(This guest blog entry is brought to you by my wonderful wife, Elaine.)

People who are in frequent e-mail contact with me likely have seen my event reports before. When I travel to a very fun event, I like to regale my friends with tales of my adventures, which often include the non-SCA culinary delights as well as the usually dance-filled adventures at the actual event.

This time, I'm writing about Terpsichore at the Tower X - the tenth of Cynnabar's dance extravaganzas. And I didn't have to travel anywhere - the event came to me!

Pre-event.

With 20 house guests on the way (I wasn't kidding about the event traveling to me!), I took a couple days off so I could do a bit of Spring cleaning and make the place habitable. Finally unpacked/put away some of the stuff in the basement so that people could sleep there. Spring cleaning is not my idea of a fun way to spend my vacation, but I did get a lovely feeling of accomplishment having done some!

Thursday evening, I was throwing together a quick dinner of leftovers (no need for culinary details, alas!) when I got a call from Lowrie - Gwommy had picked her and Philip up at the airport, and they wondered if I'd mind them stopping by our place before going to dance practice. I was delighted at the prospect, and less than 5 minutes later, they appeared. Either they were almost at my doorstep already, or Gwommy has a transporter he's been hiding from us!

Philip and Lowrie are from Ansteorra (Texas), and it was really cool having them come all the way up here for our event. After saying hi and dropping their stuff off, they went out for dinner with Gwommy before dance practice. We had a very fun practice, with lots of visitors. In addition to Lowrie, Philip, and Gwommy, Lyev and Adele were there, plus a lot of our regular dance fanatics. We ended up doing a nice variety of Italian stuff (Bella Gioiosa, Amoroso, Fiamma d'Amore, Bizzaria d'Amore, etc.), easier English stuff (Rufty Tufty, Hearts Ease, Jenny Pluck Pears, Hearts Ease to the Black Nag music (thank you Lyev for that request!)), a couple of Sion's dances (QQQ & Two Fat Ladies), and one of Dafydd's dances (Burley Mariners). Marcus stayed awake the entire time, and had a great time knocking down towers of rainbow colored cups.

Friday was not so productive a day. I started to make my dessert rev thing (chocolate raisin oatmeal bars), and then realized that my brown sugar was a solid brick. (I've since heard of a method to salvage that kind of thing, but I had no idea then.) Philip pointed out that the prep time on the package said 20 minutes at the point where it was going on 4 hours! It was raining and our basement was leaking water - thankfully in the unfinished part, but with 20 guests expected, not a good thing. I was feeling a bit headachy and out of sorts most of the day, and Marcus got sick that afternoon.

The poor guy had thrown up twice already, when it came time for me to go downtown and pick up Lowrie (who was seeing the sights of Ann Arbor). Gwommy and Philip had fled the country (gone to Canada). Marcus and I had just got to a nasty traffic jam when he threw up for the third time that day. It was another 20 minutes before I got to the place where Lowrie was waiting for me. After we got home, I called the pediatrician and took Marcus to my parents' house for the weekend. Some of our guests had arrived by then, so when I got home, we went out to dinner at Ahmo's deli. Yum, Gyros. (I was so hungry by the time we went out to eat that I almost stole someone else's takeout order!)

Then we went home and played games - it was our happy Pre-rev. There was a Catan game, of course. I opted to learn the game that Dafydd brought - Evo. He'd brought it last year, but we never got around to playing. It was very silly - you're a dinosaur species that is competing for the most points so that your species will be the one to survive the comet hitting the Earth. You can also use points to purchase traits to help more of your species survive (and, thus, earn more points), such as legs to allow you to travel further (you start with only one), eggs, so you can have more babies, fur so more of you can survive in colder climates, and parasols so more of you can survive in warmer climates. Yes, dinosaurs with parasols! I did say it was silly. It was quite fun, and Lowrie won with the strategy of having lots of babies early on.

More people kept on arriving, and a fun time was had by all. Chuck and I received a lovely basket of goodies from our guests too! I became pumpkin like around midnight or 12:30 and headed off to get a little sleep before the event.

Event.

