Mark's Journal

On the road again: Seattle, day 1

2012-01-29T23:59:00.002-05:00

I'm never going to be a big fan of a day that requires me to wake up before nine a.m., but so it goes; that's what I had to do today.

Most of the long day went to travel, with an extended layover in O'Hare. Lunch there was quite good, courtesy of Rick Bayless' Tortas Frontera, which served quite good (though in my opinion too salty) and very fresh dishes. I enjoyed a Cubano and tasted some guacamole they were making as I watched. Very nice.

The rest of the day went to travel, work, and a late dinner in the hotel restaurant. Ah, the glamorous life of the business traveler!

Today is the birthday of my late stepfather, Edmund D. Livingston. He passed away many years ago while on the family beach house vacation. He served in the Marines in WWII. While in the Corps he went ashore at Okinawa, was injured severely twice, spent time as one of the first of the occupation troops in Japan, and came away from the experience profoundly changed, as all are. He loved my mother fiercely, loved my brother and sister as if they were his own, raised them, and took care of them. He had a ready smile and a bad joke always at hand. He waved to strangers as he drove by. At his memorial, many people appeared whom my mom had never met, and it turned out that in his personal time he was out quietly doing charity work, bringing food to some, driving others, all without telling anyone. He was never my father, but I would have been proud had he been. I underestimated him when I met him, but as I grew older, I realized how foolish I had been.

I miss you, Eddie. Always will.

Haywire

2012-01-28T18:59:00.000-05:00

Because so many people seem to care about it, let's address the elephant in the room: is the voice in the film of Haywire's star, Gina Carano, really hers?

Yes and no. Director Steven Soderbergh said the following in an interview here:

That's not really her speaking voice. We spent a lot of time in post working really hard on her voice, and we used every trick imaginable that's used on records today — in the editing, in the pitch. We combined five different readings in one sentence. We wanted her to sound different — not like Gina, but like her character, Mallory Kane. So that took a lot of work, and we worked really hard on it. That was the point of it. Everyone under the age of 30 is terrified of Gina, but Mallory is someone new.

Now, to a more important question: does that matter at all?

No. Hell no.

What matters is that Gina Carano kicks ass, and Haywire is a fun ride in large part because of her menacing (and occasionally sexy) presence. She strides through the movie beating the living shit out of one Hollywood male star after another, a larger than life avatar of the power of women in film today, should we want to go there.

Nah, let's not go there.

She's a great female action lead in a fun B movie that has all the cool camera work of any Soderbergh film. Her acting is on par with that of most action leads, which is to say that she has few expressions and uses one, her scowl, most of all. I can live with that.

Haywire won't win any awards, but if you're in the mood for nonstop action with a new, fresh star, see it.

Music to fit my mood

2012-01-27T23:59:00.006-05:00

Tonight and during moments of working on No Going Back, these two Snow Patrol songs are perfect.

Defining moments

2012-01-26T23:59:00.002-05:00

Every single one is a barely altered repetition of the countless others that have preceded it for as long as humans have existed and that will follow it until we vanish.

That knowledge means absolutely nothing in those moments, for each one is ours, uniquely, personally, irrevocably ours.

When we're young, we should expect them, but we rarely do, for we are young.

As the years go by, we stop expecting them, because we are old and believe we have seen them all, but we are as utterly--though differently--wrong as when we were young.

At night, when I bolt awake as if struck by the hand of the past, they crawl after me, dark troops assaulting the last stronghold of my mind.

Yeah, such dramatic language, but they are the very essence of our internal drama, so they've earned that indulgence.

Strange where writing takes you. Or not strange at all, but rather the proper places writers, artists of all sorts, need to visit.

Back to them for me.

Underworld Awakening

2012-01-25T23:59:00.007-05:00

Let's see how this one stacks up to the previous film in this series.

Kate Beckinsdale in skintight latex and corset outfit? ✓
Vampires fighting humans? ✓
Vampires fighting lycans? ✓
Stylized gray-scale look? ✓
Illogical new powers for Kate? ✓
Illogical new powers for lycans? ✓
A plot you must never consider closely? ✓
Entirely expendable supporting characters? ✓

So why did I go see this movie--and the previous two?

The first four check marks, of course.

To be fair, the original Underworld actually had a mostly reasonable plot that you could follow without wanting too much to throw your popcorn at the screen. This one doesn't worry about maintaining a sensible, consistent plot--but it does give you naked Kate on the floor with strategically placed bits of mist covering her private parts. The filmmakers must figure that as long as you're absorbed by her awesomeness, you won't mind their many other failures.

For the most part, they were right with me. I wanted a bit of violent, stylized brain candy, and in Underworld Awakening, I got it. I can recommend it, though, only if you liked the previous two and are in the mood for more of the same.

My favorite song of the moment

2012-01-24T23:59:00.000-05:00

is this one, "Lonely Boy," from El Camino, the new album from the Black Keys.

The video cracks me up, too.

On the road again: Chattacon, day 5

2012-01-23T23:59:00.001-05:00

I'm home safely, which is good considering how much of today we spent driving in fog and drizzle with lunatics tailgating us. I am always amazed at the number of people who seem oblivious to the weather going on outside their vehicles.

I have brought home a bit of a sore throat and so am fighting a cold. I need to fight it successfully, because I'm getting on another plane Sunday morning.

Back to work for now.

On the road again: Chattacon, day 4

2012-01-22T23:59:00.001-05:00

After a very late night, I slept as late as I could, then packed and headed off to my one panel of the day, a Q&A with all the special guests. The questions were good, though at times Toni had to seed us with them.

After saying a lot of goodbyes, I headed out for the first part of a two-part drive home.

Toni makes the case that Southern Fandom and its conventions are different from other fan groups. If the energy of Chattacon and the younger ages of at least a decent percentage of its attendees are any indicators, she's right. I certainly had a good time at this con, and I look forward to the next southern con that invites me to be a special guest.

Now, though, the giant sword-wielding gorilla that's sitting on my shoulder 24X7, my novel, summons me. To it, I must go.

On the road again: Chattacon, day 3

2012-01-21T23:59:00.003-05:00

We got up earlier than I would have liked so that we could catch the slide show of my pal, John Picacio, on his recent artwork. I've seen and enjoyed his show on several occasions. He makes it different each time, so I always learn new things. This one focused on his work for the George R.R. Martin Game of Thrones 2012 calendar, but it also included several other pieces and ended with his cover for No Going Back.

After a quick turn through the art show, we grabbed lunch, and then it was time for three hours of con work.

The first panel focused on questions about story length, such as whether some stories have a natural length, how we as writers choose the length for a piece, and so on. In the middle of it, I had to run to the room next door to talk for a bit at Toni's Baen Traveling Slide Show presentation.

My second panel's topic was technology and writing. Only one other panelist, John Hartness, showed up, and he proved to be a fun fellow, so we basically riffed all over the topic for an hour.

From there, I walked to the autograph area, plopped into a chair, and prepared myself for embarrassment. Fortunately, multiple folks brought me books to sign, so I wasn't sitting alone for much of the hour.

After more time in the art show and a snack, I focused on work for a bit.

Dinner was with a small group at a local Greek place, after which we crawled the con parties for quite a while.

Vampi requested in a comment that I post a photo of the light-up gloves. This one doesn't do them justice--my iPhone's camera couldn't really handle the strobing, multicolored light, but it is a great picture of Publisher Toni being silly in her Moon Princess tiara at her fun DeepSouthCon party.

(Click on it to see a bigger image.)

As the evening turned late, I headed back to work and then to sleep.

On the road again: Chattacon, day 2

2012-01-20T23:59:00.003-05:00

The morning went to work, as usual. For lunch, we ran out to a local member of a small barbecue chain, Sticky Fingers. My ribs-and-brisket combo was quite tasty, though both meats were on the dry side.

(As always, click on an image to see a bigger one.)

Once again, I didn't finish my whole meal, but given the size of this one and the fact that it came with a loaf of cornbread, that was a good choice.

After lunch, we put up Jain's art for this con on a panel in the art show.

They're pretty cool pieces. You can hang them as art objects, which they are, but you can also pull out of each one a necklace or bracelet and wear it.

After some work and a chat with artist guest of honor and friend John Picacio, I worked madly until it was time for the opening ceremonies, at which I was, well, the toastmaster. I introduced all the guests, amused the crowd a bit, and then sent us all next door for snacks and further conversation.

When that ended, we toured the art show and grabbed some pizza at one of the hotel's restaurants. More work and some time in the con suite, which played loud rock and roll and offered a nice variety of drinks and snacks, finished the day.

I'm quite enjoying Chattacon. The good folks here know how to run a fun con. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

On the road again: Chattacon, day 1

2012-01-19T23:59:00.006-05:00

The morning went to sleep and work, and the afternoon to driving. Along the way, we saw a sign for a Cracker Barrel. I've never eaten in or even stopped at a Cracker Barrel before, and today seemed perfect for it, so with a little bit of trepidation we took the exit and pulled into its lot.

Our trepidation was unwarranted. True, the goods on offer at the small attached store were a bit odd, but the food was entirely standard and reasonably tasty. It was also cheap. Here's what $7.99 can buy you there:

(As always, click on any image to see a larger version.)

I didn't even come close to finishing all that food.

We spent a short time in the store, but it wasn't short enough: I fell victim to the allure of gloves whose fingers light up in various patterns. I know, I know, but they seem so cool. I'm sure I'll find a use for them.

When we walked out, this beautiful old Hudson Rocket was parked right up front.

That logo alone is awesome.

When we reached the con hotel, the famous Chattanooga Choo-Choo, the redoubtable Regina Kirby, the con's guest liaison and also Dragon*Con's programming chair, met me and showed me my room. Waiting for me in it were these lovely treats.

In the cooler were some already chilled Coke Zero cans and bottles of water.

These folks know how to treat their guests!

For dinner we tried a local place, Table 2 Restaurant, that had scored a lot of very positive online reviews. The food was quite good, though on several dishes the chef put in too much of key acidic ingredients. One starter that was perfect was the hot rock surf and turf, which came with six pieces of fish, ten small bites of American Wagyu beef, some salt, and three dipping sauces. You cook the fish and meat on the stone. Here's ours partway through the process.

I'd happily go back, and I definitely recommend it if you live in the area or are at this con and in search of a strong dinner.

The rest of the evening will go to work and writing, to which I now return.

On the road again: Chattacon-ward, Asheville, day 0.25

2012-01-18T23:59:00.000-05:00

I spent most of today in Raleigh, working and living as usual. Then, in the early evening, we drove to Asheville. The idea was to minimize the amount of lost work time by creating space for blocks of work along the way. It worked out well tonight.

Dinner was in Winston-Salem at a strange little Mexican joint called Nacho Daddy's. The food was tasty enough and better than most road fare, and the service was reasonable. All in all, a decent choice and a lot better than a fast-food joint.

I've been up until six a.m. the last couple of nights, so I'm keeping this short and crashing.

Tomorrow, Chattanooga and the con!

A tiny sneak preview of No Going Back

2012-01-17T23:59:00.006-05:00

As soon as I post this, I am going to file with the typesetter, the amazing Joy, the first chapter of No Going Back. I'm doing this because every paperback copy of Eric Flint's novel 1636: The Saxon Uprising will include that chapter as a teaser at the end. So, if you want to read a small bit (it is a short chapter) of my next novel ahead of its publication, you can pick up that paperback.

Meanwhile, at the risk of annoying Publisher Toni (yes, I'm working on the book!), because you've all been so patient, here's the first line of No Going Back.

“Jon, this is a very bad plan.”

No, I won't tell you more. You'll have to live with the tease.

I bet you can guess, though, who's talking.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 6

2012-01-16T23:59:00.002-05:00

On the way to the airport, the driver mentioned that Grand Cayman was only 23 miles long and 9 miles wide at its widest, and that almost all shops closed at about the same time as he got off work. His point, which other residents echoed in short conversations, was that there just wasn’t much to do on Grand Cayman.

I can certainly see their point, but for a visitor, none of those things matter. It remains one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever visited. Couple that with a conference full of amazing food and almost non-stop activities, not to mention work and writing, and I was never bored. Not even close.

Mind you, in the interest of science, I would be willing to stay there for a few months and see if boredom set in, so anyone willing to fund such a study should feel free to contact me.

Most of today went to travel, as per the plan. I found it a bit odd to be singled out for a manual luggage search in Grand Cayman, but my suitcase and I passed the test with flying colors. I may even come out ahead, because the very nice guy who searched my bag said he’d go buy a book of mine.

My first flight landed on time, but the second brought me home almost half an hour late. That would have been an acceptable, even normal bit of bad news, but when I arrived at the baggage carousel to claim my bag, a page over the loudspeaker said I should come to the American Airlines baggage claim desk.

That's never good news. I was prepared to hear my bag would be late, but unfortunately, the woman behind the desk delivered the news in the worst possible way for me:

1) She failed to lead with an apology.
2) She immediately went to passive voice.

Her opening line: "Your bag wasn't scanned in Miami and won't be arriving."

Now, I know that I should take this news in stride, and for the most part, I did. I kept a level voice as I asked the necessary questions.

Inside, though, the anger grenade went off, and I had to cope with an adrenaline dump that was none too pleasant. (Remember my various writings--and all the research--about the way PTSD sufferers experience anger?)

By the way, if you're wondering how I think she should have delivered the news, it's simple:

1) Lead with an apology.
2) Take responsibility.

What I would have had her say: "I'm sorry to have to tell you that for reasons I don't know and have been unable to find out, American Airlines did not put your bag on the flight from Miami."

I recognize the corporate bullshit concerns that probably made it impossible for her to say that line even if she had wanted to, but it would have worked for me.

Still, I spent multiple days at the Cayman Cookout, I am home, and my bag should arrive tomorrow, so I have little to complain about.

Now, I have 42 hours at home before I get on the road for Chattacon.

Much to do, so it's back to work for me.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 5

2012-01-15T23:59:00.011-05:00

Today began late, for which I was grateful, with a noon brunch and amateur chef cooking competition. The food tables filled a long hall and an equally long patio outside the massive ballroom, and every single dish I tasted was delicious.

The cooking competition was less successful than the food but still fun. The chef judges--Eric Ripert, Jose Andres, and Anthony Bourdain--were dramatically more kind than they would have been with professional chefs, which was appropriate and good to see. The commentator, Top Chef winner Richard Blais, was personable, funny, and also kind.

The two teams did their best, but after having watched shows with professional chefs competing, the gap between these amateurs and the pros was all too apparent. From knife skills to ingredient handling to plating, the chefs simply were not up to professional standards. Nor would I be, of course. I am not trying to mock them; rather, it is just remarkable how much difference there is between even a low-level professional chef and an amateur cook.

Their dishes looked generally tasty, and the judges deliberated quite a bit before tallying the scores. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and the audience enjoyed the show.

Next up was a small artisan market set up around the lesser of the two hotel pools. The books on offer were the most tempting items, but paying marked-up prices and then hauling books home simply isn't a good plan.

I passed the next few hours in a mix of work, writing, wading in the already cool sea waters, and sitting on a chair on the beach. I could happily spend multiple more weeks here, though my bank account would not be so happy.

Evening brought the grand finale, the Cayman Cookout Gala Dinner. The meal began with cocktails on the patio outside Blue, but the high winds quickly drove everyone inside. Once we were all seated, seven of the chefs--Ripert, Andrés, Blais, Bloomfield, Gras, Payard, and Rogalski--created a lovely seven-course meal for us. Here's the menu.

