Hey, Preppie!

Things take a turn for the surreal when Mario/A.C. confronts the existential horror that is Showgirls, forcing him to face his inner demons. Aficionados will note the loving homage to Superman III, a.k.a. the one with Richard Pryor, in the latest installment of 28 Day Slater entitled "February 12: Crisis of Infinite Tartikoffs". Watch it here. Big props to Team Tiger Awesome.

Break-a-Heart

I hope everyone had a good Memorial Day weekend. I spent my Memorial Day out at what used to be called the Break-a-Heart Ranch along the Carson River near Dayton, Nevada. I was there to help out the owner/boyfriend of a co-worker. The ranch is a pretty little place wedged in between BLM land for about four miles along the river. I spent the day walking the berms of the irrigation system, driving the threshing machine, and swallowing way more bugs than I honestly care to think about. My weekends are getting to be busier than my work-weeks, which is one reason for the definite fall-off in the number of blog postings lately.

Interesting place, the old Break-a-Heart. It got it's name decades ago, when it was a sort of dude ranch at which wealthy people stayed for six-week stints. Not coincidentally, six weeks was the (for the time extremely short) in-state residency period required for legal divorce in Nevada, back when the state was known more for quickie-divorces than legalized gambling. The old stone well at the ranch house is said by local lore to be the final resting place of wedding rings discarded there by the newly "Reno-vated". The same story is, of course, also told about the portion of the Truckee River that runs by the District Courthouse, and I doubt there's anything to either version. Still, it's a nice bit of local lore. I wish I'd gotten a picture of the well, or really any part of the ranch, but the only picture I thought to take was this one, a shot of one of the ranch dogs named Sampson.

I only thought to take this shot because Melissa loves Labs so much. And speaking of Melissa, she had a rather tough Memorial Day when she found out that two of her former colleagues at CBS News in London were killed in Iraq. Melissa was not close with cameraman Paul Douglas and sound tech James Brolan, but she knew and worked with them during her time at CBS's London bureau. I hope for the best for the families both men leave behind, as well as the families of all those men and women who have paid such a high price in this conflict. Whether we approve or disapprove of the decisions made which brought us to the point that we are at, I think that we can all agree that our hearts are always with those who sacrifice so much.

Just Wait

I've lived a lot of places in my life, from the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta in Alaska to the colonial capital of Antigua in the Guatemalan highlands, and many places in between. And one thing has been a constant--everywhere I've lived, at least one person and usually many people have said to me "around here, if you don't like the weather, just wait ten mintues." Then they usually laugh at their own clever insight and stare at you in a way that says "know-whut-I-mean?"

You actually hear that expression a lot less in Reno than in other places, because the climate here is fairly predictable. But that doesn't mean it isn't frustrating at times. One of the tough parts about living at over 4000 feet on the east side of the Sierra is that winter is never far away. High temperatures in May are usually in the 70's, but ultimately there's nothing particularly remarkable about a day like yesterday, when a weather system blows in over the mountains and brings us clouds and wind and very cold temperatures. Yesterday I was driving through Dayton on the way back from the farm and it started snowing. Absolutely no one seemed surprised by this. Squaw Valley (which is still open for skiing through tomorrow) actually got five new inches of snow.

When this happens, there are always a few people who shake their heads and say something like "what's with this weather? It's crazy!" No, it's Northern Nevada. Today the sun is out and the skies are blue and by tomorrow the temperatures will be back up in the 70's, which is normal for this time of year. But it could snow again next month, or in July, or in August. That's just part of the deal here in God's Country.

Too Mondo-Longo

First of all, let me say that Jonathan Nossiter's Wine Industry Documentary Mondovino is not a particularly good film. I rented it the other day, and to be honest it doesn't present its central themes or ideas in a very coherent way, plus it's probably forty-five minutes longer than it needs to be, and from a technical point of view even the camerawork is often confused and amateurish; some scenes zoom and spin about like the worst home movie you've ever seen. And I have no idea what to make of Nossiter's bizarre obsession with dogs, which appear in nearly every segment of the film for no discernible reason. All that being said, none of this means that the film doesn't give you something to think about.

As the title of the film would indicate, it's the story about the forces currently shaping the global wine industry. If you appreciate wine and all the complex things that it represents to so many people, and especially if you felt this way before Sideways, then this movie is definitely worth a rental. If not, well, you might still want to see it if you care about issues surrounding globalization.