We arrived around 8:45am to find most of the rooms already set up. I wandered around putting signs on doors and boom boxes in classrooms. I delivered CD's to certain classrooms and even had time to go over some of the dances from my class. I didn't think about class handouts until I got up that morning, but oh, well - at least they were all in the Terp book.

I went to Urraca's Gresley class first and stayed for 2 of the 3 dances (didn't want to risk the third, since my class was next). Eglamour was quite fun and something I want to do at practice. It's similar to Belfiore, so another cute threesome dance - Yay!

I wandered into my classroom for the end of the pavannes and almans class, and the one student was getting her own personal dance tutorial. Pretty nice for her, but I think next year, assuming space permits, I'll only put 3 classes in the first timeslot and will have 5 classes in the later timeslots.

Then it was time for my class - 3 threesomes. It started out with 12 people, and after we went through all 3 dances, 6 more came in. So all in all a good group and a nice mix of experienced and newer dancers. And people seemed to enjoy the dances, particularly Belfiore with the wonderful Musica Subterranea arrangement! I made a comment in the class about liking threesomes, and Katherine quipped back that surely my love of threesomes and hers of partner swapping is likely one reason we get along so well.

In the hallway, I saw bored chiurgeons wandering around (it's always a good thing for chiurgeons to be bored - that means no injuries). Also found out about the first of some costume malfunctions (more on my own later). Ladies skirts just didn't want to stay attached to their bodices. I thought perhaps the chiurgeons should tackle that problem. Another hallway activity was Musica Subterranea's new CD flying off the shelves - gotta love new dance music!

I went to the lunch tavern for lunch. A nice variety was offered - pita and humus, salad (with options for cheese and meats to be added), sausage, fruit, cheese, etc. Of course, the variety of cheese for the salad options was a bit impaired after I went through the line. The feta cheese leapt from my hands and landed bowl down on the floor - it was very upsetting. Someone pointed out that very little got on my dress, and I whimpered - but the cheese! I was told that I wasn't to go near the other (last) container of feta cheese that was brought out! Once I got situated, it was nice sitting around chatting with Teleri, Sion, Magda, Darius, and several other folks.

After lunch, I would have liked to go to every class offered! I ended up choosing Philip's reconstruction class, which was wonderful. The handout is an awesome resource, and it made me want to pull out some original sources and do my own reconstructions. I also enjoyed the discussion Lydia started about making changes to various choreographies.

Then it was off to Etienne's class for Spagnoletta Regolatta and Maraviglia d'Amore. Neither was new to me, but they were too much fun to pass up. Kieran and Emmelyn showed up for that class too (not too surprising since it was right before theirs) to make sure that Etienne taught their wedding dance correctly!

I didn't go to any class in the last time slot. Instead wandered about making sure that my boomboxes would get offsite, helped load up Anne's van with stuff, and called home to check in on Marcus. He was still a sick little guy and had thrown up all over my mom. Poor little guy (and poor Mom)! I made sure Mom had Chuck's cell phone number so she could contact us if Marcus got too feverish.

Midair, Magda and I then wandered out to the Chinese Buffet place on Washtenaw for a quick dinner so we'd have time to help setup for the Caroso Ball. We hoped to be joined by others there, but that was not to be. But the food was quickly served and quite tasty.

We got to the night site about the same time as the band, who had not yet had a chance to go out to dinner. I agreed that it wouldn't hurt to delay starting the ball until 6:15 or so (start time was scheduled at 6pm), to give them a chance to scarf something down. Since the dancers also took more leisurely dinners, we didn't actually start until 6:30pm. (Next year, I really need to fit it into the pre-dinner time somewhere - one suggestion I liked is to have it during lunch with a sideboard type feast so people could eat and dance and watch dancing) Eli and Arianna were our marvelous presence, something they are naturals at. They make a wonderful lord and lady of the manor and really should have their own estate, or maybe kingdom, someday. . . And Midair once again filled the Maestro del Ballo's dancing shoes with wit and aplomb. There were numerous dance performances that were delightful to behold.