(Click on the image for a much larger version that will be easier to read.)

The folks at our table were entertaining, the TVs showing the action in the kitchen were fun to watch, and the food was...good--very good even, but not truly excellent. I don't regret at all being there, but I suspect that any tasting menu at any of the chefs' individual restaurants would be better.

The high points of the kitchen broadcast were the moments when Andres was shoving signs in front of the camera and generally being a goof. He worked the crowd with notes commanding us to cheer, and he summoned Bourdain to the kitchen. Later, he asked for single women to also come to the kitchen, and later still, he told us that two had in fact taken him up on his invitation. On and on he want, a bundle of humorous energy.

Now, to late-night work, and then to sleep. Tomorrow afternoon, I travel home.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 4

2012-01-14T23:59:00.005-05:00

Morning came entirely too early for me, as it is wont to do, because I have to work before I can leave for the ten o'clock first session. No whining, though; I'm on Grand Cayman at one of the world's premiere foodie events.

That first presentation was an hour of interesting fun: "Good vs. Evil: Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert." A single chair stood in the middle of the small stage. Bourdain made Ripert sit in it, and then proceeded to circle Ripert and pummel him with questions. The questions were fun but also had an edge, as in when Bourdain made Ripert admit that Ripert has been on the Martha Stewart show two dozen times. After about twenty minutes, they swapped roles, and Ripert interrogated Bourdain. They're clearly great friends, so nothing turned mean, and both men--and the audience--laughed a great deal. They then took questions from the audience until we were well past time and had to head off to Blue for lunch.

Before we ate the three-course meal on the patio in the perfect Caymanian day, Chef de Cuisine Luis Lujan, the man who really runs that kitchen, showed us how to prepare two of the dishes we then tasted as starters. Lujan has worked at Blue for some time, and previously he ran the fish station at El Bulli, so his knowledge was both what one would expect from someone of his background and quite impressive. The lunch itself was delicious and, true to the spirit of both Ripert's signature Le Bernardin and Blue, kept the fish front and center as the star. I would have an entirely different attitude toward seafood and would eat it daily if it were all this good.

Everything here runs on island time, so we were late heading to the next presentation, one on sustainable farming, fishing, and cooking. I learned a lot and came away more determined than ever to support local farmers practicing sustainable farming.

After an hour in a hot pavilion, I was glad for the break before the next session, because I was able to dangle my feet in the gorgeous pool to cool off.

Yeah, I know: tough duty here.

I positively loved the next presentation, in which Top Chef winner Richard Blais used a whole lot of liquid nitrogen to create some fun and very tasty dishes. He is a lively and entertaining character, and everyone laughed and learned for an hour.

From there we headed straight over to another beach pavilion to watch Eric Ripert create tartare, ceviche, and carpaccio from three different types of fish. The last, the carpaccio, was the tuna and foie dish I mentioned we had eaten at Blue a few nights ago, and we were lucky enough to sample it again after Ripert finished.

I then crammed a bunch of work into the time before the evening's festivities started. We rode buses to Camana bay, ate tasty snacks and drank on a lovely open square, and then headed to different restaurants for dinner. Ortanique was our destination, and I confess to having picked it with almost no research. I paid for that laziness with the weakest meal of the trip, one that was good but that suffered by comparison to all the great food of this trip.

As I said, tough duty.

After dinner, we wandered back to the square where a local chef whose name I did not get, the legendary Francois Payard, and Top Chef: Just Desserts winner Chris Hanmer were all serving multiple types of desserts. Hanmer had the fewest on offer--only three--so I tried them all. (Hey, these were small!) Payard amazed with a hot and cold pina colada (barely a drop of alcohol in it, so I tried it), a single shot that burst in your mouth with contrasting hot and cold temperatures and complementary flavors. The real stars, though, were his white truffle macaroon, which was a delicious fusion of truffle and white chocolate flavors, and its even more intense sibling, the dark truffle macaroon. Wow, were they good.

As we all boarded the buses back to the hotel, we all universally complained of how much we'd overeaten.

Yup, tough duty indeed.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 3

2012-01-13T23:59:00.005-05:00

This morning, the event began in earnest. Multiple tracks run simultaneously, so I can tell you only about those that I attended.

After an early wake-up and catching up on work, we headed out to a temporary pavilion (a large white tent) on the beach to watch Jose Andres. A few minutes after the scheduled start time, he came walking out of the water in full scuba gear. One of his young daughters had received her scuba certification yesterday and so they'd been on a morning dive. As he talked, he ditched his gear and changed his shirt. Then, he told us all to come out with him and stand on the beach.

So we did.

While we clustered on three sides of a rectangle around him, with the tent the final side, he directed a team of chefs from his restaurants and quite a few volunteers in the preparation of a sort of sangria and two dishes. I skipped the alcoholic drink, both because I don't drink and I am allergic to mint.

The first dish to finish was a simple grilled fresh oyster. Put the closed oyster on a grill over wood--everything was over wood--and wait for the shell to open. When it does, add butter, pepper, and salt, then grill a bit longer. I'm not an oyster fan, but wow, were these delicious!

The other dish was a variety of paella that uses pasta. It took most of the hour to prepare and contained fish sauce, pasta, pork ribs, lobster, salt, and some spices. It was also completely delicious.

The ads for this event note that Andres is the guy you'd most like to have a beer with. It's true. He is a whirlwind of energy, enthusiasm, and emotion, a man who could not talk if you bound his arms; his hands are as much a part of the way he speaks as his voice. I know it's part of his shtick--we saw moments of fierce focus and energy as he directed his team in whispers--but it also seems to be part of who he is.

This was the best session of the day, and it made me want to eat in every restaurant Andres owns.

By the time it ended, though, we were overheated from standing in the sun and had only a little of the planned thirty-minute break left to us before the next session. After cooling as much as possible poolside, we headed into the hotel's 7 Restaurant for a lunch Anthony Bourdain was hosting. In his opening remarks, he said the goal was to recreate the sort of French restaurant that still operated in spots in New York and had never changed, the old-school French places where beef was king and green beans came with the meat. The food was pretty good, though not exceptional, but the event failed to deliver on its promise of stories from Bourdain. He hung with the staff and ate a bit outside with other chefs, but otherwise was largely absent.

The kitchen fell a bit behind, so we left immediately after dessert and still were seven minutes late to the next demonstration, a session on desserts from Chris Hanmer, the recent winner of the Top Chef: Just Desserts TV show's second season. Hanmer was both incredibly likable and also extremely knowledgable. He made the dessert that was one of the dishes with which he won the final contest of that show and that also helped him to become the youngest American ever to win a World Pastry Team championship. The dish included both banana and passionfruit caramels and looked yummy. It proved to be just that, because they distributed pre-plated dishes to all the attendees.

After a brief break and more time dangling feet in the pool to cool off, we headed back to the beach pavilion to watch a "Chocolate Epiphany" session by the world-famous pastry chef, Francois Payard. Despite the heat in the tent, which he swore was a hundred degrees (but probably was not), he managed to create some beautiful chocolate cookies, tart, and cake. Again, we had the chance to sample small bits of pre-made versions, and, wow, were they good.

I particularly liked his answer to a question about why he used grams instead of ounces: "Precision. When I bake, I am a robot, doing exactly the right thing exactly the right way. Ounces are not precise enough."

After this session, I spent all the time before dinner sitting in the dark, cool (as cool as I could make it) room, catching up on work and cooling off.

Dinner required a ride in a bus down the island to Tiki Beach, where at about a dozen different stations chefs, including Bourdain (pork), Ripert (beef), and Andres (pork with jamon on top), were preparing food for all of us. A live band playing island music, tiki torches, great food, and perfect island weather made it a lovely, delicious experience. I could never turn off the voice in my head that constantly reminds me that I don't really belong here, but that voice says the same thing in almost every group gathering I attend, so I'm used to it.

Tomorrow is an even more crowded day that starts as early as today but runs later, with no real break in the middle.

I had at one level hoped that the Cayman Cookout would suck, so I would never want to come back, but it most assuredly does not.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 2

2012-01-12T23:59:00.003-05:00

I won't see a lot of Grand Cayman while here, but the Seven Mile Beach, on which this hotel sits, is easily one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever visited. The sand is perfectly white and fine, the water so clear you could read a book a yard under the surface, and the air always gentle and salty. I love it.

The level of service and luxury at this hotel surpasses anything I've experienced except the Inn at Little Washington; no service tops the Inn's. I took a mid-day work break to spend some time in the water and on the beach. Floating in the water along the beach are a few swim-up "aqua lounges." Each has a large square foam table center, which is anchored to the sea bed, and four covered chairs, one per side. Sit in it, and a waiter walks out and takes your drink and lunch orders. It was embarrassing to do but also great fun. Sipping a non-alcoholic mango daiquiri while sitting mostly underwater in a lovely shaded seat is a great way to relax.

Were I far richer than I ever will be, I could certainly see the appeal of spending a month here during the worst of the winter.

Growing up in Florida, I knew people who worked at places like this, usually people with sufficiently good connections to score one of those high-paying jobs, but I never knew anyone who actually stayed at one. I still find it quite amazing that I am here.

On the road again: Cayman Cookout, Grand Cayman, day 1

2012-01-11T23:59:00.006-05:00

Two hours of sleep--twice interrupted sleep at that--is simply not enough, even for me, so I awoke utterly exhausted at 4:30 a.m. this morning. (I normally am crawling into bed about that time or a bit later.) After a shower that wasn't enough to wake me fully, I headed for the airport.

All whining about today, however, is unacceptable in the face of a single fact: I'm on Grand Cayman island to attend one of the coolest foodie events there is, the Cayman Cookout.

The Ritz-Carlton Grand Cayman is about as nice as a resort hotel can get, which I am here to tell you is pretty darn nice. After a late poolside lunch, I worked, rested a bit, and then caught this view of sunset from my oceanfront room.

My iPhone's camera doesn't do justice to the magnificent view, but you get the idea.

As I said, whining is simply not acceptable when you have this to look at.

And this pool view, from looking down from the room at about the same time.

So, yeah: no whining.

Dinner was late and at Blue, the local restaurant of legendary chef, New York restaurateur, and Cayman Cookout host, Eric Ripert. I was particularly interested in this restaurant because I've never eaten at Ripert's Le Bernardin restaurant in New York; in fact, I've never eaten his food before. I'm not the biggest seafood fan, so I've never pushed his restaurants to the top of my must-eat list.

I will now. The meal, which was almost entirely seafood, was magnificent. Every bite of every course was spot on. In each dish he managed to fuse his French heritage, his love of seafood, and tastes reminiscent of this island and the Caribbean in general.

To pick but one, the opening listed dish (after the amuse), was this lovely tuna carpaccio with foie gras.

It's so easy for foie to take over in any dish in which it's present, so that was a real concern here. As I hope you can see, they pounded the tuna until it was very thin, so I was doubly worried that the foie would drown it out.

I had no cause for concern. The balance of the flavors was perfectly tuned to keep the tuna the star but let the richness of the foie enhance that flavor. I ate it as slowly as I could.

Now, I am even more excited about learning from him and eating more of his food at the Cayman Cookout this weekend!

I will, of course, report back as the event unfolds.

Midnight In Paris

2012-01-10T18:14:00.001-05:00

I missed this Woody Allen film in the theaters but caught it the other night on Blu-Ray. It's been a while since I have so loved and so hated different parts of a movie. (Spoilers ahead.)

The opening montage was as long and deep a love ode to Paris as any Allen has created for New York. I didn't think he would ever give any other city so much affection, but I was happy he did, because his city shots are always wonderful, and I absolutely adore Paris.

Then, unfortunately, we cut to the present-day action. Owen Wilson did a fine job of playing Gil, who was really just Woody Allen playing himself, and of course Wilson was more attractive than Allen. Rachel McAdams, as his fiance, Inez, was gorgeous, but she was also completely shallow and cardboard, as cheap a shot as Allen has ever taken at a major character. Her father and mother were worse. At several points during the present-day scenes, I rose from my chair to leave, then sat again. I hated those scenes so much--their horrible emotional content, their cheap shots, the fact that they clearly conveyed that Wilson and McAdams would never have been together--that I could not understand why anyone had liked the film.

Fortunately, the journeys to the past began, and the interludes with Inez and family shrank, and then I was hooked.

Allen's take on the writer and artist scene of Paris in the '20s was exactly as mythical and overblown as our fantasies of it. He caught perfectly the popular view of that time, in which every night is a party full of great figures, with more great men and women always available in the restaurant around the corner. The past characters were, in a much more pleasant way, as cardboard as the present-day ones, but Allen's love for those great artists made them lovable for us.

In the end, I wished I could have cut McAdams and family and watched only Wilson's present-day search for himself and his budding romance, then focused on the past.

In the end, the movie was saying what Woody Allen so often says: great art, most of which is in the past, is what most nourishes us, and when we live in and of and for art, in our actions and most importantly our romances, then we are most alive.

Despite the early present-day scenes, on balance I have to recommend Midnight In Paris strongly.

Just plan to hate parts of it.

The CD on repeat right now

2012-01-09T17:01:00.004-05:00

is Jon McLaughlin's Forever If Ever. (You can listen to some cuts from it and learn more about McLaughlin here.) It is a strong album indeed, one that repays multiple plays.

It begins with this lovely tune.

Careful and regular readers may recall that I saw McLaughlin when he opened for Stephen Kelloog and the Sixers back on the first of October in Carrboro. The album ends with this song; the video is from the show I saw.

The sound quality for that fan-made video isn't very good, but you can still tell what a joy-filled performance it was.

They played this song in front of maybe seventy people. Seventy. Maybe.

Art you love is art you love, no matter how few or many other people also care about it. I don't know why this album didn't make any big noise last year, but I do know that it's big for me.

As artists, we have to accept that our audiences may not be as large as we'd like and still create the art we believe in. As fans, we have to support the artists whose work we love.

That's all we really can do.

A car game I lost

2012-01-08T16:31:00.000-05:00

Driving home yesterday, we were discussing one of the recent fun fact games: finding the number-one hit the week you were born. (You can easily do so here.) Everyone else in the car had a good song, one you would know and remember.

I had this.

Really. The McGuire sisters? In an admittedly weak year for popular music, couldn't I at least have had Bill Haley & His Comets singing "Rock Around the Clock."

Well, I can have it here, and cleanse my ears in the process.

There, that's better.

Protecting ourselves from porn producers

2012-01-07T16:20:00.002-05:00

As some news sites will tell you (and as this article does), we are facing a crisis: what to do if unscrupulous porn producers attach our names to the new .xxx Web top-level domains (TLDs). As Sarah told me earlier today, and as this article confirms, some universities are quite concerned that these blackhearts will appropriate their names for dirty concerns. After all, what if someone other than, say, Duke (to pick on a school my daughter attends and which I quite like and respect) were to register such titillating domains as

naughtydukenurses.xxx
friskydukenurses.xxx
slyminxdukenurses.xxx
hotdukenurses.xxx
hotfriskyandslydukenurses.xxx

What untold damage might ensue? The horror! What would this do to the reputation of Duke or any other university?

Give me a break.

The answer, of course, is absolutely nothing.

What would (and will) really happen is that some porn producers will buy a ton of domains that they hope will entice viewers. Some of those will work, and some will not. If domains tied to universities prove to work, the porn producers will come up with suggestive variations no matter how many domains the universities buy. (As of this writing, I don't believe Duke owns any of the above.)

You can't stop a troll on a thread by engaging with him/her. You certainly can't stop porn from finding a way to people who want to see it. Worrying about stuff like this is just plain silly.

