GRABBINGSAND

It’s on. Air America Radio. Radio from the left. No Atlanta stations are carrying it, at least not yet, but the Internet is everywhere. Listen directly, or via AM620 Portland.

I’m not going to argue about this: I’m right. Children need art and music and literature; they need to go to art galleries and museums and theatres; they need to learn to play musical instruments and to act and to dance. They need these things so much that human rights legislation alone should ensure that they get them.

Commentary from Philip Pullman, author of the His Dark Materials trilogy. If you haven’t read them, you should, no matter how old you think you are.

Three decades and two years. Today.

I remember when I first learned the concept of a decade. It was 1980 and I was 8. It was the year of my first fully conscious presidential election. I know that Carter had defeated Ford in 1976 — the year of the Bicentennial, the drummer-boy quarter. My kindergarten teacher had stapled cardboard faces of each candidate on the bulletin-board, but these were just two men with two names and what they did beyond being decoration was beyond me. But in 1980, I knew a little bit more. Jimmy Carter was my candidate of choice, though my reasoning left much to be desired. He was from Plains, Georgia, and I was living in Georgia, so certainly one should vote for someone from their own state, right? Looking back, I guess I my political acumen was more of a “root for the home team” attitude, but I did make a point of telling my parents to vote for Carter that November. They told me they did.

Just like 1976 had been all about the two-hundredth anniversary of our country’s founding, 1980 was all about the coming of the new technology. Everything was written in that glowing green LED font, as if we were all going to be reading our life stories from the screen of a calculator. As it is, we’re all documenting our lives in TrueType fonts on virtual servers. It was the era of the liquid crystal digital watch and we were fascinated by the little monophonic songs they could play. Mine played “Adelvise” “Edelweiss” (from The Sound of Music). The toys of future let you play with your television, but still had fake wood-grain trim like an LTD station wagon. It’s a miracle any of us went outside at all, what with the fun to be had inside. And besides, you’d want to be indoors if tomorrow happen’d to be The Day After, wouldn’t you?

Because the new decade brought us a new president and the new president had a winning smile and a jovial attitude that so sharply contrasted with resurrected fears of nuclear winter and radiation poisoning. Every child from my generation knows that Reagan loved jellybeans and that an airborne nuclear explosion would send out an electromagnetic pulse capable of instantly stopping everything from your prized digital watch to your beloved Atari. In the meantime, we played with Star Wars action figures and Ronnie Raygun toyed with a Star Wars missile defense system. We had GI Joes and Transformers to defend us, at least in our imaginations, and for that we are still thankful. From ramparts on picnic tables and fortresses made on frontporch stoops, our store-bought plastic defenders kept us from having to face looming catastrophe alone.

32 years. Seven presidents. Eight or so changes-of-address. Several jobs. Many friends gained and lost. Relatives passed. Mistakes made and successes had. And while I might wonder just what the eight year old me would think of the thirty-two year old I am, I am always reassured by a simple idea. Everything that has gone before has brought me to where I am right now.

Yet, if I could… If I could shout back through time, I would reassure the me that was.

The popular people, they don’t matter. Yes, you do have a gift. More than one. Practice your piano lessons because your mom wants to hear you play. Do your homework, even if you are bored to tears. Be honest with yourself and let that honesty color your interactions with others. Stand up for yourself. Keep listening to different music, as it will make you a better person. Keep watching the television shows that trigger your imagination. And keep reading, reading, reading everything you can find, from cereal boxes to comic books to novels too heavy to lift. Those questions you have about your world and God and everything in between, don’t be afraid to ask them. Listen to your grandfather, as you’ll miss his voice when he’s gone. Pay attention to your uncle, because he’s teaching you about wit and charm. Don’t fear your dad and hide behind your mom, because they both really love you and it would be so much easier if you’d figure that out before you get into college. And just be yourself… your wierd, eccentric, geeked out glorious self.

For lack of a megaphone to the past, I will write for today and send secret messages to the future, even if it doesn’t glow as digitally as it once did.

Penny Arcade has a rather brilliant take on Kevin Smith’s current attitude about critics of his latest movie. One of those critics is me, and my review is over on JIVE right now. (Here’s a hint: I liked Jersey Girl.)

As of today, I have been a Mindspring Earthlink customer for eight whole years. To celebrate, Mindspring Earthlink baked me a cake. Or rather, a cupcake. Or actually, a picture of a cupcake.

Yay.

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Flickr is an online tool for chatting and sharing photos. It is entirely Flash-based and entirely free. You can also use Flickr to post the photos you share to a weblog — just like I’ve done here. Very cool, I think, but your mileage may vary.

Tycho at Penny-Arcade has been dealing with a new toy. No, it’s not a gaming console, though that is the norm at Penny-Arcade. The saga that has been making me laugh uncontrollably deals with a contraption meant to be much more practical: a LitterMaid. The first installment is from February 23rd. The second is from this past Monday. This is best read aloud.

I always see this thing in the SkyMall in-flight catalog, and the image in there always seems to imply that the device actually peels cats, devouring those that wander too near its plastic jaws. Turns out that’s not true.

If you don’t find humor in an automated feline outhouse, then perhaps you’ll be simultaneously amused and horrified to read that Jack Chick — he of the famous (and infamous) Chick Tracts — has extended his creative empire into the realm of television. Or at least TV on DVD. Now you can actually see the scorching fate of animated unrepentant sinners and, as the website proudly proclaims, “almost feel the crackling flames of hell as you watch.” Fun!

And speaking of animation — or reanimation — my review of Dawn of the Dead is up at JIVE.

Review is up over at JIVE for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Go see it. That is all.

1. What was the last song you heard?

“Policy of Truth (Transcendental Mix)” - Depeche Mode.

2. What were the last two movies you saw?

Jersey Girl & Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

3. What were the last three things you purchased?

Pretzels from the break room vending machine, a Diet Coke at AMC Phipps Plaza and Cake Batter ice cream (with Crunch Bar chunks and white chocolate chips) at Coldstone Creamery.

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?

Put a third coat of dark blue paint on the downstairs bathroom walls, plant the white leafy things purchased from Lowe’s in front of the porch, get a very necessary oil change for the Focus and write about three overdue reviews for JIVE.

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?

A help-needy user from London, my co-worker, another co-worker, my boss, and my lovely fiance. I could also say the cats, but they’re not human.

Another Friday, another five.

Even 4,300 miles away, an ocean between, tragedy doesn’t go unnoticed, even in the most mundane of means. A work email from this morning:

“Please be advised that due to a major situation which occurred in Madrid earlier today, interexchange carriers are reporting much heavier than normal call volume on circuits throughout the European area.”

For your afternoon reading: Who is ETA? Also, a moment-to-moment Spanish blog of news as it’s heard (in English).