Cannonballs are Heavy

Top 5 Oscar Best Pictures

2011-02-27T17:50:00.000-08:00

Here's how we watch the Academy Awards at my house--we cheer whenever a film wins that we've actually seen. (Yay, Inception and Toy Story 3!)

In honor of the 83rd annual Oscars, here's MY list of

Top 5 Oscar Best Pictures

(These aren't my Top 5 Movies, per se, but just my Top 5 Favorites that won Best Picture. Sorry, Goonies. The Academy shut you out.)

#5 - My Fair Lady (1964)

Sure, they dubbed over Audrey Hepburn's singing voice with someone else, but you can't mask her terrific transformation from Cockney street flower seller to refined Englishwoman. And Rex Harrison is terrific as the pompous Professor Higgins. (Doesn't hurt that our high school did this musical when I was a sophomore. I can still sing "On the Street Where You Live" to this day.)

#4 - A Beautiful Mind (2001)

What starts out looking like a conspiracy theory story soon becomes a creepy true-life drama. Russell Crowe is more famous for his lead in Gladiator, but he's better here portraying real-life Nobel-prize winner John Forbes Nash, Jr.

#3 - Dances with Wolves (1990)

At first, I didn't like this movie because of its depressing resolution. But then I grew up and realized not all westerns need a happy ending. Kevin Costner's film makes me yearn for a Midwest view absent of highways and cell towers.

#2 - The Sound of Music (1965)

Another musical here, one that I've seen the most times out of all of these, thanks to growing up with only network TV. I have to admit, I still get nervous watching family von Trapp hide in the cemetery from the Nazis. Maybe this is the time they get caught!

(Bonus trivia: I acted in the stage version of this musical, too, as Fritz--the singing son that does NOT dance with Maria but does belt out a high G in "So Long, Farewell.")

#1 - The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

Okay, I'm a geek. Gotta be true to self.

Return of the King received eleven Academy nominations and it won every one, including Best Picture. The recognition was well deserved, three years in the making for the complete trilogy of films.

And that's why it's on my list, too. Peter Jackson's masterpiece rivals only the original Star Wars trio for best movie epic ever. (I told you I'm a geek.)

My next MUST-see movie

2011-01-11T20:36:00.000-08:00

Here it is . . . just a glimpse . . .

Probably not in the U.S. for another couple of years :(

So until then check out one of director Makoto Shinkai's other great tearjerkers . . . like his first gem--created all with a Mac computer!

Christmas Letter 2010

2010-12-11T12:51:00.000-08:00

In lieu of an actual letter to go with our Christmas cards, this year we're going GREEN.

That's right, below is a brand spankin' new digital format. Think of it as Christmas Letter 2.0.

Actually, think of it as 2010--The Year in Pictures . . .

January

Laura and Danny with our neighbor Makayla at Pizza Hut to celebrate Makayla's baptism! (Danny did the dunking, God did the saving.)

March

Makayla with Laura and Laura's friend Roxanne on a visit to Florida. Danny presented at a conference in Orlando, part of his teacher education work at Wichita State University. Laura and Makayla came along to visit Laura's friends and Mickey Mouse.

*Makayla's flower headgear were handcrafted creations by Laura. (Danny's creative work can be found HERE and HERE.)

April

Danny's parents on the "front steps" of their house outside O'Neill, NE. The family home for 35+ years burned down after a water heater malfunction. Thankfully, everyone is safe and most of the photo albums were rescued, as well as the tulips.

May

"Babysitting" nephews Josh and Nic with the help of Nintendo.

May

Laura and the newest addition to our home--puppy Harper! She joined Scout and Boo and enjoyed (?) her first bath in the kitchen sink on her arrival from the Humane Society. (She's taller and louder now--Harper, not Laura.)

May

Danny and Josh with an Imperial Scout Trooper before the Star Wars In Concert show. (Who said Rebel scum can't be classy?)

May (busy month)

Laura and niece Kylie catching up during a visit to Laura's parents in Missouri.

July

Laura and niece Addy on another visit to Missouri, this time for July 4th and a concert with fireworks.

With Laura's family before the show. (We're the ones wearing red, white, and blue.)

September

Laura posing with her "wheels" after her third surgery resulting from last summer's car accident. (The scooter was much better than crutches or a wheel chair, and she even let Danny take it for a joyride from time to time.)

October

Danny resting with his parents after helping them move into their NEW house in Newton. (Furniture is sparse but still growing!)

October

Danny and his Little Brother Jacob doing a science demonstration for the BBBS Halloween Party. (Jacob's next lesson is the mad scientist "bwah-ha-ha" laugh.)

October (another busy month)

With Danny's family in Nebraska to celebrate his Grandma Frida's 90th birthday! (Where's Waldo?)

November

Laura with niece Addy and the quilt Laura made to celebrate Addy's adoption.

December

At home during the holidays--Merry Christmas! (And a Happy Antique Sepia.)

Self-Photography Work #11a-e

2010-11-27T16:09:00.000-08:00

Here's a special five-parter in my Self-Photography collection . . .

Self-Photograph #11a-e: "Grading Astronomy Homework"

- Spring, 1999

A Saturday tradition of mine this semester was checking Astronomy 101 homework papers. I was an undergraduate teaching aid for a couple of the professors. One of the professors actually assigned weekly homework to his students and needed someone to check it, since the class didn’t have a recitation hour.

Well, this particular Saturday I felt like I was going insane. The homework was a two paper assignment. Plus there were 200+ (!!!) students in this class. When I finished checking, I also had to alphabetize the papers. So as I checked them, I’d throw the papers in the general area for the students’ last names. This weekend, my checking took 8 hours!!! Around three-fourths the way through, it got to me.

11a & b: Here I am, thoughtfully correcting papers.

11c: Uh-oh. Homeworks are starting to get restless . . .

11d: Yikes! Looks like they're getting the upper hand!

11e: Da-Dum! But Danny is triumphant!

I think some students were surprised to get their homework back with footprints on it.

If you hadn’t noticed, I cheated on this self-photography sequence. I used the auto-timer on my camera. Hey! I created this art form. Besides, like all true artists, once you establish the rules, you break them!

YouTubesday! - World's Smallest Cannon

2010-10-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

Probably not legal, but pretty neat!

Joke of the Week (year?)

2010-10-12T21:34:00.000-07:00

Here's a good one I got from my 7-year-old nephew:

What do you call a platypus at the North Pole?

Lost.

The Curse of Ka-Zar

2010-07-29T19:58:00.000-07:00

The Curse of Ka-Zar the Savage

G.I. Joe comics is how I got started with funny books, and X-Men comics got me from high school to married life (including college, graduate school, and a Ph.D.). But my #1 favorite comic book of all time has to be the short run of Ka-Zar from Marvel Comics (1997-1998) by writer Mark Waid and peniciller Andy Kubert. Ka-Zar (pronounced “kay-czar”) was a little known Tarzan-ish character in the Marvel Universe, living in the prehistoric Savage Land lost somewhere in Antarctica.

But there’s this problem with Ka-Zar, you see. Sort of like a curse. I realize that now as I sit on the sofa with my foot propped up and my pinky toe on ice.

Ka-Zar (volume 3) by Waid and Kubert was a brief 14-issue series, followed by a forgettable half year or so of the title written by another writer and a few other artists.

