It's not me, its you

Or, more accurately, it's them.

http://www.miamiherald.com/opinion/other-views/story/1398423.html

They Still Don't Love Us

BY FRIDA GHITIS

FJGHITIS@GMAIL.COM

If you thought America would quickly regain the world's love, admiration and -- most important -- it's willingness to follow the U.S. lead once Barack Obama came to power, the news is disappointing. A useful guide to what has transpired comes from Venezuela's president and his most peculiar sulfurometer. Hugo Chávez, it seems, can smell the Devil, especially when the Prince of Darkness takes up residence in the body of an American president.

Watching Chávez's devil-spotting shows that efforts to turn America's foes into friends will, in many cases, prove utterly useless. There is an important lesson there for everyone, including the resident of the White House.

Chávez's first supernatural sighting came at the United Nations in 2006, when the Venezuelan leader took the podium after President Bush gave a speech and announced in the solemn chamber that he could smell sulfur still hanging in the air from Bush's presence.

The air cleared up nicely after the 2008 elections. ``It doesn't smell of sulfur. It's gone,'' declared Chávez last September, scanning the grand hall of the U.N. General Assembly. ``It smells of something else,'' he added approvingly. ``It smells of hope.'' The Chávez nasal gauge confirmed expectations that America's standing in the world was changing.

But hold the celebration. All is not well. On Dec. 18, Chávez revealed the new air-quality measurements during a speech in Copenhagen's U.N. Climate Change Conference. The Venezuelan's turn at the microphone came only moments after Obama, so the airborne particles tickled his sensitive nose. ``It smells likes sulfur here,'' he said, blaming the problem, shockingly, on Obama. The ``Nobel War Prize'' winner he called him.

In summary: Devil, Hope and now Devil again. America still personifies what is wrong with the world.

How is this possible? Wasn't Obama supposed to make the world love America again? Wasn't Bush the source of all of Washington's woes?

The opinion of one man, especially the president of Venezuela, is not terribly important, but it helps illustrate the folly of believing that ``tone'' determines international behavior. Clearly, Chávez's problem is not one man. It never was. Chávez's anti-Americanism was not the result of his dislike for Bush. Some will say what matters is not the man but his policies. But even that does not tell the whole story.

Some countries and politicians have goals and interests that conflict sharply with the United States. Regardless of how the man in the Oval Office speaks, regardless of how charming he is. And some nations and leaders will define themselves by their anti-Americanism.

Still, the conciliatory tone from President Obama does serve a useful purpose. When Bush was president, it was easy to believe that people like Chávez or regimes such as Iran's acted the way they did because America spoke in tones they found offensive or overly confrontational. Now we know there was more.

Iran's defiance of international demands on its nuclear program are not the product of poor table manners from the Bush administration. Iran behaves as it does because its regime has certain objectives, and its accelerated nuclear enrichment is key to achieving goals such as regional supremacy.

During the Bush years, many believed Iran's intransigence was the direct result of Bush's threatening stance. Since Obama came to power, he has tried unsuccessfully to stop Iran from lying to the U.N.'s nuclear authorities and deceiving the world's diplomats. Iran has dismissed all efforts despite Washington's new conciliatory tone and its efforts to find a diplomatic solution.

It has become more difficult to blame America for the problem. And yet, some will continue to see the devil's shadow and blame the US no matter how much America's president scrubs his foreign policy.

In the case of Iran, America's once-reluctant allies may have learned that the problem was not Washington's tone but Iranian objectives. That may or may not persuade Russia and China to support Western nations' efforts to pressure Iran through economic sanctions. But the truly important product of the new revelations will be found not overseas but inside the White House.

If Obama thought a change of tone would make the world see things America's way, his first year in power has brought a powerful lesson: Sometimes countries disagree simply because their goals are mutually exclusive.

Foosball's the Devils Game

Just a link. Short article. Interesting read.

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/jeff_pearlman/12/18/pear/index.html

Dave Pearhas a message for you.

"Don't let your kids play football," he says. "Never."

It is an odd thing, hearing these sort of words from a man like David Louis Pear, University of Washington standout, Pro Bowl defensive lineman for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, Super Bowl champion with the Oakland Raiders. His five-year NFL career was one thousands of high school and college athletes would envy -- charging out of a darkened stadium tunnel, 70,000 fans screaming for you, loving you, praising you, idolizing you.

"You wanna know the truth?" says Pear.

