They're here!

EVERYONE has been clamoring for more pictures of Elaine, and of our basic situation. Well, not anyone here, exactly, but there were many people.

If you click on THIS, you will experience a slideshow treatment of photos and videos from the 3rd and 4th month of our daughter's life.

If you click on THIS, there will be more of the same from November thru January.

If you click HERE, you will be amused.

If you click HERE, you will be disturbed.

I could go on.

The Way it Sounds to Me: Best of 2007

It's kind of a joke for me to write a Best of... entry, since I've barely heard a tenth of the interesting music that was released last year. However, I can comment on what I have encountered and crown a few winners, plus I've had a few beers, so bite me.

Best of 2007
Deerhunter Cryptograms

Timeless. This album spans a wide variety of musical styles, and DAMN, it sounds really good. Half the songs are "rock", while the remainder are some form of electronica. Three or four tracks are straight ambient, but are among the most beautiful and interesting ambient that I've ever heard. Truly tracks for the headphones or a nice system. Some of the early rock tracks are driving noise pop, with insistent bass lines and emotive vocals that are distorted beyond recognition. These include the title track and Lake Somerset, where vocalist Bradford Cox sounds like crackling energy, moaning and ranting about god-knows-what. A hybrid song, Octet, incorporates the more accessible electronic/ambient style with an addictive bassline and noise pop/shoegaze sensibility. But after another ambient track, these styles synthesize with a dose of dream pop for some really nice psych-pop songs like Spring Hall Convert, Strange Lights, and especially Hazel St. I've listened to this about 30 times and it has yet to approach getting old.

Best of the rest (in alphabetical order)

!!! Myth Takes
Experimental dance-rock record that calls to mind the Talking Heads with the addictive polyrhythmic instrumentation and emotive vocalizations, but the whole package comes off as edgier and less apologetically dance music. Great sense of humor, great variety of styles.

Antibalas Security
Everyone needs this album. Antibalas has been around for awhile as a collective that focuses on Afrobeat, somewhat in the style of Fela Kuti. You will move. You will keep moving. It is good for you, plus there's the side benefit of subliminal antiestablishmentarianism. Deep, organic, real.

Arcade Fire Neon Bible
Already discussed at length here.

Arthur & Yu In Camera
Very nice album of well-crafted 60's psych/folk/pop tunes. At first, it sounds like a contrived gimmick, but as you get deeper into the record, and the songs are still so good, you realize that they really know what they're doing. Great comfortable music to put you in a good mood.

Battles Mirrored
Battles is usually described as math rock, which implies mostly instrumental tunes that use complicated time signatures. Battles pulls this off with great rhythm, and often mind-blowing precision. Take the concept behind speed metal, slow it down for us older people, and eliminate anything unnecessary, including the screeching solos; add in some funk and crazy creative knob-twisting, and you have the goodness that is Battles. What a great-sounding album!

The Field From Here We Go Sublime
My prior experiences with techno involved watching a smackhead co-worker glide around the kitchen in ridiculously large pants to very loud bootleg DJ mixtapes instead of doing his job. Needless to say, I was reluctant to explore further. I picked this up because of its high MetaCritic score, and was not disappointed. This got heavy playtime during my thesis preparation, and I still love it. I don't know enough about the process of making this type of music to write intelligently about it, so I'll settle for "minimalist techno that builds beautiful layers amid soothing washes of white sound". I doubt that techno gets any better than this. Close runner up for Best of 2007.

Great Lake Swimmers Ongiara
Beautiful and spare
songs of nature, love and loss
Best band name, ever

Our Brother the Megazord Time the Teenage Twister
Detroit artist Randolph Chabot, Jr. is your typical dude-with-a-laptop, guitar, and synth who makes music in his basement. He performs as Deastro, Our Brother the Megazord, or Jr. Jr. to showcase different flavors of his musical interests. This record, available only through CD Baby, is largely electronic experimental pop. Lots of it is kind of dreamy, and highlights his good instincts, great voice, and a sense of humor.

Panda Bear Person Pitch
The record that would have happened if Brian Wilson had taken a bunch of drugs back in 1965 and had access to a Mac stuffed with samples and mixing software. Great '60s tinged tunes with the freedom to grow on their own. Panda Bear is one part of Animal Collective, who specialize in slightly more freaked-out song styles, so it's really nice to get his perspective in clearer light. "Bros" is one of my songs of the year, and is the ultimate song for walking or biking around on the most gorgeous, relaxed day of summer. You WILL have a huge grin on your face, looking at all the wonderful people who must all be doing wonderful things and thinking wonderful thoughts in this wonderful day. This is a close second place for Best of 2007.

Radiohead In Rainbows
OK, I'm cheating. I haven't actually bought this yet, but the local station, KEXP, has played most of the tracks for me at this point, and it is pretty fantastic. I especially like "Bangers and Mash", off the second disc. I look forward to eventually getting this and playing it to death.