At the heart of Mondovino is the notion that wine, like so many other things, is becoming homogenized all over the world. Despite the efforts of a few dedicated holdouts, most wine is moving toward a palatable level of standard mediocrity by the invisible forces of the globalized marketplace. In the case of the wine industry, this is being accomplished by a sort of unholy trinity comprised of (a) powerful producers who seem to care a good deal more about marketing than making wine, primarily represented in the film by Napa's famous Mondavi family; (b) wine critics like Robert Parker, who's inordinate influence upon both the industry and the consuming public is truly astounding and just a little frightening; and (c) wine consultants like Michel Rolland, who work hand-in-glove with (a) and (b) in steering traditional winemakers toward conformity in producing the types of wines that the critics tell the public they should like. This is all done for the sake of profitability and at the expense of individuality and a sense of terrior, which is a concept vital in traditional French winemaking.

The result of this globalizing process is not unique to wine, but it is particularly well-illustrated by that industry. Where once the international world of wine was one of diverse, individualistic growers and winemakers who were deeply rooted in their local regions and communities, now a New Order marches forward, emphasizing conformity for the sake of maximizing sales. This paradigm shift is perfectly encapsulated by an early scene in the film when consultant Rolland visits a wine producer in France. He insists that she employ micro-oxygenation in order to make the wine more marketable. And what is micro-oxygenation, the filmmaker asks the serene-looking wine producer after Rolland tells her she must use this technique? It instantly becomes clear that she has no idea, and Rolland obviously has no desire to explain it to her or to anyone else. He simply laughs the issue off, inferring that following his advice results in better sales; if it didn't, she would fire him. (The answer, in case anyone cares, is that micro-oxygenation is a process by which tiny oxygen bubbles are introduced into young wine, mimicking the natural aging process and allowing winemakers to produce wine quickly and profitably which artificially tastes as though it had been "properly" aged--purists debate how the process affects the quality of wine).

The result of all this is that wine, which has cultural connotations stretching back for millennia, becomes just another commodity to be mass-marketed. Industry giants buy up centuries-old vineyards to produce standard-issue wines, wines that critics tell the public they should think are great. Public tastes becomes standardized, and consultants make a living telling the few mavericks who still cling to quaint notions like terrior that they must conform or be left in the dust.

The effects of this global loss of identity and the sacrificing of any sense of individuality at the altar of consumerism are important issues to discuss. It's unfortunate that a film such as this, which makes a noble effort at addressing them, ends up being so confusingly presented and so darn long. Toward the end of the movie, just when you're thinking "geez, he's made his point, this movie could have ended twenty minutes ago" and then suddenly you realize he's now moving on to South America, at that moment you're pretty much ready to surrender to the forces of globalization just to be done with it.

Builder Needed

For years now, every time I would drive south from Reno on highway 395 and pass through the Pleasant Valley area, I would look west toward the spot where some sort of gigantic road construction project was obviously going on, most notably the construction of a huge bridge over Galena Creek in the foothills of the Sierra, and I would wonder just what the hell was going on up there. Strangely enough, while almost everyone I know had seen and taken note of the enormous bridge being built, no one I ever asked about it seemed to have any idea what this huge project was or why a gigantic bridge was being built seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Today my questions are answered. First off, this bridge is apparently part of the I-580 Freeway project, underway since 2003. It's truly amazing that so few people know anything about this effort, which is designed to speed up the trip between Reno and Carson City by completely bypassing Pleasant Valley. This is a good and necessary idea, as it not only takes forever to drive through Pleasant Valley, but this residential stretch of 395 is infamous for killer traffic accidents.

Of course, since this is Reno the news today is all about delays and increased costs. Last week NDOT announced that it had terminated the contract with the bridge builder over safety concerns expressed by the builder (concerns for the safety of construction workers building the structure, not for the safety of whomever will someday use the bridge). Right now officials are scrambling to find a new builder. It's unknown how much this will drive up the costs of the $80 million project, or how long it will delay the scheduled 2009 completion date.

Oh well. At least I finally know what's going on out there.

In The Beginning

If your looking for some interesting reading, check out what David Plotz is doing over at Slate.com. In a continuing series called "Blogging the Bible", Plotz is actually reading the book of Genesis, and as much of the rest of the Bible as he can get through, and writing down his thoughts and impressions as he goes. So far he's gotten to the death of Abraham in Chapter 25. I like the notion of what Plotz is doing very much; whether we think of the Bible as the inspired Word of God, or simply as a fascinating combination of literature, mythology, poetry, history, administrative code and propaganda (Disclosure: my own interpretations tend strongly toward the latter position, but I do my best to respect those who favor the former), it's amazing how few of us actually go back and read the thing. Plotz is no theologian and has no agenda; in fact, he claims no particular expertise of any kind. He is simply a man who is unfamiliar with the details of the Bible who has decided to read it and share his impressions.

Perhaps one of the reasons I find this to be an interesting project is because I myself did something similar a few years ago. Just sort of out of nowhere one day I decided to go back and read the book of Genesis. This wasn't out of any spiritual or religious inspiration, but was actually just the result of realizing that I couldn't remember actually reading the book from beginning to end.