The Caroso Ball was where I had my costume malfunction. Midair and I were the last couple in a set of Gelosia. Lyev was first lord. As he caught my attention and stole me from Midair, my hat and veil came right off to reveal quite an unruly head of hair! Lyev, of course, went with the flow and exclaimed - No, that's for later, my lady! Eli was gallant, of course, and took the headgear off my hands. When Midair returned as my partner at the end, he asked what happened and where it was in a mockingly shocked voice. I told him his Grace had it, which didn't mollify him much, I must say. It was all very silly, and a good bit of improv to which I am not doing justice!

Then there was the dessert revel, and Cynnabar did it again! A marvelous collection of sweets and snacks, including the two showpieces, Magda's lute cake and the latest peep battle scene (described by Magda as a fabulous siege battle complete with trebuchet and boiling oil...er...caramel) courtesy of Greg and Michelle. Musica Subterranea also brought a huge cake with the cover art of their new CD on it. Yay, dance music! There was plenty for all to gorge themselves on, and we even had some leftovers at the end of the day!

The evening ball was also tons of fun. Emmelyn and I had a lovely Rostiboli Gioioso experience. I was able to dance most dances and dance with many friends. Unfortunately, the lag time was a bit longer than I'd hoped for, and we were unable to finish the ball before we had to leave the site. We also had to skip one of the planned ball dances because my source for the music had to go home and have mercy on their poor dog's bladder. As it turned out, another dancer did have a copy of that music, but I didn't realize this until I'd already called for the next dance on the list at 11:55pm, and I didn't think we had time to scurry around for another CD and do the dance before Midnight. Doh! I was quite the drill sergeant during that last set - trying to get people set up for dances as quickly as possible so we could get through the maximum number of dances. It was very sad that we had to end so soon!

Afterwards.

I invited people to come to our place for a post rev, and many (more than the 20 actually staying there) obliged us. But once I was no longer dancing, I started to fade pretty quickly. After much talking and drinking tea, I ended up crashing at around 3am.

I dropped Lowrie and Philip off at the airport the next morning (I hadn't slept all that much, so my driving was a bit erratic and they probably never want me to drive them anywhere again!) and picked up Marcus on the way home. He was feeling much better and was in a good mood for charming our guests as they packed up to go home.

What a glorious weekend! It's sad that it is all over, but I find consolation in the words at the end of one of Marcus' favorite books (Barnyard Dance by Sandra Boynton):"With an OINK and a MOO and a QUACK QUACK QUACK, the dance is done, but we'll be back!"

Yay, dancing!!

Even though my Level B class has ended, I’m still taking Improv classes. Richard Goteri, former artistic director at Second City Detroit has started up an intermediate class on Monday nights, and I’m enrolled.

I wasn’t sure if I had enough experience, and neither did he. So we agreed that I’d attend the first class and try it out. After the first hour he didn’t hesitate to have me stay on, which made me very happy.

The classes are great, as usual. I’m learning a ton. There are only seven students (all men, unfortunately), but they are either as good or better than me, so I always have to stretch myself.

The good news / bad news is that I can’t write up a summary about the classes. This is bad news because, well, I like having that record. The good news is that this is because he’s writing a book, and I can post my observations after the book is out.

I’m taking notes and writing it up anyway, just not publishing it online, so I’ll have it ready for when it is needed.

Rumor has it that Second City will be starting classes in April. We’ll see. I hope so, but quite honestly, I wouldn’t mind if they delayed another month so I could finish out this class.

I saw a doctor at U of M hospital yesterday. I was right, dangit. Once again, I have two hernias.

Sigh.

This time, though, instead of normal surgery, it will be done laparoscopically. Through my belly button (and one of the hernias) and fixing the groin one from the inside. Hopefully that will make it last a lot longer.

I hope.

I’ll see the new doctor in May, and wait for the surgery until late August, after Pennsic and most of my trips. I’ll be out of commission for a week, and can’t do anything major for a month.

For now, I shouldn’t lift weights, but I can do aerobics and fight.

I hope this really fixes it.

In other news, my son also had a checkup. He is 50th percentile in height, 50th percentile in weight, and 90% percentile in head size.

Just like his daddy.

