channel. (I observed what happened from afar and am in-the-know on some storylines for the show Storm Chasers. But the Discovery Channel crew are pretty serious, and I rather enjoy living, so I better not divulge the details.) Afterwards, we have just enough energy for one last pose before we make the three-hour drive back to Oklahoma City:
After one last midnight meal at Denny's, Klipsi traces a famous line from the movie Twister in the back window of our dust-covered van (these guys were quoting Twister ALL WEEK LONG):
Fitting, since our last tornado never actually did touch the ground.
This whole expedition has been nothing short of amazing, especially after the action started on Monday. I can now proudly say that I HAVE done something crazy in my life...a dozen years ahead of Ray Kinsella. But this has, predictably, developed a strong hunger in me to keep this insanity going. Returning to normal life has been somewhat of a rude awakening, and not just because I was returning from a vacation.
I HAVE to do this again...and next time I can do so more knowledgeably. Mark my words, one day I will chase on my own.
And if a tornado is barreling towards me, I WON'T have locked my keys in my car.
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