ISleepInADrawer.com

Leap Day

After a walk along Green Lake, I cleaned my room... while Zach watched the Oscars on my lickable flat-screen TV.

I've seen many movies in my TV-laden 23 years, but I just wasn't inspired to see many this year. Thus, I wasn't really ga-ga or up-in-arms about any nominees. Except...

Oh, Bill Murray. I've seen you through...

Ghostbusters...

Caddyshack...

And so much more. Saturday Night Live and Tootsie through Wild Things and now Lost in Translation. You rock. You so rock. And I was proposing a tie between you and the delectable Johnny Depp.

And I lost. *sigh*

But Mr. Murray, you should've won.

From Ghostbusters (Venkman=Murray):

On their first ghost bust...
Dr. Egon Spengler: There's something very important I forgot to tell you.
Dr. Peter Venkman: What?
Spengler: Don't cross the streams.
Venkman: Why?
Spengler: It would be bad.
Venkman: I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean "bad"?
Spengler: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.
Dr. Raymond Stantz: Total protonic reversal.
Venkman: That's bad. Okay. Alright, important safety tip, thanks Egon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Interviewing Alice, an aged librarian, about her paranormal experience...
Venkman: Alice, I'm going to ask you a couple of standard questions, okay? Have you or any of your family been diagnosed schizophrenic? Mentally incompetant?
Alice: My uncle thought he was Saint Jerome.
Venkman: I'd call that a big yes. Uh, are you habitually using drugs? Stimulants? Alcohol?
Alice: No.
Venkman: No, no. Just asking. Are you, Alice, menstruating right now?
Library Administrator: What's has that got to do with it?
Venkman: Back off, man. I'm a scientist.

Yes, back off, man. I'm a scientist!

Graffiti

I knew Luckovich would come through on this with something clever! Good boy.

I actually got this first from Andrew Sullivan. I check in on him now and then to make sure he and I still disagree on 80% of all issues. But, at least we can come to some consensus on gay rights.

Worth

This morning, a discussion of college ID photographs led me to show my boyfriend my own ID from my college years. The picture was taken when I first registered at Augustana, some two weeks after I graduated high school (June '99).

His reaction:

"Well, I almost would have slept with you then, too!"

Almost?!
I thought it was a good picture!

Polar Climate

Well, it's finally happened. President Bush has come out in support of the Federal Marriage Amendment. In a nutshell:

"If we are to prevent the meaning of marriage from being changed forever our nation must enact a constitutional amendment to protect marriage in America."

Oh jeez. Here comes more polarization. Here and here vs. there and there.

If humor is drawn from such a pickle, I suppose I'm amused by the conservative assertions that gay marriage is as much of a threat to American society and the "true American way-of-life" as terrorism. I'm reminded of a speech Patricia Irelend, then-President of the National Organization for Women, gave several years ago at my collge. Her visit had nothing to do with gay marriage, or gay rights in general, but the topic came up during an open forum, and she expounded upon the conservative idea of terrorism and gay marriage being an equal threat.

An approximate quotation:
"I find the conservative comparison laughable. The idea that a terrorist could burst into a public setting and shout, 'Nobody move! I have a gay couple here and I know how to use them!'... It doesn't quite have the same effect as a bomb, don't you think?"

Go Patricia.
Boo Bush. Naughty boy. No treat.

My Place in Society

HA!

Some of these posters go a little overboard (at least for my quiet self) to make their point. Others are just f*cking brilliant.

Many thanks to Adam for the link.

Hazard Zone

Luckovich is on to the real threat.

Bam!

The Game

Today, Green Party guru Ralph Nader is apparently supposed to announce whether or not has announced that he is going to run for President this round. Apparently, though he received roughly 3% of the popular vote in the 2000 election, he has received quite a large share of the blame for George W. Bush's victory, due in large part from Nader's uncanny ability to "steal" disillusioned Dems from the disorganized, middle-reaching Gore camp. Should be interesting to see what Nader decides to do Should be interesting to see how much momentum his campaign gains this time around... and if he runs, if he'll again contribute to a Bush-Cheney victory this November.

*sigh* Let the games begin...

Roots

Thanks to the Poje for showing me this delightful quiz that determines your liguistic character ("Yankee or Dixie?"). Considering where I was raised (see below), and that I've largely lost my Southern accent, I thought I'd score about 50/50...

My record:
Akransas = birth to age four-and-a-half
Florida = four-and-a-half to eight-and-a-half
Illinois = eight-and-a-half to twenty-two
Washington = twenty-two to present

My score:
"83% (Dixie). Did you have any Confederate ancestors?"

And as far as I know, I have only a few true blue Confederate ancestors. The rest ventured down there as post-war carpetbaggers, I believe. How honorable!

So, how'd you fare? What's your linguistic score?

