amarbledesk.com 

Just the four of us

Today was the first day of the entire family’s Holiday vacation. I’m on vacation from work starting today until the 2nd, and all three of the boys’ last day of school was yesterday as well. Monica drove up early this morning with Sue to get Babcia, so it was just us four boys today.

Want to know what we did?

(spoilers ahead)

…
…
…

Really want to know?

…
…
…

Ok.

-The four of us lay under the blankets in Mom and Dad’s big bed singing the trademark Three Stooges choral introduction “Hello, hello, helloooo…Hello!” for 30 minutes until we got it just right.
-Sean (11) babysat Paul (9) and Luke (3) while dad went to Tim Horton’s for a duzzin assorted donutz, three hot chocolates with candy cane sprinkles, and one cafe mocha.
-The instant Luke had a mouthful of donut, he took a drink of too-hot cocoa and began screaming that his mouth was burning, spewing a stream of soggy chocolatey donut goo all over his shirt, crying, and screaming. AT THAT INSTANT the telephone AND the doorbell both rang. Mr Mom trifecta!
-Dad took a 2 hour nap. Leaving the boys COMPLETELY unsupervised. And I wasn’t even drunk!
-Dad made the best from-scratch macaroni and cheese on the face of the planet. Five cheeses (american, cheddar, provolone, parmigiano, and goat chevre), butter, cream, milk, black pepper, red pepper, garlic, and twisty noodles. You wish you could have some.
-Dad gave Luke a bath.
-Mom has been feeling overwhelmed this week not only due to the impending holiday but because the laundry had grown, genetically mutated, and took over half of the second floor with demands for ‘more brains’. So Dad did all the boy’s laundry and the towels and linens and with the boys’ help put away and hung up all the clothes including some of Monica’s that she hadn’t gotten to yet, and including some restructuring of the linen closet disaster.
-Under Dad’s command the big boys cleaned both their old shared room and the office-which-we-are-making-into-Sean’s-room to prepare for each of the boys having their own room, our Christmas gift to them (and a sneaky way of teaching hygiene, personal responsibility, overcoming fears, and improving sleep habits).
-Dad ordered tickets for him and the big boys to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra on Thursday! Woo hoo! TSO! They have one song where giant ice cannons shoot out live polar bears, each carrying a giant golden glockenspiel and hammering out ‘Carol of the Bells’ with pickaxes while a Cossack on a flaming horse shreds a two-necked guitar. And that’s just the opener!
-Dad ignored his goddamed Blackberry ALL DAY!!!!
-Luke made Dad put Vince Guaraldi’s ‘Linus and Lucy’ on repeat for 2 hours while he played with phonics letters and watched Noggin.
-Monica got back, we ate Chinese delivery with Sue’s family (well, sort of, since Neko was screaming and burning up with a fever, Luke refused to eat, and Bill had to leave with Neko) and then the guests went back to Sue’s house.
-Monica is relaxing upstairs, so it’s just the four of us boys downstairs watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. Which makes a very nice bookend to match the start of our day.

Merry Christmas, all.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

“4 strings is all you need” – Eagle McSweetwater

This post is all about bass guitar, inspired by the following recent blogquote:

“4 strings is all you need.” – Rubber Eagle McWallstainer

Actually it’s about 1 guy’s bass guitar in particular: Tony Levin. I’ve been listening to some old Peter Gabriel, the stuff he did in collaboration with Robert Fripp. Who is insane. Mad. Battier than a Hell’s Kitchen guano factory on tape loop. Anyway, Fripp, Gabriel, and Levin collaborated on a song called “On the Air” on PG’s second solo album. Starts out pretty straightforward, a driving rock song over a little synthesizer background. Then at the end they break into brainfark mode, with a long complex chord progression featuring Levin on fretless bass played through a very very heavily overdriven amp. Well, at least the liner notes say it’s a bass guitar. I’m not sure I believe that, though, because IT SOUNDS LIKE A FREAKING CHAINSAW BEING PLAYED BY A KODIAK BEAR USING A SHOTGUN.

—

Also, Tony Levin played bass on PG’s famous song “Big Time”. Well, actually, Tony Levin played half a bass. Just the fretboard. How can you play half a bass guitar, you ask? Who played the other half of the bass guitar, you ask? Let wikipedia be your guide:

“The song’s bass guitar part is unique in that backing bassist Tony Levin and then-backing drummer Jerry Marotta teamed up for the main bassline. Using one of Levin’s fretless basses, Levin handled the fingerings while Marotta hit his drumsticks on the strings, which is why the bass part sounds percussive. Inspired by this sound, Levin later invented Funk Fingers, which were little drumstick ends that could be attached to the fingers to achieve a similar bass guitar effect in concert.”