Coming soon: Jon & Lobo audiobooks!

2012-01-06T23:59:00.002-05:00

I've learned quite recently that the good folks at Audible.com have purchased the audiobook rights to all five Jon and Lobo novels (the fifth being the upcoming No Going Back). I'm quite excited at the prospect of hearing these books.

Other than the fact of the purchase, however, I have very little data to offer you. My friend, Sam Montgomery-Blinn, broke the news on his SF audiobook blog. According to his contacts at Audible, the first four Jon and Lobo novels should appear in audiobook form by the end of March, with the fifth hitting about the same time as the print book (May 1). That would certainly be cool.

I have no clue who the narrator will be, nor will I get any voice in that selection process. Yes, I know that Neil Gaiman does, and I'm sure some other writers do, but I don't sell as well as Gaiman (though feel free to buy enough of my books to change that fact). I'll probably learn the narrator's identity when I first see the books come online.

As I said, though, I'm quite excited to hear these audiobooks. I've never had an audio version of any of my works, so I look forward to them. I hope you do, too.

My 2012 awards self-pimpage post

2012-01-05T23:59:00.002-05:00

Like many science fiction and fantasy writers, I'm aware that the awards nominating season is upon us. John Scalzi has helped popularize a new tradition of writing a simple self-pimpage post in which you list your eligible works for the year. He's even been gracious enough to host a post and comment thread in which others can pimp their stuff. Though I still feel rather awkward doing so, I posted there, and I'm also putting the information here.

For those who don't follow these things, the Hugo awards, the fan-voted accolades that are a centerpiece of each year's World SF convention, are now open for nomination. (For more information on this year's Hugos, see this page. To learn more about Chicon 7, the 2012 WorldCon, go here.)

My only eligible work from 2011 was a novelette:

The Long Dark Night of Diego Chan

It appeared in the anthology (which I edited), The Wild Side. I rather like the story, and all the reviews I've seen of it have been positive, for whatever that's worth. I definitely hope one day to write a few novels about Diego.

As I've noted before, it doesn't take a ton of nominations to make the Hugo ballot. In the novelette category, probably well under a hundred would do it. So, if you like this story--or any other--consider buying an attending or supporting membership to the con and nominating it. The more people who participate in the process, the better.

A PSA I can get behind

2012-01-04T22:44:00.001-05:00

The cause is good, and the presentation is wonderful.

Thanks to my buddy, Griffin, for turning me on to this.

Best lines: "We need a volunteer that ain't breathin'. Here's one I made earlier."

Enjoy.

On a bookshelf in my office at work

2012-01-03T23:57:00.003-05:00

sits this lovely gem

Why, you may well ask, is that glass-stoppered bottle sitting there?

That is exactly what visitors to my office wonder.

Clearly, my plan is working.

Things that piss me off: People who won't use their turn signals

2012-01-02T23:59:00.004-05:00

You either know what I'm talking about, or you're one of them.

Doing the right thing is not hard. You're in the right lane and heading toward the road where you're going to turn right. Before you get to the point at which you have to turn, you first hit your turn signal to warn those behind you of your impending action. Or, you're in the middle lane and want to change to the left lane, so you again hit that signal well before you change lands. And so on.

If you're a good driver, before you take any such action, you engage that signal.

As near as I can tell, despite how easy this is, most people today have never learned to use their directional signals.

I have to admit that using them can be tricky when you're holding your mobile phone in one hand, your beverage in another, and the wheel between your knees. (Yes, I've done that, and I was wrong when I did.) I'll even grant that turn signals don't matter when you're alone on the road, though keeping in the habit and using them even then is a good idea.

Even people who aren't facing those driving challenges, however, don't bother with their directional signals these days. It's as if they simply can't be bothered to be aware that our roads are resources that we should all share with care.

They are risking the lives and property of other drivers with their thoughtless actions.

Each and every one of these jerks pisses me off.

Where I stand on No Going Back

2012-01-01T12:19:00.002-05:00

This message is an edited version of an exchange I had yesterday with Publisher Toni. I figured I owed folks an update.

The short form is that the book is a mess but is now on the right track.

That does nothing, however, for scheduling, so let me now give you a longer form. I will finish just in time for the very last-minute deadlines, but that is all.

I have lots of reasons for this piss-poor deadline performance, but they all ring like excuses in my ears, so I won't bother with them. What really matters is that after a very long time I finally realized I was writing the wrong book, an unrelentingly bleak novel that I would not want to read. After figuring out why and figuring out how to do what I wanted while not creating such a book, I put myself back on track. It will be a sprint to finish even on the very last-minute schedule, but I can do it.

I apologize to all for this colossal fuck-up, but I am at least now confident that this will be a good book, one I would like to read and one that others will, I hope, like to read.

I must end by noting that Publisher Toni was, despite what had to be an inner tirade of justifiable cursing and frustration, completely and totally supportive. Writers sometimes ask why I stick with Baen and don't explore other options. Among many other reasons (and there are many), one stands tallest: Toni. She makes the company a family, and she puts up with all of its eccentric members, most certainly including me, and that is worth a very great deal indeed.

UFC 141: How we fared

2011-12-31T12:23:00.000-05:00

Last night's UFC PPV event was a lot of fun, though as we feared, many of the fights went to decisions.

As I noted yesterday, we disagreed on only one picks, so we each had only one chance to win. That chance vanished when one of the fighters, Matt Riddle, proved to be sick and unable to fight. Because we agreed on all the other fights, I'll just report on how we both did.

Let's begin as usual with the preliminary matches, all but one of which we ultimately got to see.

Manny Gamburyan vs. Diego Nunes

We expected Nunes to win via a combination of better striking skills and decent take-down defense, and that's basically how the fight played out. Gamburyan was a game competitor, and he won the second round, but in the end Nunes had enough to score the decision victory.

Dong Hyun Kim vs. Sean Pierson

This second fight also played out almost exactly as we expected it would, with Kim grinding out the decision victory. The one change from our script was that Kim didn't work much for take-downs and instead won via superior striking.

Luis Ramos vs. Matt Riddle

Our only disagreement, and Riddle has to spoil it by getting sick. Ah, well.

Efrain Escudero vs. Jacob Volkmann

The one fight we didn't get to see also went as we predicted. Volkmann was simply too much for Escudero, taking him down and smothering him for two rounds. From what I've read, Escudero came back in the third round, but it was too late.

At the end of the preliminaries, we were a perfect 3-0!

We caught the next two fights on Spike TV.

Danny Castillo vs. Anthony Njokuani

At the risk of sounding both repetitive and egotistical, this was another fight that we nailed perfectly. Castillo took down Njokuani over and over in route to a split-decision victory. I don't know which judge gave Njokuani two rounds, but he or she was watching a different fight than I was.

Ross Pearson vs. Junior Assuncao

Another fight that went to decision, and another correct call for us. Pearson was too much for Assuncao, though Assuncao fought well and had moments in which he looked quite dangerous.

We entered the main card a perfect 5-0 and feeling good about our picks.

The PPV event brought us the big five bouts.

Nam Phan vs. Jim Hettes

That feeling ended with this fight, where we were spectacularly wrong. We expected Phan to win, but instead Hettes utterly dominated him. It went to decision, but the judges called it 30-25, 30-25, and 30-26, making it the most lopsided UFC decision I can recall. Phan only avoided a finish through utter toughness. We were now 5-1.

Alexander Gustafsson vs. Vladimir Matyushenko

We expected Gustafsson to win, and he did, though more convincingly and quickly than either of us expected. With a knock-out in the middle of the first round, Gustafsson has definitely advanced in the light heavyweight ranks.

Jon Fitch vs. Johny Hendricks

Speaking of moving up, Johny Hendricks did just that as he dispatched Jon Fitch with a knockout just 12 seconds into their fight. Everyone knew Hendricks' right hand was powerful, but his left did the trick in this fight. For several seconds, Fitch literally didn't know what hit him. UFC president Dana White has to be happy to have a new contender at 170 pounds.

We were not happy, however, to have called this one wrong. It left us 6-2.

Nate Diaz vs. Donald Cerrone

Wow, were we also wrong on this one! "Cowboy" Donald Cerrone looked sharp for about the first two minutes of the fight. From then on, Nate Diaz utterly and completely dominated him. At times, it appeared as if every single Diaz punch was landing. Diaz's boxing was on a completely different level from Cerrone's. Given how great Nate Diaz looked in his last fight against Gomi and how amazing he was in this one, he may finally have solidified his game. He certainly has to be considered a contender at 155 now. We were down to 6-3.

Brock Lesnar vs. Alistair Overeem

We both said this fight would probably finish in the first couple of minutes, and at the 2:26 mark, it was indeed over. Unfortunately, we both picked Lesnar to win via take-down and subsequent dominance. Instead, Brock never shot once, Overeem beat him up with knees, and Brock turtled and waited for the ref to stop the fight. Brock looked like a man who had come to collect a paycheck, which he certainly did. After the fight, he announced his retirement from the UFC.

We ended the night a disappointing 6-4, over .500 but just barely.

As always, don't rely on us for betting advice!

UFC 141: Kyle and I pick 'em

2011-12-30T12:58:00.008-05:00

Tonight's UFC PPV event features a fight between two of the biggest and strongest men in the sport, Brock Lesnar and Alistair Overeem. Kyle's visiting, and we are, of course, watching the fights, so we thought we'd make one final set of fight picks for 2011.

As always, we start with the preliminary matches, which may not end up being broadcast anywhere other than on Facebook.

Manny Gamburyan vs. Diego Nunes

Mark: For Gamburyan to win, he has to take down Nunes. Nunes will use kicks and strikes to make that very difficult and ultimately to secure the win.

Kyle: This is how stacked the UFC 141 card is: Two of the best Featherweights in the world, both arguably in the top ten, both of whom have beaten former champion Mike Brown, are fighting in a match that isn't even going to be televised. Nunes came up short in his last fight against Kenny Florian. Gamburyan has dropped two in a row, first a title shot against Jose Aldo, and then a close decision against the always-game Tyson Griffin. My guess is that Gamburyan isn't going to be able to take Nunes down, and Nunes has the reach and technical striking skill to punish Gamburyan standing. Look for Nunes to hand Gamburyan his third loss in a row.

Dong Hyun Kim vs. Sean Pierson

Mark: Kim is going to grind away at Pierson with strikes and take-downs and suffer very little damage in the process. In one of the evening's more one-sided fights, Kim will win handily, though probably by decision.

Kyle: Kim and Pierson both have very impressive records, but Kim's includes wins over Nate Diaz, Matt Brown, and Amir Sadollah. Pierson hasn't beaten any opponents that notable. Kim's going to be a big step up in competition for Pierson, and I expect the Korean judoka to be more than he can handle. Dong Hyun Kim for the win.

Luis Ramos vs. Matt Riddle

Mark: The oddsmakers are leaning toward Riddle, but I'm going with Ramos via better wrestling. Expect him to make it a long night for Riddle and grind out the victory.

Kyle: Riddle's the younger man and has a five-inch height advantage over Ramos. That should be enough to give him the edge he needs in the striking department. Riddle for the win.

Efrain Escudero vs. Jacob Volkmann

Mark: Escudero took the fight on short notice and will regret that decision. Volkmann will take him down repeatedly and emerge the victor.

Kyle: Despite winning season eight of The Ultimate Fighter, Efrain Escudero was cut by the UFC after missing weight and making poor showings in several fights. He's gone 5-1 in other organizations since he was cut, and an injury to Volkmann's scheduled opponent, T.J. Grant, has given Escudero a second chance in the big show. Don't expect it to last. Volkmann has beaten better fighters than Efrain Escudero, and he should be able to send his opponent packing back out of the UFC.

The long relationship between the UFC and Spike TV is ending after this year, when the UFC moves to Fox and its various stations. For this event, however, Spike is still televising two undercard fights.

Danny Castillo vs. Anthony Njokuani

Mark: Anthony Njokuani is a great striker who's fun to watch, but Danny Castillo knows that as well as anyone, so he's not likely to spend much of the fight on his feet. Njokuani hasn't shown much take-down defense, so I expect him to spend most of the match on his back wishing he were standing. The result will be a win for Castillo, probably by decision.

Kyle: Castillo is taking this fight on three weeks notice, after an injury to Njokuani's previous opponent, Ramsey Nijem. That said, Castillo has looked a lot more impressive than Nijem in his last few outings. Look for him to use his superior wrestling to tie Njokuani up and smother his Muay Thai. Castillo by wrestle and grind.

Ross Pearson vs. Junior Assuncao

Mark: Pearson was undersized at 155 but still did pretty well there. He should fit very nicely into the featherweight division. Junior Assuncao is a decent fighter, but Pearson should have the edge in most areas. Pearson for the win, probably by striking.

Kyle: Ross Pearson is awesome. Expect him to turn this into a brawl and bludgeon Assuncao senseless with his hands of stone.

To see the top five fights, you have to buy the UFC PPV.

Nam Phan vs. Jim Hettes

Mark: Hettes overcame his Octagon jitters to beat Alex "Bruce Leroy" Carceres in his first UFC appearance, but he didn't look very impressive doing it. Now, he's taking a step up in competition. He certainly can win by submission if Nam Phan gets sloppy, but that's his only way to win. Phan can win on points or by striking, and as long as he stays off his back, he should be fine. This fight won't be very exciting, but Phan should walk away with the decision victory.

Kyle: Jimy Hettes, who struggled on the feet against novice striker Alex Caceres in his last fight, is going to find himself in deep water if he stands and trades against Nam Phan. His best chance is to drag Phan to the ground and submit him, but Phan has enough grappling skill to make that a difficult proposition. Phan by knockout.

Alexander Gustafsson vs. Vladimir Matyushenko

Mark: I have a soft spot for the resurgent Matyushenko, in part because of his classic Russian demeanor and in part because he has one of the least glamorous nicknames in fighting, "The Janitor." He's also on a roll, having won four of his last five fights--with the only loss coming to Jon Jones. All that said, Gustafsson is younger, stronger, a better striker, and still improving enough in his wrestling to stay off his back most of the time. Those skills should let Gustafsson emerge with the victory.

Kyle: My heart says Vladdy, but my head says that Gustafsson is younger, has better reach, and is a more technical striker. Matyushenko's best chance is going to be to try to get Gustafsson to the ground and beat on him, but that's going to be hard to do to the man who beat Matt Hammill into retirement. Gustafsson for the win.

Jon Fitch vs. Johny Hendricks

Mark: Watching Jon Fitch fight is frequently as exciting as watching instructional training videos, but it can also be as informative. The man is a wrestling and grinding machine. Hendricks also has great wrestling credentials, and he's a better striker, but he isn't ready for the relentless, slow beating that Fitch will put on him. It'll take all three rounds, and it'll be another decision victory that Dana White will hate, but this one will end with Fitch's hand in the air.

Kyle: Jon Fitch has lost one fight in the last nine years, and that was against dominant welterweight champ George St. Pierre. Hendricks has good wrestling chops, but he's never shown the same command of MMA grappling that Fitch has. Look for Fitch to impose his will, wear on Hendricks, and do just enough damage to keep from being stood up. Fitch by yet another decision.

Nate Diaz vs. Donald Cerrone

Mark: Since his departure from the WEC and his commitment to Greg Jackson's camp, Donald Cerrone has been on a tear. Nate Diaz has also been doing well and improving his game, particularly his striking. Cerrone, though, is a better Muay Thai fighter and a stronger grappler. Diaz has the edge in submission skill, but unless Cerrone gets sloppy, he should be able to get away from Diaz should he make the mistake of staying too long on the ground with him. This one should be very entertaining but end with Cerrone moving into the top tier of the UFC's lightweights.