Dreamcatcher

This is what happens when Zach and I debate politics, the election, the Federal Marriage Amendment, segregation, civil unions, discrimination, and all sorts of other goodies just before bed:

Dream #1

Talk about fast forward... this dream compresses sixteen years of politics! So, in November, a Kerry-Edwards ticket barely wins the popular vote and the Electoral College vote from the Bush-Cheney camp... whilst Republicans hold the House and get a tighter grip on the Senate. Little is done, except for passing of the FMA through Congress and a halt on the ballooning defecit. Massachusetts finds some legalities to delay gay marriage until the state constitution is amended to define man-woman marriage and bar civil unions.
Four years later, Kerry bows out due to health reasons, and Edwards proudly takes up the reigns to get elected with his spunky, smiling running mate, Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton! They beat a George W. Bush-John Ashcroft ticket into the dirt, and the Dems get back the Senate just in time to appoint two of vibrant President Edwards' nominees (left-leaning moderates!) to the Supreme Court to replace retiring Chief Justice Rehnquist and Justice O'Connor. VP Clinton and her well-spoken hubby spend their first year touring the country campaigning against the FMA - it goes through Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas, Texas, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, North Dakota, Oregon, Utah, Oklahoma, and Kentucky... but then loses ground in other states and is slowly buried. An amendment giving D.C. representation in Congress (two senators and one representative) is proposed and passed, going to state legislatures by the midterm elections. At midterms, the Senate goes 50-50, with VP Clinton casting many deciding votes in regards to balancing the federal budget and decreasing the deficit Edwards meanwhile, and now-UN-ambassador Kerry (I guess his health improved), go far in repairing international relations.
An Edwards-Clinton ticket wins re-election by a close margin against a Jeb Bush-Condi Rice ticket - and those four years went fast in my dream. But somewhere in there, the now-centrist Supreme Court rules the federal Defence of Marriage Act unconstitutional, and former-President Bill Clinton publicly (and poeticially) apologizes for signing such a "blantant act of discrimination." Cue criticism from the right, and polarization across the nation. Courts have to strike down state DOMAs, and repeal any man-woman-marriage constitutional amendments. Hawaii becomes the first state to allow gay marriage, and its tourist industry booms (even more than it already has) with many now-wed gay couples staying there for their honeymoons. Following the same line of prosperity, California follows, as do a few New England and Midwestern states. The D.C. amendment passes, and the House is shuffled to give D.C. a representative while the Senate gets bigger by two.
Hillary Clinton runs with a VP candidate that I made up in my head... think of a cross between Washington Governor Gary Locke and Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. Anyway, the Clinton-Locke/Blagojevich ticket BARELY wins against a George W. Bush-Elizabeth Dole ticket. Hubby Bill Clinton, meanwhile, is elected one of the first of two Washington D.C. senators to Congress, and becomes majority whip.

(Yeah, it's obvious here... I'd also eaten pizza before bed.)

Interlude: James wakes up to use the bathroom.

Dream #2

Much darker. And much more real.
A Kerry-Clark ticket loses big time in November against a strong, well-funded, right-supported Bush-Cheney ticket. The FMA gets through Congress and is almost immediately approved in twenty-five states. When it gets to the Washington legislature, Zach and I go to Olympia to lobby against it, along with hundreds of others; and we're all arrested. Any arrested heteros are eventually set free, but the gay protesters are put on trial, fined, and released "under surveillance of the Department of Homeland Security." Similar arrests occur across the nation to any opponents of the FMA, and eventually 40 states approve the amendment. Bush, under pressure from the right, replaces Rehnquist and O'Connor in the Supreme Court with two conservatives, who uphold sweeping legislation the Republican Congress passes that essentially blames the "homosexual conspiracy" for the nation's economic woes, terrorist fears, and the deficit (which has gotten even bigger by then).
As a result of said legislation, all homosexuals are forced to wear armbands with the infamous triangle and are corralled up in internment camps for more effective surveillance and monitoring. I have to quit grad school and become a mechanic in my camp - and not a very good one at that. Zach is taken to prison because he once ran for state representative in Iowa, and the new legislation forbids gays from running for public office (the law is also retroactive).

(Luckily, my alarm went off before that dream could progress any longer.)

So I guess Dream #1 is really a dream, and Dream #2 is more of a nightmare. And the reality, as always, will be somewhere in between.

Domino Effect

Yes, the mayor of San Francisco is authorizing the county clerk to issue marriage licenses to homosexual couples. No, the world (as predicted by some conservative groups) has not ended.

But here's the best part...

Chicago may follow!

I suppose I should emphasize the word may here. But still, it's uplifting to know that the Windy City mayor and the Cook County clerk are leaning in San Francisco's direction. Good job, Illinois.

Polarization, here we come!

A Thousand Words

A few of you asked for 'em. Maybe this'll tide you over until I can dig up anything substantial.

Physical Age: 4 months
Mental Age: 4 months
[Arkansas, Jan. '81]

Physical Age: 23 years
Mental Age: 4 months
[Seattle, Nov. '03]

Don't worry... I'll say it for you.
"Nice beaver!!..."
[Portland, Jan./Feb. '04]

The Great Emancipator and I... Hey, I'm from Illinois, after all!
[Portland, Jan./Feb. '04]

Cartoon Joy in Atlanta

Is it any wonder why Mike Luckovich is my favorite political cartoonist? If I'd pursued that job at the CDC, I'd be rolling in Atlanta Journal-Constitution subscriptions, just because he works for them.