Like Plotz, I was raised with religious instruction--Plotz attended Hebrew school as a child and went to a "rigorous Christian high school", while I attended Catholic schools for every year of education but one (freshman year of high school) from first grade through my graduation from Law School--and I thought that I knew what was in the Book of Genesis. I knew that it started with "In the beginning" and told the story of Adam and Eve getting cast out of the Garden of Eden, covered the strife between Cain and Abel, then probably finished up with Noah's Flood. If I'd ever thought about it (which I didn't), I guess I would have assumed that the stories about Abraham, Issac, Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat and all the rest were found somewhere in those later books of the Old Testament who's names I can never remember.

When I actually sat down and read the Book of Genesis, I was surprised and confounded by many of the same things that are now apparently surprising and confounding Plotz as he covers the same territory. For one thing, there's a lot more to it than I remembered. The story moves across many generations, finishing up at the point where the Israelites are living favorably under Pharaoh in Egypt. The part that I and most other people are most familiar with, the Creation story, actually makes up a relatively short portion of the book.

Second, long stretches of it are extremely boring. Much of the book is taken up with excruciatingly detailed genealogies, lists of place names, descriptions of migrations, breezy recountings of battles and all sorts of other details that probably mattered a great deal at the time they were written, but whose relevance today is hard to fathom.

But much more than the size of the story covered by Genesis, what really surprised me was how sanitized were the Sunday School versions of these stories that I'd been taught as a child, and how much was simply left out because, I think, many of the details are rather disturbing and difficult to reconcile with modern sensibilities.

So many things were completely different from what I had been taught or thought I remembered. First of all, the story is confused and contradictory--for example, there are two separate and conflicting Creation stories in the very first two chapters! But more unsettling, the God who appears in Genesis seemed to me to be a lot more like an old-world god than the more benevolent, omniscient source of all compassion that we tend to think of today. In fact, in Genesis God comes across at times as mistake-prone, paranoid and even needlessly cruel. For example, God goes through the trouble of creating everyone and everything on earth only to destroy almost all of it with a flood, simply because mankind, whom He created just a few chapters ago, is apparently full of an unspecified "wickedness." You would think God would have had more foresight than that. But in any case He decides He must kill pretty much every person on earth, along with every other living except those few that are on the Ark. Then, after the flood waters have receded and Noah has made burnt offerings out of many of the animals he has just worked so hard to save, God decides that even though "the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth" (i.e. the flood hasn't actually changed or accomplished anything besides a great deal of death and destruction), He will never again destroy the world in such a manner. It's as if He's figuring it out as he goes along. But in Genesis, God is always doing things like that.

I found the behavior of many of the human characters featured in the book equally surprising. There are lots of examples, but let's stick with Noah: In Chapter 9, the first thing Noah does after the whole flood episode is to plant a vineyard, then get drunk and pass out naked in his tent. Then the text tells us that his youngest son Ham "saw the nakedness of his father" and went to tell his older brothers. The older brothers cover their father up with cloth by walking in backwards so as to avoid seeing him in that state. Noah wakes up from his stupor and is furious once he finds out "what his younger son had done unto him" (side note: I can't help but get the feeling there's a subtext here I'm not catching on to) so he curses Ham and his descendants by making them slaves to his elder sons and their descendants. This Noah seems nothing like the nice, bearded old man in a bathrobe that I remember from childhood stories.

If you're as unfamiliar with the actual Book of Genesis as I was, you might be tempted to think that this is an isolated episode, somehow taken out of context. But it's not. If anything, it is fairly typical. Many of the heroes and heroines of Genesis actually come across as selfish and conniving, prone to jealousy and cruelty and disturbing episodes of violence. Trickery and deception and even murder are fairly commonplace, as are many other things we generally frown upon like taking slaves and practicing incest. Reading this I was shocked, and not quite sure what to make of it. After all, this is the first book of a collection of the most influential writings in the history of Western Civilization, and yet most of what I thought I knew about it turned out to be wildly different from what was actually written there.

Now I know there are people who have spent years studying these stories and coming up with ways to justify or explain away the parts that I found shocking, inexplicable, or downright bizarre, and I'm sure these people would love to lecture me about how I just don't understand, that it's all about context and the time in which it was written, or that somehow the words don't actually mean what they seem to say. That's all fine; I'm not a theologian or a historian and, unlike a lot of people, I don't insist that my way of reading these stories is the only acceptable one. And without a doubt, portions of the book not only provide excellent instruction, but are also quite beautiful (for example, understanding that to a certain extent you are your brother's keeper is the beginning of morality). But I would urge people to actually read Genesis or some other part of the Bible, and try to decide for themselves what to make of it. If you assume that "authorities" have always given you the whole story or presented the only reasonable interpretation, then like me you might be extremely surprised what you find there. I was utterly blown away, and I haven't really looked at religion in the same way since. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who's had this experience.