Kyle: In the battle of the UFC bad boys, Cerrone looks to cap a dominant year that's already seen him rack up four UFC wins. Diaz has been less consistent, both in his choice of weight class--he goes back and forth between lightweight and welterweight--and in his win/loss record, as he's gone 1-2 so far this year. Cerrone just keeps getting better, and Friday should give him an opportunity to show his new skills, using his heavier hands to batter Diaz on the feet and earn the win.

Brock Lesnar vs. Alistair Overeem

Mark: As Kyle and I have discussed, this fight will go one of three ways: Overeem tags Lesnar hard in the first two minutes and follows up for the knee-and-fist TKO victory, Lesnar takes Overeem down in the first two minutes and follows up for the ground-and-pound or submission victory, or the two fighters make it out of the first round and then spend twenty more minutes looking like two gassed old men flailing at one another. Though the oddsmakers favor the first outcome, I'm going with Brock by beastly take-down and subsequent finish.

Kyle: When 530 pounds of lean beef collide in the Octagon Friday night, one of three things is going to happen: Overeem will land a solid punch in the first two minutes that knocks Lesnar out; or, Lesnar will take Overeem down early, secure position and pound him to a pulp; or, the fight will last more than a couple of minutes, in which case both men will gas, technique will go out the window, and it's going to be long and ugly. Of those options, I'm inclined to think that Lesnar gets the takedown and smashes Overeem's face in. No opponent Lesnar's faced has managed to keep from being taken down yet, though some have managed to get up again. Nothing in Overeem's background suggests that he'll be better at avoiding Brock's takedowns than the NCAA champion wrestlers that Lesnar's faced in the past. Brock by ground-and-Hulk-smash.

Unfortunately, we disagree on only one fight, so which of us emerges victorious rests solely on the Riddle/Ramos fight. The oddsmakers are with Kyle, but I'm still betting on Ramos.

Of course, the fact that we agree means nothing; we've both been wrong plenty of times in the past.

Tomorrow, I'll report back on how we fared this time.

As always, don't rely on us for betting advice!

The Adventures of Tintin

2011-12-29T20:27:00.000-05:00

Like most of the good movies I've seen this holiday season, Tintin was enjoyable but not as good as I had hoped given the reviews and word-of-mouth feedback I'd heard.

The film was certainly pretty to watch. The combination of stop-motion and normal CG animation produced a lovely result, with many details (hair, facial expressions on some characters) that were topnotch.

I saw the 3D version, but I found the 3D unremarkable, neither distracting from nor particularly enriching the movie.

The story was also fun, with a solid quest, a wide variety of locales, and a great deal of action.

As with Mission: Impossible, however, Tintin fell short of my goals for it in large part because it was so very predictable. The smaller steps in its plot were actually less formulaic and more interesting than those in MI, but like MI it could have used some tightening.

As I've thought more about this problem, I've come to believe that there are two basic ways to solve it. One is to cover the formulaic plot with so much style that the style itself becomes an object of interest, a factor that distracts you from thinking too much about the story and thus from realizing you know what is going to happen next. The other option is to tighten the story so it operates as a finely tuned velocity exercise, hurtling from one event to the next so quickly and with so little distraction that you never have time to get your bearings and realize that you could have predicted the outcome.

As I've said of so many other recent films, I did enjoy Tintin, and I can recommend it--but with the reservation I noted.

Mission: Impossible, Ghost Protocol

2011-12-28T23:26:00.001-05:00

I wanted to love this movie. I'm a long-time fan of the Mission: Impossible movies and even the old TV series. I loved Brad Bird's work as director on Ratatouille and The Incredibles. I was in the mood for fast-paced action. I figured this one to be the one sure film of the holidays for me.

I did enjoy it, but I didn't love it.

Three factors stopped the movie from being all it could have been.

The first was Tom Cruise's performance. The charm and humor he used to great effect in Knight and Day never appeared here. Instead, he showed two looks: the quick smile, and the scowl. Both are fine, but eventually you want more from a performance.

The second was how little the film surprised us. From the first time each character appears, you know who the character will be and how he or she will act. The plot jets down a completely telegraphed plot line. I don't mind knowing the good guys will win, but it would be nice for at least some of the details of the victory to be surprises.

The final weakness came from some combination of the writers and Bird: Each scene ran a little too long, as if they always wanted to put just one more obstacle between the good guys and the next stage of the plot. I'm all for making things difficult, but in this movie I found myself repeatedly wanting to advance to the next key event.

Despite these issues, I did, as I noted, still enjoy the movie as the brainless thrill ride it is supposed to be. I might even watch it again one day, if only to see if my first impressions hold.

I just didn't love it.

My favorite art book publisher

2011-12-27T17:58:00.002-05:00

is Taschen. These folks produce amazing books on a wide variety of subjects. I collect as many of them as I can reasonably manage--which is far from their complete catalog, given the insanely high prices of many of them.

To get a sense of their range, consider that they've produced a brilliant book on DC Comics, a fabulous volume of the complete works of Michelangelo, a fascinating book on the life and works of porn star Vanessa del Rio, and a history of the heyday of the American circus, to name but four random books from my collection.

That collection, by the way, has grown so big and generates so much interest from visitors that Gina and I are working to set up an area in my office bookshelves dedicated to Taschen.

If you're not familiar with these folks and their great books, check them out. You'll know what to ask for come next Christmas.

When you see cupcakes this weird...

2011-12-26T16:28:00.000-05:00

...what do you do?

If you're me, you buy them, two each in chocolate and white cake.

When it comes time to eat them, however, you recruit help. Let others go first. It's only prudent.

In this case, no one on the volunteer team would try a whole cupcake. Instead, they split them.

As Sarah's expression may tell you, everything above the chocolate bit is frosting.

She couldn't finish half a cupcake before the sweetness level became too high.

I've yet to try a bite, but the remaining cupcakes aren't going anywhere, so there's time.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T10:00:00.000-05:00

If you celebrate this holiday, I hope yours is magical and joyous.

If you don't celebrate it, please don't take the wish as a religious affront, for I do not mean it as such. I still hope you have a magical and joyous day.

Now, I'm out! Back tomorrow.

The best 2011 album I heard this year

2011-12-24T17:06:00.000-05:00

is Gift Horse, from Stephen Kellog and the Sixers. There's not a bad track on it, and it contains quite a few exceptional songs. I've had it in heavy rotation since it arrived, and I'm not tired of it yet.

If you aren't listening to these guys, you should be.

I've linked to a few of the songs before, but I'll still provide some samples here.

First, an in-station video of the one Sarah said she has played the most from the album.

I'm quite partial to this one. I'm using a no-video link just because the audio quality on the live shows I tried was so bad.

If you at all like these songs, buy this album and support these guys. I want them to make many more records.

How much ice cream is too much?

2011-12-23T17:40:00.001-05:00

That's one of the issues I'm pondering as I sort by flavors the rather large order (27 pints) of Jeni's fabulous ice creams that is now filling our freezers.

My initial reaction was, maybe this much.

I then, however, came to my senses. We don't have every single flavor Jeni's makes, and we have only one pint of several different flavors.

Nah, this is not too much. After all, we have a lot of people visit at various points during the holidays.

Come to think of it, we may need more....

A Fox's Feast

2011-12-22T17:45:00.003-05:00

As Aaron Vandemark, chef and owner of the wonderful Panciuto restaurant explained in an email message to customers,

I’ve been reading Fantastic Mr. Fox to Henry (my two year old). At one point the hungry animals, led by Mr. Fox, burrow into the farmers’ storage sheds and find themselves surrounded by fowl, pork and cider. What follows is a spectacular Fox’s feast for all to share and I thought it would be fun to do something similar at the restaurant. So… I’m working on a menu now and I expect it’s going to include, chicken, duck, livers, pork shoulders, maple roasted pork bellies, carrots (for the rabbits), cider (hard and soft), and more. This will be our first community style dinner we’ve had in quite a while and I hope it sets the tone for your time with family and friends during the holidays.

As anyone who knows me could tell you, this was tailor-made for me. I absolutely could not resist the notion, so last night a group of us converged on Panciuto for this event.

It was wonderful.

The menu (click on it to see a larger, easier-to-read image) sounded both tasty and adventurous.

(Sorry about the grease stains; the tables were full, and I kept my menu out for reference during the meal).

The food proved to be even more delicious than the menu sounded.

I was frankly wary of both of the first two courses, but I should never have doubted Aaron. They were amazingly good, the soup warm and flavorful without ever being overly strong. The salad made me wish every dressing included duck and mustard.

The main course--the three meats, the raviolis, and the greens and carrots--was so good everyone there ate too much and wished they could fit in more. The pork rack, which was the weakest of the three meats, would have been the star in any other meal, its meat ever more tender as you ate closer to the bone. The pork belly was absolutely perfect, the exact right mix of crispy outside and oh so soft inside. For many, though, the fried chicken stole the show: served as basically large fried nuggets, no bones anywhere, it was moist and tender and so delicious all of us agreed we had never tasted its equal.

The dessert, which none of us had room for but all of us ate, provided a lovely, delicious ending to the meal.

The atmosphere was also perfect. They set the restaurant in one long table, and we all sat and ate community style. The room rippled with conversations and laughter, and though no one person knew more than a fourth of those present, for those few hours we were, as Aaron intended, a community.

I wish I could have taken every single friend I have to this meal.

The Hangover Part II

2011-12-21T18:59:00.000-05:00

We'd enjoyed The Hangover's dumb action and humor, so tonight we decided to give its sequel a try.

Big mistake.

Unlike the many critics who hated this movie because it basically replays the plot of the first one, none of us minded that deficiency. We knew about it going in, and we were willing to tolerate it. We just wanted to laugh.

Unfortunately, the film gave us few moments of genuine humor.

What every single one of us disliked (and I despised) about The Hangover Part II was its meanness. The film's creators clearly were aiming for dark humor, but for most of the movie all they achieved was the equivalent of middle school bullies first pushing around a few weaker kids and then beating them badly. At no point were any of the male crew who were lost in Bangkok completely likable.

Give this one a pass, even if Netflix's or Amazon's streaming offerings are looking bleak and you're bored.

Bridesmaids

2011-12-20T17:03:00.000-05:00

Yeah, this movie has been out for a long time, but I just got around to watching it (on Blu-Ray) the other night. I can't recall when a movie has left me with such mixed feelings.

On the one hand, I laughed my ass off at many points during the film. It pulls no punches and will do anything for a laugh.

On the other hand, much of the laughter comes from some vicious cruelty that the protagonist, Kristen Wiig's character, suffers. She causes much of her own pain, but the situations are nonetheless both excruciating for her and, at times, difficult to watch.

The film also suffers from having very few likable characters. Each time you get close to one of the leads, she does something insensitive or dumb, and you like her less. Two of the supporting characters, those played by Melissa McCarthy and Chris O'Dowd (Simon in Pirate Radio), were also dumb but never as cruel as the rest, so they were the best touchstones at hand.

On balance, though, the film was worth watching and definitely funny as hell at times.

By the way, if you watch it on Blu-Ray, check the gag reel for a wonderful bit in which Jill Clayburgh manages to deliver with a straight face a description of an odd sexual practice--and then Kristen Wiig loses it.

The trimmed tree

2011-12-19T23:59:00.006-05:00

Each year, we have a small party to start the trimming of our tree. I say "start" because even with more than a dozen folks participating, we don't finish in the few hours the party runs. We just have too many ornaments, baubles we have accumulated over the years and that all end up on the usually rather massive tree. (This year's is about ten feet tall.)

Tonight's party got us this far.

Gina, who took all the photos, had to crop this one, so the tree looks rather crooked here. Its trunk is indeed a bit bent, but it's actually reasonably straight, as this photo from earlier in the process reveals.

Our ornament collection is a bit odd. Sure, we have many traditional balls, but we also have a Hawaiian shirt and more than one celebrity.

As well as menace.

The good ship Serenity is in there somewhere, as is a plastic pickle. There's really just no telling what you might find on our tree.

Bill recently pointed out to me that I am ritual man, a guy who has accumulated a ton of rituals, particularly around the holidays. He has a point, but I don't mind. Rituals such as this one are fun, bring friends together, and at least for me enrich the holidays. As the days shorten and grow colder, bringing some of the extended family together to eat, laugh, share warmth, and brighten the night is a very good thing indeed.

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

2011-12-18T23:59:00.003-05:00

How you feel about this movie is likely to mirror how you felt about its predecessor: if you enjoyed that one, you'll have a great time at this one, too.

I very much liked both.

The plot this time is at least as convoluted as the original's, but that's okay; it's also easy to follow. Director Guy Ritchie drops enough clues, both verbal and visual, that you can follow along if you pay close attention--and nod appreciatively at the reveals if you don't. He uses the same gimmick during fights to show the workings of Holmes' mind, but it's entertaining enough that you don't mind.

What makes the movie really tick is Robert Downey, Jr.'s Holmes. The performance is spot on, alternately clear-eyed and crazy, but always intense.

The other leads are all also quite good, though none obviously as important. Jude Law's Watson is as solid as the character should be. Stephen Fry's small turns as Mycroft enrich the movie and make you want more of him. Jared Harris proves to be a wonderful Moriarity, radiating menace and intelligence and more than a hint of insanity at every turn.

All that said, with the weakest dialog and almost no role, Noomi Rapace steals the camera's focus whenever she's on screen. I will watch her in anything.

The entire film, of course, is silly and over the top and ultimately predictable, but that's nothing new; the first was the same.

I thoroughly enjoyed it, as I did its predecessor.

In which Sarah comes home

2011-12-17T17:47:00.003-05:00

Yes, today the international traveling daughter returned safely to us, all as per plan.

Our eagerness at the airport gate where we all waited for her was high. You can practically see the doors trembling with an-ti-ci...say it...pation.

And then she appeared.

A short while later, we were home.

It's so very good to have her back.

Bad Santa sums up the worst of Christmas

2011-12-16T23:59:00.002-05:00

As is our tradition, tonight a small group of us watched the unrated version of one of my favorite holiday films, Bad Santa, and ate sandwiches. (The sandwich part makes sense only if you've seen the movie. If not, go watch it.)

Though foul in language and tone, the movie really does have at its core a soft heart and an attempt at redemption. It also comments perfectly on the dark side of a commercialized Christmas. Near the end, Marcus is about to kill Willie (the Santa character, Billy Bob Thornton) and says the following:

It is Christmas, Willie.
But this is what we do.
We get the shit.
Christmastime, we get the shit.

Whatever one's religious beliefs, I think it's good to remember that this is not what Christmas is all about.

See: another reason to watch Bad Santa!

Sometimes a weird notion

2011-12-15T17:55:00.005-05:00

Most work days when I am in town, I eat lunch at the little cafe in our building. The food is generally good, and the people who own it are very nice--and working behind the counter preparing your food. We like the place enough that our company gives a benefit of a quarterly allowance to each staffer so they can buy some lunches there.

Like anyone who eats at the same place frequently, I tend to fall into ruts, eating the same few items over and over.

Yesterday, while I was deciding what to have for my lunch, an odd notion struck me: why not try everything on the menu at least once? Having considered that idea, I, of course, had to come up with an orderly way to proceed, so I decided to start in the upper left and work down and then left, as one reasonably would.