The question lingers -- the 56-year-old ex-athlete preparing to unload one more skull-splitting hit.

"I wish I never played football. I wish that more than anything. Every single day, I want to take back those years of my life ..."

The words are not subtle. They spit from Pear's mouth, with a blistering contempt normally reserved for drunk drivers. We are speaking via phone. I am in New York, sipping a hot chocolate, leaning back in a chair. My two young children are asleep. A Pretenders song, "2000 Miles," plays in the background. No worries, no complexities. Pear is sitting at his home in Seattle. His neck hurts. His hips hurt. His knees hurt. His feet hurt. When he wakes up in the morning, pain shoots through his body. When he goes to sleep at night, pain shoots through his body. What does Pear do to stay active?

"My life is simple," he says. "It's hard to get out of bed, but eventually I do. I try and do a little walking on the treadmill. I take naps. I go to physical therapy once per week. I read my Bible."

He is, in basic terms, a train wreck -- a football-inflicted train wreck. Pear walks with a cane and, often, simply doesn't walk at all. He suffers from vertigo and memory loss. Over the past 18 years, he has undergone eight surgeries, beginning with a Posterior Cervical Laminectomy on his neck in 1981, and including disc removal and rod fusion in his back (1987), arthroplasty in his left hip (2008) and, earlier this year, four screws removed from his lower back. Though he chalks up his physical ailments to snap after snap of punishment, he pinpoints the biggest problems back to 1979 and '80, his final two NFL seasons. While playing for Oakland, Pear suffered a herniated disc in his neck that never improved. Despite the unbearable agony, he says the Raiders urged him to keep playing.

Be a man! Be tough!"Those last two years in Oakland were very, very difficult times," he says. "I was in pain 24 hours per day, and my employers failed to acknowledge my injury. Sure, I won a Super Bowl ring. But was it worth giving up my health for a piece of jewelry? No way. Those diamonds have lost their luster."

Throughout North America, many of Pear's retired football brethren hear his words and scream,Amen!Conrad Dobler, the legendary Cardinals offensive lineman, is about to go through his 32nd knee surgery.Wally Chambers, the Chicago Bears' three-time Pro Bowl defensive end, spends much of his time in a wheelchair.Earl Campbell, the powder blue bowling ball, struggles to walk and underwent surgery to remove three large bone spurs. The list is both heartbreaking and never-ending -- one NFL player after another after another, debilitated either mentally, physically, or both. I'm currently working on a book that has led me to interview more than 150 former players. I'd say 60 percent experience blistering pain from a sport they last played two decades ago.

"And the NFL," Pear says, "doesn't care."

Hence, he is fighting back. Two years ago, Pear started a blog, davepear.com, with the intent of supporting hobbled NFL veterans and calling out the league's laughable disability policy. Pear says he first applied for disability benefits in 1983, and was denied. He applied again in 1995, under a new provision that stated players would be compensated should they properly prove their injuries were permanently debilitating. A league-appointed physician examined Pear and filed a report stating that a man who once bench pressed 500 pounds could no longer sit, stand or bend for prolonged time periods.

To Pear's shock and dismay, benefits were again denied.

Finally, in 2009, Pear's request was accepted, and he now receives a whopping $40,000 annually. "Am I financially stable?" he asks with a laugh. "Let's put it this way. By the time I was 27 I had two children and medical bills that would reach $500,000. I can't work, my wife,Heidi, has had to hold two and sometimes three different jobs at the same time. And why? Because the NFL hasn't allowed me and my family to receiver proper benefits."

Pear pauses. He worries that he sounds like a typical whiner -- some ex-jock who didn't appreciate making it big. "This isn't even about me," he says. "It really isn't. There are guys so much worse off than me, it's criminal. We dreamed our whole lives to play professional football, and our dreams came true. And then they turn into nightmares."

Pear is blunt, like a rusty dental knife. He consideredGene Upshaw, the former NFL Players Association executive director, to be a criminal. "He wasKen Lay," he says of the deceased Enron CEO. "Same thing -- took all the veterans he supposedly represented for a ride." He holds out hope that Upshaw's replacement,DeMaurice Smith, might make things right. "I'm keeping an open mind," he says. "I hope Mr. Smith looks at the retired players and sees the wreckage.

"We need help," he says.

A long, painful sigh.

"We need help."

Jeff Pearlman can be reached at anngold22@gmail.com.