Stars of the Lid And Their Refinement of the Decline
I'm including this because of how much play it got this year. It had the dual effect of providing great background to my thesis writing, and it would help Elaine get to sleep. This is total drone-core, comprised entirely of sparse waves of sounds generated from synths, piano, guitar, horns and strings. It moves so slowly that it really takes several listens to feel the rhythm and melody of any one track. One review that I read called it music to accompany the end of the world, to echo through crumbling cities. Apt.

I only had so much money to spend on music, so I may have missed out on other gems. Notably, I haven't heard the 2007 releases by Iron and Wine, LCD Soundsystem, Burial, Eluvium, Blonde Redhead, Beirut, Band of Horses, Feist, Robert Plant & Allison Krauss, Caribou, Liars, Stars, The Good The Bad and the Queen, Okkervil River, and many others that seem to be right up my alley (That's right, I name-drop. Whaddyagonnadoaboutit?).

I think that 2008 will be the year that I make an effort to explore more female vocalists. I've been impressed with the work of Leslie Feist, Cat Power, and Neko Case-- heck, even Goldfrapp has some new stuff coming out that is a departure from the dancehall. I'm also hearing some really cool alt-country and folk on KEXP that I want to check out. The new Tyler Ramsey sounds amazing, as do the offerings I've heard from Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Drive-by Truckers, and The National.

Finally, HEY! LEMON JELLY! MORE MUSIC PLEASE!

That is all.

The new look

I decided to join the ranks of the erudite and pretentious by having a hopelessly obscure moniker for my web log. Rather than use my imagination to assemble a phrase that had some bearing on my experience, I used a random phrase generator, repeatedly pressing "GENERATE" until something appropriately precious emerged. After that, it was simply a matter of spinning myself violently around until the nihilism took over in order to flesh out the facade.

I'm exhausted from these efforts, so I'm asking for your help in coming up with an appropriate image to murkily reside in the background. Look at the phrase. Listen to it. What is it saying to you? Cradle it in your slowly dying arms and love it. Then (quickly!) give me your mind-picture.

Less creepily, I was sick of the blog title, and I'm transitioning to something else. I'm leaning towards having fun with it in the interim, and I'm soliciting opinions, suggestions, etc.

(Edit: No one gave me their mind-picture. Dammit! So, I went with Lovecraft. Can't go wrong with good ol' H.P.)
(Edit II: Good ol' H.P. got old on me quick, so I punted. ALL THE GOOD BLOG TITLES ARE TAKEN.)
(Edit III: Still soliciting opinions, suggestions, but I'm obviously not expecting much from you bunch of deadbeats. That's right. I called your asses out.)

To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough

To our friends in Scotland, those who have been, and all friends of mice...

"Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!"

-Robert Burns

Time to get brewing!

More sad economic news: Smaller than average crops of both hops and barley will lead to an increase in the price of craft beer from smaller companies, and could lead to outright collapse of some microbreweries. A combination of poor harvests in Europe and the weak dollar have driven up costs of the ingredients, and also aluminum, steel for the kegs, and cardboard. Another contributing factor to the hops and barley shortages appears to be that farms are switching to the more profitable corn crop.

Large hop farms have driven the cost of hops down over the last 20 years, which has made farming hops on a smaller scale barely profitable. Furthermore, large corporations that make an entire line of spectacularly crappy products, such as Anheuser Busch, have contracts with hop and barley farms that lock in a specific price over a period of time, AND gives them first pick of the harvest. Although a beer like Budweiser has significantly less hops and barley than Bell's Oberon, there is much, much more Budweiser produced annually. Bell's recently announced that they were only able to secure about 60% of the Czech Saaz they need for this year's batch of Oberon, so they are experimenting with different varieties.

Even a larger craft brewer like Sam Adams is feeling the pinch, and they expect to charge more per six-pack this year and next. Most articles that I read forecasted a $1-3 increase per six-pack for most craft beers, although some brewers may elect to absorb the cost.

So what does this mean to us, the beer-drinking lobby? Brew your own! When we were in the beer supply the other day, the proprietor apologized for the higher cost of the hops ($4.50/2 oz.). However, I found a grower who will ship vacuum-sealed packs of freshly grown hops for $2 an ounce, so I figure we'll plan our next few batches and place an order. First up: Vagabond Gingered Ale! I think we'll get a brown going fast on the heels of that.

I got my info here, here, and here.

Calling Smith, Keynes, and Greenspan, and other dinosaurs...

What now?

We've all seen the world markets do a graceful dive over the past few days, in response to the fallout from the horrendous foreign policy moves and sub-prime lending debacle of the US. What is the proper response to this? I am calling for opinion here, as I don't actually know squat about macroeconomics beyond your basic guns 'n butter scenarios.

The US congress and "executive" branch are united with the Fed in promoting a $100-145 billion stimulus package that would be achieved by extending tax cuts to select members of our citizenry. The conservatives would apply the cuts to the businesses and the rich, while the liberals propose giving tax rebates to the poor and middle class. On one hand, the liberals argue that the poor and middle class would be more inclined to actually spend the money quickly, giving retailers a shot in the arm, and helping utility companies to avoid having to perform collections on poor families. However, the conservatives are arguing that that sort of expenditure only helps out the oil companies (?!) and China (since all goods are now manufactured there), which only makes a damning case against our stupid and lopsided trade status with China.