Rock on.
That is all.

Sandwiches

My last paid holiday until May is now over. And it's turning out to be a very unproductive Tuesday/really-feels-like-Monday. But...

--A friend from college reminded me via e-mail of a photograph taken of us and another friend at graduation last May. I was standing between Watts and Poje, and apparently the picture, when published in the Augustana Magazine (does every college have its own magazine?), boasted this caption:

"Augustana's Lincoln Laureate from the Class of 2003, James (center), is sandwiched by classmates Patrick Watts (left) and Joshua
Poje (right)."

Sandwiched? Hot. Not grounds for celebration, though... just sexual innuendo - as I'm the only Sister of Dorothy in that photograph.

--After hearing all the benefits from a labmate, I'm highly tempted to become a member of the Seattle Art Museum for a year. Cheap, accessible art = hot.

--For the next twenty-six hours, welcome to James-is-an-Intellectual-Wreck. Why? I'm giving lab meeting tomorrow. It's journal club time! And for you science-brains out there who are interested, this is what I've chosen to cover:

A. Verdel et al., "RNAi-Mediated Targeting of Heterochromatin by the RITS Complex." Science 303. 672 (2004).

Sh*t. I'd better get to work.

The Heart-Lung Machine

Holiday weekend = good eatin'

Friday rolled around with stress-upon-stress at work. But finally, Zach rescued me with a pho dinner (And I finally learned how to pronounce it... "fuh"). He then departed to my neighbor's house for a (most unlucky) Friday the 13th Party. Hadley and I, meanwhile, had been invited to a recruitment party for the UW's Molecular and Cellular Biology Ph.D. program. Hadley's a pseudorecruit (though her path is M.D./Ph.D.), and we're both friends with another former Hutch intern who, like us, came back... but came back as a graduate student. Hence our invitation. I don't know about Hadley, but I was nervous enough about being in a room full of uber-cerebral-power that I nearly pissed my pants.

But, needless to say, my concerns were unsubstantiated. Amy (the aforementioned former intern) and her boyfriend Sean introduced us to quality individuals... and put plenty of alcohol in my hands. Excellent time, excellent folks, and James mellowed. Wow. I even convinced Zach to show up later on and meet everyone. Granted, I was pretty smashed by the time he showed up, but I don't believe his claims that I introduced him with, "This is my boyfriend Zach. He's a huge dork." We somehow got back to my place, and poor Hadlers even had to stay the night before maneuvering home.

As for Saturday, my financial woes emplored me long ago to converse with Zach and agree that no exchange of gifts or whatnot would occur on the great Valentine's Day. We rented silly movies, held hands, called each other dorks, and dined at Kingfish Cafe... We chose it at the last minute over another Southern place, la Louisiana in Seattle's Central District. (After all, Zach wants to sample the foods of my childhood.) As for the cafe... Oh, the lines were long (stretching along a city block!), and we waited and people-watched for an hour, but it was well worth the wait! All that terrific home-cooked Southern food from my childhood plastered on the menu... laden plates... SO good! Go there NOW! Well, if you're in the Seattle area. My excessive drinking the previous evening necessitated a diet Pepsi, instead of wine. But, we appetized on fried green tomatoes and the first homemade fresh hushpuppies I'd had in over a decade... and the red beans and rice I had for my meal came with real honest-to-God cornbread. And dessert is called for in such an arena - especially with pecan-and-sweet-potato pie. Basically, foodwise and companywise, it was the best Valentine's Day I'd ever had. I'm not big on Hallmark holidays, but yeeha!

And finally, I think I've succeeded in stretching muscles in my upper chest somehow... because, damn, it hurts. Well, sometimes. Yes, if the pain persists, I'll see my doctor... as if she doesn't see me enough. But it's either a stretched muscle, or I've somehow damaged my rib cage. And I don't know about you, but I haven't been kicked by any llamas lately. The heartburn has yet to come back, and hopefully never will. But with all these obscure chest maladies slapping me upside the head, I suppose I should just sign up for a heart-and-lung transplant right now. I've heard the heart-lung machines are awesome anyway.

Venereal Disease

Though I'm not single this Valentine's Day, I'm not much of a fan of Hallmark Holidays. Celebrate however you wish. But, I personally remember Valentine's Day wishes from a peer in college:

"Have a nice VD!... If ya know what I mean..."

Sensations

After dinner last night, I was driving Zach to his apartment... as I drove, I was suddenly struck with some discomfort around my chest... nothing major, mind you. Just something mild and unpleasant. I gave it no mind and kept driving. Then, the mild discomfort was replaced with a burning sensation - just around or below my heart. I clued Zach in on this, though he could already tell that something was up.

"Well, maybe you have heartburn."

Me? Heartburn?

"Zach, that's ridiculous. I'm only twenty-three."

(Because, obviously, it's much more likely that I was having a heart attack; or Dengue Fever; or the nasty side effects of a Vulcan mind meld.)

But me? Get heartburn? Zach admitted that he got it, in addition to some other anxious conditions periodically at the beginning of law school. But I'm not in law school. I'm not in any angst-ridden situation. It's just me - eating the same, doing the same, acting the same. And suddenly my heart burns?

