Posted by: Tommy Angelo on April 26th, 2009
One of the great things about getting married on 4-20 is that I will most likely never forget my anniversary. But just in case, Kay and I have established a tradition of taking a three-night anniversary getaway to somewhere within a 4.5 hours driving radius of where we live. This includes Lake Tahoe, Yosemite Valley, The Humboldt Redwoods, Big Sur, and many other geologically astounding locales.
We just got back from Point Reyes National Seashore. It’s only one hour north of San Francisco, which makes it less than 2 hours north of where we live, which is why these two question surfaced: 1) “How is it that neither of us has ever been here before? 2) “We have 2.5 hours of driving time left over. What would you like to do with it?”
The quote of the weekend goes to me. I said to Kay:
“We take us to all the best places.”
Below are four pictures. The first one is where we stayed. The second one is looking out from our deck. The third picture is yer typical California “Wow, I mean seriously, wow” shot.
The fourth picture is looking down on some elephant seals. They are just this side of the big rock, on the little beach. Also in this picture are many colors in the grass provided by flowers. We talked to a woman who comes here often. She said we had caught incredibly perfect weather, as usually it is cold and windy out on the point, and she told us that we had come at the most colorful time of year, as this was when most of the flowers have their pistils and stamens out.
She also taught us about California gray whales and their spring migration to the north during which they hug the coast and if you get lucky you’ll see some today. As it turned out, we got lucky that day, several times. Which brings us to the last feature of picture number four. If you look carefully, at just the right spot, you’ll see a place that isn’t all that far away from where we actually saw some whales.
The most surprising thing to me about the whales was being surprised by the scale. It’s pretty hard to surprise me when it comes to scale. I’ve spent an awful lot of time and mind-wattage observing, reading about, talking about, and thinking about the various size scales, and time scales, and temperature scales, and every other way we have of measuring the goings on around us. So I already knew, long before we left home, that whales are big. And here’s what happened. Because we were so high up, my mind had automatically factored in “whale largeness” and “approximate distance” before it set forth at using my eyes to look for whale-sized objects in or above the water. Then I spotted a whale as it broke the surface of the water. I could not see the whole thing. After it went back under, it stayed very near the surface for a little while and it was easy to stay with it. And that’s when I was able to see the whale’s entire lengthitude. It was twice as long as it was supposed to be according to my mind’s calculations. They should put a sign up there for the whale-watchers that says, “Objects are in fact exactly as large as they appear, especially whales.”
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Posted by: Tommy Angelo on April 15th, 2009
Even though my friend Ken Silbert lives in Florida, he is funnier than Dave Barry. I am proud and grateful to say that I have known Ken long before he ever killed anyone softly with his song. And now he has begun to officially share his malignant mind with the world using mere words. This will be a fun trick to watch. It’s like using an industrially complex cement mixer to squeeze a nano-thin ribbon of icing on to a tiny muffin that says “Oh, hi, I didn’t realize anyone was watching.”
Here comes Ken. Warning: don’t drink and read.
SPELLING BEE CHAMP RETAINS STATE TITLE WITH AID OF ADA You Don’t Mess with the Zohan
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Kelley Mantz, 12, of Bitters, Oregon, will retain her title as State Spelling Bee Champion and move on to the national Scripps-Howard competition in Washington D.C., thanks to pressure from the Office of Americans with Disabilities Act.
According to Nels Fflargrensen of the ADA, Mantz was disqualified by state judges despite beating all other competitors and proceeding to the final round where she correctly spelled the word gynandromorph—except with a ‘dick’ in the middle.
“Kelley suffers from Tourette Syndrome and is on medication to suppress her urges to blurt out offensive sounds and words,” explained Fflargrensen, “but in pressure situations, or when experiencing abnormal emotional stress, patients often exhibit unwanted behaviors even while under medical treatment. That could certainly explain the unfortunate ‘dick’ in the spelling bee.”
Officials with the Oregon State Spelling Bee are planning an appeal before May’s national contest. “Look, I feel bad for the little girl, I do, but the rules are the rules,” argued Eileen Gelb, one of the judges on the state panel that originally disqualified Mantz. “She spelled G-Y-N-A-N-D-R-O-M-DICK-O-R-P-H. That’s just not how that word is spelled. There is no dick in it.”
Kelley’s mother, Nancy Mantz, sees it as even more than an ignorance of the disease though. “Just because my girl is special needs and whatever, okay, fine. But if she had like a club foot, or one huge ear and no ear on the other side—something they could see with their own eyes—they’d still let her win at spelling. So yes, they don’t understand Tourettes, but also, secondfold, I think they don’t like ‘dick.’ I just have to wonder what if she put a ‘twat’ in there instead. I just have to wonder,” she said.
Fflargrensen, however, does not feel that is an issue. “Sure, it’s an uncomfortable topic for many, but whether it was a dick, a slot, or just mud flaps, it would boil down to the same thing: this is a smart little girl with a disability who needs to be defended against discrimination. Even if it had been shit nipples, mud puppy or a beeping sound. Some of them beep or honk, you know.”