Looking For Enlightenment

For some time now, I've been wondering to what use the large concrete plaza on the river between Virginia Street and Center Street (you know, where the Mapes Hotel used to be) is going to be put during the Summer, when it can't be used as an ice rink. Although it's nice to have a little more public space in a downtown area that is otherwise curiously bereft of public parks and open areas--the only other downtown park in Reno worth noting is Wingfield, and that one quite small--but the general public seems a little non-plused as to what exactly we are supposed to do with this large, empty expanse of concrete.

Well this morning at work I happened to glance out the window and see that one guy has found his own answer:

Yep, he's meditating. Honestly, it's the best use I've seen for this strange little park since the ice rink was taken down.

I know that plans have been bandied about for building permanent structures on the Center Street side of this lot to house restaurants and other businesses (I'm sure I heard somewhere that Tahoe's famous Gar Woods was going to open a new location there) and I've seen elaborate drawings depicting a planned cover for the little plaza, presumably to keep the ice rink from melting in the sun like it did all last winter. Does anyone know where these plans now stand?

It's Gonna Be A Long, Hot Summer

The buzz these days is that we on the east side of the mountains might be in for a pretty horrific fire season this year--and more importantly, we might be in a pinch as to equipment and money to pay to fight the fires when they inevitably come. Two very wet winters in a row have given us lots of flammable cheatgrass and brush here in the valleys and foothills of Northern Nevada, and in the last couple of weeks temperatures have shot up to heights usually not seen until mid-summer. Yesterday afternoon thunderheads rolled in off the Sierra into the Truckee Meadows the way they usually do in July, giving up little rain but absolutely crackling with lightning bolts (most fires in the mountain west are started by lightning). If summer weather patterns really are here already, this summer might end up rivaling 1999, which was the last truly gigantic fire season this region suffered.

Fire is just one of those things you learn to deal with if you live in the West. Last year, although other parts of the state didn't get off so easily, we were very lucky in the Reno area as dire predictions of a rough summer didn't pan out and we had no major fires to speak of. It's probably too much to ask that we get so lucky two years in a row. Cycles of burning and regeneration have been at work here long before Western Civilization arrived less than 200 years ago and began to try to impose it's own version of Order on this dry landscape. In the end, all we can do is try to protect our property and our livelihoods and our loved ones as best we can with the resources we have. But I for one would feel a little better if we had a few more Chinook helicopters available.

Happy Birthday To Me

I'm 33 years old today, the same age as Christ at the time of His crucifixion. Coincidence? Well, we'll see.

How great a fiancee is Melissa? Have a look the birthday present she got me.

It's a Raleigh Mojave 5.5, a hardtail mountain bike of the sort I've been wanting for ages. The Reno area has got gobs of bike lanes and mountain bike trails, but I also love the fact that I'm just in time for next Wednesday, which is Northern Nevada Bike To Work Day. Of course, since I live only about two blocks from my work it doesn't make much sense to take either a bike or a car, but it's the thought that counts.

Fire Update

Here's a picture of what Arlington Towers (which has a plural name even though I'm pretty sure there's only one actual Tower) looks like today, the day after one of the condos caught fire and burned. See if you can guess which one it was:


Although police and fire officials have given no explanation for what started the blaze, unofficial speculation is that the fire, which began out on the unit's balcony, was caused by a discarded cigarette casually tossed from one of the higher units. This is quite possible, as the weather has been unusually hot and dry for May, and no matter what the time of year I constantly find discarded cigarettes on the observation deck of the Fortress of Solitude. Since I don't smoke and no one else lives there (It's a Fortress of Solitude, don't you know) the only reasonable explanation is that some inconsiderate jerk or jerks who live above me would rather toss their garbage off their balconies than dispose of it properly.

Then again, that may be just what my arch-enemy Apocalyp-tor wants me to think.

Fire

Obviously, one of my many arch-enemies (Death Man? Apocalyp-tor? Doctor Reich? The Crazy Screaming Preacher From Virginia Street? I haven't yet determined which of my Rogue's Gallery is responsible) attempted to destroy my Super-Secret Fortress of Solitude yesterday. Without revealing the exact location of the Fortress, I can assure a nervous public that the villainous plot was unsuccessful; my Fortress remains unaffected.

All joking aside, no one was injured in a fire that burned a condo quite near my own yesterday. It's a bit odd to look out a window at work and see smoke rising from a spot very near your home. Luckily Arlington Towers, where the fire occurred, is literally built like a fortress. Solid concrete floors and walls confined the fire to a single unfortunate unit. I feel terrible for whichever of my neighbors' property was destroyed yesterday, but thanks to good construction and a quick response from the fire department damage was kept to a minimum.