So, taking-Zach-home evolved into keeping-James-from-panicking. My insane brain manufactured other maladies - a tight chest, disorientation, you get the idea. Thus, taking-Zach-home became buying-James-his-first-antacids.

Antacids.

For heartburn? But... I'm twenty-three! I can't get heartburn! No one I know gets heartburn! Especially at twenty-three! Ludicrous! There must obviously be an alternative explanation. (Like a Vulcan mind meld gone awry?) So, am I dying? American media teaches me that only sixty-year-olds get "heartburn." Damn premature aging. Damn defective human cage.

Visionary

I should quit sitting near freaks on the bus. They raise their voices, and their general conversations give me heartburn. Or maybe it's rage. I can't tell which. Anyway, overheard this morning:

The players: thin, well-dressed, caucasian gay guy and his equally thin and well-dressed "fag hag" girlfriend.

Gay guy: "So I ended that date pretty quickly... He was just too 'bookish'."
Fag hag: "Well, sometimes that can be cute..."
Gay guy: "You're not serious! He was a freak! Some college know-it-all. Never gone to the bars! Doesn't dace! Barely drinks!"
Fag hag: "Was he cute?"
Gay guy: "He could've been; but get this - he doesn't even shop at Banana Republic... the cute coat he had he later said was from Buffalo Exchange!" [Buffalo Exchange is a used and vintage clothing store... very good deals. And I shop there often.]
Fag hag: "Well, college guys can't always afford expensive clothes and - "
Gay guy (interrupting): "I could!"
Fag hag: "Well, yeah. But... you're from a wealthy family..."
Gay guy: "So?! The issue with him wasn't money... it's IMAGE. He gave gay guys a bad image. Here's the point: gay guys should be well-dressed, and thin. Watch MTV and VH1. Listen to popular music. We should dance, and dance well. Our jobs should be hip and cool - not something dumb like 'going to college to be a teacher or a doctor.' That's retarded. That's not us - and by 'us' I mean gay guys. So gay guys like that loser I left after one date aren't really gay guys. They dress in cheap clothes, don't belong to a gym, can't dance, don't look pretty, watch science fiction, and read too much. That's not gay. That's just sad."

I got up and moved to a seat in the back of the bus so I wouldn't be tempted to ram my CD player down his throat. After all, that would've been a waste of a good CD player.

Granted, I have a science background; so maybe my definition is a bit convoluted. But here's my definition of "gay guy": A genetic male (XY sex chromosome combination) who's primarily attracted to other men.

Unfortunately, such a visionary (non-image-laden) definition would obviously encompass the loser I heard on the bus this morning. I'm not sure if I want him in the "club."

Quality Day

Yesterday wasn't good, per se. But quality.
--Despite the fact that it's winter, it was perfectly sunny in the afternoon.
--My experiments from last week MAY have worked.
--Leftover chicken vindaloo from Cedar's for lunch.
--An undergraduate technician brought in a carrot cake "just because." Notice how most of these items for a "quality" day have to do with food? Should I be concerned here?
--I am "famous." I am mentioned in the acknowledgements section of a paper that appeared in a recent edition of The Journal of Bacteriology. Not a publication for me at all - but still, my name is now printed in a professional journal. A first step, I suppose. The paper is from the University of Iowa lab I interned at between my sophomore and junior years in college. The graduate student I worked with has published, and I'm one of a dozen people mentioned in that short section. Not a big deal to anyone - except me!
--I bought another bookshelf last night at IKEA. I'm tired of stacking books and CDs on the floor! Now, I just need someone to put it together for me.

Catalog of Regal Nonconformities

Infinite Regress

Talk about disquieting...

From the BBC:
Bush Sets Case as 'War President'
A snippet to wet your appetite... "When it does come time to vote in November, [U.S. President George W. Bush] said he thought the biggest issue would be 'who can properly use American power in a way to make the world a better place'." [Emphasis added]
American power? A "better" place? And I'm the one sitting here fearing we're on the brink of regression - relapsing into a less-developed state. I don't think his Administration is making the world better for future generations - but worse.

So, yesterday, I caucused for Senator John Kerry. Not my first choice, mind you, but caucus rules necessitated the change. I started out as "undecided," then went for Senator John Edwards, and finally ended up in Camp Kerry. But I'd honestly vote for a llama over our current President.

And some disturbing developments back in the Midwest, at Zach's old law school (courtesy of the Des Moines Register):

Fourth Activist in D.M. Ordered to Testify: the Federal Probe also Focuses on a November Antiwar Forum Held at Drake University. By Jeff Eckhoff and Mark Siebert

Judge's Gag Order Silences Drake Campus. By Madelaine Jerousek

Thanks to Sam for tipping me off to the happenings of anti-war protests and Drake University.

I would compose a letter in protest, but friends of mine that have were placed on "watch" lists.
*Sigh* Canada, anyone?

Aspirations

When I was younger, I had goals. Lofty, noble goals.

