Mariachi madness

I just read an absolutely wonderful account of a mariachi band on a subway in New York City. I love it.
(Link from The Sheila Variations)

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Cinematic green card

From Howdy:

"I work with a Dutch guy who has a real green card, but I have occasionally taunted him about satisfying the requirements for a cinematic green card (i.e. the essential movie credentials that make one American). Robin and I already made him watch the Wizard of Oz. I'm soliciting suggestions for movies that should be watched to earn this cultural badge of honor."

Here were my suggestions, though I know I'm missing dozens upon dozens of movies here. Anything marked with an (x) is something I think just about everybody my age has seen, but probably sucks 25+ years after the fact.

Photo from Rebba's photostream.

• The Princess Bride
• Better Off Dead
• The Jerk
• E.T. (x)
• Raiders of the Lost Ark
• War Games
• The Godfather
• The Shawshank Redemption
• It's a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, Miracle on 34th St.
• To Kill a Mockingbird
• Casablanca
• Top Gun (x)
• Bringing Up Baby

What movies would you require in order to earn a cinematic green card? The definition of "essential" is fairly debatable. But generally speaking, it would be "a list of movies you would expect someone roughly your age to have seen and understand references to," according to Howdy.

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From Spasmodic Dysphonia to a cure for myopia in two clicks

Yesterday, Scott Adams posted on his blog a rather inspiring account of how he's been battling Spasmodic Dysphonia. The upshot of Spasmodic Dysphonia is that he lost his voice permanently, but only for regular speech. It's interesting, and I suggest you read his blog entry to find out more about it, rather than me regurgitating it here.

His post was in celebration of the fact that he regained regular speech, at least for a day (no telling how long it will last). In light of his good mood, he asked readers for their own happiest moments. This started me on a time-wasting journey through various websites that would last an hour or more. Because someone named Joe posted a note saying that their happiest moment was "the day I found out my glasses were optional." And he added a link to iblindness.org.

So I started reading about the Bates Method for getting rid of glasses. According to Bates, myopia, astigmatism, and other things that cause us to see poorly are merely because we're doing it wrong. I was very curious, and did quite a bit of reading. There are plenty of arguments against the Bates Method, most of which point out that the actual science it's based upon is just plain wrong. I'm extremely skeptical about the method, especially after hearing this account of Aldous Huxley, who said the method had saved him from near blindness. Apparently, Huxley was giving a speech at a Hollywood Banquet. Bennett Cerf gave the following report:

"Then suddently he faltered—and the truth became obvious. He wasn't reading his address—he had learned it by heart. To refresh his memory he brought it closer and closer to his eyes. When it was only an inch away he still couldn't read it, and had to fish for a magnifying glass in his pocket to make the typing visible to him. It was an agonizing moment."

On the other hand, there are plenty of testimonials from people who say this or other similar methods have worked for them, so there's a part of me that wonders what's behind the whole theory. I'm debating whether I want to chuck my glasses for science to see what effect, if any, the Bates Method will have. I think to do it properly, I'd need to give up my glasses without doing any special exercises and see if that had any effect first. Then, I'd need to start the method outlined by Bates and see if that had any different effects. (Of course, to really do it right, I'd have to also get frequent eye exams, but that's expensive, and my insurance won't cover it.)

What I think probably happens with people who claim the method has worked for them, is that they don't actually see better. I think their brains have merely adapted and are better able to make sense out of the blurry mess in front of them. I think better pattern recognition is a likely result, but not better eyesight.

So, while it's kind of an exciting experiment, I'm extremely dubious about ditching my glasses for any prolonged period of time, especially since I expect it will fail. If I do, however, I can assure you that regular reports will be made here. You know, for science.

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So gloriously unpopular

Today, I received no emails from Sandy or Merle or PC-Doctor. There were no emails from me which told me I had important information about my web site. Nobody tried to sell me diet pills, penis enlargers, mortages or stocks.

In fact, I received only two emails today, and I couldn't be happier.

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Hooker, or ninja? I can't tell.

Who the hell can do sneaky ninja stuff in those shoes?

I'm guessing this costume is on sale for a reason. What kind of ninja wears something like that? Clearly, I'm missing something. Clearly, the idea for Halloween is no longer to dress up so that you look like a recognizable character or wear a clever disguise. Now, apparently, the idea is to find a street corner and make a few extra bucks. (Unless, of course, you're a guy, and then you pretty much get to wear whatever you want.)

Apparently, the trend is pervasive, according to an article (subscription required) in the Fashion section of the New York Times.

"The trend is so pervasive it has been written about by college students in campus newspapers, and Carlos Mencia, the comedian, jokes that Halloween should now be called Dress-Like-a-Whore Day." (Emphasis mine.)