Other opinions out there in the econosphere, such as those of European investors, suggest that this simple fix is NOT AT ALL sufficient to prevent a recession. Those investors are worried about inflation, which the current emergency strategy ignores as unimportant. I am now out of my depth vis a vis the whole economy thing, but I would like to understand it better.

Won't you help? What should the policy-makers be doing to work their way up the tail of this tiger and collar it? If it's tax cuts or rebates (which activate my Skeptical Meter due to the fact that we are currently engaged in a war on two fronts!) then who should get the money? Most importantly, how do we make sure that the NIH funding levels stay the same or increase during this time of woe?

So what's it like in Seattle?

General
After years of living in a small town like Ann Arbor, it's a little overwhelming to be back in a real city. Here in Seattle, you're never far from a ridge or other vista that lets you get a glimpse of the miles of neighborhoods and businesses all around. Fortunately, that view also includes a lot of trees and parks!

Food and Shopping
The other aspect of city living that takes some adjusting is the amount of choices. We were really lucky in Ann Arbor, in that there were enough palatable restaurants to provide a variety of dining choices (although when you're keeping to a budget, those choices drop off rapidly). I mean, the food wasn't world-beating, but you could get a great breakfast at Zola's, decent middle eastern at Jerusalem Garden, and, most of all, a reasonable price on pizza. I don't know what they pay for cheese and dough in this town, but they charge $17-22 for a basic one-topping large (14") pie here. And it's not really any better than the two large gourmet pizzas we'd get from Cottage Inn for $26 delivered, including tip.

But here, we have experienced the wonder of decent Thai food, DELIVERED AT A REASONABLE PRICE. Yes, please! And there's usually enough for leftovers. Seattle is loaded with restaurants, coffee shops, and bakeries, separated into distinct neighborhoods. Downtown is like most downtowns that have decent shopping and attractions--parking is expensive. Ballard is a large neighborhood that is also tricky for finding cheap parking, but, again, there's a lot of shopping and eating. Most of the other neighborhoods are very convenient. Simply park, and enjoy several blocks of stores and restaurants.

Driving in Seattle
We live north of the canal that connects Lake Washington to Lake Union and the Sound. Most of the streets up here are a grid, although there's just enough tricky geography to force some weird angles and confuse a newbie. Many of the intersections are unregulated: that is, no signs of any kind. You just sort of slow down a bit, look, say a little prayer and zoom on through. There's also no regulations in many places on how closely you can park to the corner, so visibility in these intersections can be quite atrocious. To slow traffic and reduce accidents, the city has installed many so-called roundabouts. These are not the traffic circles of Europe or the East coast. These are simply a circular island in the middle of the intersection that forces a driver to go around in a counter-clockwise direction, yielding to traffic in the intersection or to the right. I call them "Polish stop signs", but Jill thinks that makes me a smaller person, despite the well-known fact that I was raised Polish. If I can't even make Polish jokes, all I have left is bad beer, unhealthy food, passive-aggressiveness, and Polka music. I'm keeping the jokes!

A "roundabout" behind our house




Fun Stuff
In terms of recreation and culture, it appears that many people go skiing on a regular basis. There are many slopes within an hour's drive of here, and apparently it's decent downhill skiing. My only skiing experience has been skittering over the man-made snow and icy patches (and sometimes muddy or grassy patches) of the North Carolina resorts, so I'd be curious to see what powder is like.

More locally, Green Lake, two short blocks from our house, is completely surrounded by a park that includes a swimming pool, 3-mile lakeside path, community theatre, and various ballfields. We've seen lots of grebes, coots, boffleheads, shovelers, mallards and a hooded merganser paddling around the lake, which is closed to motorized vehicles. When the sun comes out, the path fills up quickly with cyclists, rollerbladers, strollers and joggers, and there's a great vibe in the park. We were on the trail this morning when it was just below freezing at mid-morning, and it was packed with people.

On a clear day, you can get a glimpse of the Cascades from the lakeside


A somewhat better view from a ways up the ridge...


...and over the other side of the ridge, you have the Olympic Mountains


Seattle is legendary for its music scene that shows great support for emerging talent. Unfortunately, I doubt that I'll be experiencing that anytime soon, since we're so busy with everything, and can't really afford to invest the time and money into live music (or even recorded music *sniff*) Especially when that's pretty much just my thing. We do hope to get out to the community theaters in the area, to maybe see the symphony, and to hit some galleries. As a center of intelligentsia, there's a lot of support for the arts here. Of course, that means that there's going to be a lot of C-R-A-P out there to wade through, but it also increases the chance of running across something truly transcendent. I think that the varied geography and that aspect of exposure to arts is the main reason that I'm excited to be able to raise Elaine here.

The community theatre on the lake, centered, is right where we get on the path from our house. Phinney Ridge rises in the background, separating us from Ballard and the Sound


Beer (it's fun stuff, but also serious business)
I live within two minutes walking distance of no less than 4 bars and a 24-hour breakfast place. Come visit!

