Airport Prose

Sitting in PDX airport. Heading back to Wiesbaden. Eating a dry
chicken salad sandwich. Writing gerund phrases.

Vast Losing Streak

I'm sure you blame your losing streak on a "vast, right-wing
conspiracy," don't you?

Famous First Lines

Match the title of the story/novel with its first line.

(taken from Art Peterson's The Writer's Workout Book)

A. Fahrenheit 451- Ray Bradbury

B. Peter Pan- J. M. Barrie

C. Flowers for Algernon- Daniel Keys

D. One Hundred Years of Solitude- Gabriel Garcia Marquez

E. Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man- James Joyce

F. 1984- George Orwell

G. The Great Gatsby- F. Scott Fitzgerald

H. Call of the Wild- Jack London

I. Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte

J. The Hounds of Baskerville- Arthur Conan Doyle

K. The Metamorphosis- Franz Kafka

_______Dr. Strauss say I should rite down what I think and remember and evreything that happins to me from now on.

_______It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen.

_______Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.

_______When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin.

_______It was a pleasure to burn.

_______In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me sane advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

_______Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table.

_______There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.

_______All children except one, grow up.

_______Once upon a time and a very gootime it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named tuckoo...

_______Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

The Audacity of Openness

I flew from Frankfurt to Portland yesterday (and boy, are my arms tired!).

It was a 10+ hour flight, and I stayed awake to read Obama's book cover to cover. I really enjoyed it, especially the chapter titled,"Opportunity." I can see why the masses like this guy. Aside from his fresh perspective, he seems kind to those who arrive at different conclusions than his own. This is something that most other Democrats in and out of the public eye need to be more gracious in. A multi-faceted society with different belief structures only seem to be praised if you agree with the proposition, whether abortion, gay marriage, etc. It's not often that liberal folks are willing to acknowledge that there are other valid viewpoints besides their own. This often frustrated me in political discussions with friends and reading pieces in the media. There's little point in talking with someone if they already have the you're-an-idiot-if-you-believe-that mentality. And honestly, I feel that in my experience as a conservative, that it often the place where the conversation begins.

Perhaps it's a simplistic reason to support a presidential candidate, but I liked that perspective from Obama. His book seems to have that openness that many do not. I think that openness of that sort is the marking of a good leader and a good person. I wish that some of the people in my life would show similar willingness to find out why I believe in a tenet that they do not. They do not have to accept, agree, or even like it, but there should be a desire to know more about a topic simply because someone they know believes it.

Of course, this applies to politics, religion, or liking a particular movie.

Dear Wisconsin: Crush Hillary, Please

Now I Know How Jack Bauer Feels

By the time I went to bed yesterday, I had been up over 24 hours.

I arrived in Portland yesterday afternoon, and then I made my way to
the Hotel Fifty. Kristie and I met Maria, Ben, and Sophie at
Pambiache, a cuban restaurant. We went to Maria's to see Bert, their
new puppy, then had desert over Ben and Jessica's. Not bad for my
first day in the city.

Unlike Jack, though, I had plenty of bathroom breaks throughout my
episode.

Across the Atlantic, I Think

I'm going to Portland this week for a writing conference, and I'm in
a difficult place right now. The passenger beside me has an odor
problem. When I got up to let him in during boarding, he breathed his
unimaginable bad breath my way, knocking me down and summoning all
Christian charity that I have. He took off his worn tennis shoes and
pushed them on my side, like an annoying big brother trying to claim
unclaimed territory. He then has a habit of raising his arms in a
stretch, extending the reach of an unholy stench. He constantly
coughs, and he has a nose whistle.

Other than that, the flight is going swimmingly.

Mine Only Has a Percentage Symbol

Eric, Glenn, and I went to Cologne on Saturday, and visited the Gestapo Prison Museum. I'm not sure of the official name, but it was the place where the SS held prisoners during the questioning period. The item I found most interesting was this typewriter with an SS symbol above the number five.

Even though we've lived in Germany over 18 months, it was my first WWII site.

Cologne- Then and Now

Roman Mosaics

From the Roman-Germanic museum in Cologne. During a digging project to create an air raid shelter in 1941, Germans uncovering this house from a Roman merchant dated back to the 3rd century. Here is a beautiful mosaic from his dining room. That's Eric and Glenn trying to look interested.

All we have in our dining room floor are scratch marks and bits of crumbs from last night's supper. It's nothing that the future archeologists will get too excited over.