Read more:http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/jeff_pearlman/12/18/pear/index.html#ixzz0ab2GgyFY
Get a free NFL Team Jacket and Tee withSI Subscription

Diplomacy in Action

Worth posting.

Who thinks of this? Pure Genius.

Food Inc.

Emily rented this from Netflix and it's been sitting in our apartment for a couple weeks (since she's been out of town). I've been really hesitant to watch it figuring that it would be exaggerated shock value. Not that it wouldn't be for a good reason or good cause, but when info gets tainted with semi-truth or one sidedness, it becomes harder to watch or support even if noble-intended.

I was surprised by the film.

The scenes of the industrialized farming weren't what surprised me. What really made an impression were the stories of corporate bullying and manipulation and seeing how deep corporate influence and control goes.

The interviews with the Joel guy from Polyface Farms were all terrific. That guy is pretty cool. It wasn't all gloomy by any means. It was pretty inspiring. In the special features theres an ABC news spot with Joel and the founder of Chipotle Restaurants.

I was impressed. I'm a fan.

Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hmm?

Parable of the Pie

My good friend from school gave this to me, his sister wrote it down as it happened to her. I really enjoyed it and thought you all might as well:

Maybe all moms have something they make especially well. For my mom, it is her apple pie. She doesn’t make it often and we all look forward to Thanksgiving because mom’s apple pie is as sure to be made on that day as the Turkey. On this particular Thanksgiving I was ten-years-old. The noon meal was a success and by evening there was just enough left-over apple pie for three pieces. Seeing this, my father took the pie to the table and called his children in to sit down. My father cut the pie into three disproportionate pieces; a piece that was an exact third of what remained, a much larger piece, and a remaining smaller piece. He put each piece on a plate and passed it out, giving me the smallest piece. My father acknowledged the pie was divided up unfairly and went on to explain, although close in age, we would grow up and have different lives, with different strengths, incomes, health, and challenges. He wanted us to be prepared for when that time came.

He turned to my eleven-year-old sister, Natalie, who had the largest piece of pie, and said, “You have a much bigger piece than either of your sisters. Don’t you want to share your pie with them?” I would like to tell you Natalie did share her pie, but she did not. Instead, she gave my father an incredulous look, smiled, and ate her pie in front of us. Do not judge my sister. She was eleven after all and probably not the best choice to give the largest piece of pie to (if hoping for a different outcome). My father then turned to my twelve-year-old sister, Marlain, who had an exact third of the remaining pie, and asked if she would like to share with her youngest sister who had less. I would like to tell you Marlain shared her pie, but she did not. She complained it was unfair to ask her to share, when it was Natalie who had the largest piece. And so, Marlain ate her pie. Again, do not judge my sister. Although she was older, she was only twelve, and in her mind, justified. I thought, “It is so unfair! Why do I always get the smallest piece of everything?” My father then turned to me – suspecting I felt jilted – and he was right. He chided me saying, “Why are you upset? You have pie. You should be happy.” He then went on to say it was probably healthier to have a smaller piece and I should be happy for my sisters because they had received more than me.

I was ten. My father’s intended lesson did not go well. No one shared. No one appeared to listen and I’m sure my father believed he had failed in his attempt to teach us. For me, it was an experience I looked back on repeatedly, and my perspective gradually shifted as I contemplated that day. For some time, I remembered it as a day of unfairness and wondered if my father even loved me, or at least, if he loved me less than my sisters who he had given a larger portion. Eventually, and long overdue, I came to a point of acceptance and reconciliation, and was able to acknowledge my father was well-intended, my sisters were young, and I forgave them.

As more time passed and I matured, what my father had predicted came true. My sisters and I did have different lives, levels of education, income, talents, and challenges. I found myself able to feel happy for others when they had more than me and compassion for them in their challenges when they had less. I was even able to roll my eyes and agree that a smaller piece of pie was ultimately healthier. There was another, more substantial benefit in having the smallest piece. Would the day have held the same significance and would I have spent as much time thinking about it if I had not received the smallest portion? Probably not. In this way, I learned to be grateful for my adversity and the impact it had on my life.

Like the pieces of pie, there are areas in life where I am disproportionately blessed, sometimes giving me a “largest” piece of pie. I would like to tell you that at these times, I always share, but it would not be true. There are times I am tempted to want more. A larger portion places me at a crossroads with an opportunity to either keep my abundance within myself or use it to help others.