Here is a picture of the local homebrew supply, as of this morning.


It rains in Seattle
So, the weather: It rains every day, just like everyone says. What they don't say is that it just barely rains from pre-dawn to sunrise, at which point it dries up. If there's a system overhead, then of course it will keep raining until that passes, but on any given day, you will get extremely light rain in the morning during the winter, enough to dampen the pavement. On many days, rain will sweep over the city in waves from the Olympic mountains to the west. So most days, there are 2-3 hour windows for going out for a walk in the sun. You just have to watch the sky for a change. And most of the rain is very soft, so that you can get by with a knit cap and a light jacket. There's only been a few days where the rain kept me inside, and I have yet to see a downpour. In the summer, the monthly rainfall drops to an average of 0.9", so this is only a temporary thing.

A dreary day on the lake doesn't mean a day off for the coots (and the hooded merganser)


On an unrelated note...
My DOD-level spy software detected a number of hits from Serbia-Montenegro yesterday. Could it be that Nestor and Ivana have visited these unremarkable halls of perfidy? Please, do speak up and say "Yes, Hello!" if you come back! I hope the move went well, and give Maria a hug for Jill and I.

The Way It Sounds to Me: Neutral Milk Hotel

I was going to entitle this, "Review: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel", but it seems silly to "review" an album 10 years after it was released. Basically, this is me prophylactically regurgitating some thoughts that I've had about an album with which I am currently obsessed in an effort to move on.

In the Aeroplane... is a concept album that was inspired by the story of Anne Frank, in addition to some thematically-related dreams by the founding Neutral Milk Hotel member, Jeff Mangum. Stylistically, it most closely resembles a folk-rock effort.

This is an ugly album. Mangum's voice is a grinding, nasal bray in many parts; acoustic guitars are strummed violently in fits of drama, accompanied by rolling waves of drums; fuzzed-out distortion is like a punch in the face in some tracks; blaring horns and bagpipes drunkenly weave through the instrumental interludes. However, the songs are superficially likable on first listen, and Mangum generally plays and sings in the manner of a mischievous troubador.

There is also an ugliness to Mangum's lyrics and delivery. While there is no obscene language, he consistently returns to what is usually considered base imagery: the physical manifestation of sex and the horrifying immutability of death. The word 'return', of course, implies that he spends a great deal of time on that which transcends the muck of our worst intentions.

If it were merely this, if the album was just an exercise in contrasting the sacred with the profane, this would still be a decent album. The songs, melodies, and instrumentation are instantly approachable, despite the edge. But the lyrics take center stage, and the words are inescapable and unforgettable. Fortunately (for me), they're also not always decipherable, which gives me the courage to forward my opinions here, however out of line they may be with the artist's intent. So just put "It seems to me..." at the start of each sentence that follows.

For an album inspired by Anne Frank, there is little direct reference to the actual story until well into the album. However, there are oblique references, providing that you expect them, in the early tracks. It's almost a dance around the topic, like the small talk that occurs at a funeral of a child. It's a relating of our own experiences as a mirror to the tragedy of another, and vice-versa. Mangum finally stabs at the problem in a duo of songs with very different approaches, but the same result. One is the matter-of-fact "Holland, 1945", the other is "Oh, Comely".

The climax of the album occurs in "Oh, Comely", an angry and confused piece that masterfully captures a moment of resignation amid a struggle of denial. Here is where the imagery becomes...uncomfortable and unavoidable. But instead of imagery of the death machine of the Nazis, Mangum uses body and relationship images in a stream-of-consciousness sing-song rant of despair. Finally, there is talk of the truth, the horrible death of the Franks and many others in the concentration camps. The song ends with a promise of neverending love and life to Goldeline, who is presumably Anne, either from Mangum or from an unseen paramour. Or it could be from Anne to her sister, with whom she was buried.

I have a strong desire to describe the denouement as well, but you can listen for yourself if you're curious. Obviously, I thought it was great, since it should be painfully evident that I love this album.

The thing that grabs me the most about this work is the sincerity -- if he had failed to be sincere in this, no one would have cared, and I probably never would have heard it. Mangum does not use the jarring imagery as a shock device. I'm a little too old to buy into that kind of crap anyway. There's a line in the second track that goes "I love you, Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ, I love you, yes I do!", and it is sung in a full-throated wail. The first time I heard the album, I thought that the manner of delivery implied sarcasm. It wouldn't be unheard of in the field of indie rock to have contempt for the bible thumpers, ya know? However, I read excerpts from a Mangum interview where he stated that he meant every word on the album. I don't know if this implies that he practices some form of Christianity (matters not to me either way), but that declaration makes for an interesting counterpoint to what is a VERY unapologetic artistic courage for the rest of the album.

So, to sum, what I take away from In the Aeroplane... is that we all have some extraordinarily tragic things happen to us within the confines of our mundane lives, but also aching moments of beauty. The same can be said for Anne Frank, who led an extraordinary life, but still faced everyday problems such as her battles with her mother, and navigating her first and only romantic relationship. I've read a bit more about her after hearing this album, and she really did seem to be a beautiful person, doing as well as she could amid the strain of tragedy and hope.