The McCarran Ranch

I was lucky enough to spend the better part of this gorgeous day up at the McCarran Ranch, which is owned and managed by The Nature Conservancy, a world-wide conservations group dedicated to, in their words, saving the last great places on earth. This is a goal that is also near and dear to my heart. Today the Conservancy hosted an open house at the 305-acre riverside ranch, allowing the general public to view the progress being made there in restoring that section of the Truckee to it's former natural glory. I drove out this morning to help in whatever way I could. Mostly this involved a lot of standing around and occasionally answering a few questions, but I'm happy to help in whatever way I'm needed.

The Conservancy is working to revitalize the stretch of the Truckee River that runs through the century-plus old ranch which lies about 15 miles east of Reno. In 1962 the Army Corps of Engineers, laboring under the notion that they were helping avoid floods and serving the interests of agriculture, straightened and widened the river. The result were devastating to the riparian forest and the animals that lived there, and if 1997 or this past New Year's Eve are any indication, flooding has not been prevented.

Today the damage is slowly but surely being undone, at least on this one tiny portion of the river. Natural wetlands are being restored, trees are being replanted, invasive species (like the despised Tall Whitetop) are being combated, and life as it once existed along the Truckee is returning. Recreated riffles in the river (made from rock removed to construct Reno's train trench) are helping to restore native plants, insects and fish. Specially designed rearing ponds are bringing back Western Pond Turtles and Leopard Frogs, as well as providing habitat for waterfowl, small mammals and at least one large rattlesnake that managed to make life interesting for a me for a few seconds this morning. And a large shade pavilion is under construction, which will one day accommodate large groups of visitors to this restored bit of high desert paradise.

Right now the McCarran Ranch isn't open to the public. Access problems--most notably a rather dicey railroad crossing--and a lack of facilities make the ranch an ecological work in progress, not a park. But soon that will change. In years to come the McCarran Ranch will be a treasured resource to the people of Northern Nevada, and a beautiful reminder of the power and beauty of nature. I'm happy to play whatever small role I can in making it happen.

Your Tax Dollars At Work

The official opening of the Mills B. Lane Justice Center takes place today. It's a beautiful new building, and to commemorate the occasion local businesses and government agencies are putting on an event that includes local dignitaries, media, pomp and circumstance and, of course, free food. Unfortunately, someone (rumored to be at the D.A.'s office but I have no official confirmation on that) came up with the bright idea that gavel-shaped cookies should be available for the event. Apparently prisoners at the Washoe County Jail were ordered to bake hundreds of these gavel-shaped cookies. One of my co-workers just brought one back to the office. Here's what they came out looking like:

AWESOME! Sadly, what are now being called "the Dickie Cookies" have apparently been quickly pulled from public availability. We're wondering what to do with the one sample that we managed to capture before the, ahem, premature withdrawal. So far the best idea is to sell it on E-Bay, but if anyone has any better ideas I'd love to hear them.

Better Luck Against The Dodgers, Creep

When you're a Cub fan you learn to take solace where you can. Sure, the wheels have basically come off on the '06 season as the Cubbies are 1-8 in their last nine games, now finding themselves 7 1/2 games back of surprising division leader Cincinnati, and it's not even the middle of May yet. We're well on our way to completing year 98 in the Century of Futility (TM). But last night did bring us one bright spot: Even though the Cubs lost to the Giants again, Barr-oid Bonds did not hit a home run in the series and did not tie Babe Ruth's career home run total. Thankfully, in years to come when highlight reels show Bonds tying the historic mark, the clip will not include a hapless Cub pitcher jerking his head around to watch yet another artificially-enhanced moonshot sailing into McCovey Cove. A small victory, yes, but you learn to take them where you can get them.

River Festival!

It's here at last! I love the River Festival even though I myself probably could not paddle across a bathtub. It sounds like the weather will be perfect--clear skies and highs in the 80's--and the Truckee is extremely high right now thanks to a high snowpack and a quick warmup this Spring. If you're anywhere near the Reno area over the next four days, do yourself a favor and head down to Wingfield Park (click here for directions). Enjoy the sunshine, grab a beer at the new Sierra Tap Room, watch the competitions, even get involved in a clinic if you're feeling brave. Just be sure to give yourself plenty of time to park--the one thing that has not improved downtown in the last few years is the parking situation.

Overall the River Festival is second only to Artown on my list of favorite annual Reno events. Get out and enjoy it.

31%

A couple of polls out this week show Fearless Leader now hovering just below the freezing mark, with a scant 31% approving of his job performance. While I can't deny that his long, slow slide in public opinion is pleasing to me, I'm also somewhat surprised by it. I didn't think his popularity could sink so low--I thought there was a solid 35% or so that had become so psychologically identified with him that they could never abandon him no matter what--nor did I think that if it did sink so low, it would remain so for a sustained period of time. Yet here we are.