So, that's what I did.

Here's the menu. Click on it for a version large enough to read.

I've now eaten the first two items.

I also know what I'll be eating for many in-office work days to come.

Problem solved.

Welcome to my mind.

So bad it's mandatory

2011-12-14T23:59:00.000-05:00

I can't artistically defend the fact that I'm already psyched to see this movie, but I am.

So it goes.

Health update

2011-12-13T21:07:00.002-05:00

After seven weeks of being sick, five of them with this wracking, choking cough that will not go away, I finally visited my ENT today. Who says I'm slow to take a hint?

After checking me all over, he concluded, as Bill had said he would, that I have bronchitis. He said it was a miracle I was walking around and working, at which I shrugged; I'm not going to let bronchitis slow me.

He prescribed a strong antibiotic, which I will start tonight when I get home from work. He also said I should indulge in a couple of weeks of rest and no work; that would be no. He finally prescribed a strong cough syrup to help me sleep, but I'll probably also ignore it.

I expect to be fully recovered in three to four days.

Were I a doctor, I would not enjoy having me as a patient.

A few promised happy snaps from the Las Vegas trip

2011-12-12T20:59:00.000-05:00

I'm overdue on these, but I just got around to downloading them. Most are from the Grand Canyon trip, and I already posted one of those, so I won't put up many.

As always, click on any image to see a larger version of it.

Our helicopter, on which you can read the name of our trip company. No, it was not the one that suffered a crash last week.

Lake Mead from the air was magnificent and almost jarring, the only blue against the unrelenting shades of sand and brown that constituted most of the desert landscape.

The Colorado river wandering through the desert, another life-affirming bit of blue, though one that from a distance looks rather fragile.

On the ground, on the Native American side of the Canyon (with their permission, of course), you can see both the many geological strata and also the shades of green in the vegetation that manages to live there.

We had to stop to refuel on the top of a plateau. There we saw what was for me the first snow of the season.

For the surprisingly (to me) many who have written and asked, yes, there was shoe shopping.

And, yes, Jennie went home with another pair of Louboutins, this one insanely sparkly and color-shifting. Jain called them "all lizardy and shit," an apt description.

Lest you think I've forgotten that it was near Christmas, here's an example of Christmas subtlety, Vegas-style.

Even Cthulu had a Christmas exhibit.

Where else but Vegas?

How awkward can I feel posing while dressed up?

2011-12-11T23:54:00.000-05:00

This awkward.

Did someone say "no-necked Mafia enforcer?"

How awkward can two men, my business partner Bill and I, feel while posing dressed up?

This awkward.

That's more than enough.

Exhausted

2011-12-10T23:59:00.003-05:00

Tonight was our company's seasonal celebration, the holiday party that culminates our year. A tradition we've followed since before we even started PT, the SC gives us a chance to thank our staff and their families. It's a swanky, fun event, but it's also exhausting, because I spend most of it working--and a great deal of time beforehand helping make it happen. So, for now, no tux picture, but soon, really.

Now, work, and then sleep.

The essence of great service

2011-12-09T21:39:00.003-05:00

I think a lot about this topic, because our company is in the service business. I talk to others about it. I contemplate how we provide service, and I pay attention to the service that others provide me.

After all this consideration, I come back to a basic principle and a corollary, both of which fit nicely in one sentence:

Great service comes from doing what your client wants, not from doing what you want to do.

Another way to say both parts, by the way, is that great service comes from putting your client ahead of yourself.

Any way you phrase it, neither part is easy.

I'm going to ignore here those situations in which what the client wants is something you're not willing, for whatever reason, to do. In such cases, you have two reasonable choices: attempt to change the client's mind, or bow out.

Doing what your client wants can be difficult for multiple reasons. The client might not know what he/she wants or might have only a basic understanding of that desire. Doing what the client wants might cost more than the client is willing to pay. And so on.

Doing what your client wants might also mean not getting what you want from the encounter. If your client really wants a dress and you don't have any, you'll probably have to send the client elsewhere.

Which gets to the second part, not doing what you want to do. If you want to sell shoes and she wants dresses, you lose. That happens. Get over it. If your client wants his steak well done and you consider anything darker than medium rare to be an abomination, either kick out the guy or char that beef.

All of this sounds so easy it shouldn't be necessary to discuss, but it's not. Watch the next time you're serving someone, or someone is serving you, and odds are that the server will violate this principle sometime during the transaction. As best I can tell, at core most people don't want to put others first most of the time, so their service suffers. That's understandable, but it will always limit how good they are at what they're doing.

On wearing a tuxedo

2011-12-08T23:59:00.003-05:00

I was briefly considering this topic because on Saturday night I will don mine for my company's seasonal celebration. (Bill and I always wear our tuxes for this event.)

When I was young, I thought owning a tux was a sign that a man had arrived. Only later did I learn that a very basic tux costs no more than a middling suit.

I also hoped that wearing a tux would automatically make one as elegant, handsome, and suave as Cary Grant, who was the most elegant man ever in a tux. Period.

Alas, that is not the case. No one is as elegant as Cary Grant was.

Still, in my experience, most men in tuxes look well-dressed and, more importantly, the women around them say they are. I never garner as many compliments from women as when I'm in my tux.

I do appreciate those compliments, but I still yearn to be as elegant as Cary Grant--and I know I never will be.

Some nights, I gotta be a DJ

2011-12-07T23:59:00.003-05:00

Tonight is one of them. If you hate playing music selections from others, move along; I'll be back to something else tomorrow.

For now, though, I needed to listen to this Death Cab song, which also has a deeply sentimental and lovely video.

Speaking of honest sentiment, check out this great song from Van Morrison. The video is silly and at times dumb, but at least you get the original, uncensored lyrics.

Lest I spend the entire playlist in sentiment, here's Henry and his band with some advice for the next party.

I'm gonna close on sentiment, though, with a song I've featured before that I just love. It's not the original version, but it's my favorite.

Child abuse changes your brain

2011-12-06T23:59:00.002-05:00

If you were abused, you almost certainly already believed this.

If you read the March, 2002 Scientific American article (preview here), you were more convinced.

Now, though, the extremely respectable journal Current Biology has published an article, "Heightened neural reactivity to threat in child victims of family violence," that makes the point quite clearly with some excellent work from a group of top UK scientists. (Thanks to my pal, John Lambshead, for pointing me to this story.)

For an easy to read summary of it, check out this Wired piece, "How Abuse Changes a Child’s Brain." The article opens with this line:

The brains of children raised in violent families resemble the brains of soldiers exposed to combat, psychologists say.

Hell, many of my readers and Dave's already knew that. I sure did. Still, the scientific confirmation is good to have.

This bit summarizes the research:

His team compared fMRIs from abused children to those of 23 non-abused but demographically similar children from a control group. In the abused children, angry faces provoked distinct activation patterns in their anterior insula and right amygdala, parts of the brain involved in processing threat and pain. Similar patterns have been measured in soldiers who’ve seen combat.

The brain changes, of course, are not the only physiological adaptations to abuse (and PTSD of other sorts). As the Scientific American article and its sources made clear, key glands also change, one consequence of which is a heightened adrenaline response.

I do not mention all this to make excuses, because I don't believe any of it provides an excuse for anything I or any other abused person does. We are each responsible for our actions.

No, I'm bringing it out because I want people to understand that the cost of child abuse is high and lifelong, physical and mental, and most importantly, unacceptable.

On the road again: Las Vegas, day 4

2011-12-05T23:59:00.001-05:00

Kyle once observed that by writing my blog I am making an implicit promise to its readers to lead an interesting life. I have certainly failed on that task today, because there's rarely much of interest in a day you spend on planes.

I slept as late as I could, worked, showered, and headed to the airport. Each step of the travel process proceeded about as you'd expect it would, with no particularly noteworthy occurrences. I see this as all to the good, because the travel days worthy of notice tend to be so because they contain particularly bad experiences. I am happy that today contains nothing exceptionally bad.

I'm home now and, thanks to bandwidth on both flights, largely caught up on email. Physical mail, unpacking, and so on await me, as usual, but that's part of the cost of travel.

Tomorrow, life returns largely to normal--or as normal as it gets in this holiday season.

On the road again: Las Vegas, day 3

2011-12-04T23:59:00.004-05:00

I always prefer to sleep insanely late when I can, but today that was not possible for a very good reason: a trip to the Grand Canyon. Still, I slept more than usual and awoke feeling better than usual; not a coincidence, I suspect.

We headed out on a mission to find the tour bus that was to take us to Boulder City, NV, where our helicopter awaited. The Venetian staffer I had asked had made the path sound difficult, but fortunately it was not. In no time we arrived there, and I caught up on email on my phone while waiting for the bus.

After a bit, we boarded the bus and rode for the better part of an hour, some of that going to other hotels and some on the open road.

At the Boulder City airport, we checked in, watched the safety video--a requirement of the tour group, and then joined with a few folks from Ohio on our helicopter.

I haven't been in a helicopter for a very long time, so I had forgotten how very much I like flying in them. That knowledge flooded back to me within seconds of us lifting off from the ground.

Prior to taking this helicopter trip, I wasn't sure if the ride would be worth the expense, or if I would find the Grand Canyon amazing.

I had no reason to doubt either one.

The trip was easily worth the cost, and the Grand Canyon is awesome.

I took a lot of photos and will upload more later when I'm on my main system, but for now, because it's his birthday celebration trip, this one will suffice: Kyle, in front of our helicopter, near the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

As always, click on the photo for a larger image.

The sheer scope of the canyon and its geological diversity are both stunning. I cannot recommend this trip too highly.

For the readers who have asked, yes, there was some shopping, led by the women in our group. After that, I worked, and then we headed for dinner to Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill. My last experience there was decidedly meh, but I was hoping that the Mesa Burger, about which I had read good things, would be as tasty as its reviews suggested. Alas, the burger is available only during the day, so I was out of luck. My dinner was once again meh. I won't be going back there.

The gelato at the Bellagio's Cafe Gelato, however, was as delicious as always, so the food part of the day ended on a high note.

Tomorrow is a travel and work every second I can day, but that's okay by me, because I have a ton to do. Plus, if I stayed here, I would both go broke and weigh 1,100 pounds. Still, it's been a good trip so far. I hope travel tomorrow goes well.

On the road again: Las Vegas, day 2

2011-12-03T23:59:00.003-05:00

After some much needed sleep, I started today with our traditional brunch at the Las Vegas version of Thomas Keller's Bouchon Bistro. It was as delicious as always, and we all ate entirely too much.

From there we headed straight to the Palms casino for the finale of The Ultimate Fighter TV show. Here, courtesy of Kyle, I stand in front of the octagon in which the fights take place.

After the fights, which were excellent, we grabbed a taxi to the MGM Grand for our second traditional meal of the day, dinner at Craftsteak. Everything I tasted was delicious, though once again I think our group consumed entirely too much food.

More sleep awaits me.

Tomorrow, a strange trip I've not made before!

On the road again: Las Vegas, day 1

2011-12-02T23:59:00.002-05:00

Three and a half hours of sleep with one wake-up in the middle is not enough rest for me when I'm totally healthy. I'm far from totally healthy, so six a.m. this morning came way too early for me. Still, I got up without an alarm, showered, and headed to the airport on schedule.

The flights were generally good, because I secured first-class seats on both legs and bandwidth on the second. The combination of a ton of Diet Coke and a lot of concentration let me keep current with work until I had to shut off my laptop as we were touching down in Las Vegas.

After the usual luggage and taxi wrangling, and a remarkably efficient hotel check-in process, we dropped off our stuff and grabbed a snack at the Bouchon bakery.

More work followed.

The evening went to the early show of Cirque's Zumanity, which I enjoyed far more this time than the first time I saw it, and then an excellent Chinese dinner at Wing Lei.

I'd tell you more, but I'm falling over exhausted, so I'm going to wrap this up, do a tad more work, and then crash for what I hope will be many hours of rest.

Levi Weaver

2011-12-01T23:59:00.000-05:00

A while back, I landed from a trip and headed straight to a coffee shop to watch Ben, Sarah's boyfriend, perform as the opener for a Nashville musician he knows, Levi Weaver. I'd never heard of Weaver, so I went to listen to Ben--who was very good. I stayed, though, because I was there, the crowd was small, and live music is a good thing.

I'm very glad I did.

I enjoyed Weaver's music a lot. After the show, I bought all his CDs and a t-shirt; I wanted to support his tour.

I also signed up for his newsletter. Today, it brought me notice of this video, which I found lovely and more than a bit haunting.

As of this writing, 303 people have viewed this video. Levi is an artist out there working, doing his best, and this song and video are quite good. As far as I'm concerned, he deserves a vastly bigger audience. Of course, we don't get to pick our audience sizes (if we did, every one of my books would stay atop the New York Times bestseller list until the next one came out), but I think he's worth your time. For whatever that's worth.

Apropos of nothing

2011-11-30T23:59:00.003-05:00

An ambitious bug hitching a ride on my Prius.

Click the image to see a larger version and appreciate his beauty.

This happened a while back but flashed into my memory for no good reason.

My mind is like that.

That is all.

Sarah makes it to Italian MTV

2011-11-29T20:50:00.003-05:00

You can read a lot more about her day in her always entertaining blog here, but if you want to get right to the television commercials, look below.

In this first one, she appears in the first scene in a rainbow wig with a fake guitar.

In the second, she's still in the rainbow wig, but now in the last scene for a fraction of a second before the smiling pale guy covers her.

Fun.

Happy snaps from the recent long trip

2011-11-28T14:37:00.004-05:00

(As always, click on any image to see a larger version.)

From a movie theater in San Diego, proof that California deserves to slide into the Pacific after the next big one.

I mean, seriously: calories on theater food? That's positively un-American!

Tourist stop or not, Emeril's makes the best banana cream pie I've ever tasted.

As multiple New Orleans residents told me, the new cuisine you cannot avoid there is Vietnamese. We ate lunch at one hole-in-the-wall Vietnamese joint near the con, and the food was delicious. Here's my plate of awesome goodness.

I mentioned the restaurant Hobnobbers. Here's what you see as you come toward it down the narrow alley that is one of the two ways into the place.

The other is via the bar.

Once you're inside, you see this small room, which feels like it's been there forever, even though the place opened in 1987.

If I lived near it, I'd eat there entirely too often.

Panciuto as the leaves surrender

2011-11-27T14:22:00.002-05:00

We haven't been back for months, so last night we returned to Panciuto to see what Chef Aaron Vandemark would make from the ingredients of this season.

Once again, the food blew us away. I have yet to taste a single mediocre dish there.

We started by sharing a cheese and charcuterie board, which featured, as is Vandemark's way, all local ingredients. Each bite was delicious, though the star was the pork belly, which was everything it should be: crispy and yet unctuous, rich and amazing.

My starter was a flat bread with greens, cheese, and pulled pork shoulder. The server advised that we pick it up and eat it with our hands, which was possible only by never letting go once you had the delicate bread in your hands.

My main, which I could not finish, was by far the best pork shank I've ever tasted. Cooked in a sauce that included molasses but never turned too sweet, the meat fell off the bone and was moist and flavorful and wonderful. The gnocchi on the side were pillowy soft and rich in flavor. Even the wilted greens, of which I am frequently suspicious, were amazing--though it helps that he cooked them in the meat juice.

Dessert was an apple crostada with the best cinnamon ice cream I've ever tasted.

I've said it before, but it bears repeating: if you live around here, you need to get to Panciuto as soon as possible.