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
that is circling all 'round the sun

When we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing about everyone I see

Can't believe how strange it is to be anything
at all

Happy Belated Birthday to Jill!

Happy Belated Birthday, Jill!

I remembered her actual birthday in the real, actual world, but Jill wondered why I did not acknowledge the event in blogland. So a big blog apology to you, and I hope you had a great day!

Jill! Jill! Jill! Jill!

(coughs politely behind hand)

Blech. Looks like Elaine and I are going to be virus buddies for the next few days. She looks like I feel most of the time, with her poor tired eyes and slack expression.

So this is a "See you in a few days!" post. I'm going to try to come back with an expository review of a single album that I really dig called "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" by Neutral Milk Hotel. I suck at finding non-obvious meaning below the surface of narrative -- I'm the guy who hears a song for 10 years before going, "Oh! THAT'S what that song is about!" -- so it will be a bit of a challenge, and I'll probably miss a lot. But I think that the album itself is such an achievement that I want to highlight it for those who haven't heard it, and I'll risk sounding like a right fool to do it.

Help is on the way!

Do you find yourself wondering, "What should I have for lunch!?", or "What does it all mean?"? Me, too!

I want to share with you my personal recipe for lunch. You can use this, and you don't have to credit me. Ready? Good!

Take 2 slices of a tasty whole wheat bread -- I use Oroweat's Health Nut. Toast this bread to your satisfaction. While the bread is toasting, cut a perfectly ripe, large avocado in half, lengthwise. Wrap one half in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for tomorrow's lunch. Using a spoon, roughly scrape out the avocado onto a plate, in shallow slivers. Lightly sprinkle salt (sea salt if you have it) on the avocado, then grind some black pepper on top. You may, if you like, squeeze a little lemon juice on it, too. Fold the avocado back onto itself several times to distribute the salt and pepper. Spread this mixture onto the toasted bread.

I hope that you enjoy lunch today as much as I did. See you next time!

IKEA -vs- Crate & Barrel -- Cage Match!!!

Dear Diary,
I bashed my head against the wall this morning, by accident this time. Raised quite a lump, but it was no match for a bag of Trader Joe’s frozen corn. I can’t wait for the awesome bruise. Well, I guess that’s all for today.

We are furnishing the place, bit by bit. We decided to ditch our couch(es), dining room table and chairs, end tables, desks, and bookshelves when we moved, so we’ve been spending a lot of time at stores on this end.

Two weeks ago, we went to IKEA. I look back on this trip as akin to a hostage situation. There is no leaving that place. You enter through the pickup/garage area, which places you far from the outer walls. Then you “follow the arrows” that are on the floor so you don’t accidentally miss a section (the HORROR!). There are bathrooms, periodically.

We ended up with a bookshelf unit (cubes that hold file boxes or books) and a wardrobe/dresser “solution”. At IKEA, you put everything together yourself, and much of the wardrobe section was highly modular. So we bought tall wardrobe cabinets (3), doors (3), shelves (12), and clothes rails (3). Thusly, we would have approximately 5’ of closet space, and shelves for placing shirts, etc. The whole thing takes up a 2 x 5 footprint in the room.

Naturally, I’ve been the furniture assembler. The wardrobes actually went together nicely. I was impressed with the simplicity of the design, the sensible hardware, and the quality of the prepared materials. I was a little put off by all of the particle board (I hate being surprised by the old glue’n sawdust), but the price was definitely right, and we were more than pleased with the sturdiness of the final product.

Like many bookshelf units, the wardrobes came with a thin piece of wood to serve as the back. You assemble the unit on its face, then lay the back piece on and tack it in with 40 nails. When I first placed the back on, I was sure that it was slightly too big. But then I ran my finger along the edge with some pressure, and it slid right into place. It made almost a Ziplock "vacuum seal" noise as I pressed it in. They also provided a handy little device that holds your tack for you at the perfect distance from the edge. Speaking as someone who's assembled his share of Target furniture, this is pretty outstanding manufacturing.

Yesterday, we received an order from Crate and Barrel of 2 nightstands, a desk, and a bed. I spent several hours putting together the nightstands and desk, which largely used the same cam-screw and dowel peg assembly as the IKEA stuff. First of all, I was unpleasantly surprised to realize that the nightstands were largely made of particle board with veneer. All of the IKEA stuff was, too, but IKEA is orders of magnitude cheaper than Crate and Barrel. The desk was made of actual wood, but many of the pre-drilled holes were too small, and some were off the mark.

Driving screws into hardwood when the pilot hole is too small by hand is not a lot of fun. Further, often when I would start a screw in the particle board pieces, the veneer would tear away, leaving a crater. Granted, these screw holes are hidden from view, but I was reminded that this did not happen with the much cheaper IKEA stuff. So I guess that this is evidence that IKEA actually is a bargain, and is (almost) worth spending the time there to find something.