[=Comic fan boy rant alert=]

What Marvel should have done was treat Waid and Kubert’s run as a stand-alone 14-issue mini-series. This title was SUPER classic with some of the most fantastic art I’ve ever seen—dinosaurs, saber-toothed cat, jungle tribes, cityscapes, and more. And the story’s great—a young married guy struggling to find his place in a technologically advancing world, and fight bad guys, too—Rhino the villain, Thanos, High Evolutionary, and some guy named Gregor who was Kraven the Hunter’s teacher, so you know he was a bad dude.

Even in its short run, Waid and Kubert’s Ka-Zar left a legacy that still lingers in my comic fan boy’s heart. Unfortunately, the comic has also created a string of curse-like encounters that make me suspicious of something strange, and I’m not talking about the Savage Land.

The first unfortunate circumstance from this comic book is that it took my favorite artist—Andy Kubert—off of my favorite comic book title—X-Men. This comic was the adjectiveless X-Men (as opposed to the sister title Uncanny X-Men), and it featured more of my favorite characters in the mutant group—Cyclops (the serious, hardworking leader—my kind of guy), Beast, Gambit, babes Rogue and Psylocke, and Wolverine (the best at what he does). But I can’t complain too much. A few years earlier, Artist Andy Kubert had replaced my other favorite artist (superstar Jim Lee) and Kubert himself was replaced (after a few stand-ins) by up and coming Carlos Pacheco. That trio makes up a majority of my top 5 artists of all time.

Comic book geekiness done for now. So here’s where the really creepy things come up.

I was in college at University of Nebraska in Lincoln. Back then, I was a super comic book geek. I delighted at the weekends, not because of a few days without class, but because on Saturdays I could drive out to the comic book shop by the mall and check out the latest comic books coming out that week. (Later on, I learned that comics are released on Wednesdays, so I started stopping by the comic book shops on hump day; one store even gave out free bags and boards for your comics on Wednesdays—bonus!)

Anywho, I was geeked up on this particular Saturday to pick up issue #2 of this new Ka-Zar series. The first issue had exceeded my already Jurassic-sized expectations and I was super-stoked for the sophomore effort. It was even the special “second issue/second cover” version of the comic, part of Marvel Comics’ schemes back then.

So after I picked up the comic at the store, I threw it in my car passenger seat with all my other goodies of that week, then headed back to campus for some fun lovin’ comic readin’. Unfortunately, I couldn’t control my curiosity, pulled out the comic book, and—I hate to admit this, looked it over WHILE I was driving. (Forget texting while driving.) I’ll admit, I wasn’t actually reading the comic. I was just enjoying the fine alternative cover and, okay, maybe I was glancing at the first page.

Well, even though it was a glance, it was enough to through off my judgment of time and space while driving. I looked up to see the car in front of me braking to a stop at one of those unpredictable pedestrian-controlled mid-street stoplights. Even with just a second or so of relapse in my looking at the road, I misjudged my speed and ever so softly bumped into the car in front of me. Very softly.

It was totally my fault. All I could do was grimace as the passenger in the car glared back at me. It all happened so fast I didn’t know what to do. There was no screech of tires, squealing breaks, crunching metal or anything. The car in front looked perfectly fine, and so did mine. That’s what bumpers are for, right? For us distracted comic book readers, right? No? Okay.

Being inexperienced in what you do after such an event, I continued on once the light turned green and turned left on my journey back to campus. The car in front turned right into a parking lot. And I will always wonder if they did so to stop, get out, check damage, and swap insurance info if need be. Problem was, I was already going the other way, fuming at myself, feeling sheepish, and wondering if I was supposed to stop and see if the folks were okay. They were okay, right? No big deal. Just a little tap. From an irresponsible college student. (Should’ve probably included this in my apologies chapter I’m writing up.)

So I don’t know what happened to the other car. I assume all was okay. No cops showed up at my door in the week to come. And no one put a ticket on my car, although after one weekend that year, someone DID take a baseball bat to my side-view mirror. I’m chalking that one up to a drunk frat boy.

As for me? I went back to campus that day, checked my car’s front bumper (no damage), and went upstairs to read my comic book. If comics are the truest form of escapism, I was escaping mighty fine that day, enjoying my favorite comic book and ignoring the nagging thoughts in my head about being a terrible driver.

A few months later in the summer, my sister asked me to house- and cat-sit for her, as she was out of town on a trip. She lived an hour east of O’Neill, where I stayed with my parents in the summer between college school years. (Free rent!)

I told my sister, “Sure I’ll do it.”

It was the summer. I had nothing better to do except work and make some money. And I liked my sister’s cats. They were from my parents’ crew of outside cats and now lived a posh lifestyle indoors. Very refined.

As an added bonus to my task, my sister’s house was in Tilden, a town only 30 minutes away from Norfolk, northeast Nebraska’s very own metro center. Norfolk had no comic book shop, but it did have a Hastings movie/book store that sold comics. Cha-ching!

Ka-Zar #4 was coming out that month and there was no way I could find it in O’Neill. So as I philanthropically drove to my sister’s house to check on the cats, house, and mail, I envisioned issue #4 of my favorite comic book in my hungry hands.

I went to my sister’s house first—did the duty, cleaned cat doody, fed the cats, etc. Then I put them back and went to Mecca—the comic book rack at Hastings. There was issue #4 with the cool Spider-Man-esque cover of hero Ka-Zar swinging on a vine between new York city skyscrapers, complete with the tagline, “It’s your friendly neighborhood . . .Savage Man?!” Utter awesomeness.

The inside of the comic was good too, as Ka-Zar leaves his jungle home in the Savage Land to travel to NYC and track down his villainous half-brother, the Plunderer.

My strength of will was sturdier then, just two months after the bumper bump in Lincoln. I didn’t read the comic (or even open it) on the 90-minute drive back to my parents’ house. But I’m sure I know the first thing I did when I got home. After using the bathroom of course.

So was the comic good enough to be worth a three-hour round trip to the nearest book store? You bet. Babysitting the cats just gave me a logical excuse to do it.

Is something wrong with me? No, maybe it’s just the lure of an excellent comic book.

Fast-forward ten-plus years. I’m married, living in Kansas, only regularly reading two comic titles a month (Captain America and X-Factor, if you’re keeping track).

My parents’ house burns down. (More on that elsewhere and in the future.)

Mom had always been telling us kids that once we got our own place, she’d dump all our toys and junk back on us. Well, years pass, apartment buildings have no storage, and our new house doesn’t have much more, either. My wife asked me if I’m upset at the tragic fire. No lives lost, and most photo albums saved, so it could have been a lot worse. Plus, now that I’ve been away from home for over a decade, home has sort of a different feeling to it.

But I did leave some of my comics at my parents’ house. And wouldn’t you know it, Mom and Dad actually dug through the rubble and found over 200 comic books. Most were water damaged and wrinkly, but good enough to read, despite their stench of charbroiled dirt. Mom and Dad pulled them all out of their bags and boards, spread them out in a garage and let them air dry. Cleaning and sorting a son’s comics—that’s the deepest kind of parental love you can find on this planet, aside from what you see in March of the Penguins.