Fellas, I'm sure this is a trend that benefits you, and I've certainly worn short skirts on Halloween myself from time to time. But when we get to the point where women feel like they need killer abs to dress up like a ninja, it just seems less fun somehow.

Then again, it's only $28.99 for that costume. It'll pay for itself in no time.

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How to stop speeders

Unable to find any shoes downstairs, I tore off my socks to follow Ray and Jesse out to the van for some extra wire. Ray had just turned the tangled mess of wires hanging from our bathroom ceiling into a functional light fixture and was giving us a demonstration of some wiring techniques.

"I notice you have a lot of people speeding on your street," Ray offered. Having just moved from a rather busier street, I've been quite happy about how quiet our street is, but I supposed it could be true. I studied his tall, thin frame and friendly face framed by shaggy gray hair and decided to agree with him. I nodded, moving my bare foot off a rock I had stepped on.

"You know what I do?" he asked, his New York accent becoming more pronounced. "This is how a New Yorker stops people from speeding. Now, I live on a 25 mile an hour street, and people are always speeding down there. Every time I go out my front door, I put a tennis ball in my pocket, and if I see someone speeding, WHAM!" He mimed a baseball windup and pitch.

"Then people get all angry," he continued, waving his arms around in mock upsetedness, "and get out of their car. But there's no damage done from a fuzzy little tennis ball, and then I get to explain to them that it's a 25 mile an hour zone.

"In eight years," he smiles, "I've only gotten into one fist fight."

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Towel = thrown in

Okay, spammers, you've won this round. My email handle is no longer nerdygirl. It's been changed because the 30-60 (I stopped counting) spam messages a day piss me off. It's been changed because someone started sending out spam with my old email address as the "from" address and the 1000+ bounce-backs I received did not make me happy. It's been changed because, in short, people suck.

In a week, I'll be turning off the old email address. In the meantime, I've sent an email to the people I have in my work address book, which isn't everybody. If you need the new address, please let me know. If I think it's likely that you will not send me spam, and you won't sign me up for spam, I'll probably give it to you.

Grr.

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Scott Adams on success and failure

The creator of Dilbert posted a blog entry about Knowing When to Quit. Like most of his posts, the content is thought-provoking and funny at the same time. Not only that, but he offers some pretty good advice:

"If you plan to try 10 things, knowing 9 will fail, do things that won’t kill you in the process. I prefer challenges where the worst case scenario is that I’m embarrassed or tired, as opposed to bankrupt or dead."

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The internet: not just for porn anymore (part II)

To Kungfuramone's post, I would like to add: Cats That Look Like Hitler.

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Wanted: cheap laptop

There's a 90-year-old* woman in Kennewick, WA who would benefit from the use of a laptop for email and web surfing. Doris isn't going to need mega processing power; she won't be making spreadsheets or playing Quake. She just needs a simple, bare bones laptop that will get her access to email and photos of her great-grandchildren. She's lonely since her husband died last year.

One of the first things I ever noticed about Doris was her shoes. She's my sister's husband's grandmother and I met her at some family function or other. She was wearing these lovely slipper-style shoes with all sorts of shiny beads. They didn't match her outfit, but showed all the more pizzazz for it. I love a shoe with some pizzazz. Footwear aside, I liked Doris instantly for her warmth and her sense of humor.

At any rate, I don't have a spare laptop, so I thought I'd cast a note out into the world to see if any of you do. I know the majority of readers here are total geeks who tend to upgrade these things from time to time. So if you've got a laptop you're willing to sell on the cheap, please let me know. It doesn't have to be fancy, just functional for two or three tasks.

* I think that's right, though she doesn't seem that old.

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I heart books

It's been awhile since I've indulged in the calming effects of wandering around a book store. There's something about browsing books, running my fingertips across their spines, reading dustjackets, studying author's photos that just makes my heart happy. It's as if my internal reset button is pressed the moment I stroll through the doors of a book store, making the world seem right again.

Ransom and I stopped in at the Powell's on Hawthorne last night and it was wonderful. I'm pretty sure the remainders table cured my cold.

My mission, which I chose to accept, was to get some fun, easy reading. I've got plenty of unread books at home, but most of them are the kind that require thinking, an activity that's been causing my eyes to glaze over and my brain to shut down lately. I figure this is a good sign that I need a break.

I was good; I only bought four books and all were used or on sale. My limit for book stores is five, and I generally wind up with five by the time I leave, so only purchasing four books actually felt like an accomplishment. (The time I decided I was in no mood for limits, I took eleven books home with me -- but two were gifts.)

Here's what came home with me last night:

• Bloodsucking Fiends, by Christopher Moore
• Something Rotten, by Jasper Fforde
• Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell
• Life After God, by Douglas Coupland

What are you reading?

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