My son Marcus’s daycare is a part of a Jewish Community Center. It is a great place, and the fact that it is Jewish means that there are some interesting aspects about the care that wouldn’t occur if at a secular childcare place.

For example, the whole building is kosher, so you can’t pack any meat products with your child’s lunch, because all the fridges hold milk. There is the opportunity to learn Hebrew. The women who frequent the place have a tendency to wear lots of makeup and gold jewelry.

The main hallway from the entrance area to the center of the building is usually lined with some sort of artwork or posters. They frequently change, which is wonderful because, as my son grows older, it will give us yet another topic of conversation, and a chance for him to learn. I may not always like the art, but seeing new pieces is usually nice.

Right now, however, I’m not sure how I feel.

The artwork is all about the Holocaust. You know, the Holocaust, where some really insane people in Germany thought it would be fun to try to kill every Jew they could find, along with everyone else they didn’t like? Where six million Jews and seven million others were wiped out?

That Holocaust, which some almost as insane people go around denying that it ever happened?

Morons.

Sorry. When I think about both of those things I tend to get a bit nuts. One more factoid and I’ll get back to my original thoughts. Six millions Jews. I only recently found out that in 1940, there were a total of eighteen million Jews in the world. Total. That’s it. So those bastards actually got rid of one-third of the people in a specific religion.

Okay, obviously this produces strong feelings in me. Seeing those pictures brings that all back, again and again and again. So now, everyday when I pick Marcus up, I see the pictures, and remember.

I suppose that is why they are there – so people will always remember. I learned that in Hebrew school: “Never forget.” Why do I remember that? Because when I was young, far too young, they showed us students a film about the Holocaust. A very graphic film that had black and white footage from Concentration Camps. A film that made me ill for weeks afterwards, whose images are still burned into my mind, and helped, in part, convince me that Hebrew School was not a place I wanted be.

I went off on a tangent again.

I’m not sure if the artwork is good or not. It is hard to look at. Like most Holocaust art I’ve seen, there is very little color. All done in drab grays. The people in these pictures have faces in horror, look like they are either watching or are under torture. Incredibly depressing. Conveying despair and hopelessness. That sometimes people are helpless. That sometimes we are alone.

That sometimes there is no God.

I do not want to look at the art. I’m not saying that the artwork shouldn’t be displayed. It does serve a purpose and such expressions are needed. People shouldn’t forget, and such information needs to be out there and available.

However, it is put in the main hallway that I have to walk through if I want to pick up my son. It means that I can’t decide not to see the paintings. I have to walk past it. Everyday. Even while looking straight ahead, the shades of those drawing haunt the corners of my eyes.

I have no choice but to look at it, just like I had no choice in Hebrew School all those years ago.

Then again, I suppose the people who were murdered in the camps had even less choices than I do.

Sunday afternoon I got to participate in a unique experience for me: I went to a political fundraising dinner for one of Michigan’s U.S. Senators, Debbie Stabenow. Outside of work, I personally don’t know anyone who has attended these affairs, so I wasn’t very sure what to expect.

When I called to RSVP and make my “donation” to be allowed to attend the dinner, I asked what the dress code was. I was told it was a casual activity. I’m very glad that I took casual to mean: no tuxedos, no three piece business suits, but you’d better look pretty nice.

I wore my casual black suit, dress shoes, and a tie. I also wore my new dress coat and left my brown rumpled hat a home. I think I cut a nice striking handsome figure getting out of my falling apart cheap Ford Contour.

And yes, a donation was required to attend this affair. The hosts, who were listed on the special invitation card, paid $500 per person. For the rest of us it was $100. I know. One hundred dollars for a two hour grip and grin. I could have replaced most of my Settlers of Catan games for that.

So, I arrive at the function. It was at a private home. I use home in the literal sense as a place where people live. You could fit 50 of my house’s corner lots on the land they had available, and my house could fit in their house about five times over. I swear I counted six chimneys. The driveway up (1/3 mile long) was enclosed on either side by trees. In the summer it would have been a tunnel, with the branches above your car making a beautiful canopy.

