I Oversaw A Conversation Today

Driving back to the office from lunch with colleagues this afternoon I found myself at a stoplight and next to a car with two people having an animated conversation in sign language.

What struck me was the fact that both of them were smokers with cigarettes burning between the index and middle fingers of hands they were using to sign.

It was like the old days, when we'd smoke and talk at the same time with cigarettes hanging out of the corners of our mouths and bobbing up and down as we spoke.

In this case, the cigarettes were waving about for the larger gestures of sign language and deftly switched from hand to hand for the finger-spelling part.

Fascinating.

Music Map of North America: Looking for Ideas

Originally uploaded by mmahaffie.

I've been thinking about creating a playlist of songs about North American history. I thought I'd start a music map to keep track of the "where" of songs as I think of them.

This is a work in progress. I'm looking for ideas; what other songs should I consider?

Fritz Takes a Helicopter Ride

Fritz Schranck, who blogs Sneaking Suspicions, took a Helicopter Ride over southern Delaware on a sunny day recently. Nice photos, Fritz!

More on our Controlled Burn

Today's Cape Gazette (expect the story to move off this front page by 5/10 at the latest) included a short story on the controlled burn Colleen and I watched a bit of the other day.

It turns out that the burn was part of a neighborhood clean-up project initiated by the Cool Spring Community Association, a newly-formed neighborhood group. I like them; they get things done.

An interesting side note: the burn appears to have inspired several residents to want to become part of the volunteer fire company.

Everyone Is A Newbie At Something

Matt Haughey, founder of MetaFilter and a web and blogging star, this week became a first-time dad. It's nice to know that even Matt gets to be a "newbie" at something.

Mazel Tov, Matt!

Controlled Burn. Station 85.

Colleen and I came upon this controlled burn, near Coolspring, on our way back from the stables this evening. There was a plume of black smoke on the horizon, on our way home, so we had to have a look.

I had a feeling it would be a controlled burn. I had seen several Milton Volunteer Fire Company (Station 85) trucks headed south from town, past the stables. They were not flashing lights or sounding sirens, but were headed away from their station. They appeared to be headed for something organized, but not an emergency.

In fact, they were planning to burn down two very old houses along Fisher Rd. This one was fully involved. A second, a few doors down, was just starting to smoke when we went by.

Controlled burns are an interesting loophole activity. They serve to train fire fighters in how houses burn. They also serve to get rid of old houses for landowners. Sounds like a win-win.

But, think about it. If you were to tear down these houses and then burn the resulting debris pile to get rid of the mess, it would be at least a source of air pollution and maybe a violation of environmental law.

Burn 'em down as training? No problem.

There's a small, contrary, curmudgeonly voice inside me that also asks: what are we training the firefighters to do here? Watch a house burn completely to the ground?

I'll ignore that small, cranky voice, however.

Mom's Childhood Home

On our way to Polly's wedding we formed a six-car caravan. We were following Jim's car, from which Mom navigated us through the neighborhoods of Old Greenwich to the home in which she grew up.

This is it, with at least one addition.

I have vague memories of this place. My granny lived here through the first five years or so of my life. I do remember the timber-frame style. I remember that tree on the right. I remember the streets trending down to the shores of Long Island Sound.

We must have caused some consternation in this neighborhood. A line of cars from several states pulled up in front of a house and a group of all ages, dressed in wedding finery, piled out to stare at the house.

It was important to visit. I'm glad we did.

Road Trip to Connecticut

Colleen and I are in Stamford, Connecticut for my Cousin Polly's wedding today. We drove up yesterday; a long, dreary, rainy traffic-plagued ride up the Jersey Turnpike, across the George Washington Bridge, through the Bronx, and into Connecticut.

Colleen helped me out with a small photo-experiment in which I had her take a photo out the front of the car from her post in the passenger seat every half-hour. I think it would have turned out better had it been a nicer day.

Karen and Christina, meanwhile, are in the Washington area visiting our in-laws for the Orthodox Church's Easter celebration today (Karen was raised in the Orthodox Catholic Church and that's where we were married).

We've had to split the family this week-end, but at least this way we can cover all our diverse family events.

Don't Panic!

Originally uploaded by Divisible Eye.

I dragged Karen out to see the new movie version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy tonight. It was not really her cup of tea, but Karen is an ever-patient partner and indulged me in this.

The original Guide -- radio show, book and TV show -- and its author, the late Douglas Adams, helped form my world-view; I had to see this movie.

I had to see it, but I was worried that it might not be up to the challenge. I have to say, though, that I enjoyed it. It works!

My only regret is that, if this is a hit, everyone will get the "so long and thanks for all the fish!" joke.

By the way. The re-make miners in Hollywood seem to have it a rich vein of my youth. We saw previews for a remake of The Pink Panther and Herbie Fully Loaded (remember the Love Bug?). Out in the lobby was a poster for a coming movie version of Bewitched.

It's a good thing I was paying attention back in the 60's and 70's. This feels like that one time I'd actually done the reading before class!

In Which I Offer a Prayer for the President of the United States

Please, God. Teach him how to say the word "Nuclear."




Before I have to tear my ears out by the roots.