Showdown

After decades of playing silly product placement games and receiving swooning contestant kisses, The Price is Right's Bob Barker is going to retire. This is very sad news as it will change irrevocably my lifelong dream of attending a taping. I'm sure that without Bob things will change. The network will try to jazz it up, modernize it, do something new to attract new viewers. [Does anyone else remember Wheel of Fortune in the Chuck Woolery days, where contestants bought items as they circled by?) I have never harbored delusions of success on game shows, but on this one every person in the audience stands a chance. I know, I know, only a small portion of the Price is Right audience ultimately is called to the front. Then you have to make clever use of the $1 bid or not go with the lemmings and overbid before you get to play a game with Bob, then spin the big wheel (I admit, that's my favorite part) and then if all goes really well you get to make wildly unrealistic bids on the Showcase Showdown. Still, I'd like to have a shot. Have you ever seen an episode where the winner took home both showcases only to be followed by a reminder to spay or neuter your pets? I have. And I am here to tell you there will never be anything like it again on television. Pure cheesy joy paired with responsible pet guardianship. Love it.

PS Happy Halloween

Students

We had a reception at school last night to honor Hersh Waxman, who left us this year to go to A&M. It was a lovely event, and very nice to get so many of the doctoral students together, all looking quite spiffy, I might add.


Joining me in this picture with Dr. Waxman are Donna, Jay, Becky, David, Brenda, Gregg, Allegra, Blanca, Kevin, Jeff, Liz, David, Deb, Peter, Khalilah, Carlos, Gloria, Robin, Lynette, Seth, Brent, Dai, and Karen. A few others from the 03, 04, and 05 cohorts missed the photo or couldn't join us that night but were with us in spirit as we thanked Dr. Waxman for all he has done for us. As our gift said, we will miss him.

Fantasy

Do you remember Schoolhouse Rock's sad little wannabe law, Bill?

I'm just a bill
Yes, I'm only a bill
And if they vote for me on Capitol Hill
Well, then I'm off to the White House
Where I'll wait in a line
With a lot of other bills
For the president to sign
And if he signs me, then I'll be a law.
How I hope and pray that he will,
But today I am still just a bill.

Well, it's your chance to make Bill's dream a reality. It's time for Fantasy Congress! Join a league now and draft a team of hot shot legislators as they try to push their bills through committee, gain favor with the power players, and avoid veto.

I haven't been this excited about the goings on in Congress in a long time. Maybe next we can play Fantasy Presidential Cabinet or better yet Fantasy President. Oh wait, that game goes under a different name: Election 2008. (Sadly, unlike Fantasy Congress, there is little chance for interim participation in Election 2008, apart from polls.)

It's just a fantasy
It's not the real thing
But sometimes a fantasy
Is all you need
--Sometimes a Fantasy, by Billie Joel

Creeping

From the New York Times comes this innocuous yet thought provoking news: Entrees Reach $40, and, Sorry, the Sides Are Extra (see story). Have you been to a restaurant with a menu featuring a $40 entree? I will be on the lookout, though my haunts are not likely to indulge this whim. I want to know what single entree in the real world is worth paying that much for. Are we just being swindled? How much are these places paying their wait staff? My optimist's brain tells me such restaurants actually pay all employees a living wage (dish washers included). That is probably a delusion.

[W]hat makes the rise of the $40 entree so significant is not just the price creep, it’s the sophisticated calculation behind it. A new breed of menu “engineers” have proved that highly priced entrees increase revenue even if no one orders them. A $43 entree makes a $36 one look like a deal.

At that, I am rendered mute.

Cookie

I'm a big fan of Thich Nhat Hanh and of the wonders of mindfulness. Here's a lovely introduction to the two, from one of his books:

When I was four years old, my mother used to bring me a cookie every time she came home from the market. I always went to the front yard and took my time eating it, sometimes half an hour or forty-five minutes for one cookie. I would take a small bite and look up at the sky. Then I would touch the dog with my feet and take another small bite. I just enjoyed being there, with the sky, the earth, the bamboo thickets, the cat, the dog, the flowers. I was able to do that because I did not have much to worry about. I did not think of the future, I did not regret the past. I was entirely in the present moment, with my cookie, the dog, the bamboo thickets, the cat, and everything. It is possible to eat our meals as slowly and joyfully as I ate the cookie of my childhood. Maybe you have the impression that you have lost the cookie of your childhood, but I am sure it is still there, somewhere in your heart. Everything is still there, and if you really want it, you can find it.