Here’s the weird thing. I’ve searched through these recovered comics and can’t find any Ka-Zar, not even the crappy ones after Mark Waid and Andy Kubert left the title. But I do find comic books that I bought and stored the same months as Ka-Zar, including the Pacheco-drawn X-Men issues (excellent!) and Kurt Busiek and Mark Bagley’s Thunderbolts series. (The latter is also highly recommended for its twist-and-turn plots and Marvel lore goodness.) But Ka-Zar is nowhere to be seen (or smelled, at this point).

My first thought is maybe since I loved and fondly remembered this series so much, I had pulled it out of the comic storage boxes a few years back and put them in a different box somewhere else. I checked with my boxes here in Kansas, but no cigar.

Or maybe my parents did find those Ka-Zar comics and figured those issues were too far gone and damaged. Was the Savage Land not salvageable? No, Mom and Dad didn’t recall seeing any Ka-Zar issues.

(Or maybe my Mom didn’t approve of Ka-Zar’s wife Shanna the She-Devil in her leather bikini that rivaled Slave Princess Leia. Mom didn’t mention anything, and she knows I’m a happily married man and will always stay that way. Wife knows that too.)

Alas, it seemed my precious Ka-Zar issues were lost to the burning flames forever.

And even worse, despite the greatness of this series, Waid and Kubert’s Ka-Zar came out before Marvel comics started their aggressive paperback trade business. That was when bigwigs at Marvel pretty much mandated that all comic book stories consist of longer 5-6 issue story arcs that can easily be repackaged and reprinted as a book-ish graphic novel they can sell at book stores. (Hence the newly coined phrase, “wait for the trade,” from fan boys everywhere regarding comic books that are good, but not that good to burst into a comic book store once a month and pay the monthly cover price.) Come on Marvel, get this Ka-Zar series into a book!

[=Belated comic fan boy rant alert part two=]

So about three months after the fire and after I conceded that these awesome comic books were long gone, I realized that in this day and age of eBay, nothing is ever truly gone (at least, not until the end of times).

So I hopped on the Internet, and in no time flat found that Ka-Zar is alive and well in the annals of Buy It Now! listings. About five bucks an issue, counting shipping and handling. Not too bad, since most new comics these days go for the same price.

Then I found an even better deal at another website—www.newkadia.com. Sahweet!

I quickly added them all to my cart and ran upstairs to get my wallet and credit card. Then on my trip downstairs, I tripped. I slipped on the slick carpeted steps and surfed down the rest of the step stairwell, yanking down two picture frames along the way.

Not fun. The picture frames survived—no broken glass. But it sure felt like my left pinky toe was broken. Or fractured at lest. I slept through the night with some ice, and then this morning my wife convinced me to go to the hospital for X-rays. (This little piggy went “Wee wee wee!” all the way to the nearest urgent care facility.)

The wife has had three surgeries in the last year (car accident, gall bladder), so she’s tight with these people.

The X-rays come back with nothing conclusive about any broken pinky toe bones. But even if there were, the physician’s assistant tells us that the treatment is the same. (My wife told me the same thing that morning—she’s a former nurse.) But even so, the X-ray results were helpful to know how much I should expect the healing process to take. (With a fracture, it would have been a couple of months; with no fracture—yay!—the P.A. said expect soreness for a couple of weeks.)

They taped me up and sent me on my way. So it looks like I’ll be wearing sandals to church on Sunday, a perfect way to display a puffy maroon, purple, and black appendage.

On our way out the door (hobbling), the P.A. asks me what I did for a living.

With a cautious breath, I say, “Professor, I teach science teachers.”

“Oh, so you must be really smart,” she says.

“No,” I answer, “just a nerd.”

And so as I wait for my new (used) Ka-Zar issues to arrive in the mail in the next week, I openly admit to my nerdiness/geekitude. At least I won’t be driving or having to go up/down stairs to get these comics. I can just wait for the mailman to make a friendly delivery to my front porch.

This time, I’ll be prepared for any Ka-Zar curse that lingers with this second batch. I’ll have plenty of Band-Aids at my side while I use scissors to cut open the package.

Joke of the Week

2010-07-27T19:29:00.001-07:00

Back from its summer break:

Joke of the Week!

Q: Why do gorillas have such big nostrils?

A: Because they have such big fingers!

Top 5 X-Factor Covers

2010-07-09T07:04:00.000-07:00

The latest issue of X-Factor has one of the BEST comic book covers I've seen this year. Check it out: (art by David Yardin)

Like all great comic book covers, this image is eye-catching (danger and humor, in this case), tells part of a story, and is pretty enough to make into a poster.

For those of you uninformed, X-Factor is a comic branching out of the X-Men series. But unlike the main X-Men titles, X-Factor features some of the B-List heroes. This actually makes the title BETTER, because creators have more freedom to mess with these lesser-known characters. The stakes are higher and story lines unexpected, because you never know what may happen.

Anyway, for this edition of Top 5 Fridays, here are my

Top 5 X-Factor Covers

#5 - X-Factor (vol. 1) #71

(Larry Stroman, penciller)

This issue kicks off the second major group of X-Factor, bringing in the era of B-Listers. The ragtag bunch receives appropriate treatment through Larry Stroman's dizzying art, as first revealed in this cover.

#4 - X-Factor (vol. 1) #17

(Walter Simonson, penciller)

Of course, this title began its original run featuring the original five X-Men characters. (Sad to say, I missed this five-year stretch of stories.) But this cover is a favorite as it reminds me of some of the old G.I. Joe issues of the 1980s - high adventure, with Beast and Cyclops under attack and hanging from a helicopter. Riveting!

#3 - X-Factor (vol. 2) #1

(Ryan Sook, penciller)

This is the modern interpretation of the team. Rather than being a government sponsored mutant team, X-Factor becomes a noir-ish detective agency for mutants and super-heroes. Great set up, thanks to the Madrox mini-series (highly recommended!) and Ryan Sook's art. Too bad Mr. Sook didn't last a year on the title.

#2 - X-Factor (vol. 1) #130

(Jeff Matsuda, penciller)

Here's an example of a cover that got me to buy the comic. I hadn't been reading X-Factor for a while, mostly due to the change in cast. But I got drawn in by this dramatic image (excellent coloring) of Mystique holding smoldering rifle and the burnt image of villain Graydon Creed (her son!).

This was a big build-up--mutant hater Creed was running for president or something, mutant villain Mystique felt driven to knock him off, and the X-Factor team had to play damage control to avoid major repercussions. Or something like that. It sounded good, but the actual execution didn't pan out as well. (And the interior art was okay, by up and coming Jeff Matsuda, who later went on to work on the WB! The Batman Saturday morning cartoon.)

#1 - X-Factor (vol. 2) #18

(Pablo Raimondi, penciller)

The modern rendition of X-Factor here again, by AMAZING artist Pablo Raimondi. Raimondi, like Ryan Sook, didn't last long on the series; but what he did produce is some of the BEST comic book art in the last 10 years. Raimondi's detailed art first wowed me in his Madrox mini-series, and it continues with his X-Factor run--highlighting multiple characters and expressions, with both moving and hilarious results.

This cover encapsulates the nature of the X-Factor Investigations team, with the odd bunch of mutants overwhelmed by leader Jamie Madrox's multiple duplicates. Look closely at each "dupe" and notice how their individual personalities shine through--one of the quirks of Madrox (the Multiple Man)'s powers.

Quirky heroes. Quirky stories (thanks, Peter David!).