There are also areas in life where I fall in the middle. Areas where some people have more and others have less. I would also like to tell you at these times I always share, but again, it would not be true. There are multiple excuses, like it is someone else’s responsibility, or someone else has a “larger piece”, or it would be a hardship – not necessarily true, but serves its purpose as an excuse. I have realized that these times also present opportunities where I am given a choice between my own self-interest and the interests of others.

There are areas of life where I believe I have the smallest portion of pie – areas where I feel I have less to offer than most. In fact, there are even areas and times where I believe I have no pie – areas where I feel entirely incompetent and unable – where I am called upon by life to build-up my own capacity, or “make my own pie”, so I have something to offer.

I learned all the lessons my father intended, albeit many years later. However, I continued to think about this day and came to realize there was an additional lesson for me to learn. At age ten and even beyond, I was so consumed with my comparatively small piece of pie, and the unfairness in how it was divided, it was decades before I realized at my same table was my father who had no pie. He had given all of it to us and had taken none for himself. What I could have done and should have done, was to share my pie with him. But because my focus was on myself and what I lacked compared to those around me, I failed to see there was someone who lacked even more right in front of me.

In reflection of this day, my understanding has grown to the point that as I think of this memory now, I think of it as “The Parable of the Pie”. It helps shape the gratitude I feel for all things in my life, so my message to you is this… It is Thanksgiving. Let’s you and I be grateful for all we have, so we are better able to recognize the needs of those around us, and share all of our pieces of pie.

Wishing You and Yours a Wonderful Thanksgiving,

Valerie Burgess

Self-Expression and Depenedence on Others

Allow this post to be more personal than usual.

Emily went to bed a few minutes ago and I had just finished tweaking and printing out the ward program for her for church tomorrow. As I sat on the couch thinking about her and me and our relationship I had a revelation of sorts. Not really a revelation of anything new, but a picture of what already was made more clear to me. One of our differences is also a great strength to both of us. Emily has a stronger dependence on close friends and relatives immediately around her: Her parents, best friends, me, our kids. When she has a problem she depends on others around us for the help or the answer. Last night, her new sewing machine she just bought went funny and she couldn't get it working before bedtime. This afternoon she went to the sewing store and the saleswoman spent a good deal of time with her explaining everything Emily could soak up and more and helped her out a lot. When Emily is having emotional troubles she comes to me or her parents for help.

I'm a little different. Instead of immediately going to people for help, I go to books, guides, internet, etc for the information I want (unless the person who can help is literally in my presence AND I trust them enough to show the limits of my abilities). I had begun to think that Emily was more dependent on others and that I was somehow more independent. The silly truth is that I am just as dependent on others as anyone else could be. I depend on authors, teachers, and scholars for writing books, websites, and articles on what I want to know. For emotional trouble I've always felt I had to rely entirely on the Lord. There were a lot of lonely times as a teenager (and even into adulthood) when I had no friends but the spirit after a prayerful plea to warm my aching heart. Even as I grow, I have to depend entirely on God to ease my burdens. I know this is what we're supposed to do, but there's a strong independent side to me that wants to figure everything out on my own even though I'm not very good at it. Because of this, often the only person left to help me through my (often self-imposed) isolation is my Father in Heaven. One upside to this is that I feel I've gotten to know him very well.

As I encounter problems with my environment and with myself and my weaknesses, I've usually tried to take care of it myself first, with my own abilities and talents. I was taught about personal responsibility and self-reliance and for a long time felt that this applied to spiritual issues as well. The truth: It doesn't. I can get to a certain point, but I cannot get past it and the more I try to get past it on my own, the more often I fall back down.

What I've realized is that even most of my own ability to choose right is a gift from God. The choice is still mine, but that is literally all there is to my credit. Yes, I do the task, the action, or the work, but the ability and even motivation to take action on the choice is entirely up to him. Any righteousness others might see in me is purely a gift from God that he has bestowed on me due to choices I made. All wickedness and faults that others see in me are purely my own fault and only a tip of the iceberg because of God's tenderness in hiding most of my flaws and mistakes from others for some reason that is known only to him. My wicked choices are often even hid from myself until I am ready to tackle the choice head on, consciously. He is leading me through life exactly as he knows I should so that I can end up where he knows I want to go. I'm the one who has to learn for myself what I want and I will learn it by seeing the choices I make when they are brought to light.