The place was packed. They had free valet parking, so I didn’t even have to worry about that. Everyone wore a nametag. I saw at least three Michigan state representatives, five former state representatives, and the spouses of other congress people and senators who couldn’t make it.

It wasn’t a dinner. All of us milled around eating the catered appetizers (snow peas stuffed with bleu cheese, smoked salmon on a cucumber slice and a special dip on top, those sort of things) and really good wine.

The strangest part of the evening was realizing that people were openly talking about politics, one of the two subjects I usually shy away from discussing, and here they were bringing all of it up out in the open. “What do you think of the dumping of Canadian trash in Michigan?” “Why are conservative Republicans spending so much?” “We need help in these districts – this fall those are going to be very tough fights.”

I saw many people wearing campaign buttons. Not for Stabenow (she in office until 2006), but for other people, some of who were there. One button I noticed that gave me a chuckle said, “Stop Mad Cowboy Disease.” An obvious slam against President Bush.

I met Senator Stabenow and shook her hand. I didn’t have much time to talk to her before someone else cut in, but I was able to let her know that this was the first time I’d ever been to any of these kind of functions, and she took the extra time to make the appropriate appreciative sounds. This was the only time I’d ever be able to play that card, and I was satisfied.

At about forty-five minutes in, one of the hosts gave a little speech about what the Senator has done, thanked by name the other in-office politicians (or spouses) who were also there, and then let her speak.

I have to say, I was impressed. She talked for about a half hour, and wasn’t talking platitudes. She brought up statistics (which I couldn’t verify), but more importantly she brought up her views on issues and how she has and would vote on them, and why. It was, of course, a very friendly audience, but I was still glad she took stands on issues and gave some reasons.

For example: the Canadian Trash issue. While she doesn’t want Michigan to be a Canadian dumping ground, there is another major reason she opposes it. Each day over 180 trucks come into Michigan through Port Huron, and none of them are checked. At all. So from a homeland security standpoint, it is a huge risk. Heck, nuclear waste could be coming through and we’d never know. So she is working on plugging that hole.

The question I have, that I never had time to ask, was knowing how much tax/business that trash dumping brings into Michigan. We are already a billion dollars in debt. Loosing that revenue couldn’t be good.

Then again, neither would having another mountain of garbage.

She had a Q&A session afterwards, and although I didn’t bring up the garbage again (the conversation had moved on), I did make a comment on Social Security. She was talking about how the Democrats and Republicans are fighting over that and tax cuts and homeland defense, and brought up Social Security and how steps have to be taken now to safe it.

I mentioned that among my friends, I don’t know anyone who really believes that Social Security will be around for us when we retire. It is kind of a joke among us. She mentioned that yes, I should be saving just in case, but that it isn’t just for retirement. Social Security also helps your family if you die, and helps you if due to injury or illness you can’t work anymore. It is like a last resort insurance policy, and for that it is worth keeping around.

After her talk and the Q&A, people hung around for about a half an hour. By the end of the two hours people were quickly leaving. I was told that some of the people here would also be at Republican fundraising activities, hedging their bets so they will have influence no matter who wins. In the business world, I can unfortunately easily see doing that.

By the way, if you ever want to feel young, go to one of these fundraisers. I figured the average age of the people there was 62. The only ones younger than me were the daughters of the hosts, and they were in the teens. They didn’t seem to mind being there, even if they just stood around and helped to each the food. I have to wonder if they had to pay paid $500 each for the honor.

Those of you who have known me for a while know that I dream a lot. I don’t mean that I might remember or dream or two a night every so often. I mean that I remember 4-6 dreams each night, with clarity, and never know I’m dreaming until I wake up.

