Radiation redux

Here’s an update on a previous post. My former park in New York is still radioactive. A second radioactive hot spot was found after a grass fire this week. Again, the contamination is very mild but raises questions about what else is in that landfill.

I used to tromp around in that junk quite a bit. It’s incinerated garbage from the 1940s. When we dug holes we’d find old jars and bottles, ceramics, silverware, and rubber shoe soles.

Little Miss Sunshine

Attention: movie spoiler below! Go watch it first, then read on:

We watched “Little Miss Sunshine” on DVD last night. What a twisted movie, one of those alienation-in-the-modern-world films I like so much. It has a very ironic ending, a parody of child beauty pageants and how they sexualize little girls. Although the main theme of the movie was about a family overcoming their emotional separation from each other during a Great American Road Trip. Sort of like “Family Vacation” meets something more serious. I’m sure I’ll think of a suitable comparison later.

Tap City

Back to the stuff I like to write about.

My girlfriend scored tickets to “Tap City” a tap-dance show from New York. We went to see it this weekend. A troup of eight dancers performed a variety of solo, duet, and ensemble routines. I’ve never taken such a good look at tap dancing before. It’s very individualistic: even when they dance together each one moves differently and has hsi or her own style.

My first threat

My blog is in general a quiet one, read frequently by my friends and relatives who use it to keep in touch. But today I received a comment here from someone actually threatening to tell my coworkers why I called in sick this week. I posted why–or at least the part I cared to share with the World Wide Web–on Tuesday, March 20, 2007.

So if you are not here to share in the fun, please don’t bother commenting.

Go to sleep!

And now I cannot sleep. As of last night I was mostly over the cold I had. I went to bed early and started at the ceiling for about four hours, slept for an hour or less, stared at the ceiling for a couple more hours, and so forth. Once it gets to be about two or three o’clock I start thinking, “If I don’t get some sleep now I won’t until tomorrow night!” I got less than three hours of sleep by the time my alarm went off. I called in sick hoping I could make up the sleep this morning and go to work in the afternoon. So far it hasn’t worked and I am very tired.

You’d think after fighting a bad cold for four days my body would be ready for a good night’s sleep. I didn’t take any medicine last night. I wasn’t thinking about work or anything stressful. It’s very perplexing. Maybe I’m going nuts.


After being “slightly under the weather” a handful of times this winter, I’ve finally caught a full-fledged cold. It started off with a cough a few days ago. I feel much better today than yesterday or Friday night, but I still have a sore throat and a runny nose. And I’m tired. I haven’t slept well at all.

It didn’t stop me yesterday from getting my bike fixed. It’s been out all winter getting rusty. I bought a new chain and a friend helped me put it on and tune up the brakes and such. It’s in good shape. I’ll keep it inside the apartment for now, though I don’t really have room for it.

I hate being sick. What a crappy way to spend the weekend after a lousy day at work on Friday. The only good thing is that my voice sounds really cool, sort of like The Architect from “The Matrix”.

Iowa City Sunday

On the way home yesterday, we picked up some really good hot dogs from a butcher in Cedar Rapids. We had them for dinner yesterday and I had them again today. Now I am out of hot dogs.

The weather was nice again, so this afternoon we walked downtown and along the Iowa River. Here are some pictures.

Letter to the Iowa City Press-Citizen

Well I’ve done it again. My second letter to the editor in just over a week. This one was to the Iowa City Press-Citizen, regarding an opinion column about a family he saw on a reality televison show with a very odd lifestyle:

J.D. Mendenhall complained on Mar. 1 of parents recently featured on a reality television show “being guilty of, at the very least, child abuse or child endangerment.” though Mr. Mendenhall fails to mention any actual harm done to the children. How has this family has held together so long without advice from a man who writes about reality television shows? One might wonder about the irritating habits he inflicts upon his own family and house guests. However, I am not dying to know.

The family in question is from Iowa, and he fears that they contribute to a stereotype of Iowans as “backwoods, inbred and hickish”, which is actually what I think of when I see busybodies like him trying to foist fictional small-town, middle-American values on other people.