Oh, and it was this morning, while picking up the Styrofoam from the boxes, that I swung my body around and introduced my noggin to the wall (plaster like concrete), with not insignificant follow-through. Given that I’m caring for an infant, I should probably try not to knock myself out cold. Have to put a reminder in my diary.

UPDATE: Score a few more points for IKEA. The tabletop of that desk that we got from C&B (Espresso Loop desk) developed a pronounced sag, so we had it replaced. A few weeks later, the replacement desk also acquired a sag. Next step is to arrange for a refund or store credit. On the plus side, C&B was very gracious about the desk replacement, and hopefully this attitude will prevail when we go about requesting a refund.

Review: Pete's EggNest

We went out for breakfast for the first time in Seattle!!! I love going out for breakfast, especially to places that have greasy hashbrowns, lots of eggs, and nice sausages or perhaps biscuits and gravy. We went to a place way uphill from us called Pete's EggNest. Next time I go up the hill on a nice day (which today was NOT), I'll take a picture of the view and post it. Anyway, my Pete's experience left me with such an impression that I started an account at Yelp.com and wrote a review. Let's see how that went...

"Disclaimer: We didn't actually get to eat there. We're new in town, and were trying our first breakfast place. We walked 20 minutes in the cold to get to Pete's with our baby in her stroller. The hostess took our name and said that we would figure something out about the stroller (which folds up). 15 minutes later, she came outside and said that we would be next, and that we would figure out the stroller situation. 10 minutes after that, my wife went in to check and was told that they couldn't accomodate us. Since it had just started to rain, we headed back home.

They could have at least come outside and apologized or something. This was pretty shabby."

Now "cold" is, of course, relative to the normal temps around here. What I didn't say was that we were hungry hungry, before we even left. That, plus the walk uphill, plus the wait outside with the smells, all left me pretty hot when we left. We could have made for another place up on the ridge, but we didn't know how bad the rain would get.

We ended up going into the co-op on our corner for some nice paninis, so it all ended well, but I burn with the fury of a thousand suns at the *string of expletives deleted* at Pete's EggNest, the breakfast joint THAT THOUGHT IT WAS UNTOUCHABLE.

*poke*

The Great Northern Route: deel vijf

Day 4: The last, desperate surge
I was delighted to find that La Quinta had also gone the way of the DIY waffle station. Here, however, you were required to fill your own cup with batter, as opposed to having lots of premeasured cups at hand. I made a terrible miscalculation and ended up with only 3/4 of a waffle. Still, better than 0/4 waffle.

We were out of the parking lot at early dawn, and I carefully navigated us past icy patches in the gloaming. There was a bit of a…discussion prior to leaving concerning the apportioning of driver duties for the day, as foreshadowed ad nauseum in earlier posts. This left me grumpy and taciturn for most of the day.

Eastern Washington is largely ranch land, with some farms scattered here and there along the roadside. It is high desert, meaning that it is a desert environment at an elevated altitude. I was reminded of the lava fields of Hawai’i in some areas, as the rolling hills often appeared to be studded with rocks, such that a lot of work would need to be done before plowing was attempted. It was not the landscape that I expected, as I somehow thought that Washington was completely covered in temperate rainforest. That is only the column of land from the Seattle region on up North into BC.

The wind had picked up a lot by the time I turned the reins over to Jill. Even as the passenger, I could feel the car being affected by the gusts. The day was partly sunny, but we did go through some sprinkles and completely overcast areas. As we approached the Columbia River (which ends just west of Portland, OR) the landscape became more dramatically carved. These foothills are serious business. The river gorge itself was just spectacular. It’s a wide river, and the I-90 bridge offers a fantastic view, although I wondered if we were going to be blown off of the bridge.

After the Columbia River, the Cascades began. I kept checking the map to see how close we were to Snoqualmie. We didn’t speak much during this time, but we were both thinking of the same thing: what if something happens up there? Will we be stranded for a while? Is this place far removed from support services? What about Elaine, does she have enough x, y, and z to make it through a long stoppage?

Finally, we were about 10 miles from the pass. We drove under a huge system that was parked over the mountains, and our blue skies disappeared. A large electronic sign informed us that traction tires were required on the pass, and to expect slush and snow. We kept passing houses and trailer parks that were built near the freeway exits. A third lane opened up. We passed a building advertising towing services. And then…we were there, at the summit, and…and…and there was a ski lodge right at the top. It’s a freaking tourist destination!. Furthermore, there was no twisty curving or tricky driving. As Jill said, one could see that if there was a heavy snowfall, that it would need to be dealt with, but this was nothing compared with Idaho.

A few minutes after cresting the summit, we had come back out into the sunshine. We were about 40 minutes from Seattle.

We reached I-5 and headed north for home.

When we arrived, there was much jubilation. We also faced some unfortunate realities: the house was about 45 degrees inside, and we would be sleeping on the floor for at least two more nights. Still, we had arrived home – our OWN home – and we were ready to get started building our new lives.