Discuss.

No, don’t discuss. Play.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

memo

Memo to the people from my (bank/pharmacy/insurance/meth lab):

When YOU call ME regarding a business transaction, don’t start the call this way:

Me: “Hello, this is Mark.”
You: “Hello, is this Mark?”
Me: “This is Mark.”
You: “Could you please verify your date of birth?”
Me: (pause)
Me: “Who is this again?”
You: “This is (bank/pharmacy/insurance/meth lab)”.
Me: “And what is this regarding?”
You: “Your (recent withdrawal/prescription order/renewal/crank)”.
Me: “Oh, okay. Now I have a reasonable certainty of who the hell you are, and understand why I should give you information which could easily be used to steal my indentity. See, when you called and asked for my date of birth, you could have been any halfway intelligent criminal who got my name and phone number from the Yellow Pages/Internet, and now you wanted to also have my date of birth to seal the impersonation deal. But now I realize in fact you’re just a (bank/pharmacy/insurance/meth lab) drone who’s been given a call script written by someone with no concern whatsoever for my security. As a matter of fact, that low-level functionary probably thinks that he/she/it is respecting my security by asking for ‘verification’ of ‘personal’ ‘data’ before completing the transaction. He/she/it has probably been told by a high-level functionary that HIPAA/GLB/MLSA* actually requires them to ask my date of birth right off the bat. But these functionaries are also borderline functional illiterates who have no business even trying to interpret security legislation. The law doesn’t require them to do that. They’ve been told that someone else thinks the law requires that, but actually it makes us all less safe.” Out loud: “Now how can I help you?”
You: …

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

Laconic

Laconic, from Laconia or Lacodaemon, the region known as Sparta (Greece, not Georgia (Southern US, not the Caucasus)).

During the time of the invasion of Philip II of Macedon, with many Greek city-states in submission, Phil turned his attention to Sparta and sent a message: “If I win this war, you will be slaves forever.” The Spartans (Laconians) sent back a one word reply: “If” – the Laconic response.

Another laconic fellow was the terse President Calvin Coolidge. Cal once returned from church, and his wife asked him what the sermon was about. “Sin,” he replied. She asked what the minister said. “He was against it.”

Dorothy Parker said on hearing of Coolidge’s death: “How could they tell?”But there, I must stop. You see, Dorothy confused Cal’s verbal parsimony with inactivity and death.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

last fine things before the rains came

The Columbus Symphony Orchestra + Seven Nations was rained out, sadly. A very wet day, far too reminiscent of the old sod. We had a great Sunday anyway…

Outdoor Mass with Father Sullivan of St Colman of Cloyne parish, beautiful music provided by the Ladies of Longford. In true Catholic tradition, they bribe you into coming to Mass by providing free admission to the festival for the day…

Irish breakfast of soda bread with currants, scrambled eggs, two bangers, and two rashers. No black pudding, though. Belly-filming, heart-warming, and cheap at $5 per overloaded plate.

We finally found our new birdbath! We’ve been looking for months. A remarkable stonecarver by the name of Dan Roth carved two birdbaths out of stone recovered from a church for which he did some marblework. The stone basin of the birdbath is the former Holy Water font of the church, and the pedestal was recovered from the building’s stonework as well. Dan carved a celtic knot design with heart and crown around the rim. much better than our old cast-concrete job which crumbled. And damn reasonable for a beautiful hand-carved work of art. Here is Dan at work.

Other things of beauty:

Some fine photography by Shayne McGuire: http://www.mythandlegends.net/

Celtic Mandalas by Jen Delyth (http://www.kelticdesigns.com/). OK, this one’s Welsh, not Irish, but we’re charitable, we Celts. Very touchy-feely-pagany-Druidy stuff, but it’s nice to look at. I bought her 2008 Calendar.

Finally, let’s drink a toast in a couple fine new goblets we picked up from “Green Man Pottery”. I imagine there are about, oh, fifty or so vendors worldwide D/B/A that rather unoriginal name. But nice stuff. Mine is the one with the dragon, natch. I’m having hot chai in mine right now to combat the very welcome but chilly rain. Slainte!

That’s all for this year’s festival, the 20th annual and our own 11th

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

forever

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“What?”