Great comic. And some great covers.

Self-Photography - Works #9 & 10

2010-07-03T12:39:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's been a while. (Sorry for the wait.) But here's a few more entries in my Self-Photography Collection. Enjoy!

Self-Photograph #9: “Cross-bedding in New Mexico”

– December, 1998

Our science methods class took a road trip that December to the National Science Teachers’ Convention in Albuquerque, New Mexico. On our free day, three of us went to Sandia Heights right outside of town. We rode the gondola tram up to the mountains (from Albuquerque about 5,000 feet above sea level to about 11,000 feet in only 15 minutes!). Up there, we could hike on trails and look through the visitor center. There were even ski slopes there too.

This is a self-photo of me (duh!) and the cross-bedding visible in the bluff behind me (thanks, geology class!).

Self-Photograph #10 – December, 1998

This is called “Average College Student.” It typifies what the ordinary student at UNL looks like.

I took this self-photo right by my car (’82 Buick Century – a smooth ride!) when I was loading to go home for Christmas break. My mom loves this photo and has it framed at home with all of our family photos.

Test - SFSH

2010-05-10T21:13:00.001-07:00

StickFigure SuperHeroes . . . this is a TEST . . . eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

(Please click on comic to enlarge.)

Stay tuned, gentle readers!

UPDATE:

StickFigure SuperHeroes NOW published on-line at http://stickfiguresuperheroes.weebly.com.

Check it out!

YouTubesday - Trigun Movie!

2010-04-06T10:27:00.000-07:00

Sure, you got Iron Man 2, The A-Team, Tron and such coming out soon.

But here's the one movie I can't wait to see . . .

Love and Peace!!!

Fun with the whole family

2010-03-27T10:59:00.001-07:00

Yep, this is how I spend my weeknights . . .

A Drug Deal Gone Bad—My Brush with the Law

2010-03-19T14:19:00.000-07:00

Last night could have been the last time I ever visited Grandma’s house. She moved to assisted living over the winter and we planned to go help clean out the house so it could sell. But the weather forecast showed snow and traveling to Nebraska didn’t seem like a safe idea.

So instead, my wife Laura and I hung out at home with our eight-year-old neighbor girl and played a few rounds of UNO. (I won once.) About nine o’clock, it was time to walk Makayla home to her grandma’s house behind ours. The night was dark but mild, so Laura went with me. We figured we could take our dog Scout, too, for one last jaunt before bed.

Should we bring the leash? Nah, we’re just going down the sidewalk along our backyard fence. We’ll be fine. Scout’s a shy dog and listens well. The only thing that sets him off is a stranger invading his territory, and we didn’t figure there’d be much activity this time of night.

As we stepped outside, we heard a loud rumbling engine. I grabbed Scout’s collar and Laura put her hand on Makayla’s shoulder. Seconds later, a junky S-10 pickup screeched around our corner street and zoomed out of the neighborhood. The driver was a strange looking fellow—hairy and harried, from what we could tell by his glowing cab lights. But we didn’t give it much thought. Just another punk who should learn to respect his elders and traffic laws.

On our way down the sidewalk, we noticed a couple of tall lanky fellows strolling along the street towards us. Scout gave them no grief (good boy!), probably because they were on the opposite side of the street and we were further away from our house.

We made it to Makayla’s grandma’s house and Laura went inside to talk about weekend plans—something to do with a Princess and the Frog movie night at our house. Meanwhile, Scout and I hung around outside in the increasingly chilly night air, sniffing about the yard and admiring the constellation Orion (guess who did which).

I noticed the two dudes passing by had walked into the house across from ours. A few minutes later, another junky pickup—a different one than the first—rumbled up to this house and honked. The two guys came out and crammed into the truck, which then chugged away.

No big deal. Since last fall, that rental home has been the site of much foot traffic and many weird folks. We’re not quite sure who actually lives there, with all the coming and going. And a lot of hanging out—loitering, really. Their idea of a good time is tossing rope over the tree branches and stringing up makeshift swings. Right now, there’s a office chair seat dangling four feet off the ground. Laura and I are pretty sure there’s some drug use involved.

Laura said “good night” to Makayla and her grandma and we started back toward home. Halfway down the sidewalk, I noticed a police SUV make a sudden stop in front of our house. That’s when the excitement began.

The policeman steps out and from across the yard I hear him say into his collar radio, “I got two suspects.” Next thing I know, he points a gun at us and yells, “Show me your hands!”

Laura almost laughs but we both quickly abide and raise our arms. I think I said something to the effect of, “Whoa! Okay, okay.”

“Call off your dog!”

Unfortunately, Scout hasn’t seen a single episode of Cops. Instead of raising his innocent paws, our dog runs straight toward the policeman and barks off his territory. What can I say? Scout is a softy, but he’s also a skittish Australian Shepherd who protects his home from strangers, gun or no gun.

I have to commend the policeman for being calm under pressure. If he had been trigger-happy or cynophobic (a fear of dogs—look it up), I’m sure the cop could have blown my dog away. (Scout has a record, by the way, but that’s another story.)

Thankfully, I yell at Scout and he scurries back to me, still barking. Still with one hand raised, I manage to corral my dog and snatch his collar. Laura approaches with me and, with a cool head, explains we live right here and why we’re outside.

I now get a better look at the cop’s gun and see it’s no ordinary pistol. It’s a ginormous semi-automatic rifle—the kind of machine gun I coveted during my childhood days playing G.I. Joe. Over my growling dog, I yammer something that basically repeats what my wife just said, except with more gibberish.

The policeman lowers his rifle and tells us there’s a report of someone in our neighborhood carrying a gun. With more half-eloquence, I relay details about the two pickups in under half a minute. The cop grunts and tells us to go inside our house.

We followed those orders faster than his first ones.

Back safe inside our locked home, Laura and I watched through our dining room windows for any activity. Not much, except for a policeman talking with our tree swing neighbors for a half hour. Another cop was walking around their house and yard, no doubt having to sidestep the outdoor collection of pop bottle crates. Not sure what was going on, but it was comforting to know the police are wary of those weirdoes, too.

Instead of going to bed like we had planned post-UNO, I told Laura, “I need a lot of chocolate.”

Laura had called 911 to report what we had witnessed, as the clarity of her words would probably help a lot more than mine. After snack, the police called us back, explaining why they preferred a phone conversation over a house visit: they didn’t want any of our neighbors to think we were snitching on them.

Over the phone, I tried to do a “just the facts” routine, but I think the cops already knew everything I told them. The officer described how there had been an apparent “drug deal gone bad” down the block, as someone had brought along a shotgun. It wasn’t the weirdoes across the street, so it must have been the crazy punk in the first pickup. Then the policeman explained they had visited our tree swing neighbors due to an “ancillary report”—whatever that meant.

I mentioned how the tree swingers often act strange, and it gets worse when the weather warms up. The cop said, “Yeah, that’s when our business picks up, too.”

He thanked us both, wishing there were more neighbors like us who watched out for our neighborhood. I finished with an attempted cool but rather lame, “Just let us know what we can do.”

Tomorrow is the first day of spring. Thankfully, Kansas is supposed to have a snowstorm over the weekend. Maybe that’ll chill things down.

