Friday, April 30, 2010

Just thought I'd mention

I've started another blog, this one dedicated to television shows I like.  Yes, I'm beginning my campaign to work for TV Guide.  You've caught me out.

But seriously, this allows me to write about my favorite shows without having to break into this blog--which is supposed to be about my life and observations about such--to say my piece.  If you like television, or any of my favorite shows--it's a pretty long list--head on over to check it out.

Living in the shadow of a giant

The recent eruption of the Icelandic volcano has brought up a few thoughts on what it's like to live within the blast shadow of one.  Our beautiful mountain is a sleeping giant.  We all know it.  And, like the possibility of a devastating earthquake, there's some likelihood that it'll wake up and smash us like the ants we might resemble.  But I refuse to fear such an event.  For one, there's nothing I can do about it.  For two, natural disasters are something it's almost impossible to avoid no matter where you live.  Here on the west coast it's earthquakes and volcanoes.  The southeast has hurricanes.  The midwest has tornadoes.  The southwest has droughts and flash floods.  Only the New England states and their nearest neighbors seem generally "safe," but are they really?  Given global warming it's only a matter of time before a hurricane ventures up that direction.

Mt. Rainier.  Too beautiful to fear.

Some may call it fatalism, but I tend to think of it as a kind of optimism.  I'll go ahead with my life not worrying about big volcanoes and possible meteor strikes caused by passing across the middle plane of the galaxy (one of my father's big concerns, apparently).  Because, well, there's not a fucking thing I can do about it.  I could avoid the mountain by moving, but, seriously, that would be a little like wearing a hazmat suit every day of your life just in case a toxic spill happened.  Shit happens.  But you can't and shouldn't, as they say, borrow trouble.

Probably doesn't hurt that I'm not particularly afraid of death.  I don't know what comes next, if anything comes next, but I'm fairly certain that there isn't a heaven or hell.  Both are absurd concepts when you get right down to it.  An eternity bowing and scraping to a narcissistic deity or eternal torture as punishment for a few temporary misdeeds?  Seriously?  How anyone can actually buy into this crap is beyond me.  Reincarnation actually makes a bit more sense.  But even oblivion is okay with me.  It's nice to think that something may continue, but anyone offering guarantees is selling something I don't want to buy.  If the coin is "faith," my pockets are perpetually empty.

So, yeah, the mountain may explode and squish us all in massive mudflows, boil us in lava or pyroclastic clouds, or choke us with ash.  Or a meteor may slam into the Earth and snuff all life as we know it in a nanosecond.  But, despite my lack of what would traditionally be called "faith," I like to think there's a reason we're here, a reason not served by the casual snuffing out of our existence.  The universe may be a matter of random chance, but maybe, just maybe, there might be a reason behind it all.  And maybe sentience has a purpose beyond what we can see or understand.

And, then again, maybe I'm just telling myself the things I need to tell myself in order to roll out of bed every day and turn a smile to the world.

Thursday, April 29, 2010


So, we went to Seattle last weekend for an anniversary dinner at the Fisherman's Restaurant on the pier.  (I always forget which one, but I know it was a pier).  My wife has always wanted to live in Seattle, an experience I personally place on my list just under getting torn apart by wild dogs.  I say "but parking's so expensive," to which she says, "I wouldn't own a car."
Thus speaks the woman who has NEVER been without a car.  I have.  Hate to say it, but the only way I'd live in any city like that is if I were independently wealthy and could afford to keep my car.  Besides, I love my car.  It's only the second vehicle I've ever owned I've felt this way about.  I'd no sooner give it up than I'd give up the thing which it allegedly symbolizes.

To distract you from thinking about that, here's a couple of pics.

This is where we had dinner.  The crab feast is phenomenal.  We got it with a 2 for 1 special, so it wasn't as spendy as it sounds.

 And here's a picture of the skyline from the pier.  Not as iconic as, say, a picture of the space needle, but still very cool.

I've nothing against Seattle, other than I think it sucks to drive there.  And the fact that I'm not really a city boy at heart (despite having spent time in many different cities).  I like Tacoma because, though it's a city, it's still got a smaller town feel to it.  I'm not even sure why.  Maybe because it's so close to Puyallup.