Though I have been trained as a soldier, and participated in many battles, there never was a time when, in my opinion, some way could not be found to prevent the drawing of the sword. I look forward to an epoch when a court, recognized by all nations, will settle international differences.
– Ulysses S. Grant
An After Dinner Walk
by J. Kyle Kimberlin
There was a day, late summer because the days were still long and warm, when after dinner we decided to go for a walk. I thought it was a poor idea, being full and sleepy; I wanted to sit and watch a game or the news. To have the cat jump up in my lap and fall asleep, purring. But we started out, briskly, and she was in the lead as always, with her quick clipped steps. By the time we passed the gray bungalow with white window frames, two doors down, she was pulling ahead. She walked like a school principal, on her way to break up a fight.
Hey, after dinner walks are customarily taken at a more leisurely pace.
Oh, you have the book of customs for taking walks. I’ve been looking everywhere for that. You need the exercise.
Madam, I will not have you exercise me like a dog. Slow down and enjoy the stroll, or forge ahead alone.
No need to get mad.
I’m not. I’m just saying.
The needles of the fir tree in Mrs. Aldernecht’s front yard had fallen to fill her bird bath again. The morning paper was gone from her drive, which meant she was getting too old to care for the birds, but not too sick to leave the house. I was relieved.
Two doors father and across the street, Charlie Harmon stood in his open garage, polishing his Yamaha. His wife had left him, took the kids, but he kept those tires black and the chrome bright. He had a new satellite dish, bolted to the chimney at the peak of the roof. We waved.
We got to the end of the block and turned, and turned again, circling back to the house. In the kitchen, she poured a glass of wine. She offered me the bottle but I shook my head.
You didn’t want to go on, I said.
What?
We went around the block, and didn’t go on to the park.
No. And she went on to watch Jeopardy on the bedroom TV, to change her clothes, to drink the wine. I sat at the table and watched the last light from the window slide from a metal rooster trivet hanging by the stove.
I wished we had gone on to the park, so I could pick a flower for her to hold. Someone would be playing Frisbee with a dog.
Everything would be different if she had held the flower I picked for her, watched the dog running and jumping. We would have gone on to the playground, and seeing the children playing there, we would have gone home to make our own. Charlie would have sold the bike and got his wife and family back, and I could have cleared the needles and filled the birdbath with water, to keep Mrs. Aldernecht from the nursing home.
We turned and turned and the dog never played. The sun went down, came up and there was a day after dinner when she wasn’t there. Then neither was I, but sometimes I pick a flower, hold it for a while, and when nothing happens, I let it drop.
An After Dinner Walk by J. Kyle Kimberlin is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
glorious enthusiasm like worship
A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.
– John Muir, naturalist, explorer, and writer (1838-1914)
The Paredon Fields
The following map shows the locations of the Paredon oil fields, the deposits in which Venoco Inc. hopes to drill, if Measure J passes on June 8.
The source of this map is Section 5.0, Alternatives Analysis, in the Paredon Project EIR (Environmental Impact Report).
Click the map to view a much larger version.
Oil deposits are shown by the blue shapes.
CPF stands for Carpinteria Processing Facility, and marks the location of Venoco’s property near Tarpits Park and the Seal Rookery, the Carpinteria Bluffs Nature Preserve.
Talented Young Pickers
blowout
This Is Not A Political Platform
the nation opens up
One of my favorite magazines, The Nation, has totally revamped – re-launched – its web presence, and taken its website code open source. Very cool.
They’ve posted an article explaining the latter change, from which here are a couple of fair use snippets:
The specific platform we’re using for TheNation.com, Drupal, has a progressive lineage as well. Described as "Software to Power the Left" by new media thinker David Cohn, Drupal was the foundation for the groundbreaking "DeanSpace" online community in 2004, and has since been used and improved by dozens of leading progressive advocacy groups. Today Drupal powers the websites of publications like The New Republic, Mother Jones and The Economist, and provides the content management platform for a little site called WhiteHouse.gov. …
What, if anything, does this mean for TheNation.com readers? The great thing about Drupal for a news organization is the flexibility that a public, continuously evolving platform provides. If we wanted to build an interactive package to amplify a groundbreaking investigation, it used to take days. Now there are thousands of programmers who can build it fast – or have already built it. If we want to change the layout of our homepage or special section to reflect the significance of an unanticipated breaking news event, it used to take three weeks. Now it takes three clicks.