One choice I made involved self-expression. Art. At one point between high school and adulthood I was faced with a solid choice presented to me. Obtain a gift for self-expression that would fit my imagination or pursue a course that was more certain to fulfill God's commandments. I knew at that moment that for me, in my place, the choice was one way or the other and I knew the likely consequences of each. Even though I ached to find some way to express everything I felt, I knew the eternal benefits of the latter and chose that. A few days after this decision I felt a certain reassurance that the choice I made would fulfil my desire for self-expression in a way I never could imagine. That by fulfilling these commandments I would be able to use every capacity, feeling, and emotion I had in a creative way that would express itself to me and to others. I see this expression forming now. A symphony and opus in its infancy.

This choice and the following reassurance were not the effects of an emotional, distraught, or fatigued mind. They were as clear as a Fall day on the coast with no clouds or haze, when mountain tops more than 50 miles away are plainly visible. The same reassurance that told me as a young missionary I would certainly see the town of Bella Coola and perform missionary work in the town of Terrace, both of which occured before returning home--an opportunity afforded to very few missionaries and an opportunity that was only decided on days before it occured. When these reassurances were physically fulfilled, fire burned inside me as I was reminded of what I'd been told by the Spirit 8 months previously in a dark damp apartment in Vancouver.

In this same way I am reminded now of what I was told 8 years ago about how I would be able to express myself beyond my imagination through the same certain aspect of my life promised so long ago. This makes me happy.

*Ahem*

Just got this one from a friend. If you haven't been to visit us yet, here's some peer pressure to move you along. An open vote by a travel magazine/website has placed San Francisco as the best city in the US to visit for the ....wait for it..... 17th year in a row. We're totally cool with visitors, so if you wanna stop by even for just a weekend, we'd be happy to see you and show you around. Even if you don't like us, at least use us for a free place to stay and come look around on your own or something. We're not going to be here THAT much longer. We've already had lots of visitors, ask them if they liked it. Bring the kiddos too.

P.S. If you stumbled on this from the webs and don't know us and we don't know you, sorry, this offer's good for non-strangers only.

Fog, fog, fog, fog, fog, fog, fog, fog, fog,

I need to come up with more words to my favorite song (see the title above), which is about my favorite characteristic of this city.

I think people complain about the fog, because they feel like they're supposed to or something. Seriously, this stuff is the best! I tried to find statistics about the foggiest city in the US and ended with somewhere in Virginia winning at 116 days vs. San Francisco's average 106 or whatever. Nonsense! If Baker Beach or the passage into the bay (the Golden Gate) were a city, it would CRUSHHH (with a monstrous Skeletor sounding CRUSSSSHHHH) Charlestown's or whatever-lame-names-city, VA's record.

Take for example, the last day of class last quarter, end of September. Sunny day. I can deal with it, but big deal. I ride the nearly straight line home, not a hint of cloud in the sky anywhere. As I come up to the last few blocks of Lake before I turn up the hill into the Presidio at 15th, I note the vapor coming over into the street several blocks ahead. Ahah! I turn up the hill, past the under-construction former hospital which is half enshrouded with visibly hanging curtains of mist. Halfway up the hill, at the dirt-road back entrance to the Baker Beach housing I plunge into the cloud and enjoy a cool gray bath riding down the hill, invigorated and excited to be home.

Another example, Wednesday of this week, I'm waiting for Emily to pick me up at school (it was raining that morning so she gave me a ride). The sun is glaringly bright and at the level of sight where it's just constantly in your eyes. OBNOXIOUS! We get a couple hot chocolates at Bittersweet on Fillmore just below the school and head home. I ask her to drive my bike-route home. Again, on Lake heading west along the bottom edge of the Presidio is a low-lying cloud just above the tops of the 3-story homes. We both heave a sigh of relief and start filling our lungs with cool fresh mist as we escape from the sun in the fresh cool grayness. So nice.

Right now the fog horns on the GG Bridge are playing their song and there's no other noise to speak of.

If there were still Native Americans around here, I'd guess they'd have, like, 150 different words for the various fogs that hit this city. Fogs with clear underneath, low-lying fogs very localized, the stream of fog that goes through the Golden Gate, the massive Tsunami-type fog that takes over the entire city, the Niagara Falls type fog that literally pours down the east side of the Marin Headlands next to the gate, and the windy fog that blows across the street 10 feet in front of you at 20-30 mph or just over your arm's reach as it charges up the hill. I tell Emily, I could live here in this neighborhood forever, half of it just to enjoy the fog and views of the Gate. The only downside is that while it's perfectly cool temperatures of mid 60's and overcast at our place, it's 80 degrees everywhere else. It's like going in and out of a cave (which is really why I like it so much, who needs shelter from this?)