“Do you still love me even though I’m not cute like I was when I was young?”

“Do I still love you even though you’re ‘not cute’? Listen: I’ll love you when you’re old and wrinkled and gray. I’ll love you when you’re dust and bones. I’ll love you when you’re only dust. I’ll love you when you’re just part of the earth’s molten crust. I’ll love you when you’re burned up by the ancient red sun when it devours the earth. I’ll love you when you’re nothing but interstellar ashes. And in the final collapse of all that exists into the last inexorable black hole, I’ll still love you. Do I still love you even though you’re ‘not cute’? Hmph. My love for you isn’t as shallow as beauty

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

Listen: Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.

Kurt Vonnegut died of brain injuries sustained in a fall in 2007.

So it goes.

“Hi-ho,” say all the Literature profs, high school English teachers, and humanists.

“Hi-ho,” say the seven kids who call him Father: four natural from two wives, and three adopted from the family of his dead sister.

“Hi-ho,” say I, because I read Slaughterhouse-Five, Breakfast of Champions, Deadeye Dick, Galapagos, and Bluebeard, over and over and over and over again. You can tell, can’t you?

Kurt Vonnegut was underneath Dresden when it was firebombed in 1945. He said it “was a work of art”.

The most important thing Kurt Vonnegut learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.

Kurt Vonnegut was born in Indianapolis in 1922.

After he was born, he imagined someone saying to him, “Hello, baby. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, baby, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, baby — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.’ ”

Before he was dead, he imagined that he said, “If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph:
THE ONLY PROOF HE NEEDED
FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
WAS MUSIC”

So it goes.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

Święconka

[http://www.catholicculture.org/lit/activities/view.cfm?id=1064]
[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holy_Saturday#Cultural_traditions]
[http://acweb.colum.edu/users/agunkel/homepage/easter/basketdia.html]

Bread shall be broken, with a lamb of pure butter.
A shank of meat shall be carved; let it be ham, in accordance with the New Covenant.
Horseradish with beets is bitter but reminds us of sweetness.
Eggs are new life; let the children decorate them in joyful colors.
Tasty sausages show us how bountiful are the world’s gifts.
Salt is an elemental component of our bodies and a direct connection with our origins in the primaeval chaos of the ocean.
A cheese is a very simple and humble food, and it shall be included as well, to our admonishment.
Now tomorrow we light the candles, pour the wine, and feast.

Our baskets which were blessed by the deacons of St. Brendan the Navigator Catholic Parish.

My mom’s basket … her first year participating in the blessing of the baskets.  Since when was my mom a Polish Catholic?!!?

Luke blesses his basket with his very presence.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »

Holy Thursday Mass

I’m not Catholic, as most of you know. I’m a heathen, technically atheist. Woo hoo! Goat leggings tonight!

But seriously: nevertheless I, without any unease or sense of hypocrisy, attend Mass nearly weekly.  Tonight, however, was my first Holy Thursday Mass. Wow. Quite a moving and symbolic ceremony!

Our priest quoted Neil Peart during the homily. No, really.  “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice”. The boys got that one. They like Rush, and they like church.

The austerity and lack of decoration was beautiful, with the altar laid bare. Our church is a beautiful, no, STRIKING, place. Different than any other Catholic church I’ve ever been in.  Very ancient in feel; not 1,000 years ago ancient. More like 1,800 years ago ancient.

The priests and deacons washed the parishioners’ feet, and I asked the boys, “Who is the servant and who is the master?”

Paul noticed the tabernacle was empty.  I pointed out to him, “We are all empty. Then in three days, the Tomb will be empty, but we will no longer be.” (Note: I said I was an atheist, not that I hadn’t studied Campbell and Jung.)

We did a full formal processional following the sacrament to the Place of Repose.  All the way around the parking lot and down past the grotto. In the dark. In the snow.  Rockin’.

The boys were confused but didn’t grumble too much.  I explained to them afterwards, “Were you unconfortable walking through the dark parking lot? Were you cold? Were you scared, unsure of what you were doing and where you were going?  Didn’t you just have to trust your parents that they knew what they were doing?  Well, then, now you’ve had a little taste of what a man named Jesus of Nazareth went through on a certain Thursday night a couple thousand years ago.” (Note: I said I was an atheist, not that I don’t believe in history).

I’m an atheist, but I’ve pretty much thrown my lot in on the side of the Christians, you know? I think at some point one needs to pick sides.

Posted by mark beadles in Uncategorized | No Comments »