However, before we could get started with that, a flock of enormous crows surged down from the trees and attacked us. They pecked and clawed and tore with their strong beaks, until we had succumbed to the inevitability of death. My last, red-stained sight in this world was seeing poor Elaine being almost lovingly carried off by a monstrous crow, about 8 feet from talons to tuft. I think they mean to raise here as a crow-girl. I'm sure she'll be very good at it, if she sets her mind to it.

Sorry that I didn't get any pictures of the crows.


High desert of Washington, approaching the Cascades


Finally!


Elaine's (and my) first ferry ride, as we head to Jill's cousins place at the Naval base in Bremerton, across the Sound

Tasting: Wee Heavy Winter Ale

Wee Heavy Winter Ale
Hale's Ales, Seattle WA

After a long walk today to the Post Office and back (with Elaine in the Baby Bjorn), I stopped in the food co-op and picked up a 6 of something local. "Wee Heavy", as the carton explains, is another expression for a Scottish strong beer. Although it is called a winter ale, I don't detect any evidence of spice or other adjuncts, other than hops.

The freshly opened bottle smells yeasty and malty, with a decent amount of boiling hops character. It feels heavy, as advertised, with a light carb burn. Carbonation in general is low to middling. This brew has a strong chocolate flavor, and reminds me of Young's Double Chocolate Stout, without the addition of actual chocolate, of course. It made sense to me.

The strong but clean bitterness is carried equally between the hops and dark roasted malt. There is almost no sourness, thanks in part to the low carbonation. There is also very little overt sweetness--what there is exists as a burnt molasses buried in the secondary.

In short, this gets a strong recommendation from me. I look forward to sampling the rest of Hale's Ales.

The Great Northern Route: das vierte Teil

Day 3: Punching through to Spokane
The Billings Days Inn had the same complementary breakfast as the one in Wall, with one crucial difference: waffles. There was a waffle batter dispenser flanked by a tiny fleet of 3 waffle irons. In mere minutes, a sleepy traveler can sit down to a piping hot, crispy, malty waffle without having to humor a misanthropic waitperson with the illusion of civility or class. Waffles, people!

We got the car packed and got out just as the sky was lightening. I was Driver One on this lovely Sunday morning, and I was ready for the worst. Gwen had warned of some “difficult driving” in Idaho, so I was worried that some of the Montana passes would pose difficulty, as well. Leaving Billings, the blacktop was smooth and flat, but disconcertingly dusted with frost in some areas. As the sun rose in the northeast behind us, we were treated to an increasingly interesting view.

If you ever visit Montana, you must drive on I-90 West. Obviously, I-90 East offers a similar view, but when you travel west, the view gets better and better as you go. Montana ranks with Hawai’i (Big Island), Oregon (between Crater Lake and the coast, along the Umquah river), and the stretch of Blue Ridge Parkway between Boone, NC and Asheville, NC, as the most beautiful landscapes that I have encountered in the United States. I have yet to see the American Southwest, so this is by no means a complete list.


Approaching a monolithic front that stretched left to right as far as the eye could see at our first Montana ridge

I drove from Billings to Missoula, nearly the entire Montana trip. I felt kind of bad for Jill, as she only had the side view, but I later realized that she had planned to let me drive until we were close to the “difficult driving”, at which point she would take over. Now I don’t feel so bad. Nearly the entire time, I was murmuring “Whoa!”, and, “Man!”, and, “Wow!” as the spectacle unfolded, shaking my head in wonder.

I’ve never seen valleys as wide as those in Montana. This means that, even though you are in the mountains, you still get the Big Sky effect of the plains states. In many areas, I-90 runs on a plateau in the middle of the valley, and I often felt really vulnerable to the occasional high winds that would sweep across the road. The speed limit was 75, so I drove 80 mph for most of the leg. I wish that we could have taken more time. We passed scenes of buffalo drinking at a crystal blue river that wound through grass-tufted mounds, majestic, steel-blue mountain vistas in every direction, raptors hunting overhead among the mammoth lumbering clouds against a deep blue sky, and the broad, unfenced expanse of the valley floor, and I was completely in love.


Whoa, man, and wow


Another cool feature of the I-90 view: we shared the route with many very long trains, some distant and some near


We pulled into Butte for lunch, and got somewhat reacquainted with the ugliness of civilization before making for Missoula. There was somewhat more ice on the road in the shady patches, but the roads were in otherwise fantastic shape. We checked back with Gwen before making for Idaho, and were told that the highway was colored red on the online traffic map, with a descriptor of “snow, slush and ice on the roadway”. We decided that late afternoon was a better option than first thing in the morning, since there would likely be more ice after a night of sub-zero temps, so we went for it.


Lunching in Butte, Boogerbutt gets in some driving lessons

Most of Idaho on I-90 felt like it was overpass, with guardrails almost constantly in evidence to the left and right. This was a driving nightmare, all curves and hills, slush, and ice. Many drivers felt that they were invincible, and hurtled past us, throwing up water and ice. These included semis, Hummers, and Ford Escorts, demonstrating that idiocy is universal. The scariest moment came when a driver, attempting to pass us, spun out of control at our rear bumper and nearly hit us. I didn’t see it happen, and he was out of sight when I turned to look. It didn’t look like he caused further trouble, since two vehicles appeared around the bend a moment later. This was the most treacherous driving of the trip, and Jill handled it admirably.