When I taught high school, some students jokingly gave me the hero name “IceBerg.” If I were a super-hero, I’d like to have ice powers—control the weather and make it eternally cold, freezing freaks from dubious deeds. Instead, last night my hero moniker was more like Professor Nearly-Pees-His-Pants, Doctor Don’t-Make-Any-Sudden-Moves, or Sleeps-with-the-Lights-On Lad.

Laura has already looked up on-line info about starting a Neighborhood Watch group. Most of our neighbors are nice. It’s only been a year since we moved here, and we’re already friends with several households. But all it takes is a few drifters and druggies to drag down the whole block.

Last night as the adrenaline waned, I told Laura I’m ready to move out as soon as we can. But that’s not very plausible or honorable. We’ve shared a lot of good experiences with our neighbors. I even baptized Makalya earlier this year. I don’t think God is done with us in our current community.

So maybe the hero thing to do is stick it out. Take a stand. Or at least put up a sign. That’s a good start. http://www.usaonwatch.org/

We’ll do more than watch. We’ll act, too. And next time we’ll bring our leash.

And to think, I would have missed out on all this excitement had I gone to Grandma’s.

YouTubesday - George Lucas Singin' in the Rain

2010-03-16T16:56:00.000-07:00

There's a new documentary coming out called "The People vs. George Lucas." Check it out here:

Until then, check out this disturbing "What if . . .?" scenario:

Force be with you!

JotW

2010-02-28T11:11:00.000-08:00

Joke of the Week time--double-sized special:

What happens when you play a country music song backwards?

You get your girl back, your house back, your job back, your dog back . . .

How many country western singers does it take to change a light bulb?

Five.

One to change it, and four to sing about how much they missed the old one.

Top 5 Friday - Pop/Rock Music

2010-02-26T11:14:00.000-08:00

This week's Top 5 list is

Top 5 Pop/Rock Music Bands.

By "Pop" and "Rock," I mean music that is fairly recent and radio-bound (rock and roll, pop, alternative, etc.). And by "Bands," I mean people that actually PLAY their own instruments.

#5 - The Cranberries

Best known for: Early 90s hits--"Dreams," "Linger," "Zombies"

Rock out to "Promises" (but ignore the weird video)

Mellow low to "Ode to My Family"

#4 - The Hives

Best known for: Mid-2000s hit--"Hate to Say I Told You So" (also on Spider-Man Movie Soundtrack) as well as songs used in recent Nike ads and movie trailers

Rock out to "Die Alright"

Not too much mellow about The Hives, so rock again to "Hey Little World"

#3 - Franz Ferdinand

Best known for: Mid-2000s hit--"Take Me Out"

Punk out to "Do You Want To"

Break your heart to "Fade Together"

#2 - U2

Best known for: Being the most successful band on the planet.

Rock out to "All Because of You"

Express your codependency to "All I Want is You"

#1 - The Presidents of the United States of America

Best known for: Early 90s hits "Peaches" and "Lump" -- and Weird Al Yankovic's parody "Gump", seen here:

The Presidents of the U.S.A. also sang the opening song "Cleveland Rocks" for the Drew Carey Show.

As for The PUSA alone, rock out to the fun lovin' "Mach 5"

And learn about geothermal systems without poopin' your Pampers to "Volcano"

Okay, here's the sad part: I don't have the latest album from four of these bands--all but The Hives, and they're probably about to release a new CD soon. Time to catch up!

JotW

2010-02-04T07:26:00.000-08:00

Time for Joke of the Week.

This special edition is courtesy of my 2nd grader neighbor Makayla:

QUESTION:

Why did Danny get mad at the Walmart guy?

ANSWER:

Because the Walmart guy triped Danny and Danny said ow do that again. The Walmart guy said OK so he did it and when the Walmart guy triped him the Walmart guy punched him on purpose so Danny called the polise when the polise got there Danny told him and the poleise thought Danny started it and Danny did started it so he got urested for 800 years.

That's verbatim, folks, off of a Pizza Hut napkin.

God bless the children.

YouTubesday - OK Go's new video

2010-02-01T19:58:00.001-08:00

From OK Go, the band that brought us musical video treadmills . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJKythlXAIY

Sorry it's not embedded, but it's worth it to click the link.

Marching band and mud people musicians--and all in one take with one camera!

JotW

2010-01-25T21:09:00.000-08:00

No sophomore slump here. It's the second edition of

Joke of the Week:

Two cows are grazing in a pasture.

First cow asks, "So . . . whattaya think about that Mad Cow Disease?"

Second cow says, "What do I care? I'm a helicopter. Wheeeee!"

Top 5 Friday - Resolutions

2010-01-21T08:20:00.000-08:00

Time for a new feature at Cannonballs . . . Top 5 Fridays.

In this semi-regular segment, I'll list my top five . . . something. Today it's my

Top 5 New Year's Resolutions

2010 Edition

(Yes, yes, I know January is 2/3 finished. But overcoming procrastination isn't on my list, so there.)

#5 - Use Ebay.

Specifically, sell more rather than buy more. I've collected a lot of STUFF over the years, some precisely with the motive, "hey, I might be able to chuck this for a profit." After last year's economical apocalypse, it may not be the case anymore. But I still need to get rid of some of these temporary, worldly possessions. Might as well make some dough.

#4 - Fix toilet.

Honest. The wife's getting tired of switching the water on and off when we're not using the stool. Me too. Rather than waste a Mississippi of H2O every day, I guess I'd better fix it. (Or get someone professional to take a whack at it.)

#3 - Cash system.

Okay, Dave Ramsey, you're on. We'll use the cash system for some purchase categories. (Gotta keep that 3% cash back on gas purchases with my credit card.) But to help us save and spend more responsibility, we're going green. Just don't tell any muggers.

#2 - Read more.

Rather than sit on the couch at night and wonder why on Earth I'm watching brainless TV, I will now always have a book handy and engage my mind during downtime. I like children's books, particularly, since I can read an entire book in one sitting. Makes me feel like a genius!

#1 - Write more.

Yes, I do already write. But I should do it more. The internet is a worse distraction than the television. Gotta close Internet Explorer/Safari and use the mouse and keypad in a more productive manner. Write for work (research and articles). Write for fun (blogs!). And most importantly, write for my dreams (One Day, Harold, Paradigm Shift, American Otaku, Teatotalers, and more). Haven't heard of those novels? You will.

Check back in 6 months and see how we're doing. Keep me honest!

Joke of the Week!

2010-01-20T07:54:00.000-08:00

New feature, same humor. Time for

Joke of the Week

Two atoms are walking down the street.

First one stops and says, "I think I just lost an electron."

Second atom: "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Self-Photography - Works #4-8

2010-01-10T19:51:00.000-08:00

Self-Photograph #4: “Real Astronomy Research”
(Summer, 1998)

I took this one because I wanted some photos of me working at the Observatory that summer. I was going to (and did) use them in my student portfolio to show my experience with research and “real” science. I’m setting up the computer program attached to the telescope. Every night, we were recorded data from a quasar. We were just one research data collection site for a much bigger research project on this quasar.

You'll notice no telescope in the picture. That's because I'm in the tiny work room (closet) beside it. Most "professional" astronomers actually look at computers and spreadsheets more than they do through an actual telescope. It's the hobby astronomers who usually discover new stuff in the sky (Hale-Bopp Comet, for example), and that's why most of these objects are named after the hobbyists who find them.