Variety

Rain and wind lull my California brain into thinking it is winter and there is need for a cup of hot tea and a blankie on the sofa. Alas, these needs were not to be associated with today's tropical deluge in Houston. The rain did mean that my break time would be indoors though, and I sought out appropriate leisure activities (laundry would have been a useful break from work, but the rainy weather would have rendered my efforts moot). Of today's amusements, I would heartily recommend a bit of loud music (of the classical and metal varieties), some new television (brought to me by my newly reunited friend Timminy Tivo), and a healthy dose of new math reading. If you check out only one of the above links, make it the new math. Utterly delightful.

Stuffed

My head is full. Mutti sternly corrected us at dinner one time that we were not "full" but "sated." My thoughts this weekend have wandered from deadlines to fantasy fiction, hunger to indulgence, nostalgia to hurt. Amid the stacks of coursework and visions of laundromats that confront me there are pangs of anxieties and hormones (dear god, I have those?). As of this morning there are even golf balls in my head. I'm stuffed, and that is not a feeling of being sated. Thoughts are consumed by action. Today's lesson: think less, do more.

News

Have I ever been happier by a headline related to President Bush? Breaking news on the New York Times this morning:

Bush Condemns North Korea, but Says Diplomacy Is Focus

It's gray outside and I sense the potential for cool fall weather soon. I lingered over my breakfast this morning knowing I had no appointment to hurry me out the door. Even the incessant thumping rhythm of a hydraulic pump across the street has ended its weeks-long torture on my ears (and heartbeat). This Monday is looking better than many in a long while.

Fiction

It's sharing time. During sharing time we sit and listen and don't pass judgment and may or may not care about the contents, but we listen on anyway, because it's polite. This is all a long way of saying I have no point today, no rant deserving of the soapbox, and am divulging something of a guilty pleasure for which I would rather not get any grief about. :)

It's been a long semester already. Work and life have taken my mind off fun at various moments, and so when I have time for fun I actually want it to be, well, fun. Descriptive enough for ya? I've had more coherent days, it's true. The new television season has held little if any allure, and I've not seen a movie in ages. So the time I might otherwise have spent in one of those amusements has been focused on reading. As if reading articles and books and data sets is not enough to fatigue my eyes I have recently devoured an 850 page novel. And what is quite sad (or sadly tempting) is the fact that it is the first in a series, each of which is as long or longer than the first. I am referring to Diana Gabaldon's Outlander and its (thus far) five sequels. Apparently there are lots of devoted readers of these Scottish time-travel/romance/historical adventure books (women especially), so I don't feel alone at least. (It's nice to engage in solitary activities but not feel alone. Does that make me more social?) Today I found an alt.books.outlander discussion group and a site that sorts out the increasingly crazy timelines. And there is a fabulous page of Outlander humor, including toungue-in-cheek poetry and t-shirt sayings for characters. I feel so positively normal and mainstream.

In investigating this series I have learned a few things. There is a genre of literature known as bodice rippers (I do not know if Outlander applies, as it does not seem to be mysoginistic or extremely tawdry). Secondly, Scottish Highlander men and English women are a cliched romatic pairing (this definitely fits the Outlander series). See, my endeavors have not been without meaningful lessons.

Sharing complete.

UPDATE: What a difference a day makes. The first sequel is turning out to be a disappointment. Story's good but there are too many repetitions from first book, too many leaps, and (uh oh) too much bodice ripping. I might jump ahead to a later book that looked good upon perusal and let it catch me up. *sigh* I was having fun for a moment there....
UPDATE 2: The next book in series is good, very good. Though there are sizable passages which can be skimmed, there's enough to read that it makes for a satisfying escape.
UPDATE 3: Ditto the fourth book. I think what I like about the stories is that the characters are idealized yet events are realistic enough (read: good things don't always come to good people) to be compelling. Not that you asked. :)
UPDATE 4: Now David's read the first book and is plodding through book 2. Tee hee.