The reasons for the disapproval are pretty obvious--Iraq drags on and on and on, gas prices are sky high (in fairness there isn't much in the short term that Bush could do about this, but having a Texas oil man running the country while gas prices reach unheard-of heights and oil corps. rake in record profits just plain doesn't look good), and it's hard to think of more than a handful of Republicans who haven't been investigated or appeared in a mugshot recently. Add the complex issue of immigration into the mix--one of the few issues where the Conservative base actually seems pretty far to the right of Bush, who used to think the growing Hispanic vote could be turned solidly Republican--and you have approval ratings on par with those "enjoyed" by Jimmy Carter or Richard Nixon at the lowest points of their terms in office.

Here's my prediction for the months leading up to November's elections: In addition to harping on whatever Culture War crisis-of-the-moment is brought to the fore (funny how that always happens around election time), many of the people who crowed and cackled the loudest just a few short months ago about Bush's razor-thin electoral victories and supposed mandate will suddenly discover that Bush isn't "really" a conservative and never was; in fact, there's some evidence that this is already happening. Though some diehards will probably always stick by him, I think you'll begin to hear this meme picked up more and more from candidates, low-level talking heads and echo-chamber types as Bush's lame duck status becomes more tangible. A few of them will even start to talk openly about how he "betrayed" conservatives with huge deficits and disastrous attempts at empire-building. In the end, this is really the only thing that conservatives can do. After all, who wants to be tied to such an albatross?

What kills me about the shift in rhetoric I'm predicting is that if it is adopted, it won't really be incorrect. This President HAS failed to reduce the size of government or veto a single spending measure, he HAS giddily partaken in "nation building", he HAS sacrificed individual liberties in order to pander to the most fervent and xenophobic elements of his base, all things Conservatives would, in theory, be against. I'll be happy to see the Right come to this realization (which I've been pointing out for years, btw), but that doesn't mean anybody gets a free pass. He's their man and no matter how hard they try they can't be allowed to run from him. Conservatives were happy to hitch their wagons to this man as he rose to power and brought them what they perceived to be victories, and I for one am not prepared to let them get away with "ahh, I just realized that I never really liked him that much" now that he's sinking like a stone.

'Dateline' Going To The Well Again

Dateline NBC is probably going to give in soon and change it's name to "Perv Ambush", and will become a weekly parade of embarrassed internet creeps caught in the act of trying to arrange sex with 'tweens. Tonight they air the fifth installment of the much buzzed-about series "To Catch A Predator", in which men who think they are on their way to a sexual rendezvous with an underage girl or boy arranged on the internets are instead met with cameras, bright lights, flabbergasted reporter Chris Hansen and, in the last couple of installments, the local authorities.

Like just about everyone else, as I watch these shows I'm stunned not only at the sheer volume of men who seems to be cruising the nets who are willing to go to sometimes great lengths to exploit underage kids, but that apparently Dateline can do this as often as they want, wherever they want, and the results will be pretty much the same. There's no question that this is makes for sensational viewing, allowing us to have both the salaciousness of the whole thing and simultaneously feel superior as comeuppance comes to the bastards who are trolling for children. Not only is it arresting television, but I think it actually serves the public interest to tell the world what kind of dangers are lurking out there in the quasi-anonymous world of the internets, a pseudo-real realm where it can seem at times like absolutely anything goes.

But indulge me just a moment while I offer what may be an unpopular opinion. Isn't this whole thing sort of starting to feel like exploitation by Dateline? I mean, of course we all want children protected and we all despise sexual predators. Dateline did us a service by calling attention to the fact that there are a lot of these pervs out there, looking to victimize the naive and vulnerable. But at this point, isn't this whole thing becoming the electronic-media age equivalent of presenting us with mustache-twirling villains in black capes and top hats so that we can boo and hiss? I wish I could tell the show "Point well made fellows, but now it's starting to seem like you're just trying to exploit and repeat past success by continually going after the easiest target there is (I mean c'mon--who out there would ever be pro sexual predator?). Time to move on to other important matters, even thought they may not be slam-dunks like this is."

I'm cynical by nature, so I could be wrong on this. Maybe we need to be reminded on a regular basis how dangerous the world is. And no doubt someone will read this and think that I'm suggesting sympathy for the creeps that are getting caught, though nothing could be further from the truth. But frankly, this recycling of what is essentially the same show over and over, with it's repetitive, emotional and easy morality play is starting to remind me just a bit of the Two Minutes Hate. That makes me just a bit wary. Anyway, there's a fine line between exposing a genuine evil on the one hand and returing over and ever to an area of easy success on the other. Perhaps it's time to tackle more challenging and (dare I say?) controversial matters.