The Muppets

2011-11-26T23:59:00.003-05:00

is that rare movie that holds no surprises, tells you up front what it's going to do, and manages to do it so well that you not only stay entertained the whole time, you are likely to applaud at random moments.

The plot is simple: Bad guy (Chris Cooper) sets out to destroy our team of plucky heroes (the Muppets). With the aid of some new friends (Jason Segel, Amy Adams--who is wonderful in the part, and the newest Muppet, Walter), the heroes save the day, overcoming many obstacles along the way. You've seen it before a zillion times, and you'll see it again a zillion times.

Fortunately, the shape of a plot is never the important thing. What matters is how the particular work executes that plot.

The Muppets brings its classic mixture of wide-eyed innocence and corny jokes, many that only the grown-ups will get, to the task, and the combination works wonderfully.

I did not grow up watching the Muppets, nor did I watch them a lot with the kids. I'm not a huge Muppets fan; others with me knew songs and bits of schtick that I did not. Despite that ignorance, I had great fun watching this movie.

If you feel the need for some wonderfully entertaining silliness--and who among us can't use that from time to time?--catch this one in the theater.

I screwed up

2011-11-25T19:26:00.003-05:00

I recently made the mistake of glancing through my Amazon reviews for Children No More--something no writer should ever do with her/his books. Sadly, that is not the error I am writing about. No, I have to confess something worse.

A comment from Richard Brice pointed out that I screwed up the way parachutes work. In researching the scene, I had talked to a few folks who had gone skydiving, and I'd watched some videos, but I had failed to consult anyone who really understood the process. I consequently spoke of a lift occurring when the parachute opens, but in fact no such thing happens. It feels like you're being pulled up, but the sensation is inaccurate. On most videos it looks as if the skydiver is going up when the chute opens, but that's because the camera operator is usually falling without having opened his/her parachute.

No, you do not go up. Instead, you just slow your rate of descent.

I hate making errors, particularly those I could have prevented.

I will, as always, endeavor to minimize them.

My thanks to Mr. Brice, because I have learned something useful, and people should call me out when I screw up like this.

Now, back to the book in progress.

A moment of Thanksgiving thanks

2011-11-24T13:29:00.000-05:00

I am so very fortunate that I could write all day and still not be able to list all my blessings. Because this blog hangs off my writing site, though, I want to say thank you to a large group of people most of whose members I don't know: everyone who buys my books or comes to my shows.

It's amazing, really, if you think about it. I've been telling stories my whole life, writing and talking and generally taking an undue share of the attention space around me, and now people are kind enough to pay me to do so. Like every writer or performer or artist of any type, I always want my audience to be bigger, my books to sell better, my shows to require arenas, and so on; to steal a great line from my friend, Lew Shiner, there is never enough love in the room.

Sometimes, though, I manage enough perspective to realize that I am incredibly lucky that anyone is willing to read my words or listen to me talk.

Thank you, all of you, who do that.

The best Google doodle ever

2011-11-23T19:55:00.004-05:00

It's not the turkey we're enjoying today, though that is fun.

It's the Stanislaw Lem doodle that Google is giving some Europeans for the sixtieth anniversary of Lem's first book. (Thanks to Allyn for pointing me to this.) You can read about it here, and you can see clips of just the doodle itself, which did not come with music, on YouTube on pages like this one.

It's not just a doodle, either; it's an animated game. Check out the Easter egg explanation here.

Well done, Google folks.

On being grateful

2011-11-22T19:21:00.005-05:00

Dave forwarded me this New York Times article. Go ahead and read it. I'll wait.

What I find most interesting about the article is not just the attitude it espouses, which I believe is a good one, but the fair amount of science behind it. The bottom line seems to be that we are wired to be grateful--and to benefit from expressing that gratitude.

That's very cool.

I'm always grateful when people do things for me, even small things. I try to express that gratitude, and I'm a big believer in the basic social niceties.

As I've thought more about my behavior, however, I've had to admit that I need to become much better at showing my appreciation. I need to both feel the gratitude and express it.

I'm going to do my best.

On the road again: Houston, day 2

2011-11-21T23:59:00.001-05:00

Everything went well until I hit the airport for the flight home.

I stepped to the side to open my suitcase so I could take out the book I'm reading and change into more comfortable shoes. The lock was stuck and would not open. No, I didn't forget the combination; I have it noted in another place just in case. The lock simply wouldn't open.

Stuck in the suitcase was my small baggie of liquid items, each in the TSA-approved size. So, I passed through security nervously, but after some discussion about whether the liquids looked to be the right size, the TSA folks let me through.

The airport's only bandwidth on offer was a Boingo hotspot that was temporarily down. So much for work there.

Dinner was a bright spot: a very large and very tasty hot dog.

My seat on the plane proved to be on the bulkhead row in coach. It was at least an aisle seat, so I was hoping to be able to work. Alas, no bandwidth on the plane. No problem: I'd have some concentrated quiet time to write.

No such luck. A father filled the window seat to my left, and he completely covered the middle seat with baby stuff. His wife and two kids were in the three seats across the aisle.

The row behind me held a father and two kids, with the mother and their other two kids on the opposite side.

The row behind that one held the same arrangement: two parents, four kids.

No kid in any of these rows was older than six.

All of them went off at once during take-off. We had an earache, several bored boys, and a variety of fights.

At no point during the next two and a half hours was there ever a single second when we didn't have at least one kid crying and two others fighting. Not once.

My favorite parent line: "No, Michael, I don't believe that Joey hit your thumb with his eye."

My favorite conversational snippet:

Child: Are we going to get a van?

Father: I'm not sure. We're going to get a vehicle of some type, maybe a van, maybe an SUV.

Child: What's a vehicle?

Father: Like a car or a van.

Child: Why didn't you say so?

Father: [sigh]

Child: What's an SUV?

Father: A sports utility vehicle.

Child: What kind of sports does it play?

Father: No, you use it for sporty things.

Child: What kinds of sports do you play with it?

Father: You don't play sports with them. You do things like drive off-road with them.

Child: Aren't you supposed to stay on the road?

Father: Yes. Don't worry about SUVs.

Child: What's u-til-i-til-i-tee?

Father: It's like a usage, a way you use something.

Child: But you said you don't use it for sports.

Father: Would you like me to buy you the cartoons they're playing on the screen here?

Child: Okay.

At least that part of the trip was fun, though it would have been more fun if the baby across the aisle hadn't been crying. If all the other kids had been quiet and just let this one grill his father, I would have been happy the whole flight. Alas, the conversation ended when the cartoons took over.

When we landed in RDU, I called the TSA airport office, which Gina had found and which is open around the clock. The guy there graciously said he would indeed try to open my bag with his TSA key. Of course, his office was in the farthest point in the opposite terminal from where I was.

When I got there, courtesy of Rana picking me up and looping around, the guy came out, put in his key...and nothing happened.

"That's strange," he said, "I've never seen it fail."

We tried many different combinations, but nothing worked. Eventually, we set the combination correctly, he held the key in the open position, and I pounded on the lock with the side of my fist--and one of the two zippers came free. A little more pounding freed the other.

I am so very glad to be home.

On the road again: Houston, day 1

2011-11-20T23:59:00.003-05:00

What is it with me and row-mates on flights? Today's flight found me on an airline with which I have no privileges but in an exit row window seat--not ideal, but pretty darn good.

An older couple were seated next to me, man on the aisle, woman in the center.

The woman's right arm was sprained and heavily bandaged. When the flight attendant came for the mandatory "can you open the emergency door?" question, the woman hid the bum arm under a jacket and lied that she could open and remove the emergency exit door should the need arise. I didn't call her on it because I was right next to the door, and I'm damn sure her arm wouldn't slow me.

The moment we took off, she and her husband brought out the snacks. A few seconds later, she started elbowing me in the ribs.

I moved as close to the bulkhead as I could and pulled entirely off the armrest.

She elbowed me some more.

I put my arm between us.

She pushed on it with her arm and elbowed it.

People have asked me why I don't verbally complain when these things happen. My answer is that nothing good comes of doing so and that I fear losing my temper. Recalling those questions, though, I decided to try today. I faced the woman and said, "Please stop elbowing me."

Her response: "Well, how else am I supposed to eat my popcorn and read?"

Her point was that with her hurt arm, reaching the popcorn bag between her legs meant her arm had to hit me.

I considered her answer rude and offensive, but I tried to rise above my initial reaction. I considered the question and after a few moments said, "I'm sorry for the difficulty, but I don't think it's reasonable that you keep elbowing me, particularly given that I'm as close to the bulkhead as I can be. Perhaps you could put down the book while eating the popcorn and hold the bag in your right hand."

She shook her head. "I don't like that. I want to read while I eat."

At that, she returned to her book and to elbowing me.

I stuck my arm between us and let her elbow it until she finished the bag of popcorn and took a nap.

I fought my anger the entire time.

The flight was otherwise good, though I greatly missed having an Internet connection.

After landing and getting the rental car, a process that is always slower than I like, we successfully navigated to our hotel. The bandwidth here is great, the best I've had this year from a hotel--and this is the least expensive hotel at which I've stayed for business. Bandwidth is frequently and frustratingly in direct inverse correlation with hotel price.

Dinner was at a nearby Rudy's, which admittedly is a chain but quite a decent one. We enjoyed brisket and jalapeno sausage, both of which were yummy.

I'll be here only until tomorrow night, when I fly home, but any trip that includes Texas barbecue is already a decent one.

Tower Heist

2011-11-19T16:09:00.003-05:00

is one of those movies that you can enjoy as long as you never engage your brain and just go along for the ride. If you think at all about it, however, you will be sorry.

The trailer tells you the whole basic story: nasty Wall Street trader steals gazillions of dollars from unsuspecting clients, a group that includes the staff of the luxury apartment building where he lives. One of them (Stiller) decides to assemble a team to steal back their money. It's a decent structure for a story.

The cast is full of good actors delivering good performances. I particularly like Alan Alda playing a bad guy; his normally smarmy nature works extremely well when he's saying evil things. The only actor whose performance was, as always, a vast empty sucking void of nothingness was Tea Leoni. I have never understood her appeal, nor can I recall a decent performance from her.

The problem with the movie is that it can't decide whether to fully embrace its unrealistic nature. Consequently, it alternates scenes of real people facing real issues with those of completely impossible action. The result is jarring, with the ending being the very most troubling part of the movie. I won't give the spoiler here, but suffice to say that after embracing its fantasy side for almost the entire last half hour, the film suddenly decides to hand us a token bit of realism at the last moment.

It's a huge mistake. The film should have stuck to it unrealistic roots and embraced them fully and unashamedly.

Still, I had a pleasant enough time watching it on a night after a good meal. I just can't recommend it unless you're jonesing for a movie, are in need of something mindless, and have a couple of hours to kill.

Not a bad answer

2011-11-18T17:23:00.003-05:00

As many of you know, one of my favorite films is Richard Curtis' The Boat That Rocked, which appeared here in the U.S. in a shorter (and inferior) version as Pirate Radio. What many of you may not know is that the deleted scenes from the film are often as good as anything in it.

In the deleted scene below, a rather pompous character, the DJ Gavin, explains the end of his quest to find the meaning of life. What Curtis offers isn't an answer, of course, but it'll do nicely on many days until something better comes along.

Enjoy.

Great cheeseburgers

2011-11-17T18:03:00.000-05:00

Cheeseburgers, really good ones, are among the many reasons I can't seriously contemplate becoming a vegetarian, as good as that would be for me.

In a few weeks, I'll be in Las Vegas again for the UFC show and our annual celebration of Kyle's birthday.

The combination of these factors led me to this article on the top five burgers in Las Vegas. I've eaten only one of them, the amazing FleurBurger (the regular one, not the $5,000 one made so pricey by a $4,929 bottle of wine), so clearly I have a lot to do.

Given that we're eating at Mesa Grill one night, I think a second of these will soon be in my belly.

Oh, yeah.

Two reasons you need to buy Gift Horse

2011-11-16T18:01:00.002-05:00

Gift Horse, if you don't already know about it, is the new album from Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers. It's a very strong album, with a lot of great songs. Rather than hit the first single they promoted, let me point you to two others, both via YouTube videos.

Start with this admittedly so-so video of "My Favorite Place."

Then, move to this stronger video of "Roots and Wings," which Sarah also touted on her travel blog.

Yes, you need to get this album.

Lessons I'm trying to learn right now

2011-11-15T20:38:00.002-05:00

Talk less. Listen more.

Talk less. Do more.

Take less credit. Give more credit.

A Very Harold & Kumar 3D Christmas

2011-11-14T18:50:00.003-05:00

Yeah, that's right: I went, and I'm even admitting it publicly. You know what else? It was funny, damn funny.

If you don't know the Harold and Kumar movies, of which this is the third, think Cheech and Chong for the new century, stoner films with fewer censors riding herd on them. Mix in a good helping of Neil Patrick Harris hamming it up, and you have a surefire recipe for dumb humor.

Well, okay, not just dumb humor: frequently offensive dumb humor. This film sets out to offend in every area it can, though mostly in gentle, elbow-lightly-in-the-rib sorts of ways, and it succeeds in doing just that. Whatever your religion, odds are the movie manages to take a gentle swipe at it. Its very fairness in picking on everything helps keep the humor fun and not mean.

It's tempting to label this sort of film a guy thing, but this one is not, or at least it wasn't on the night we went. About 40% of the audience was female, and the women were laughing as loudly as the men.

I should also note that this film never for a minute tries to be serious. It's a stoner fantasy fable from start to finish. That's a good thing, by the way; when this type of movie tries to be serious, it almost always fails badly.

I laughed a lot, and if the film has any appeal at all to you, I suspect you will, too. I even found the 3D effects, over-done and over-the-top as they were, to be worth the extra cost.

I can't wait for the unrated DVD.

Watch the Michigan anti-bullying law situation

2011-11-13T16:19:00.002-05:00

If you're not familiar with what's going on in Michigan, you're missing an amazing and frightening American political battle.

It started reasonably enough. Michigan is one of the few states that doesn't have an anti-bullying law, so it decided to address that shortcoming. The situation turned weird, however, when Republicans in its Senate transformed the law from one that condemned bullying into one that condoned it--as long as you learned how to explain your bullying actions. How did the Michigan GOP State Senators accomplish this feat? By adding a few key words to the law and saying that it did not apply to

“a statement of a sincerely held religious belief or moral conviction of a school employee, school volunteer, pupil, or a pupil’s parent or guardian.”

Think about this change in practice. I can call you any name I want, do anything to you I want, as long as I'm willing to say that my religion or morals endorse that belief. Beat you up because you're gay? No problem: my religion says it's wrong. Harass you because you're Jewish? Sure, because my religion says yours is not the one true way. It's a beautifully versatile exemption, because anyone can use it to justify anything.

What utter horseshit.

Bullying is wrong. Period.

The good news is that the Michigan House removed the language in its version of the bill. Though that's not as far as I'd like to see them go, at least it does delete the language condoning bullying. Now, the Michigan House and Senate have to thrash out this disagreement. They will do so with the eyes of the nation upon them.

We can only hope that the Michigan House triumphs in this particular battle.

Stupid responses to abuse

2011-11-12T17:02:00.004-05:00

As the news and Web chatter about the child-abuse case at Penn State grows and mutates, people all over the Web are understandably talking about it. This is a good thing: the more attention we bring to child abuse, the better. It is something we should stop.

Unfortunately, of course, some of the comments are offensively stupid. I've seen a few and had friends point me to others. Here are a few of the worst.