Back to my adventures in professional (or academic) astronomy: Eventually, I had to ask a fellow student aide/volunteer to take some of me working with the big reflecting telescope. As it turns out, that student was Tina from my hometown O’Neill. Last I heard, she’s a graduate student at the University of Chicago studying physics and anatomy or some kind of combination like that. She’s very smart.

Self-Photograph #5: "Glasses and Might" (October, 1998)

In my dorm room. One advantage of having my own dorm room to myself (during my last college year), besides having a flexible "lights-out" time, is that the dorm room became my own private studio. Mom and Dad probably didn't expect all that $$ to get extra in return.

Self-Photograph #6: "Polo Might and Wisdom" (October, 1998)

Must have been a slow month. Me in my dorm room again. A double feature (“ooooh”).

Self-Photograph #7: "Nerf Stud" (October, 1998)

Slow month. Dorm room.

Me and my Nerf gun. I bought it on our UNL band trip to Kansas City. For our free time, we shopped around the downtown area. I had to get something to remember the trip and for fun on the bus, so the answer, of course, was “Nerf.” I used this when we stretched for the game that night (and ticked some people off). I also used it when I dressed up as a Man in Black for Halloween that year.

Notice in the top photo, you see the profile of the Nerf gun and the front of me. In the second photo, however, you see the front of the Nerf gun and my profile. There’s symbolism in this somewhere.

Self-Photograph #8: "Trumpet Skit" (October, 1998)

These two pictures are from the trumpet skit we did before the game that day (on Halloween against Texas and Ricky Williams. We lost. But my Dad went to the game and then afterwards, my parents, Cathlina, and I all went to “The Wizard of Oz on Ice” at the Pershing Auditorium. It was a fun time.).

For the skit, I was pretending to be one of the drum majors (Jeremy, a great guy – always positive and fun; that’s him with me in the bottom photo) who would take pictures of the band in the stands while he stood in front of us on the directing ladder. During the skit, I’d take pictures of the band in the band room watching us, then I ran out into the crowd and took some photos with me in them.

I guess October was just a busy month, too. And this was in the band room, not my dorm room.

More Self-Photography on its way! (Hopefully sooner than last time :')

YouTubesday - MegaMan 2 with Words

2009-12-08T13:22:00.000-08:00

It's YouTubesday!

Today's entry is another videogame special--my favoritest Nintendo game ever--MegaMan 2!! (Next gen consoles don't got nuthin' compared to 8-bit ingenuity.)

Thanks to brentalfloss for this gem of a video. We are eternally grateful for lyrics like "the MegaPoo has hit the fan" and "Blue and cyan, likes Chopin and Rodin, MegaMan."

Happy Halloween!

2009-10-30T08:56:00.001-07:00

May the gourd be with you!

YouTubesday - Super Mario Bros Race

2009-09-22T12:07:00.000-07:00

It's YouTubesday! Featured this week is two guys racing to win the Original Nintendo Super Mario Brothers. Don't think I ever completed this game that fast - even with all the secret warps.

Dan Band on Jay Leno

2009-09-20T20:55:00.001-07:00

The funniest thing I saw on TV this week.

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

Hint Fiction Contest - Everybody Try!

2009-08-12T19:56:00.000-07:00

Hey Everybody, there's a nifty new contest for a genre of storytelling called "Hint Fiction:"

Whatduheck's Hint Fiction?

I'm so glad you asked:

Hint Fiction (n) : a story of 25 words or less that suggests a larger, more complex story

That definition is from the following link: http://www.robertswartwood.com/?page_id=8

This website also provides the contest rules (deadline is August 31). Winners get published in a Norton Anthology. No fooling. On-line submission, too, so it's free to submit.

Go for it, gentle readers AND writers!

Happy Anniversary!

2009-07-21T06:40:00.000-07:00

Today is the 2-year anniversary of wedded bliss for my wife and me. In honor of this special occasion, I've provided a link to our Love Story. Read and enjoy (and try not to gag on the sweetness)!

http://www.eharmony.com/success/stories/long-distance/460

We were E-Harmony's 2007 Couple of the Year for Kansas. Got a trophy and everything. Not bad, considering we got married in Missouri.

Love you, Sweetie!

Thrifty Thursday - Free Stuff

2009-07-16T15:51:00.000-07:00

Howdy, consumer comrades! It’s time for THRIFTY THURSDAY. Cha-ching!

In honor of the total meltdown of America’s economy, I’m sharing some sound financial advice. What follows is my list of objects one should NEVER have to purchase again in his or her lifetime.

Take the money you save by NOT buying these items and save for your children’s college education. It's never too soon (or too late).

1. Pen/Pencil.
It’s the least you should get for taking out a $100,000 loan from the bank.

2. Travel size shampoo/conditioner/bar soap/lotion/shower cap/shoe polish.
Thanks, Holiday Inn Express! I’m the reason you have to up your prices to counteract missing toiletries. Still love those cinnamon rolls, though.

3. T-shirt.
Sure, I’ll wear this free shirt in exchange for advertising your 17th Annual Bike-Riding Brownie-Eating Festival. Do you have it in any color besides chartreuse?

4. Magazine/Newspaper.
Why buy a paper publication when you can read nearly all the content on-line and usually much sooner?

5. Satellite/Cable TV.
See #4 above. Sure, there’s always http://www.youtube.com/, but my =legal= favorites are http://www.colbernation.com/, www.animenewsnetwork.com/video/anime, and http://www.hulu.com/. Go ahead, Alec Baldwin. Suck my brain.

6. Calculator.
How much did this contraption cost thirty years ago? And it didn’t even have a square-root button. Accountants and bankers love to give out these devices, just to show you they don't need them.

7. Flash Drive.
The free calculator of the 21st century. Just don’t expect it to work after six months. Back up your back-ups.

8. Ruler.
I can’t quite see the connection between the metric system and your filtered drinking water service, but I’ll take it anyway—the ruler, not your business. Call me when I actually own an office.

9. Notepad.
I forgot to swipe it out of the Holiday Inn. Good thing I’m staying at this Super 8. I’ll carry this pad around and pretend to be a gumshoe private eye. Who needs blackberry?

10. Advice.
Here it is (free of charge)--Don’t buy any of this stuff. Return to your hunter/gatherer roots and scavenge these articles whenever you have an opportune moment. You never know when you’ll need another shower cap.

So what other items have you found free of charge? Let us know in your comments below—no hidden fees!

Five Reasons--Wichita Wingnuts

2009-05-30T12:12:00.000-07:00

Five Reasons why the Wichita Wingnuts of the National Baseball Congress has the GREATEST team name ever:

1. Alliteration—Wichita Wingnuts. It rolls off the tongue. All great teams need alliteration: The Philadelphia Phillies, The Los Angeles Lakers, The—um—Manitoba Moose.

2. Multiple Mascots—Every excellent team these days has more than one mascot. First, we have the actual Wichita Wingnut, found on ball-caps, T-shirts and various logo-ized merchandise.

Isn’t it soooo cute? It’s a baseball wearing a wingnut like a little beanie cap. Awwwww. And it looks so angry, too—maybe the wingnut is screwed on a little too tight.

If beanie-wearing fuming baseballs aren’t your thing, then you might enjoy the second Wichita Wingnut mascot—the child-friendly Spinner. How’s that for adorable? (Just ignore those chicks draped on each arm—those are the Diamond Doll dance girls. Ugh.)