Like driving an RV and living in Alaska

Yep. When we lived in Florida, at the tender age of five, I resolved to:

1. Purchase an RV.
2. Learn to drive above RV with considerable skill.
3. Drive above RV to Alaska (I was desperate to see snow, after all).
4. Drive around Alaska in above RV and live in it "all the time."

I had it all planned out: my RV would be huge - big-screen TV, full-sized bed (I was getting sick of my twin bunkbeds at the time), couch and recliner, kitchenette is a must (I'd be living out of it, after all!), HAM radio, comfy driving seats, mucho shelf and storage space for all my books, and (of course) prints of van Gogh's and Turner's greatest paintings on the walls... oh, and fresh flowers. in vases fused to various surfaces.

I was awesome. I had it all planned out. I'd winter in Anchorage - and find a hotel that would pity me and offer me a free plug-in to keep the RV from freezing beyond recognition. [The notion of "plug-ins" for cars had only recently been explained to me by my father. As I'd only lived in Arkansas and Florida at that point, I had some trouble fathoming temperatures dropping that low. I was fascinated.] I'd spend my summers driving along to all the major must-do's in Alaska - Anchorage, Fairbanks, Valdez, Seward, Fort Yukon, Nome, even up to Barrow. And what about Juneau? Well, even at the tender age of five, I'd already read (I swear! I read all the time!) in an encyclopedia (Yeah, I even read those...) that the great Alaskan capitol was only accessible by plane or boat. Fearing my RV, heaving under the great stress of my worldly treasures (I knew I was a packrat), would sink the ferry, I resolved to station it in Valdez until I completed my tour of Juneau and Skagway. I also realized the necessity of repeating this RV-abandonment when seeing the Alexander Archipelago, the Aleutian Islands and Kodiak Island.

I presented the whole plan to my parents, and told them I'd drive down the highway through Canada to see them every now-and-then. I think they were so impressed that I knew the colonial capitol of Alaska ("New Archangel was the capitol of Alaska when the Russians ran it. But now it's called Sitka. I'll have to go there when I take boats around the Alexander Archipelago..."), that they became too tongue-tied to oppose my Alaskan dreams.

I suppose, years passed... and it was assumed my RV aspirations passed as well. Fast-forward to the early 1990s. I was about twelve or thirteen. I somehow ended up at an RV show in the Quad Cities with my parents, and my Alaskan dreams resurfaced... much to their horror. I'm sure they regret taking me there, as it took several months again to purge my head of Alaskan flights-of-fancy. And they never took me to an RV show again.

I told Zach this whole story earlier this week. A few days ago, he announced that the "largest RV show in the Pacific Northwest" is being held in Seattle this weekend.

We're venturing there in about an hour. I tremble with excitement.

Perhaps I'll blog next from Alaska. Unless Zach is able to quell my lofty RV aspirations for the third time... which he probably will. But still, it's nice to know I had such noble goals from such an early age... and apparently still harbor them.

Lessons

Instead of a lecture in "civic responsibilities," how about a brief lesson in etymology?

The origin (or origins) of the term "caucus" puzzle the average etymologist. A bastardly, and decidedly word specific to "American" English, legend has it that the term first appeared in the diary of John Adams in 1763.

As to its origins, some conflicting (and many largely unsubstantiated) hypotheses:
--The Caucus Club of Boston - a gathering of men to discuss social and political events of the time. The name of the club itself was probably ripped from "kaukos," a Modern Greek term meaning "drinking cup," reflecting the club's additional purpose as an informal pub for its members.
--A twisting of the word "caulkers," in reference to a 1770 meeting held in one of Boston's shipbuilding districts. If John Adams did press pen to paper in 1763 and use the term, however, then perhaps this theory is nothing more than a Beer Hour Hypothesis.
--The Boston neighborhood of West-Corcus - Apparently, a true, raw, crisp Boston accent will pronounce it as "caucus."
--A popular myth states that "caucus" is really an acronym using the names of several famous American politicians from the eighteenth century: Cooper, Adams,Urann, Coulson, Urann, and Symmes. Few reputable etymologists take this theory (another Beer Hour Hypothesis) seriously.
--A markedly popular theory - Caucus is derived from caucauasu, which in the Algonquin dialect of Virginia roughly means "counselor."

Verdict: Obscure etymology for an obscure (and definitely "American") political process.

Today, at 10:00AM sharp, the Democratic Party for the State of Washington holds its caucus.
Do it. Unless you don't live in Washington. In which case, go back to bed.
Should be interesting for me, as I'm from a "closed primary" state like Illinois. And no, I still haven't completely decided who I'm going to caucus for. I'll be a last-minute swing voter, I suppose.

The Man with the Golden Gun

I am so cool. I have now completely learned a geeky science thing:

Biolistic Transformation (Translation: shooting DNA coated in gold particles at live cells)

Sweet. I am the Man with the Golden Gun... sort of.

In other news:

I saw my second performance by the Seattle Shakespeare Company with Grainne, Gareth, and Troy last night... King Lear. One word: awesome! King Lear was a tragedy I hadn't read, so I had no clue what I was getting into really... and I was pleasantly surprised. Hell, I was delightfully floored! Kudos to the artistic director! The plot seemed confusing on paper, but seemed perfectly clear on the stage - to my great relief. The actors were terrific; the sets minimalistic; the staging intricate; and the costuming modern and sexy. Especially Regan and the Duke of Cornwall.