What did the child do to encourage the abuse?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing a child can do, no matter how outrageous the behavior, is reason enough for abuse.

In the main case here, we're talking an eleven-year-old boy being raped repeatedly by a grown man. Get this straight:

It is not the boy's fault. Rape is never the victim's fault.

It is the man's fault.

Come on, he was 11. That's hardly a child.

I'm so glad I only read this comment and didn't have someone say it to my face. I really don't want to get in more fights. I don't want to punch out a stranger.

This comment, though, deserves it. Yes, 11 is still a child. In case you haven't noticed, we have laws that specify when adulthood occurs, and 11 is years before that age. More to the point, though, just go see a few eleven-year-olds, or remember what you were like then. They are children. Period.

Why didn't the boy tell anybody?

Odds are, he tried. If he didn't, it was probably because the abuser told him not to, and because he was terrified. We're talking a child being raped by an adult in a position of trust. This child had no clue what to do, was terrified, violated, and in mental and physical anguish.

Why didn't the boy stop it?

First, see the punching comment above. Exactly how should the boy have stopped the abuse? Fought off the man? Over-powered him? Run away from home--a path as likely as any, by the way, to lead to more abuse? At age 11?

The boy was powerless.

I could go on, but you get the idea: When anyone tries to make this the victim's fault, that person is wrong. Period.

If you are an abuse victim yourself, and I am, you have heard all of these before. You have tried to tell people, and they have told you that what happened to you was your fault, or it was disgusting, or you should just get over it. You have learned to hide the abuse because surely, surely there was something you did to deserve it, something wrong with you that made this horrible thing happen to you, and you should have found a way to stop it.

No. No. No.

That is all bullshit. It is the set of lies others tell themselves to rationalize their acceptance of fundamentally unacceptable behavior or to avoid the ugly reality--an avoidance that encourages the continuation of these horrors.

Here is the simple, single most important truth:

It is not your fault.

You did nothing to deserve it.

You could not have stopped it.

It is not your fault.

In the Penn State case, it is not the fault of any of the boys. Saying otherwise is not only stupid but damaging, because each time someone says it, they condone abuse, and they are wrong.

Thanks to the vets who paid--and are still paying

2011-11-11T18:32:00.004-05:00

We should all take the opportunity today to thank the vets we know. Those who served in war paid a high price for doing their citizen's duty, and they are all still paying. I'd like to thank three different folks in this entry.

To my friend, Dave, I give my thanks for keeping it between the ditches even when going into them looked a lot less painful than motoring on. Dave's writing has helped a lot of fellow vets understand that they're not alone, that others do understand, and that though they may never again be who they were, they can spend a lifetime improving. I'm most particularly grateful for his friendship.

To my deceased stepfather, Edmund D. Livingston, Senior, I give my thanks for all the years of taking care of my mother, my brother, and my sister. Ed went ashore at Okinawa and watched as everyone around him was injured or killed. He was injured twice and carried shrapnel until the day he died. As I said at his wake, he wasn't my father--I was almost 17 when he and my mom married--but I would have been proud if he had been.

To Jester, a guy I know only in email, I give my thanks for holding it together and fighting every day not to use his training. We both know how easy that would be, but you are too strong, too good to give in. I thank you for putting back the tools of war, over and over and over.

Thank you, all.

Thank you, all who served.

Pissed and embarrassed

2011-11-10T20:59:00.001-05:00

My master's degree is from Penn State. I lived in Happy Valley for almost 18 months, 15 of them getting the degree and 3 working at a job I ended up hating. I've never had any huge love for the school, but I generally have fond memories of it, and I met a lifelong friend there.

I mention this because I'm pissed the child-raping scandal at Penn State has left me angry at the school and, irrationally, embarrassed at having ever been associated with it.

I understand that there's always a chance the allegations will prove to be unfounded, but based on the university's actions, I believe that's highly unlikely. (Ref., for example, this sports-oriented article. Or this one.)

Fans are feeling sorry for good old Joe Paterno. Fuck that. I have no sympathy. When you learn that an adult man has been raping a child, you don't call your bosses and shrug. You fire the guy, call the police, tell your bosses, and help the kid. You stop the abuse. I don't care if the abuser is your best friend or the most important person in your company; you stop the abuse. Period.

Fans are worrying over whether this event will color Paterno's great football record. I sure hope it does. He turned a blind eye to a man raping a child. He deserves all the suffering life can heap on him.

Fuck Joe Paterno and all the other gutless Penn State football and administrative staff who let this child raping continue. They deserve no sympathy. The raped child (or children, as it may well be) deserve our sympathy and our help.

The adults who let it happen deserve only our condemnation and the harshest penalties the law can throw at them.

It's almost time...

2011-11-09T23:59:00.003-05:00

...to watch this movie again. Yeah, I know it's not Thanksgiving yet, so I'm not putting up any holiday decorations, but that doesn't mean the movie isn't in my thoughts.

You see, Sarah will be home in about five weeks, and she's already decreed we'll watch it that first night.

Hell, yeah.

That's my daughter.

Tumor update

2011-11-08T21:11:00.003-05:00

Today, I spent most of the afternoon in the offices of the Duke Health Clinic waiting for and then talking with Dr. Ramon Esclamado. Dr. Esclamado leapt out of the online research as one of the leading surgeons in the country for dealing with tumors of the parotid gland, which is of course what I have.

The wait was entirely unreasonable, well over 90 minutes, but at least I was able to do email from my phone. Eventually, I did get to see the man. Despite my request to send his office my records, my ENT office had not done that. Esclamado listened, asked questions, and checked out the tumor. (The tumor's name, by the way, is Hymie, a friendly name for a benign tumor.) He wanted to be 100% sure it was a Warthin's tumor and wanted his own pathologist to check the tissue sample--hey, this is Duke!--so I agreed to a second fine-needle aspiration biopsy (FNA) right there and then. After all, it hurt not at all last time.

Ah, this time was a bit different. The pathologist came in and did not offer to numb the skin. She was moving fast and noted that she liked to take two extensive samples, i.e., to stick a needle in my face twice. She did. Each time, she rooted around like she was using that needle to check for underground cables.

The result was a more bloody, more cell-filled sample than the previous doctor obtained, which is good for accuracy but was definitely more painful to supply.

She took the samples outside--four of them, two from each session in my face--and read them at a microscope right there.

Conclusion: Warthin's Tumor, just as the previous pathologist had said.

Dr. Esclamado then returned. He said that in 24 years he'd seen the FNA be wrong exactly once, and that was a very long time ago. He said Warthin's tumors have zero chance of turning cancerous and basically are no problem. He said mine might stay as it is, or it might grow slowly. If it grows to the point that its appearance bothers me, he can take it out. It's also possible that when I get a cold (as I have now) or a sinus infection (as I just had), the tumor could get inflamed (it is not and was not, which is a very good sign), in which case they would give me antibiotics to reduce the inflammation, and then they would remove it.

Otherwise, though, he said there was absolutely no reason to take it out unless I just hated how it looks. He suggested I just leave it alone.

Considering that I spotted it only by accident and that I haven't met anyone yet who noticed it without me telling them it was there, I am indeed going to leave it alone.

If it one day grows big enough to bother me or starts becoming a problem with colds, I'll visit him again and schedule the surgery. He said he'd be shocked if that happened anytime sooner than a decade, and it very well might never happen.

So, like my broken arm and deviated septum, the tumor will be another sign of wear and tear that I will carry around with me.

I can live with that. In fact, I'm damn happy about it.

Hymie is here to stay.

On the road again: a long trip, day 13CONtraflow, New Orleans, day 5

2011-11-07T23:59:00.004-05:00

The morning went to work, though I did get some much-needed sleep before it. After checking out, we headed into New Orleans to a hole in the wall, Hobnobbers, that a con-goer, who was also a concierge, recommended. He said if you wanted real New Orleans food, you had to try it.

Damn, he was right!

It's a small place behind a bar, though you can reach it through a narrow covered alley that runs alongside the bar. Once you're inside, you see old tables, old chairs, metal on the walls, and linoleum floors. The initial vibe is sketchy...or charming, depending on your perspective. You go to a counter, place your order, get hassled by the perpetually annoyed woman taking orders, and pay in cash. No credit cards here.

The food makes it all worthwhile. The roast beef po boy was an amazingly tasty treat, though as folks had warned me, there's no way to eat it without covering your hands in its juices. The red beans and rice were the best I've ever had, and the sausage was damn fine.

I will definitely go back there the next time I'm in the area.

The rest of the day--and well into the next day, despite the timestamp--went to the usual rental car return, airport shuttle, security, waiting, flying, waiting, flying, waiting rituals of travel.

Unfortunately, today's flights were more interesting than usual.

No one wants interesting flights. You want calm flights. Standard flights.

On the first leg, a woman two rows behind me and to my right (I was lucky enough to have an exit-row aisle seat) went off. She was drunk and loud and obnoxious, but she turned truly shrill and annoying when she heard from another passenger that a flight attendant had (correctly) called her obnoxious. She then declaimed loudly for the rest of the flight and well into the terminal about how bad American Airlines was, what a great person she was, and then tons of personal details, from her name and number of children, to her destination, and so on. Wow. Where's the trank gun when you need it?

On the next flight, the one home from DFW, we started out late because of tornadoes to the east of DFW and lightning all around it. (As it turns out, the pilot told us that we were the last flight to the east to leave for quite some time.) The take-off and initial flight time were thus far more interesting than any of us wanted.

Still, I had a first-class upgrade, they brought me plenty to drink and a snack, and I was able to work. My ears still won't clear, but in time they will, so I can't complain.

In the end, I'm home and fine, which is all one can reasonably ask of any day spent traveling.

On the road again: a long trip, day 12CONtraflow, New Orleans, day 4

2011-11-06T23:59:00.008-05:00

I can tell I ran myself too far down in part from how long it's taking me to heal--I'm nowhere near healthy yet--and in part from the fact that no matter how much I sleep, I am always exhausted. Still, I will get there.

My con duties began today with the job of moderator on the panel, "Paranormal Skeptics vs. Believers." I began by revealing my bias--strongly on the skeptic/disbeliever side--and then asked the panelists to give their opening positions. As it turned out, David Brin and I held down the skeptic end, while three of the four other panelists took the believer position. (One said he was uninformed and open.) The discussion ran the full hour and was polite but occasionally rather lively. I think the audience had a good time, which is always the most important thing.

After a quick trip out for lunch, I acted as the auctioneer for the art auction, which was a decidedly low-key affair that raised a little money for the artists and a few dollars for Falling Whistles, thanks to some lovely pots the child con attendees had painted and donated.

Work filled all the free time in the day before, around, and after these activities except for a run for take-out Italian dinner and a short time at the dead-dog party.

The folks here love their con, love their town, love SF, and give their all to this event. I was honored to get to serve as their inaugural Toastmaster.

Oh, yeah: I promised to talk about the show.

I was to perform Mr. Poor Choices in the hotel bar/lounge, Rumors, at 11:30 last night. The problem is, the LSU/Alabama football game had ended not too long before that, and the local crowd was still celebrating the overtime LSU victory. The TVs were loud, the people were drunk, and almost no one remembered the comedy show.

For a bit, it looked like the show might not happen, but about 11:45 folks decided I should do it. They turned off the TVs, a very small crowd (maybe 20 folks, some of them not con attendees) gathered, and I took the tiny makeshift stage under the three very hot lights. I did a fifty-five-minute set, people laughed a lot, and everyone seemed happy at the end. It was a bit demoralizing going from over 400 folks at Balticon to fewer than two dozen here, but, hey, that's the gig, and I gave it my best. I received only praise, including from the bartender, who loved it, so I must have gotten at least some of it right. When I have time and bandwidth later, I'll study the video.

For now, I will finish work, pack, and then crash.

Tomorrow, I will work, hope to grab lunch in New Orleans, and do a lot of traveling and working en route to home.

On the road again: a long trip, day 11CONtraflow, New Orleans, day 3

2011-11-05T23:59:00.001-04:00

Today, as per the plan, the con kept me rather busy.

I began by emceeing the costume contest, which was a lot of fun. We had several very young fans in costumes, and all were cute and nice and exactly what you'd hope they'd be. The youngest, a twenty-two-month-old Tigger, kept charging the small stage, to the amusement of all.

After a dinner break, I then was the auctioneer for the slave auction, a local tradition. In it, volunteers agreed to be auctioned as "slaves" to others who got to be their "masters" for two hours. I put the words in quotes because all the services involved remained unspecified until after the auction and required the agreement of both parties. In addition to the people, I also had to auction a Kathy Ireland life-size cardboard cut-out and an inflatable love doll. The adults-only crowd was loud and very much into it, and we raised a fair amount of money for the con.

I'm writing this entry in the break between the end of the auction and my spoken-word show, Mr. Poor Choices. I'm performing in the hotel's lounge, Rumors, which has no real stage normally but which will put in a temporary six-inch one for me and illuminate me with three ceiling lamps. Given the state of my voice--rather tired at this point--I am glad I will have a mic.

Tomorrow, I'll report on how the show went.

Did I mention I heart Charlie Jane Anders?

2011-11-05T15:34:00.002-04:00

Glen Duncan wrote a silly and dumbheaded review here. SF blogs went up in arms immediately, with cause. A few folks have asked what I thought about it, but rather than write anything, I'm going to refer you directly to this wonderful response by the redoubtable Charlie Jane Anders.

I've met Anders but never had the chance to talk with her. One of my greatest regrets about getting so sick at this past World Fantasy Con is that as I was heading back to the room, shrunken in on myself and feeling horrible and shaky from fever, she said hi to me. I wish I'd been in shape to talk.

Anyway, if you don't know her work on io9, you're missing out.

On the road again: a long trip, day 10CONtraflow, New Orleans, day 2

2011-11-04T23:59:00.005-04:00

Today passed in a gumbo of con and work. After a morning work session, Publisher Toni took us into the French Quarter for a delightful lunch at Emeril's. Before you give a Bourdain-inspired jab at Emeril, note that his food has always been good--and was so today. Crucially, however, his banana cream pie recipe remains the best I've ever had. Getting to savor a piece today was a great treat.

After lunch, I worked out some opening ceremonies logistics with the redoubtable Raymond Boudreau, the con's assistant chair and guest liaison.

More work, then the ceremonies themselves, for much of which I was on the mic introducing guests. I started off terribly by, after a confusing set of conversations that I ended up misunderstanding, introducing the wrong person several times before finally giving control to the con chair, Rebecca Smith. My apologies again to Rebecca.

Dinner was a tasty muffuletta from a nearby small place, and then I hit a panel and visited with folks around the con. Work bracketed the con time, of course.

Tomorrow, I have an easy day followed by a very busy evening that will include an hour of stand-up in the hotel's Rumors lounge (yes, that is the real name). Wish me luck!

On the road again: a long trip, day 9Silicon Valley, day 4CONtraflow, New Orleans, day 1

2011-11-03T23:59:00.004-04:00

I'm never going to like a morning that starts with me rolling into the shower at four a.m., so today did not have a happy start for me. Two flights with a two-hour layover between them yielded about eight hours of head pain from almost complete ear congestion. Now, though, my ears are nearly back to normal, which is a treat.

DFW did bring the joy of the Red Mango parfait, three hundred delicious calories that brighten any day.

Unfortunately, DFW also treated us to a royal clusterfuck as the airport authority closed the Skytrains for a while. Walking from where we were to where we needed to be was possible but would have meant trudging for several miles--which is exactly what we started to do. We then encountered the aforementioned Red Mango, however, and could not pass it by. By the time we had enjoyed our treats, the trains were up and running.