Lately, for over a week now, the last dream I have before waking up is about the destruction of the world. Here are the ways I’ve seen the world end:

· I’m playing on the computer and when done, I’ve turned it off. World explodes.
· I’m driving down the road at a frantic pace, escaping something. I make it to the Rt 23 underpass at Packard, and cracks appear in the earth, which explodes.
· I’m on a boat, hunting for something underwater. Shoots of water come up from the ocean, going miles high all around me. World explodes.
· We are attacking the robots, making sure that they are finally put down and we can all go back to shopping at Walmart. In the middle of the fight, the world implodes, then explodes.
· I’m playing Settlers of Catan with friends. My cat, Pythagoras, wanting some kitty-love, steps on the board moving all the pieces around. Cracks appear in the world, which promptly explodes.
· I’m flying my jet fighter and shooting at a target. The missile lives up to the first four letters of its name and misses, striking the Earth, and succeeds in taking it out. World explodes.
· I wake up in bed, open the shades and look out the window. World is on fire and exploding.

What the heck is going on in my head??

I try to ignore these things, but last night was the worst. It is already fading, but I’ll try my best to reconstruct the dream.

· I’m doing something, I think it is working in the back yard (which I never do), and the world explodes. However, I leap out of my body (pulling a Sam Beckett from the television show Quantum Leap), and end up in the past, where I’m fighting a fire. As we put the first out, the world explodes, and I go further into the past, like the 1920. We are working on our space program (using gas filled air ships) and doing a test flight. Something goes wrong causing the world to explode. Now it is the 1740s, and I’m working on an electric gun to fight off the alien invaders, who blow up the world. I end up in outer space, no idea what year it is, and watch the sun explode as jump to warp. I literally watch the galaxy explode, and wake up with my cat meowing my ear.

I’ve heard that if you actually act out your dreams it might cause them to end, or at least change. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can be that drastic.

This has got to stop.

He should have been black….Fucken A!…Chuck has a really great laugh…when he wears that hat he looks like a rebel…

…even though Chuck is extremely intelligent, he doesn’t alienate you or put you down…

…he is a family man … very dedicated to his family and friends … love that story about how he didn’t think he was good enough for the woman who became his wife…

…his website is great … love the improv summaries, I show them to others so they can see what we do…

…in this class, he is the one who wants to do this the most, and he tries the most … he gives to everyone…

…he knows and is aware of what others are doing in a scene, and helps them out on the stage…keys it up and heightens…

…has a Ph.D., and has also street performer…very atypical with many levels … not a stereotypical anything … broad reach…

…reminds me of myself, a long lost cousin…

…. I like his hair…he is a trained extrovert, and can see how he is shy…

… easy to watch on stage, I feel very comfortable when performing with him, and he will keep eye contact with you. You know what he does and he works with you, not above you…

…strong leadership…everything is huge on stage, larger than life…strong passions…

…knows people working with monkey robots!

Last night was the last class for section B of my Second City Improv class (see the link to the left). The last routine we did was have everyone sit in a circle, and one person would be off to the side, with their back to the circle, and take notes while everyone else just had a conversation about them for five minutes.

The above is what they said about me. I hesitate putting it here in this journal, but like those “one hundred things about me” lists, I think it does show who I am, or at least, what other people think about me and what I project.

I also don’t want to forget.

And, it gives me a chance to comment!

Okay, the ‘he should have been black’ thing was just a joke, unfortunately, although it was very funny. Everything else was serious. The bit about a long lost cousin, I actually felt feeling like that too for that guy, and I almost lost it when he said that.

I’m amazed they think of me as a family man. I mean, yes, I am one, but that is a totally new ‘role’ for me. It is my favorite as well, but I didn’t realize how much it shows.

The “Fucken A” bit was when I was cursing on stage in a scene during the first class session. Apparently, kids today don’t use that kind of swear word. Nor do they say: “Yeah, she is such a hot babe!” or “awesome!” I’m so old.

I’m very glad that people don’t think I shove my brains in their face. Yes, obviously I’m smart, but it only one type of intellect I have, and there are many many others. One thing about this class is that everyone has something special about them, and it actually manifests as a form of intellect: emotional, social, insightful, intuitive, and raw brain power. I guarantee I can do higher level math better than them, but that’s about it. We all have learned so much from each other.

My performance skills were appreciated. I try to work with people, and not jump on their toes or lines, so I’m grateful that came through too.

It was an incredible exercise, to talk about the positive points about people and hear them about you. I think it is something I’d like to do with friends, maybe at an informal dinner party or something. As I was, I think you’d find many of what people say about you a surprise.

