Monthly Archives: February 2008

In Which LOST Makes My Little.Brain Hurt.

Boy, howdy, I loves me some Lost.

But my little brain can only soak up so much of it in an hour — I miss a lot of the little details and some of the philosophy/sci-fi references go right over my head.

That’s why I find J.Wood’s blog at Powell’s Books as important a part of the Lost experience as watching the show itself. It adds whole new levels of understanding to my enjoyment of the show, and if Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse intend even half of the subtext that this guy pulls out of it, they are not just great writers who know how to tell a good story, but sheer frikkin’ geniuses.

J. usually has his posts up by Friday evening/Saturday morning. Since I got to work this morning, I think I’ve hit refresh 48 times. No post yet, but then last night’s episode was particularly wow, so no doubt it’s taking a while. Go. Read. Now. Enjoy.


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Filed under meanderings, tv

Things I Never Thought I’d Say

With a new blog comes a new category of posts: Things I Never Thought I’d Say as a parent. Every parent has these, and there are the obvious Things:

  • Because I Said So
  • Go Ask Your Mother
  • I’ll Give You Something To Cry About
  • Just Wait Until We Get Home
These are not those Things. These are unique Things, like this one that I found myself yelling last night (which shall be entered here as Things I Never Thought I’d Say #1):
  • Boys! No More Baseball In The Car!


Filed under boys, Things: boys

In Which Jesse Jackson Saved My Life.

Inspired by a poll over at This or That, I hereby recount the story of how Jesse Jackson saved my life:

In 1987, my parents, my sister, my aunt, my cousin and I all piled into our station wagon and left Olympia, Washington, for a journey around the United States.

At that point, I had been to California twice, northern Idaho many times, and just over the border into BC. This time, we were actually traveling to a different time zone.

A couple of weeks (and many memories) later, we pulled into New Jersey for a two-night stay. The next morning, my dad and I boarded a Greyhound bus for New York City while the rest of the family stayed at the hotel for a day of swimming. We spent the day doing touristy stuff — going to the Statue of Liberty, looking out from the roof of the World Trade Center, visiting Times Square, etc.

At this last stop I bought a couple of cassette tapes from a guy selling them on the street (BellBivDevoe for $2? He must be insane!) and at another table I bought a Jesse Jackson campaign pin to put on my denim jacket next to my INXS, Depeche Mode and Max Headroom pins.

Jesse Jackson 88

Waiting at the crowded station for our bus back to Jersey, I noticed two African-American men nearby who had started to argue. It wasn’t anything violent, just a disagreement between friends, but to a 13-year-old visiting the Big City for the first time, it was pushing in on my comfort zone.

As I watched, the friendly disagreement got a little less friendly, and became physical as one of the men shoved the other, who promptly shoved him back.

Into me.

I was a fairly quiet kid, and I never got into a fight the entire time I was in school, so physical confrontations are something I’m not real familiar with. I’m sure I froze and my eyes were probably huge as he turned around and grabbed both lapels of my jacket, like he was going to throw me up against the wall or under a bus.

“Hey, what are you–” he started, and at this moment, I knew I was going to die, and I was OK with it — I had accepted Jesus, kissed a girl, and now I had seen Times Square.

But then the magic of Jesse fell upon us as he noticed the pin on my jacket and stopped in mid-sentence.

The man touched the pin with one hand as he brushed off my jacket with the other and said, “Hey, you alright, man,” then louder to his friend, “Hey, man, he’s alright! He’s votin’ for the brother! You alright, man!”

And they walked off, repeating, “He’s votin’ for the brother. He’s alright.”

It was over as quickly as it had started.

I’ve heard stories about people having a “God-shaped hole” in their heart, but that day I discovered that I’d had a “Jesse Jackson-shaped hole” in my heart and never knew it. Now there is a special place in my heart for Jesse Jackson. He saved my life.


Filed under travel