We hit the rental car here at high rush hour, so the twenty-five-minute drive from the airport took more like a hundred minutes, none of them fun.

Now that I'm at the con hotel, though, all is well. Pre-con dinner with the con team was fun, the hotel is fine, the bandwidth (free) is better than what fancier hotels charge high daily fees to use, and my work is almost done.

Sleep awaits, and I cannot wait to greet it.

Oh, yeah: how great is this?

Insanely great, that's how great.

On the road again: a long trip, day 8Silicon Valley, day 3

2011-11-02T23:59:00.003-04:00

Today was work, work, and more work. Not much I can say about it.

My health continues to improve, though at a snail's pace. I'm fighting the coughing fits and slowly gaining ground, though tonight's minimal sleep will not help. (I hate getting up at four a.m.)

Because I have so little on which I can report aside from this blasted sickness, and because I'm bored to tears of that, I'm going to talk briefly again about PTSD sufferers in general and Dave in particular.

I've written many times before--and will no doubt write many times again--about the huge cost that trauma of certain types exacts from its victims. Veterans and abused kids are the particular groups I cover most often, because of my personal ties to and strong feelings about them--and because I am one of them.

At the risk of detracting from its mention in Dave's upcoming newsletter, the latest issue of which he was kind enough to let me read in advance of its general mailing, check out this photo of Dave, here a few years back from Viet Nam and slowly rebuilding himself from the rubble that experience made of him. I've known Dave since around 1982 and been his close friend since about 1985, and I can tell you that he looked better when I met him and has continued to improve.

This photo, though, is not of a man who fell apart. It's not of someone who committed acts of violence, or who fell into a bottle. The man in this picture had graduated from Duke Law School, was still married, was recently a father and an Assistant Town Attorney for Chapel Hill. He was writing.

This man was succeeding.

Still is.

This picture, though, captures in a perfect and wrenching instant the huge price Dave paid.

We cannot pay back Dave or any vet for his or her service; it doesn't work that way. We can, however, treat returning vets better, treat PTSD sufferers of all stripes better, and work diligently to avoid the need to subject more men and women to those experiences.

That, we can do, and we should.

On the road again: a long trip, day 7Silicon Valley, day 2

2011-11-01T23:59:00.003-04:00

In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. Decongestants, aspirin, and antibiotics all share one side effect: upset stomach. Add no food for a long time, then a fatty dinner, blend in the sickness you're trying to beat, and the result is a thirty-minute attack of wracking coughs at two in the morning. Wow, did that suck. I had forgotten just how much exercise you could get from coughing. I can't recommend it, however.

That's how the day began. The rest of the day went to work, about 17 hours of it, some of it live client meetings, some phone meetings, and a bunch of driving up and down the 101.

Room service dinner was a treat by the time I could manage it.

I'm way past sick of being sick. I am healing, but not fast enough for my taste.

While eating dinner, I saw on the Colbert Report a performance of a song from The Goat Rodeo Sessions. Everyone needs this album. Check out this Web exclusive video at Colbert Nation. Very cool stuff.

On the road again: a long trip, day 6World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 6Silicon Valley, day 1

2011-10-31T23:59:00.002-04:00

As you can tell from the overly long title, today was a travel day.

I awoke in San Diego feeling awful but definitely a tad better than the day before. Progress. After so much work I made us late, we did the pack/check-out/taxi/check-in/security tango and found our little commuter jet for LAX.

That flight was so short it barely had time to become unpleasant, which was quite nice. Unfortunately, a coughing spell hit me not long after boarding, so I had about half an hour of wracking pain.

LAX passed in a rush from plane to gate to shuttle to gate to plane, which was boarding when we reached it. Fortunately, a first-class upgrade had come through, so I was able to get plenty to drink and stave off the coughing during the slightly longer flight to SFO. I unfortunately could not fight the effects of a faster than normal landing process, so I emerged from the plane half deaf from the pressure in my head.

Go, decongestants, go!

After reversing the earlier dance, with a stop at a Safeway for crucial room supplies (water, Coke Zero, soft pretzels), I spent the rest of the day working.

Dinner was take-out from a nearby Max's. Mine was, of course, the traditional patty melt.

I passed exhausted a few hours ago, so I'm crashing. Ignore the timestamp of this post, for it is a lie.

Tomorrow, I have meetings, so I hope to be feeling a very great deal better.

On the road again: a long trip, day 5World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 5

2011-10-30T23:59:00.004-04:00

Today was not a good day, but today was, finally, the day I was expecting: I awoke feeling marginally better than when I went to sleep. I still have the fever and the draining and the coughing and the chapped nose and the raw lips, but I am ever so slightly better--or, at least, I believe I am--than when I crawled into bed. Plus, I did not wake up every single hour, a great treat.

My one con activity of the day was the awards banquet, which I did not want to miss. The food may have been the worst WFC banquet food ever, which is saying something. My entree, the inappropriately named tri-tips, looked and tasted roughly like what you'd expect if a pair of Shaquille O'Neal's dress shoes were chewed up and then spit out by the aliens from Attack the Block. By comparison, the paste-like mashed potatoes supporting them were miracles of culinary achievement.

Still, I am on the mend, and though the banquet left me shaking and exhausted, that is good news indeed.

Tomorrow, we head to another city.

On the road again: a long trip, day 4World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 4

2011-10-29T21:18:00.003-04:00

This is the con my sickness ate.

I hate it.

Each night when I go to sleep, I think that I will wake up in the morning having turned the corner toward good health.

Each morning, I wake up worse.

This morning was no exception. I saw every hour last night with a mixture of drainage and fever. It sucks.

Nonetheless, I decided I would keep all of my day's commitments. So, I got up early to take advantage of a gracious invitation from the redoubtable Bill Schafer of Subterranean Press to join the annual WFC breakfast. I was moving slowly, however, and so ended up arriving over an hour late. I apologized to Bill and moved on.

A few of us ate breakfast at another table, but I couldn't handle much. My sinuses were draining wildly, and my fever was spiking. I went to Dave's panel on krakens from the deep, but after stewing in my fever sweat and sinus drainage for an hour, I headed back to the room in defeat. Eventually, I ended up canceling a dinner I had very much wanted to attend. Aside from about two hours outside this morning, I will have spent the whole day in my room.

As I said, this sucks.

Today, though, has, I believe, brought the right combination of treatments to let me get better: antibiotics from the doctor for the sinus infection, Benadryl to stop the insane amount of drainage, and aspirin for the fever. (Don't suggest ibuprofen; I can't take it.) I am still measly, but this time I am confident: I will wake up feeling better tomorrow.

That's good, because I am going to the WFC banquet.

For now, though, I'll go back to stewing and feeling lousy.

On the road again: a long trip, day 3World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 3

2011-10-28T23:59:00.000-04:00

Today, probably aided by the antibiotics, my body went to war against the sinus infection that has robbed me of most of my voice. The good news is that I'll benefit from this battle in the end. The bad news is that today was pretty hellish.

I slept and worked until as late a lunch as I could manage. When sick and headed for a panel, you stick to health food, of course, so I had two hot dogs and some Coke Zero.

Thus fortified, I moderated my panel on the role of the misfit in fantasy. Thank goodness Jennie had persuaded the con Operations team to bring in a mic, because without it no one in the audience would have been able to hear any of us. The panel went reasonably well, the roughly 75 folks in attendance seemed to enjoy it, and I was generally pleased.

The one downside was that partway through the panel my forehead broke into a sweat as a fever overtook me.

After watching the next panel, I checked out some of the art show and then rested in the room for a while before dinner. Aspirin helped the fever, but my body is clearly not a happy thing right now.

In the evening, I went to a Baen dinner and then the WFC group signing, in which each writer sits in front of a folded sheet of paper with her/his name on it and hopes desperately that someone will bring by books for autographing. I'd had a pretty decent crowd the other night at The Mysterious Galaxy, so I wasn't expecting many folks tonight--and my expectations were correct. At least a few folks came by, which is better than some past years.

I'm fighting the fever again, so it's off to more rests. I sincerely hope for a better health day tomorrow.

On the road again: a long trip, day 2World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 2

2011-10-27T23:59:00.000-04:00

The antibiotics arrived today, which is good, and I am now taking them. I have to moderate a panel at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow, so I am hoping my voice is far closer to normal than today's version, which sounds a lot like a large frog croaking. At least you can hear me now from more than three inches away.

Most of the day went to work, but I did get to make a pass through the dealers' room (always a treat) and spend about two minutes browsing the art show. I plan to spend more time on the latter tomorrow.

The con highlight of the day was a presentation by some very entertaining and knowledgeable folks from the (deservedly) world-famous San Diego Zoo. They brought with them many very cool animals, including a great horned owl, a three-banded armadillo, a North American porcupine, a white-bellied tree pangolin, an African serval cat (which would never come out of its travel crate), and a binturong. Seeing them all in person was a great treat, and the lead presenter from the zoo made sure we were always entertained. The room was full of writers, everyone there no doubt making mental (and sometimes physical) notes for use in future works.

Tomorrow, I hope to have more voice back and to feel much better!

On the road again: a long trip, day 1World Fantasy Con, San Diego, day 1

2011-10-26T23:59:00.003-04:00

I hate this hotel's bandwidth. Hate it. Ready to go kill someone over it.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

I woke up after two and a half hours of nightmare-filled quasi-sleep. I was more tired when I got out of bed than when I entered it. Clearly, I'm having a stress crash.

Further evidence was my almost complete lack of voice. I coughed up green in the shower, my voice is still barely present, and I have to moderate a panel in well under two days. Oh, boy. The good news is that Rana persuaded my doctor to call in a prescription for antibiotics, and they will reach me in the morning.

The plane flights were reasonable. I was lucky enough to score an upgrade on the first leg, so I had space and all the water and Diet Coke I wanted. I also managed to doze fitfully.

On the second, I had an exit row aisle seat, and bandwidth was on offer, so I worked the entire flight and for a short focused time didn't worry about having almost no voice or a tumor in my face.

San Diego is, as always, an absolutely beautiful place. The hotel is lovely, the room is fine, the breezes are amazing, the balcony overlooks a pool...and the bandwidth sucks. Blows. It is the worst I've had in a decade, worse than the nightmare that was the blasted Omni in Austin. Amazing. If I can find other places on the grounds to work, I may be able to get by, but otherwise, I will have to find a local bandwidth source and spend time every day in it.

In the early evening, I paid the insanely high fare to go to the wonderful Mysterious Galaxy bookstore for a mass signing/party/author drop-in event. The staff were wonderful and gracious to all. The book selection was lovely; with a smaller crowd and some time, I could have dropped some serious coin there. To my pleasant surprise, half a dozen or more folks sought me out and had me sign books. Most of them had four or more books for me to sign. I was floored and grateful each time.

I dream of becoming a bestselling novelist whose autograph line stretches around the block. I don't expect that to ever happen, but if it does, I hope I am always and forever grateful to each person who shells out his or her hard-earned money for my books. I am now, and I think every writer should be.

Dinner was back at the hotel, followed by work and now, the crashing. Man, do I need some sleep.

The Three Musketeers

2011-10-25T14:50:00.000-04:00

Many movies are messes, unkempt things with weaknesses sticking out of them like unbrushed hair and dirt all over them and key bits in tatters. The fact that a film is a mess, however, does not mean it won't be fun.

After all, there are many kinds of messes.

The Three Musketeers is a very big mess that also just proved to be very big fun, at least for me. (The reactions among our group of eight were highly variable and ranged from "I can't believe I wasted my time on this" to "I loved absolutely every second of it.") The frequently silly plot was a mess, but the dialog was far worse. The steampunk tech was a mess that disregarded all real-world concerns. The comic relief was entirely too predictable. And so on; you get the idea.

Yet I enjoyed the movie.

Much of the acting was scenery chewing, but not all of it. Milla Jovovich was a pleasure to watch, delivering a relatively subdued performance, given the action and dialog, and actually showing a range of expressions. Matthew Macfayden and Ray Stevenson were reliably good. Orlando Bloom was better as a silly bad guy than he's ever been as the hero.

Sure, the younger cast members generally performed about as well as cardboard cut-outs of their faces, but they were also not particularly offensive.

The film's look and basic good heart, however, carried the day. A diver emerging from a Venetian canal. A hidden Da Vinci vault. Airships with cannons. Swordfights in slow-mo in a courtyard with peasants cheering the action. Silly fun, but fun indeed.

If you are looking for that fall film that will challenge your mind and enrich your soul, definitely skip this one. If you're willing to snack on some extremely pretty empty calories, though--and tonight I was--check out The Three Musketeers.

The tumor is benign

2011-10-24T17:01:00.003-04:00

My doctor called me a few minutes ago. The expert who analyzed my cells had called him, so he was being nice and calling me to relay the news.

To the best of the expert's ability to tell, the tumor is benign. There were no malignant cells or signs of trouble in the entire rather large sample.

This is excellent news. I am very happy.

The news actually gets slightly better.

The cells suggest the lump is most likely a Warthin's tumor. This type of tumor is highly unlikely to turn malignant and also unlikely to recur. Oddly, smoking is associated with it in several places I've read, and I've never smoked--though perhaps I'm paying for years of childhood secondhand smoke.

The other possibility is that the tumor is an oncocytoma. This type of parotid tumor is also benign, unlikely to recur, and unlikely to turn malignant.

I still have to interview doctors for the surgery and then have major surgery on my face, but this news makes today a good day.

Weird shit brings needles to my face

2011-10-24T13:27:00.004-04:00

The tumor news story of the day was my visit this morning to my doctor for what's known as a fine needle aspiration biopsy, or FNA. The idea is simple and useful: get some cells from the tumor so a specialist can stare at them under a microscope and declare them benign or malignant (and if malignant, ideally to name the type of bad cells they are).

The process sounds nasty: The doctor sticks a needle into your face to numb the skin. Then, after waiting a bit for the numbing to take hold, they stick in another needle and withdraw a bunch of cells.

The doctor also warned me that it would hurt like hell.

Consequently, when I entered the doctor's office this morning, I was expecting a rather unpleasant stay in his chair.

To my pleasant surprise, the FNA was no big deal. The numbing needle barely hurt at all, and the FNA needle, which was in my face for close to 20 seconds, hurt even less. I have to give my doctor credit; he did a great job. If this was all the tumor cost me, I wouldn't care at all.

Of course, that's not the case. What the tumor will at the very least cost me is major surgery on my face--and, of course, a ton of time and emotional energy.

The results of the FNA are likely to tell surgery is the end of the story. Three outcomes are possible.

The first, which is the least likely to happen, is that the results are "not diagnostic," i.e., the specialist who studies the cells can't tell what they are. In this case, another FNA is probably in order. I could live with that.

The second, which is far and away the most likely to happen, is that the results show benign cells. Over 80% of all parotid tumors are benign. In addition, everything about my tumor--no symptoms, cleanly defined mass, location on the superficial node of the gland--argues for it to be benign.

This is the outcome I want.

The third option, of course, is that the tumor is malignant, i.e., cancer of some sort. I'm still focusing on the belief that this one will not happen--and all the data so far argues against it.

No matter what, of course, I'll have surgery. I'm already set to interview my first doctor the day I get back from the upcoming thirteen-day trip.

I won't know the FNA results, sadly, until at best Friday, so until then I'll be on pins and needles a bit hoping the tumor proves to be benign. Thanks to all of you who have sent me notes of support; here's hoping the FNA brings good news!