And the fellow who played Cornwall was indeed gorgeous... especially in those leather pants and boots! Now, I actually recall a "theater person" I knew in high school who boasted of seeing a "modern, minimalist" performance of King Lear in which Regan is a slightly feminine gay son (still referred to as a "daughter") - and he and his "husband," the leather-clad Duke of Cornwall, became the leading (blatant) sex symbols of the play. I can see why! Of course, the Seattle Shakespeare Company kept all the original characters fitting with their original and intended genders, but the performance was utterly spectacular. I also have tickets to A Midsummer Night's Dream later on this Spring. I can't wait!

Wiretap

Overheard this morning at Sarah's favorite espresso bar, the Double Helix:

Female (possibly first-year) graduate student: "Yeah, it's too bad the training grant I'm on won't let me get paid by another grant; I should obviously be getting more money for what I'm doing here!"
Male graduate student: "Well, that's what all graduate students say. It's not an easy financial life while we're in school."
Female: "Well yeah. But I'm smarter than most. So I think I should get more. And I've been wondering if I could ever take a second job or something. I mean, it's not like the work so far has been difficult."
Male: "Um..."
Female: "I mean, this place is a sinch! I don't see why everyone makes a big deal and says it's hard. It's totally not!"

There you have it, folks... Reason #368 why I shouldn't go get an espresso between 9:00AM and 10:00AM. Apparently, the members of the Blatant and Offensive Arrogance Club also goes to get their espresso drinks in that time interval.

Best part: she had this annoying, condescending type of "nasal" voice that made one want to hit her. And her belt didn't match her shoes or purse.

Dark Page

The other night, Zach and I started debating on the gay marriage "issue."

Well, I suppose one could hardly call it a "debate," since we were in agreement on the issue; I suppose we simply "debated" the outcome of the "gay marriage debate" in Massachusetts and D.C.

(Yeah, brace yourselves. It's a long one.)

To me, the issue of gay marriage is not of a religious or moral nature. If you know anything about me, then you know I find nothing morally offensive to gay marriage. I see the issue of gay marriage as an issue of equality under the law. The issue by which the government looks at two men (or women) who say, "We love each other..." and decrees that the homosexual relationship is equal to the heterosexual relationship - and thus bestows all the legal rights of marriage upon said relationship. That the government says, "This is just as good. This is just as stable. It is no better; it is no less."

But look at what goes on now... the Federal Marriage Amendment is gaining ground in Congress; President G.W. Bush is considering a "constitutional process" to defend "the sanctity of marriage." What is the federal government saying? Perhaps this: "The union between one man and one man, or one woman and one woman, holds significantly less value than the union between one man and one woman." They say that the love between husband and wife is better than, and preferrable to, the love between two homosexuals. The former deserves all legal rights and privileges; the latter does not qualify for anything more than "friendship" as far as the law is concerned.

Gay "marriage," in the legal sense, would finally acknowledge that the love two men or two women can feel for one another is just as fulfilling, appropriate, and (dare I say) right as the love a man and a woman can feel for one another. About a week ago, Zach and I were listening to NPR, and a story popped up about the costs gay couples must currently endure to work out the legalities of applying such benefits (that are automatically conferred upon heterosexual couples) to their individual relationships. Lawyer fees, government penalties, parental rights, taxes, and time can lead to a losses of $11,000 to $15,000. And even then, after all that, there are some benefits that cannot be transferred by other legal means between same-sex partners. $11,000?! I don't know about you, but I don't have that kind of money. And what really adds insult to injury is the idea that a man and a woman can, in theory, meet on the street, walk to the courthouse, and pay whatever small state fees are required for a marriage license, and suddenly (and painlessly) get even more rights and privileges than I would have to pay $11,000 to $15,000 for. Does this strike anyone else as fair? Does this strike anyone else as equal?

Some opponents of gay marriage point to the fact that, when polled, some homosexuals aren't even active supporters of gay marriage. "See? Why give them the benefit when some of them don't even want it." So? The number of couples who want to marry is not the issue. The issue is fair and equal treatment for those couples (no matter how few or how many) who do desire to participate and gain those benefits. It is not a minority/majority issue; it is an equality issue - pure and simple.

What of civil unions? When Zach and I were "debating," I was horrified to find myself, for the first time, in support of civil unions. I used to scoff and say, "Huh... Civil Unions?... Just call it what it is... marriage." I used to think of civil unions like so: Let's say we're going to manufacture a dog for a heterosexual couple. We'll take the canine DNA sequence (Canis familiaris, you know), slap on some cell membranes and organelles. Add vital organs - heart, stomach, the oh-so-big-and-powerful mammalian brain, bones, blood, skin. The breath of life. Hair, eyes, spleen, claws, healthy-teeth-and-gums, etc. "There you have it," says the scientist. "I have built this animal for you - and we will call it a dog, for that is what it obviously is." Next, the scientist turns to a gay couple and says, "Now let's see about building one for you." Same-old-same-old, right? Canine DNA, cells, tissues, muscle, bone, blood, nerves (don't forget the big brain), and all the other stuff. An identical creation to the creature manufactured for the heterosexual couple, right? The scientists displays the finished product and says, "This is yours by law." The gay couple says, "Thank you for building us this dog." The scientist: "Oh, no! You cannot call it what it obviously is; that is just not moral. The heterosexual couple has that right; instead, you must call yours a camel. It may look like a dog, act like a dog, but it must be a camel."