3. More mascots!—If those two don’t float your boat, check out all these other sorts of characters you’ll see at the ballpark. Crazy!

4. Hometown Connection—As Wichita is the “Air Capital of the World” (since the Kansas landscape’s pretty darn boring), the Wingnuts take their namesake from the aviation industry in the surrounding area—at least as long as those companies stay afloat.

For those of you not in the know, a “wing nut” or “wingnut” is a steel nut having two flat, widely projecting pieces such as it can be readily tightened with the thumb and forefinger. Now, I don’t know if wingnuts are used all that extensively in the manufacturing of airplanes anymore—not since the days of Orville and Wilbur, maybe—but I do know you need a lot of steel to hold those birds together. And since jets have wings, the name is all that more appropriate. Wichita Wingnuts. Sounds a lot better than Wichita Butterfly Nuts or Wichita Thumbnuts.

5. Clever Play on Words—Go Nuts! Between every inning, the MC tells us to yell that one the count of three. Ready? Try it . . . one, two, three . . .

GO NUTS!!

Wasn’t that fun? And, of course, the whole enjoyment of said rally cry is the duplicity of its meaning—1) Yes, we are supporting and rooting for you, Wingnut baseball players; and 2) WeEHAAA!! Let’s go crazy! WhooowoOOH!

Naturally, the fans walk around in T-shirts claiming membership in the “Nut House.” I didn’t see any particular zone in the stadium where these “Nut Housers” congregated, but I like the idea. Let’s put all the most obnoxious fans in one section—kind of like a mosh pit. Works at the college level—and most of those fans are underage.

Unfortunately, there already is a Nut House in Wichita. It’s the Nifty Nut House, a wonderful store that sells candy and nuts. Best in town. Check it out: http://www.niftynuthouse.com/. Maybe the Wingnuts and the Nifty Nut House can do some sort of joint marketing. I can already see free peanuts and sunflower seeds for all the players. Maybe the fans, too? I’ll take some dark chocolate covered Brazil nuts. They’re good for the prostate.

One drawback (?) of such nut nonsense is some people are bound to snicker at the name and revert to their middle-school mindset. (Nuts. Kee-hee.) Grow up. But maybe that’s what the PR people like. Beats me.

I DO know that if they ever need another promo, the Wingnuts should milk the first part of their name. Give out free Buffalo wings for each home run. Have some sort of wing-flapping cheer to go along with “Go Nuts!”

Go wild on this. Call me, people. I’ve got tons of ideas.

So there you have it. Wichita Wingnuts. Fun minor league distraction. Brilliant team mascot and marketing. Don’t even have to like baseball.

Star Trek Ears

2009-05-14T08:23:00.000-07:00

In honor of the revived Star Trek movie franchise, I've posted a brief essay below. I wrote this over ten years ago, and recently revised it for everyone's viewing. Enjoy!

==============================

Here’s one for all you fans of psychology, psychiatry, cinematography, and/or otology (look up that last one):

When I was about six years old or so, my dad took my older brother Greg and me to a movie in the one theater in town. We saw the sci-fi flick (or as they sometime call them, “space opera”) Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. For younger readers, this was the original Kirk/Spock (Shatner/Nimoy) era of Star Trek, way before Trekkies and non-Trekkies alike would ever believe a bald man could captain the USS Enterprise.

Anyway, the aforementioned Khan ("Khaaaaaaaan!") was a bad-dude super-human from 300 years in the future’s past, as revealed in his first Star Trek appearance 20 years prior in one of the original television episodes. It all had to do with Khan being a criminal awoken from a cryogenically-frozen sleep, and some other techno-jumbo about which I had no clue. All I knew was Khan was the bad guy. And this was no Fantasy Island.

= ?

Back to the movie. In one scene, Khan and his bad-guy flunkies capture a couple of Starfleet crewmembers. (You know how it goes: the never-ending supply of nameless victims in Star Trek stories, although I believe one of these two was Mr. Chekov—poor Russian squirt.) So now, Khan’s got his human prisoners and wants to do something with them.

"Hmmm . . .” he broods, “It is time for me to do something evil.”

Naturally, Khan goes and gets a hold of some slimy finger-sized scorpion/eel type-creatures. These parasitic beasties take over their hosts’ minds. That’s not bad. But here’s what’s bad. They get to the victims’ brains by burrowing through their EARS! Eeuuwww!!

Granted, I’m sure we all have seen plenty of nasty stuff. However, for this six-year-old sitting in that cushy theater seat, the scenario scarred me for life. I’m talking major psychological damage here. Both Greg and I (and Dad, too, come to think of it) were pretty much grossed out for the rest of the movie.

That night when I went to bed, I feared deeply for my ears. I had to do something to protect their well-being. I’ve never been one to pull the covers over my head. I always feel like I’m going to suffocate under the heavy blankets. So I came up with a much more efficient, yet effective technique. I wrapped the spread up just barely over my ears, leaving my nose to have free access to open air.

Today, of course, I notice some flaws in this strategy. My nose, mouth, and eyes were utterly defenseless. The bad guys could do whatever they wanted with them. But not the ears. They were key.

In the thousands of nights to come in my childhood, I continued to get in the ear flap position before I would feel completely safe to slumber off into dreamland. I’m 22 years old and I still do this at night. I truly can’t get comfortable unless I’ve got the ears covered and safe from any nighttime invaders. And this all started from watching that creepy movie. Thanks, Gene Roddenberry. (I'd spit on your ashes, if they weren't orbiting Earth in outer space.)

Anyway, that’s just my own analysis of my condition. In all these years since, I’ve never again viewed that scene in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. I wonder if the burrowing brain suckers really are that disgusting.

Better be safe and not find out. I’d rather not bring back any post-revulsion shock still buried deep within my consciousness.

If anybody’s out there with a license to handle such idiosyncrasies, give me a call. You could get a couple of counseling sessions out of me. I welcome your diagnosis. Dig into my brain.

Just don’t mess with the ears.

==============================

Post Script: Ten years after first writing this essay, I can proudly say I no longer require blankets over my ears in order to sleep peacefully. Instead, I insert a mouth guard to avoid grinding my teeth. I'll leave that story for another day . . .

Cannonballs - The Origin Story

2009-04-19T19:53:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the first time you stayed up past midnight?

I do.

It was a momentous occasion. Our family was at my Grandpa Bergman’s house over the Christmas holiday. Together with all the cousins, we ate food, opened presents, laughed, ate food, played games, visited, and ate food. This ritual occurred every holiday season. The night would pass by and suddenly it was late. Late for a kid, at least. Turn back into a pumpkin late.

On one such night, I remember all of us sitting around at the end of the festivities. It was around midnight, and we were about to disperse for slumber. The problem was we were all too tired to actually get up and go to our various houses or beds. I was lying on Grandpa’s lavender couch. It was one of those big geometrical couches, not like the cushy sofas of today. It had these wide armrests that were the perfect size for a kid to perch or lie on.

It was late and we were too languid (oooh, big word) to even visit much. As my parents and older siblings tell me, we were lounging in this weary silence when suddenly I disclosed my divine revelation.

At least that’s what I call it. (Cut me some slack. I was eight years old.)

What did I say?