Enough boring talking, here's more pictures and a video for you to look at. I stole all these from elsewhere on the internet.

Looking south. Our apartment is just to the right of the second tower.

This is one of the massive Tsunami fogs engulfing the city from the ocean. The bridge is just in the center right. There is a city somewhere under that blanket.

This is the weird one. The bridge/gate is just out of the picture to the lower left (the source of the band of clouds). The Marin Headlands and the Presidio act like a funnel squeezing fog through the narrow Golden Gate.

Pretty fog, great for pictures and posters. At the water surface, I guarantee the visibility on the right side of the picture is not more than 100 feet, yet the top of the fog is below the deck of the bridge (just 200 feet off the water)

I spent all of 5 minutes making this highly technical map for the geographically challenged. For perspective, my bike ride from Baker Beach to school is exactly 3 miles, 1-2 blocks off of California St. Note that the fog is thicker at Baker Beach, because it really is. That map is more accurate than NASA's best satellites. If you can't read the text, left to right the white labels read: Marin Headlands, Baker Beach, Golden Gate, School, Downtown (stupid MSPaint, stupid Blogger...)

The video's not terribly exciting, it's actually boring, but it's short and shows how localized the fog is around the bridge and the Presdio (if you didn't see the Presdio in the video, there's a good reason!). At about 35 seconds you can see downtown crystal-clear while the west side of the city is swamped in with delicious pea-soup. A delightful place to be!

Drugs

Sounds like withdrawal symptoms. A very telling article.

This is just cool

(title unknown part 2)

Yeah, there was no title last time, I was just being lazy.

Here's one more video.

We'd heard about this idea that was going to be tried out, but I'll confess I didn't know they had started using it already. "Access to care" is something we hear about a lot and this quarter we started our Pediatric Dentistry class. Nationally 80% of tooth problems occur within 20% of the population. Here in California, 40% of kids will have at least one cavity by the time they're 5, and 50% will have a cavity by the time they're 6. Not a statistic any dentist at the school is proud of. The goal is to prevent this from happening and try to help the (usually) underserved/undereducated/lower socioeconomic families take care of their teeth before problems happen. If teeth need to be pulled early because of severe decay, that causes problems in the permanent teeth growing in, which leads to more decay, which leads to those people losing their teeth at an earlier than average age. The goal is to help people keep their teeth their whole life.

Near the end of last year, a professor gave a great lecture on Animal dentitions. He had a collection of various animal skulls and went through a lecture of various animals and animal types and the teeth they have and what they're used for. One point he emphasized was that if animals don't have teeth, they die. And even most who die (aside from being eaten) with their teeth, die due to a tooth infection/abscess. Especially herbivores. He had the skull of a gorilla who died from a tooth abscess and passed it around. There were actually multiple abscesses, but only one was really big and made a hole deep into the center of the skull and got into the large veins there and blood stream. Crazy.

Fortunately we can pull teeth out or fill them or crown them, or replace them, sort of, but that's not so fun. Nothing is as good as real tooth.

Moral of the non-story: Take care of your teeth, and help your kids take care of their teeth. Recommendations from the Pediatric dental association: Have an exam on your kids just after their first teeth come in, and have a "dental home" for them by the time they're a year old. Easier said than done, I know. Grace has seen a dentist once in her life about 6 months ago and she's almost 4, but Em or I brush her teeth every night as part of her bedtime ritual.

Part of a table that I'll be tested on tomorrow for the "Pedo" Final is about flouride for kids. Ideal is about 1 part per million in drinking water for a mostly topical effect to help keep teeth from dissolving/decaying. Since our water is fluoridated to that level, we don't need to use a fluoride toothpaste for Grace while she's this young, especially since she gets good care of her teeth. Kids that don't get fluoride in their water and help taking care of their teeth, fluoride supplements are recommended up to .25mg day for under 3 years old, up to .5mg/day for up to 6, and up to 1mg/day up to 16.

Look at that, I must be ready for the final (except that I had to look those numbers up just now...)