The Nation is a great magazine. It’s been around since 1865, with a firm grip and clear view. I started reading it in college in 1985. Highly recommended for all of my progressive friends.
foxit is fine
This week on pcworld.com, an editor has reviewed Foxit Reader, an alternative to Adobe Acrobat Reader. Foxit is known for being lightweight and agile, while still offering some features that Adobe Reader doesn’t. For example, the ability to add sticky notes to comment on the text.
I’ve been using it for a couple of weeks, and it’s pretty cool.
As with almost everything I suggest here on Metaphor, it’s free.
So how’s the book going?
Well. I’m very something that you asked.
That doesn’t really tell you much, does it? There’s a lot of writing there, and some of it isn’t bad. A little is pretty good. But it’s lumpy in spots and thin and threadbare in others and it needs a lot of smoothing out and filing in. I think what it needs is a good road maintenance crew, as much as it needs a writer.
Yes, cracks and potholes and places where the pavement’s too thin. And some of the more interesting gaps are in places where the narrative stretches out over jagged rocks and rushing creeks. Don’t look down.
I might share a fresh-baked morsel with you, gentle readers, but when I’ve done that before … well, let’s just say the crickets were coming through loud in here. So let’s not.
Those who have followed my scintillating adventures with software and file management will note note with indifference that I’m still writing with Microsoft Word 2003. Oh I paddled back and forth between Word and OpenOffice writer for a while, finding arcane and subtle differences between features and processes, customization, etc. And now I’m treading water. I like them both.
Writer has compelling advantages, including the fact that it’s new and free. Word has the advantage that I already own it, which makes the free-ness of Writer irrelevant to me.
Here’s a Web site with lots more comparison info. But the bottom line for today is, Word’s a little better if you’ve got it. Writer’s a lot better than spending money, if you need it.
At the present, I’m working with the manuscript in 38 separate numbered Word files, kickin’ it old school. This is because Word choked a couple of nights ago and crashed and scared me. That’s when it was all one 239 page file, and I was moving chunks of text around. So I’ll let it work on smaller servings for a while.
Sic ‘em!
Animal Planet Investigates: Petland
A comprehensive investigation of large-scale commercial dog breeders, known as puppy mills. Its primary target and defendant in an HSUS lawsuit: the largest puppy-selling retailer in the country, Petland.
May 17, 10:00 pm (60 minutes)
I can’t wait!
das boat
Ever wonder why the castaways on Gilligan’s Island didn’t fix the boat? It had a hole in it, but it wasn’t destroyed. They made huts and stuff, all sorts of gadgets – even a bamboo car – but they never bothered to try to patch up The Minnow.
I spotted this cool bit over at Boing Boing, on he themes and symbolism of the show:
“Without benefit of any huge bureaucracy or powerful tribunal, the castaways principally live in peace. More important than any traditional codification of laws is simply their collective treatment of one another. …The peculiarities and blunders of each inhabitant are admitted and tolerated. Their differences are simply noticed and granted — not violently opposed.
Even this lofty theme is not the primary thesis. … The most remarkable message of the tale lies in the paradox of the concentrated lust of the castaways — their burning desire to go back. Back to a time and a place that is more familiar and romantically remembered as "better."
The tragedy of the tale is not that they can never go back. The real affliction is the wish itself. They are all so preoccupied with the notion of going back that they never realize they are already in paradise.”
It’s true, they never do get off the island, though they might have if the show hadn’t been cancelled after 3 seasons.
So it goes.
Metaphor 