I’m glad you asked. Your life will never be the same after you hear it. I know mine never was (my family won’t let me forget it). Are you prepared to broaden your horizons? Are you sure?

Okay, here goes:

“Cannonballs are heavy.”

I’m not certain where this outstanding observation originated. I recall just staring at the ceiling and letting it escape my lips. I don’t know if I had ever even seen a real cannonball before. (I have since on trips to historical forts. And those metal spheres do look pretty hefty.) I probably figured out the relative weight of cannonballs from watching too many Bugs Bunny cartoons. Thanks a bunch, Warner Bros.

Needless to say, my declaration made an impression on my relatives. Impressed in the same way they burst out laughing during another Christmas. My brother, sister, and I were jointly opening a present. As we did, I thought the gift was a board game we already owned. So I said, “Push Over again!” in an all-knowing fashion. Well, it was not Push Over. It was Sorry!, and boy, was I sorry. Everyone thought my mistake was hilarious—everyone except me.

Live and learn, I suppose.

I encourage you to learn from these writings and resources. Alas, not all of my contributions will be as meaningful as the massiveness of artillery projectiles. Nevertheless, the purpose of my words here are to teach, inspire, and expose you to the revelations encountered in my life. (Along with the joy of all things internet. Gotta keep up my geek-cred.)

But why should you learn from me? Why should you spend your valuable time reading my thoughts?

Got me.

As Socrates once said to Plato . . . .

Well, it was in Greek and I wouldn’t understand it, anyway. If my writings are for no one else, then they will be for my ancestors. When I’m old and senile, my children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces, etc., can read through these paragraphs and say, “Hmm, that explains a lot.”

Maybe someday when I’m rich and famous, I’ll compile these entries as my official “memoirs.” It could be after my ten hardcover bestsellers; or after my Box Office record-breaking, Oscar-winning, provocative action-romance movie saga masterpiece for kids of all ages; or maybe after my two-term presidency. I’ll retire and publish a book for the millions clamoring to experience all that is “Daniel ‘Danny’ Jay Bergman.”

Then I can relax and ride this gravy train until the day I hop aboard that sweet chariot to the Other Side. All thanks to some heavy cannonballs.

Note: All characters, produce, and philosophers are copyrighted by their respective creators.

Self-Photography - Introduction and Works #1-3

2009-04-08T19:00:00.000-07:00

About ten years ago, I created a new form of art. It’s a combination of photography and self-portraits. It’s self-photography. This artwork is rather self-explanatory. I take pictures of myself.

“Well, that’s rather easy and egotistical,” you might say.

I shall address both issues, starting with the latter. Yes, perhaps there’s an underlying sickness in my obsession of myself. I was single until age 31. Gimme a break.

Now about the former issue. The actual method of self-photography is harder than it looks. The most challenging part is aiming the camera back at me. You see, I don’t use a timer and set the camera on a stool. I actually hold out the camera with one arm and point it back at me. While I strain to keep the camera steady and focused on me, I push the button using that same hand. Usually, I hold the camera with my left hand, because it’s easier to reach the button that way. For most of my pieces, I used an automatic camera with an automatic flash.

Another challenge in self-photography is holding the camera far enough so it takes the picture. If it’s too close, it won’t allow you to take the picture. It has to be about three feet from the object (my head, in this case). That is the most aggravating part. So, depending on how limber I am at the time, I strain and stretch to get the camera just far enough so it will click. This stretching also leads to accidentally shooting with my head out of the camera’s focus. So, I often have “partial” self-photography pictures. These are the more artsy pieces—more avant-garde. (“Hmm,” a critic might think, “He seems to announce his partiality in human spirit with this one. How courageous!”)

My foray into a pioneering art genre began when I was in college—probably one night when I was bored in my dorm room or taking a break from studying. Besides boredom or self-indulgence, there actually was some purpose to my innovative artwork. There were actually two major reasons, to begin with.

First, I did it when I wanted to use up some film. Back in college, I had the old fashioned film canister camera—that was before everyone and their toddler had digital cameras. Often I took a bunch of pictures from an event or trip, and wound up with two exposures left from the roll of film. Rather than waiting for the next big event for pictures (usually two months later), I’d just finish up the film lickety split.

The second purpose of my self-photography origination was much more narcissistic. I did it so I could do a “hair check.” I took pictures all around my head. I wanted to see how my hair looks from all angles. The view from the mirror reflection was too simple. I needed to see more. What does everyone else see? Often, I’d take pictures of my hair before and/or after a haircut. That way, I could see how it looks longish, and how it looks shortish. (Of course, this was before I realized I could just buy a cheap hand mirror and use it in conjunction with a bathroom mirror to view my noggin from the side and back. But I had more important things to worry about as a bachelor, such as the legalities of eating pancakes with Spaghetti-O’s® for brunch.)

So you see, there was (and is) a reason to my madness. Although if I did admit I was crazy, it would make my self-photography art even more cutting edge and revolutionary! (The next Dali—except no funky mustache.)

Sadly, my dabbling in self-photography has taken a sharp decline since I got married. My wife can tell me when it’s time to get a haircut. And we now take pictures together.

Without further ado, please enjoy the pieces selected from my self-photography collection. Each feature will include the approximate date and explanatory commentary.

Check back to see additions to my on-going on-line gallery. I will post one or more at a time whenever I want to see myself from years past with more (or less) hair.

Self-Photograph #1 – January, 1998

This is perhaps my earliest piece of self-photography art. I took this picture to use up the film (and you can tell - that white stripe on the left is part of the picture - the actual edge of the film!).

The time of this photo was right after getting home from my Orange Bowl trip with the University of Nebraska Cornhusker Marching Band ("The Pride of All Nebraska"). The NU football team won the National Championship that year (the “Bowl Alliance” one). They beat Peyton Manning and the Tennessee Volunteers. (Go Big Red!)

I have dubbed this self-photo my “Eyeglass Model Photograph.” Betcha can't tell why.

Self-Photograph #2 – Spring, 1998

Me in my dorm room with Ace. I actually met the REAL Ace Ventura at Walt Disney World-Hollywood Studios in Florida. After posing for a picture with me, he said, "Spank you very much." My reply? "No, Ace. Spank YOU." Comedy gold.

Self-Photograph #3 – Early Summer, 1998

I tried to make a cute little self-photo with me and a kitten after a summer evening of playing basketball. (I rule the hoop at Rural Route 1 Box 24-A.) Unfortunately, this self-photo didn’t quite work out the way I intended. So, I’ll go more introspective on this one:

=Ahem=

This self-photograph elucidates a mysterious fractionalization of the human experience in comparison with the innocence of a tiny kitten.

Does that work? (I didn’t think so.)

More Self-Photography Coming Soon!

Ka-BOOM

2009-04-07T15:52:00.000-07:00

Jesus Christ did something important when he was 33 years old.

Today, April 7, 2009, is my 33rd birthday. I figure I'd better get started on doing some important stuff.

So smack on some Chapstick® and double-tie your shoelaces. This is it, friends—the OFFICIAL blog (i.e. “web log”) of Daniel Jay Bergman: Cannonballs are Heavy!

Check out Cannonballs are Heavy whenever you need to catch up on some profound thoughts, random trivia, pop miscellany, and—of course—the latest goings on in my world and inner universe. You may not get it all, but that’s 14% of the fun.

Stay tuned, gentle readers!