I used to think of civil unions as that. Hell, I still do. A camel that's really a dog. Marriage in all but name. A regent? Perhaps. But I used to think, "If it looks like marriage, smells like marriage, and confers the same benefits as marriage, then just call it what it is... marriage." But it seems the rest of the country cannot handle that. "James, it's obviously a camel!" And I fear that, if I press to change it's name from camel to dog, then I'll lose the animal altogether. The scientist will turn to the gay couple and say, "I was going to build you a lovely 'camel,' but I won't now since you insisted and insisted that I call it a dog! For shame. Only the hetero couple can have such a right." I suppose I've become so afraid of losing "marriage" (even the camel), that I'd rather have civil unions over nothing at all.

And why do I harbor such fears? Look around you! Thirty-eight states now have laws or constitutional amendments in place barring gay marriage. Thirty-eight! Indiana is considering becoming the thirty-ninth! The Federal Marriage Amendment is gaining momentum in the House of Representatives; the President is on the verge of supporting it. It will eventually get through the Senate - though there are some moderate Republicans who may oppose it (a practically-independent senator from Maine here, a socially-liberal senator from Pennsylvania there), the Republican base will crack the party whip pretty fiercely and say, "This is it. This is the defining moment for the Party. Now fall in line and vote with the President." AND I guarantee that enough swing Democrat votes will capitulate and join the Republican base. And there you have it - two-thirds majorities in both houses of Congress. And what of the states? Three-quarters of the state legislatures must approve the Federal Marriage Amendment. Recall the above - thirty-eight states already have passed laws or amendments that basically concur with the FMA. I'm sure many of those will quickly rally behind the FMA; and enough swing states (just like enough swing senators) can fall in rank and approve the amendment.

And then... there you have it. Social legislation written into the Constitution. A Dark Page. You'd think we would've learned our lesson with the Prohibition Amendment? You think it was embarrassing enough to have that Dark Page on our books, and have to go through the lengthy process of repealing that amendment? Well, we did. But I don't think this nation learned its lesson... or that lesson was hastily forgotten and burried. Alcohol, after all, is one thing. Gay marriage is another. If the idea (that the love two men or two women can feel for one another is fundamentally flawed, and less than the love a heterosexual couple can feel) is written into the Constitution, it will be repealed... eventually (we will come around... eventually). But it won't be repealed in my lifetime. It will take several generations, I fear, before such an error is recongized, and the political process is allowed to take hold.

Am I a pessimist? I prefer the term "realist." And I'd love to be wrong. But I've been studying this issue a lot lately - the politics, the voting, the public opinion... everything.

Call it marriage, and they say no. Call it a dog, and they say no.

Call it civil unions, and some more say yes. Call it a camel, and some say yes.

I'm so afraid of losing it all, that I fear I'll settle for the camel.
But then again, the legacy of Jim Crow teaches us that, after all, separate is always unequal.

Geography

Apparently, I'm no great traveller... lived in four states, and I've only been to thirty-two of them, plus D.C.

See if you can do any better.

It seems I've neglected:
--the Southwest
--the Oddity of California
--portions of the Great Plains
--pockets of the South
--northernmost New England
--#1 (Delaware, of course)
--#49 (Alaska)
--#50 (Hawaii, if you know your U.S. history)

As for countries, it's too embarrassing to map out. I've been to four small European nations. Yep, that's all.

It's amazing how the world is partitioned. I can drive two hours north on Interstate 5 right now, plant one foot on Canadian soil, drive home, and say "I've been to Canada." But, as any idiot would know, in that situation, I didn't really go to Canada at all.

Speaking of which, I should go to Canada sometime.

Adventures in Babysitting

Weekend-in-Review:

(The Portland Report)

Friday:
I deliberately got to work "early" (that is, 8:00AM, when I believe most "normal" people get to work "normally") for the sole reason that Zach could pick me up from work 3:30/4:00ish to get on the road. 3:20PM - (While I'm in the midst of wrapping up an experiment) "James, do you have time to talk about the [blah blah blah] protocol you're doing next week?" Dah! I love my labmates, but they have sh*tty timing.

Bethatasitmay, Jamesbrain went into overdrive, and I got outta the lab in time to be on I-5 with Zach (I was driving) well before Seattle weekend rush hour traffic. But I can't say the same for Tacoma/Olympia. JamesRoadRage: "I hate you all! [Cursing and insults about mothers.] Get off the F*CKING road, fat cow! This is MY playpen!" We got into Portland around 8:30PM, and of course got lost getting to the hotel due to a sudden closure of I-5 for some "bridge demolishment." Quad Cities, anyone?