And yes, I do know people who have inserted probes into monkey’s brains to control robots.

Right before lunch we got a preview of tonight’s banquet entertainment: Don McMillan. Apparently, he was an engineer for ten years and made lots of VLSI chip designs. Now he’s a standup comedian, the “only one he knows that uses PowerPoint.”

He was funny, and I went backstage to talk to him. He has also taken classes at Second City! He did standup, but didn’t do his technology based humor until very recently.

His full show this evening was fantastic! He had many many geeky jokes, most of which I couldn’t repeat here because, well, they are only funny to engineers or scientists. Besides, the jokes are much funnier when heard, and when seen along with his PowerPoint presentation.

He did get into how men, especially engineering men, think differently from women, and that is always fun. He also talked about seeing the other side of statistics.

For example: 44% of all marriages end in divorce. This is a bit sad.

However, if you look at it another way, that means that 56% of all marriages end in death.

Divorce doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?

He did a 45 minute show, and I think I laughed almost continuously. I also like how he inserted DARPA and its programs into his humor.

If he is ever in your neighborhood, I highly recommend you see his show.

Oh, some random comments from this conferene (and not part of the above show) that I found interesting.

"We can't solve problems by using the same type of thinking tat was used to create them." - A. Einstein

"We are all entitled to our own opinions. We are not entitled to our own facts." - M. Twain

The trip is going better. I’ve gotten into the contact-making groove, and I’m meeting lots of cool and interesting people. I’ll have a ton of work to do when I get back to continue these contacts, but some of them should pan out.

The trick is to not let any of it slip.

However, the best part of these conferences is the swag! You know, the little things they hand out to take home as gifts. The last few conventions I’ve been to didn’t have good swag, but I think I’ve made up for it here.

Here’s what I’ve gotten so far:
· A Northrop Grumman car coffee mug, which a great cover that prevents spills
· Neat light-up DARPA pen
· Glowing balls (should be fun for Marcus!)
· A DARPA CD holder, which I could use for my car
· A presentation laser pointer stick
· Laser stick key chain.
· A couple of DARPA CDs (a main overview and one about their Space Legacy)
· DARPA breath mints
· A DARPA key chain and CD cover opener (I hope I can take that on the plane with me)
· A carabineer with attached flashlight
· And, of course, a DARPA tote bag.

Of course, the contacts are worth far more than the items. Still, it is nice to have some trinkets to take home!

I’m in California right now. While it is a bit nippy in Michigan, I hear that it is around 80 degrees outside the hotel, sunny, and really nice.

Not that I’d know it.

Specifically, I’m in a huge conference room with around 1,000 other people who are equally interested in getting a contract with the government.

I’m doing okay. I’m meeting people (the old ‘grip and grin’) and learning quite a bit. However, I’m not meeting many of the officials I’d really like to meet. You know, the ones who would come up to me and say, “Hey, you have a working and innovative gesture recognition system? Excellent! Here are some merry bushels of cash. We need your technology integrated into all of our programs.”

When I’m not talking to people about various technologies, I am listening to each of the DARPA program managers talk about their areas, and what they are looking for. Some of them are incredibly cool.

I think my favorite is this: Zeppelins are making a comeback.

Seriously.

Consider it an AWACS, but able to hover in midair (sorry…) for over a year at an altitude of 70,000 feet. It has a huge antenna (50 yards long) that can transmit wideband data to everyone in its field of view, which at 70k feet is a lot of view.

At that height, with it being off to the side, it would be very easy to defend and extremely hard to shoot down. The tactical implications are enormous.

I hope they figure out how to build one. Building an antenna that large needs a method to continuously calibrate it since it will bend and flex. At 70,000 feet there are extremely high winds which make station keeping expensive in fuel. Speaking of fuel, energy storage is critical, and the smallest lightest batteries only provide 1/10 the need based on weight.

Still, I find it fascinating that dirigibles could be making a comeback. I love it when old concepts are reused with new technology.

Elaine and I had a fantastic weekend. A friend of mine, Scott, from my Second City Improv class was in his first show, so we decided it would be fun to go see.