We're Number 2!

No, I'm not referring to the fact that my softball team won second place in the 2006 Corporate Challenge tournament last Saturday (although we did, a fact to which my sore throwing arm and aching legs still attest). I'm talking about the state of Nevada. Proportionally we're the number 2 state in which you are most likely to have your identity stolen.

Battle Born!

I'm Somebody Now!

This is very exciting. Check out this page from the "Buzz" section of the latest issue of Reno Magazine. Look toward the bottom left-hand corner of the page; that doofy looking guy holding a beer and sporting a gumby-ish hairdoo is none other than your humble author. Yes, that's right: Yukon Sully in the "Buzz" section of THE Reno Magazine! I feel just like Navin R. Johnson when the new phonebook arrived.

"Page 73--Johnson, Navin R.! I'm somebody now! Millions of people look at this book everyday! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity--your name in print--that makes people. I'm in print! Things are going to start happening to me now."

Now all I need is a crazed stalker who hates cans. By the way, if you haven't gotten any of the film references in this posting, you obviously aren't watching enough TBS at 1:30 in the morning.

Happy Cinco De Mayo From The American Idiot

I don't normally talk about work in this forum, but I'll make an exception for this.

A couple of months back I upgraded my cellphone to Motorola's popular Razr. For a couple of weeks I was fascinated with my new toy, doing thing I could never do before like taking pictures with it, making short videos and, of course, downloading ringtones.

Since buying the phone I've always been able to remember to turn it off prior to the start of court (in fact, the marshals usually make a request that everyone turn cellphones off just before the judge takes his seat). Today I somehow managed to forget, and wouldn't you know it, about a half hour into court Green Day's "American Idiot" comes blasting out of my pants pocket, loud enough to fill the room. Rather than haul the phone out and fumble with it for about ten seconds trying to turn it off, an action that would only allow everyone to hear that much more clearly what a moron I am, I reached into my pocket and clamped my hand over the phone's speaker in a virtual death grip. This succeeded in keeping the sound from escaping, but it also meant that I was forced to sit there quietly with a death grip on something in my front pants pocket for about a minute or so, long enough to be sure the answering service had picked up. Needless to say, this is not very dignified courtroom procedure. I think it might be time to change the ringtone.

Oh, and the worst part? It was a telemarketer.

Garbage In, Garbage Out

I'm starting to wonder what the point of my e-mail filter is. I have it set to what is alleged to be the most discriminating standard, but all it actually seems to filter out are e-mails that are either blatantly pornographic or items from people that I actually do know but who simply don't write to me that often. This is not to suggest that I don't get much junk mail--I do, by the truckload. In fact, here's what's accumulated in my in-box (i.e. stuff that was not filtered out) since I went to bed last night about ten hours ago:

A "Special Promotion" offering life insurance in 10 minutes
An offer for Mother's Day flowers
A skin therapy ad
A request to take a survey about (I'm not kidding) chewing gum
Something about taking a course to become a para-legal
An ad that promises a free dinner from Olive Garden or Red Lobster
Yet another "personal" invitation from Donald Trump to enroll in Trump University
Another Mother's Day promotion
Something listed as "National Gas Survey"

Keep in mind these are all items my filter must have felt were not junk mail. In the same period of time, here's everything that actually was filtered out into the junk folder:

Another life insurance ad
Something from "ROLeXReplicas"
A note from one "Thomas" containing the subject line "SmallChicks Take BigDicks"

The only other thing that ended up in the junk folder was an e-mail from my real estate agent (not you, Diane; I got your very helpful e-mail before bed last night) containing vital information that I would definitely want to see but would have completely missed if I didn't check the filter every day for exactly this sort of thing. But then, having to do that kind of negates the whole point of a filter, doesn't it?

Two Items

There are two items I want to discuss briefly.

First, Inc. Magazine has once again given Reno high honors, naming it the fifth best mid-sized market in which to do business in the US. While this is actually down from a year ago when we were number one on the same list, apparently the magazine did add 120 new markets to the mix. From the RGJ article about the ranking: "Reno-Sparks showed job growth in high-wage sectors like professional business services," said Joel Kotkin, author of the article in the May issue of Inc. Magazine. "I tell people that the difference in ranking No. 1 and No. 25 can be as small as 1,000 jobs. Overall, (Reno-Sparks) is a strong economy and a great place for business."

I always find these "hot towns" lists sort of suspect. Still, it's nice to be recognized.