The hotel itself was a tiny establishment across from the convention center, but luckily only a short drive across the Willamette to the downtown. After we got settled, we headed downtown to find a late dinner. As luck would have it, we turned a corner and I found myself staring at a purple octopus... marking a Greek restaurant a labmate had fondly recalled spending a birthday at. Unfortunately, the wild upstairs was booked for a private reception, so we ate downstairs and listened to the wild music, breaking dishes, and rounds of "Opaaa!" But the gyro was good.

Zach, a good homo, had actively researched Portland's gay bars... so after the purple octopus, we headed to Ember's. Verdict: Interesting... My old home metropolis sported six gay bars [gasp]... and Ember's embodied an unholy mixture of all six of them. I won't say much more than that; you Quad-Citians out there will understand. The bar was decent, until I had a Tequilla sunrise that just about made my hair fall out... ["Whatever's in there... it was NOT Tequilla..."]

Saturday:
At Ember's, Zach "limited" himself to two drinks. So imagine my surprise Saturday morning when he's hungover. Ah, my poor lightweight boyfriend. So we slept in a generous amount, and headed over to nerdland: Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. Hell yeah! The verdict: I am way cool! I dragged hungover Zach all through the life sciences center, through the "T-Rex: Hunter or Scavenger?" exhibit, up through the simulated earthquake house, into the fossil preparation room, the tech center, the [mating] walking sticks display, the hissing cockroaches house... coolio! Best part: several dozen "logic game" exhibits designed for small children. Yes, we gave them a try... and we're dumb. 50% success rate, at best. Worst part: I spent about fifteen minutes busting my squishy brainmatter on one particularly perplexing puzzle before walking off in a huff, only to see four-year-old "Heidi" run up and solve it in less than thirty seconds just after I left. Damn you, Heidi.

After OMSI bliss, I reluctantly returned to the hotel for hungover boyfriend to nap. He woke up completely refreshed, just in time for Powell's. Holy Toledo!... that place is f*cking huge! We immediately resolved to return Sunday, as we only got to three of the seven or eight rooms of books. [Homer: "Mmmmm... bookstore that fills a whole city block..."] After five or six unnecessary purchases [Homer: "Mmmmm... no sales tax in Oregon..."], we reluctantly tore ourselves away and dined at a Lebanese restaurant downtown, Karam. This is why Karam is cool: the food was fabulous. This is why I will live in Karam: they had maps on their tabletops.

Next on Zach's list of Portland gay bars: Silverado. Imagine my surprise to learn that it was ALSO a strip joint. Ah, well. I didn't complain! While small, the bar was partitioned pretty decently into dance, sit-and-drink, or stand-and-watch arenas - so we spent the evening circulating between these areas. Zach refrained from drinking... and I drank enough for the both of us! The atmosphere was great, the music wasn't too loud, and the best part wasn't even the naked guys - I just loved the fact that the place and patrons didn't seem at all portentous. In fact, the whole city thankfully lacked the poretentous and pretentious atmosphere that seems to plague Seattle - particularly in its Capitol Hill bars. I felt entirely at home - in Silverado, Karam, Powell's, the OMSI, everywhere... all those different establishments. I never felt inadequate, or unfairly judged.
Back to Silverado: drinking, some dancing, lots of conversation. We eventually struck up a conversation with Sean and his gang, who were celebrating Sean's twenty-second birthday... and spent the rest of our time at the bar sitting with them. Good times, good people. And it was at about that time that I realized, "Hell, I LOVE this city. The unpretentious Seattle!" I enjoy a healthy dose of humbleness.

Sunday:
Pridemoment: I was not (nor have I ever been) hungover.

Walks in Chinatown, and a park on the western bank of the Willamette River... which made us both nostalgic for the Mississippi.

We spent a good deal of time exploring the downtown and the Portland State University campus... and finally headed back up to Powell's to browse the rooms we didn't get to on our first pass. Then, upon the urgings of one of Zach's many guidebooks, we headed to the eastern end of the city along Hawthorne Boulevard, and ended up in a nest of "alternative" shops and restaurants. I got a handmade sweater (Yay for winter sales!); Zach almost got a lawyer t-shirt. Dinner, a little more exploring, and then back to Seattle.

The best part: despite my above bitching about Seattle's ego trip, it's still my home. So, reaching the final crest on I-5, and having the city skyline spread out around me, I couldn't help but think, "Now there's a sight for sore eyes!" (Driving makes me sleepy, anyway.)

The Verdict: I'm definitely going back to Portland. Love it, love it, love it. A big city without the big city atmosphere. Clean, warm, sociable, humble, spirited. Plenty to do - without the arrogance of boasting that "there's plenty to do." And hell, though Seattle's my home now, I wouldn't mind making Portland my home in the future.

Ascent

I am back.

I am tired.

I love Portland; but I also love being back home.

I am slightly disturbed, yet also slightly elated, by the fact that Seattle has become "home."

I am ready to write a huge post with all the Oregon Happenings... but it is 11:45AM (PST), and I only stumbled into work thirty minutes ago. Sleeping in seemed like a good idea last evening; today it looks more like an Exercise in Poor Judgement. Live and learn. More later.