While we didn’t take any pictures, I can report that the I-90 view of Idaho is quite dazzling. The road cuts through some unbelievable passes, with mountain rising up like walls at the roadside, covered with menacing, dark green conifers and dusted with snow. I would like to see it in summer.

We rolled into Spokane Valley at around 6pm. After checking in at a really nice La Quinta Inn and Suites, I went for some Thai takeout. As we reflected that evening on the days passage, we felt like we had survived some serious trouble, but Snoqualmie was on our minds. The last two reports said that traction tires (i.e. NOT performance slicks) were required, suggesting that they would be checking. Of course, one small snowfall and they could be requiring chains.

Did conditions worsen?
Did Jill and I argue about who would be driving through the pass?
Did we DIE???
Tune in tomorrow!

The Great Northern Route - Part Tres

Day 2: Passage into Montana
The night’s sleep at the motel was wonderful, as it involved a very large and comfortable bed, as opposed to the floor or the cramped backseat of a car. Elaine got a bath, and we got the car packed up. We were moving slowly, however, as we were the very last car out of the parking lot that morning. By the time we did our lightning-strike stop at Wall Drug (which the entire town was built around), it was approaching 11am.

Jill: "We have to hurry, because the cats are in the car. Someone might call animal control on us!" Didn't she see the billboard yesterday? South Dakotans REJECT animal activists. Punch line, I never got that picture of me sipping my 5-cent coffee.


I should take a moment to mention our navigation support team. First, there is Garmin, the state-of-the-art-but-not-top-of-the-line GPS device that we purchased on the way out of town. Garmin helped us to find food, gas, and gave directions through moderate-sized towns like Rapid City. Second, Jill spent many minutes on the phone with her sister Gwen, who was tracking weather systems online for us. Thanks to Gwen, we had a sense of what the driver requirements were in various passes along the trip, and of whether or not to attack them or take a night off.

Jill took over the initial driving duties. The roads had patchy ice and slush, but the sky was clear and sunny. We passed many abandoned cars along the side of the road, pointed in various directions, in the first 10 miles past Wall, indicating that our instinct to pack it in the night before was fortunate. I snoozed most of the way to Rapid City, where we spent too much time at a Wal*Mart getting some provisions.

The countryside began to appear more rugged as we left South Dakota. Farms had to get more creative with the landscape, and ranching was more in evidence. We passed many oil wells along the road – tiny ones, like little drinky-birds, stood 20 feet tall or so. There were also more icy patches as the terrain became more hilly. Due to the oblique aspect of the winter sun, many parts of the roadway never get sunlight, even on the clearest of days, so any ice remains much longer.

Refreshed, I took over driving in Buffalo, WY, where I-90 and I-25 merge for a time. We were already farther north than in Ann Arbor, and on the edge of mountains, so the days end rather abruptly around 4:30. Our previous, optimistic estimate was to make for Missoula, on Montana’s western edge. At 3:30, headed north, we revised our plans to get to Butte, around the middle of the Montana leg. I encountered my first ice a few minutes outside of Buffalo. It was a steady climb through foothills toward the Montana border, and the icy patches became icy lanes. As the rises and falls became steeper, and the day grew darker, the bare road was reduced to a single strip in the passing lane.

Most cars stayed in the passing lane, keeping the two driver’s side tires in the bare strip. Traffic still flowed at about 55mph, and I was being passed by people in the all-icy lane. My hope was that when we crossed into Montana, the roads would be better. I hoped in vain.

The ice was knobby and gnarled, like a lava flow, and clearly wasn’t going anywhere soon. The Montana D.O.T. had scattered sand all over the roadway, which had gotten embedded in the ice, and probably enhanced traction. However, it also made the entire width of the road a uniform brown. It was often difficult to see any lane stripes, including the white line on the edge of the road.

Throughout this leg, Jill was quite unhappy with my decision to continue at the prevailing traffic speed, and she said that it would be “absolutely fine” with her if I slowed to 40-45 and employed my hazard lights. As a general rule of safety, she was right, but I felt little slipping, and I simply wanted to be out of this pass before full dark. This 40-mile stretch ranked highly among the more harrowing driving that I have ever attempted, given the precious cargo. This, not coincidentally, was the last mountain pass that Jill would permit me to captain on the trip.

As full dark arrived, the road abruptly flattened, and we were going 80 mph again on a clear, black freeway. We were in Billings within the hour, and we decided that that was enough for one day. Garmin found us another Day’s Inn (they tend to have a handful of pet-friendly rooms available), and we took our rest.

Happy New Year (except Chinese people)!!!

My plan had been to get a bit crooked on some bubbly last night and then ruthlessly blog about the second leg of our trip, but I overreached at the former goal.

I wish all of you the warmest of fondnesses and good fortune as you plow ahead in this, our great climb. Excelsior!