As for the second item, please allow me to turn into a drooling fan-boy for just a moment: Was last night's episode of Lost not the most awesome thing you've ever seen? All I can say, in my best Comic Book Guy voice, is "BEST....EPISODE....EVER!" Or at least best final five minutes or so. Man, after being gone for what seems like ages Michael comes back looking a bit scruffy but not too bad off, and then suddenly he goes all Sopranos on us. First Ana-Lucia gets bumped off, seemingly out of nowhere, and then as if that weren't shocking enough Libby apparently meets an untimely end just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And why's Michael doing all this? Did he let fake Henry Gale escape? Why did he shoot himself? Is he being controlled by The Others somehow, or is this part of some desperate plan to get Walt back? Man, what a great and completely infuriating show. I can't believe millions more people would rather watch a glorified karaoke contest.

Of course, for a true obsessive the best part was catching the Hanso Foundation's fake commercial right before the end of the show. And if you're a fan of the show (God knows if you aren't you've stopped reading this post by now) you absolutely must see the fake Foundation's new website, apparently launched just the other day. And yes, I'm enough of a goober that I dialed the number given out on the commercial, but I'm not going to tell you what happens because I'm already sort of embarrassed at myself. I just have to say that one of the many great things about this show, and the reason why it was so obviously born to be a cult hit, is because it hints at a fictional universe that is amazingly complex and it rewards persistent delving into other media (particularly the internets) with tantalizing glimpses of further information, thus allowing for endless cycles of debate and conjecture. Does it all really mean anything in the end? Probably not. But it is a lot of fun, at least for drooling fan-boys like me.

Steal This Post

Another popular writer has fallen from grace amid strong evidence of plagiarism. This time it's Kaavya Viswanathan (try saying that five times fast), a 19-year-old Harvard student and author of a popular chick lit book called "How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, And Got A Life". I can't say that I'd ever heard of the author or the book before this little scandal broke, but then I don't actually know what the definition of "chick lit" is, either.

The thing I always wonder about plagiarists is not why they do it (duh, because it's easier than coming up with stuff on your own) but why they always insist on lame half-denials. When faced with passages from their own work that are obviously copied, sometimes even word-for-word, from a previous source, they always offer the same basic lame excuse: I didn't do it on purpose. Every time a Jayson Blair or a Doris Kearns Goodwin gets caught copying someone else they always come up with some tortured explanation as to how it isn't really their fault. Usually this amounts to something along the lines of "although plagiarism did take place, it was all pretty much an accident." Viswanathan's ridiculous excuse is typical; while she admits that portions of her book are practically identical to portions of two prior novels by Megan McCafferty, she insists that the copying was "unintentional and unconscious", and that "I wasn't aware of how much I may have internalized Ms. McCafferty's words." Yeah, internalized them the way a guy robbing a liquor store internalizes a wad of $20 bills. I guess that's still better than the late Stephen Ambrose, who partially blamed his plagiarism on his children.

Just once I'd like to hear a plagiarist come out and say "Look, I read something that someone else had written that was beautiful and insightful, and since I couldn't come up with anything that was as good on my own I thought I would steal it. I figured chances were that no one would catch on, and that if anyone did they would probably figure it wasn't worth making a bid deal about it." If an author were to say this, at least they'd just be a thief, not a thief and a liar.

But for whatever reason, writers can never seem to bring themselves to fully admit their culpability. I suspect that it's because writers, like all artists, don't produce shoes or furniture or pork bellies or anything else of material, quantifiable value. Writers trade in revelation, in expressing the innermost fears and yearnings of the human soul. To admit that their words are not their own would be tantamount to admitting that they are not fully capable on their own of performing the single function that gives their professional life meaning. In other words, it would be tantamount to admitting that they are professional frauds. No wonder it's so hard for them to come clean.

She's A Keeper

Is it boring and just a bit wussy to constantly talk about how great your fiancee is? Yes. But suck it up true believers, 'cause here I go again.

Not only is Melissa beautiful, she's pretty damn smart too. The corporation that owns the TV station whose nightly news she produces has awarded her an academic Fellowship, fully salaried no less. She'll spend the next year working towards a Master's Degree in Journalism with an emphasis on interactive environmental reporting. I don't really know what that means, but it sounds pretty awesome, and all of it will be on her employer's dime.

Just in case anyone cares, here's a shot taken this past weekend of us at the vineyard near Coloma where we're planning to get married in June '07.

Changing Seasons

As sure as the turning of Aspen leaves in the Fall or the return of songbirds in the Springtime, another sign of the changing seasons has hit northern Nevada: Downtown Marketplace has switched to summer hours. This is huge for me, as I now once again have good microwaveable chicken wings available within walking distance until as late as 8 p.m.

Meanwhile, Back At Bayside

Here's one for my fiancee and all the other Saved By The Bell fans out there: Check out Team Tiger Awesome's latest episode of "28 Day Slater," which premiered on New York's Channel 102 last week. And just in case you missed the original episode of this gripping series, you can see it here. Oh, and don't worry--I have it on good authority that more episodes of this series are in the works. Here's hoping that they find a way to make room for The New Class.