“Let me ask you this,” countered Gelb at the ADA inquiry, “what if Kelley were to spell the word mattress M-A-T-T-R-E-S-PEE-S, with the word ‘pee’ in there. How would we know it was the word ‘pee’ and not the letter ‘p’ —which would constitute a misspelling? I don’t want Oregon represented in the national championship that way.”
Kelley’s mother explained that ‘pee’ would not be a problem. “She never says pee. She either says ‘piss’ or ‘hot squirt’ over and over and over.”
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Posted by: Tommy Angelo on April 6th, 2009
.!.
Breathing in, I am aware that I am breathing in.
Breathing out, I am aware that I am breathing out.
In this way, I train myself.
Breathing in, I am aware that I am sitting at a poker table.
Breathing out, I smile to the poker universe.
Breathing in, I watch the cards being dealt.
Breathing out, I observe the players on my left.
Breathing in, I look at my cards.
Breathing out, I fold.
Breathing in, I watch the hand play out.
Breathing out, I know that I am breathing out.
Breathing in, I am aware that air is entering my body.
Breathing out, I notice my fingers.
Breathing in, I am aware that a player is thinking about his decision on the river.
Breathing out, I watch him call.
Breathing in, I watch the called player turn over the nuts.
Breathing out, I hear the caller curse briefly.
Breathing in, I am aware that I understand the cause of the caller’s discomfort.
Breathing out, I send him some ease.
Breathing in, I erect my spine and I know that I am preparing myself to receive the next hand.
Breathing out, I am perfect and I notice the sounds of poker.
Breathing in, I am aware that I am breathing in a short breath.
Breathing out, I am aware that I am breathing out a short breath.
Breathing in, I know that I am breathing in a long breath.
Breathing out, I know that I am breathing out a long breath.
Breathing in, I calm my mind.
Breathing out, I calm my body.
In this way, I train myself.
Breathing in, I look at my cards.
Breathing out, I know that one is an ace and the other a king.
Breathing in, I move chips from my stack across the betting line.
Breathing out, I await and observe the decisions of my opponents.
Breathing in, I see them folding.
Breathing out, I see the player on my right raise.
Breathing in, I call.
Breathing out, I see the dealer thumbroll an aceless, kingless flop.
Breathing in, I watch the player on my right prepare to bet.
Breathing out, with anticipation, I time it so that at the moment he bets, my lungs are empty, and I dispatch my cards into the muck with the tip of my thumb, expending the least possible energy.
Breathing in, I am completely aware that I am breathing in and that my lungs are inflating.
Breathing out, I know that right now I am breathing out.
In this way, I train myself.
Breathing in, I post a big blind.
Breathing out, I see the player on my left post a straddle.
Breathing in, I hear the cards coming off the deck.
Breathing out, I look at my cards and I determine that I will fold when it is my turn.
Breathing in, I am grateful for this opportunity to relax and be still.
Breathing out, I fold and I notice my own gratefulness.
Breathing in, I see a player bet the flop.
Breathing out, I see the other players in the pot fold.
Breathing in, I hear the winner’s remark and a reply.
Breathing out, I intentionally shape my body as I please.
Breathing in, I post a small blind.
Breathing out, I watch the dealer’s hands deliver the cards.
Breathing in, I look at the big blind as he looks at his cards.
Breathing out, I look at my cards – 9-4 off-suit.
Breathing in, I decide to pay close attention to the action and to not decide yet what I will do at my turn.
Breathing out, I watch a player raise. Breathing in, I decide now not to reraise.
Breathing out, it is my turn, and I fold.
Breathing in, I pay attention to my in-breath at my nose.
Breathing out, I make my out-breath even and long.
In this way, I train myself.
Breathing in, I am aware that I have the button.
Breathing out, I perfect myself, I hear the poker sounds, I look at my cards – 8-6 of clubs – a vulnerable player limps, I look to the left as the action approaches me, I raise, the small blind calls, the big blind folds, the limper calls, the flop comes, they check to me, I bet, the small blind calls, the limper folds, the turn comes, the small blind checks, I check, the river comes, he bets, I call, he says “You got me,” I show my cards, he mucks, I hear someone say “He’s a moron,” the dealer’s eyes smile at mine as I tip, the next hand is dealt, I’m in the cutoff, I look at my cards – A-5 off-suit – the same player limps, I look left, the button indicates that he is folding, I raise, the button folds, the small blind folds, the big blind reraises, the opener folds, I fold, I sit back, and…
Breathing in, I notice that I have not noticed my breathing for a while.
Breathing out, I remind myself to remind myself to do better at reminding myself to remember to remember to remember to, ah, to remember. With each aware breath, I rejoin, I recombine, I become a member again, I re-member.
Breathing in, I know that I am breath taking.
Breathing out, I know that everything is breathtaking.
Until death do I live.
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