Since it was along the way, we dropped Marcus off at his Grandparents. We also figured that since he was there, he might as well stay overnight. That way Elaine and I could sleep late and we could get a bunch of stuff done (armoring, shopping, dishes…).

The show was fantastic. I had never seen “Beau Jest” before. Even though, like Seinfeld, it reminds me a bit too much of home life, it was very funny and a great story. The actors were extremely good, including Scott. The civic theater itself is a nice small place (SRO Productions out by Telegraph and 10 Mile), with intimate seating and a good atmosphere.

During the intermission, they provided everyone a goodie bag filled with bottled water, a bag of cheddar popcorn, and a large candy bar!

I’m glad we dropped Marcus off for the night because that allowed us to go out to a restaurant/bar afterwards with the cast and crew. They were all a hoot, and it was fun hanging out and talking with them. We also had another friend from Improv there with us, and he was able to join in also.

I realized something interesting that night. If I put in just a bit of effort, I could have a whole new circle of friends to hang out with. It surprised me a bit. I mean, I have my SCA fiends, my gaming friends, my ‘Buffy night’ friends (and of course, there are overlaps here), my online friends, my high school and college friends, etc.

But with Improv, I’ve meet a whole new set of people with a very diverse set of backgrounds, yet we have the Improv in common, and we could all start hanging out together and, well, becoming friends.

I talked to Elaine about this. It is rare that I get the opportunity to find a new circle of friends. I don’t even know if this will happen, as it takes an investment of time to be with them and interact, and all of us are already busy with our lives. However, I’m glad of the opportunity, and it was extremely fun to hang out with a group of people that we really didn’t know, yet had so much in common with (theater, acting, performing, and, not surprisingly I guess, science fiction).

When I’m people watching, I sometimes wonder if the people walking by are those who I could be really close friends with. That if for a little different twist of fate I’d be hanging out with different crowds, and care about them as much as I dearly care about the people I love now.

It gives me pause.

I’ve been having strange dreams lately.

Hmm, let me try that again. I have strange dreams all the time.

I’ve been having frustrating dreams that make me want to hunt down the Sandman, tie him to a chair covered in glass, and make him listen to twenty straight hours of “The Captain and Tennille” music while making him drink orange juice laced with mint flavored toothpaste.

I’ve not been having nightmares. I rarely get those. As usual, I’m having the very long dreams that have a full plot and action.

The problem is that for the past week, about three to six times each night when I wake up, one of the characters was about to tell me something extremely profound and life altering.

You know, the meaning of life sort of thing, a future lottery ticket number, or how to deal with a tough situation at work. Most of the time I can’t remember what it was they were even intending to tell me, but I do remember that it was incredibly important and I had better listen to that message.

Every single time I wake up right before I’m about to get The Answer.

I want to throttle someone, but like all my dreaming issues, I’ll have to just bear with it until this phase goes away.

I’m feeling pretty good today.

Oh, I am a bit tired. I stayed out after Improv last night to hang out at the bar and chat, so I didn’t get home until around midnight. I had aerobics today, so I was up before 7 AM to exercise.

But on the whole, I feel pretty good.

I usually only tend to notice how I feel when something is wrong. Like when I have a sore throat, runny nose, or the odd tuchas problem.

Saturday I thought something was wrong. I went to aerobics and barely made it through. I felt like I was dying out there, and definitely not going at my full abilities. Heck, the sixty-year-old women were more energetic than me.

Then I remembered.

I had given blood the day before. Less than 20 hours before. No wonder why I felt like a puddle of goo.

So, next time, no workouts until at least 48 hours has passed.

I’m also concerned that my hernia is coming back. The stomach one is definitely there (though small like before, so not an emergency). But the other one is what has me worried.

My first hernia was in the third grade, and the surgery lasted over 25 years. This last one, if there really is a problem, has lasted less than three. I have an appointment with a different surgeon at the end of the month.

Still, I’m quite happy. As far as I can tell, my wife and son are also healthy.

I suspect that, because I’ve said that, I’ll be in pain soon if my statements jinx that.

Here’s hoping to continued good health!