A couple of videos for your enjoyment. (Edit: Seems like the first one didn't show in Google Reader. The video can be watched Right Here but I've switched it to the youtube version)

My favorite part is the "pirates" line.

Make sure you catch the last few seconds of that second one.

Extra Edit: Found this one on facebook. Check out

Camarillo, California Slideshow Tribute from Memory Makerz on Vimeo.

There's an extra special little picture thrown in at 4:48 that many of you will appreciate. I'm not sure who sponsored this to be made, but I've got a strong suspicion its the family that appears near the beginning. There's also a Facebook page for Camarillo with some good pictures and stuff.

Tidbits

Randomness:

Exposure to cold is a really good way to increase thyroid activity and metabolism for up to 48 hours.

There are 2 types of fat cells in all mammals: White and Brown. White is typical energy storage and makes up the vast majority of human fat. Brown fat is reserved purely for heat-production and is what hibernating mammals live off. Humans can be induced to make and use more of it by exposure to cold, but it seems to be limited to about 500 calories or so, which translates to much less than a pound of body fat. The molecular mechanism for the difference is REALLY REALLY cool, but I'll save it for another time.

Growth hormone release is triggered by: sleep, starvation, low blood-sugar, and stress, among other things. Apparently your body gets prepped to use and store whatever nutrition/energy/mass it can get its hands on when your caloric intake isn't high enough to maintain your body weight and complains to you whenever that's the case.

We just noticed that as well as Grace speaks, she can't/won't say the "th" sound. We started practicing during her bedtime stories at night. She thinks it's funny. It's apparently also normal to pick it up between 4-7 years old. She loves her preschool lesson book that Em and her work on together and keeps asking Emily when she gets to go to school. She's also very conscious of when other kids are sad and tries to be their friend.

Leif is starting to army-crawl around the floor. He also knows what balls are for. A few days ago at a toy store, he kept reaching for a bin of bouncy balls. I handed him one totally expecting it to go straight to his mouth since EVERYTHING else does, but instead he throws it and laughs his head off when it bounces. Over and over again he does this. He also moves his hands (not his arms, just his hands) like crazy whenever he's excited, like an orchestra conductor. His hair still has an orange tint to it, and we love noting the similarities and differences between him and what Grace was like at that age. He definitely loves food much more.

The "humoral defense" or antibody response of our immune systems is absolutely crazily fantastic. The cell-mediated and innate-immune defense is pretty cool too, but the whole idea of antibodies is way-out-there awesomeness.

Speaking of antibodies, one reason why a vaccine against bacteria that cause dental cavities (streptococcus mutans) isn't used is because antibodies against the strep bacteria attach to heart muscle proteins and cause problems there. Weird.

I found this interview of Darren Aronofsky talking about the interplay of science and spirituality he portrays in one of my favorite movies, "The Fountain". Anyone familiar with the story of the Garden of Eden might pick out the reference in the first picture (from the movie) of the "cherubim and a flaming sword" guarding the way of the tree of life. I really enjoyed the interview and thought it is the glimpse into his thoughts and aspects of the movie which make the movie really great, which every other review or synopsis of the movie totally misses.

As residents of the Presidio we got invited to be among the first previewers to the brand new "Walt Disney Family Museum" over at the Main Post here in the Presidio (for Free!). It's a museum of Walt Disney's life. It was incredible, and we didn't even get to read half of the stuff throughout the museum due to having Grace and Leif with us. We spent over two hours in the gallery, mostly just looking at the pictures and watching video clips. Really amazing. The end of the gallery concludes with descriptions of his final days and death and collected tributes to the man. Made both of us want to cry. The museum opens to the public October 1st and will have a small cafe, store, and movie theater (which will show classic Disney films). Grace is begging us to go to Disneyland now.

I have poison oak on my hand. Probably from my shoe from picking blackberries. There's a nice stripe of bumpy itchy rash (also known as contact dermatitis, or type-iv/delayed hypersensitivity reaction, for those of you so inclined. No antibodies involved in this one).

I started playing Farmville on Facebook at the request of a classmate and somehow got hooked. Now I spend at least 10-15 minutes each evening managing this dumb farm.

Em and I went to the California Dental Association convention downtown with the kids last week and walked around the exhibit floors. The name tag they gave me had my name and the title of "Dentist" on it, not "Student". Some classmates there were excited thinking that they'd get treated with more respect. It was funny getting addressed with "How are you doing today, Doctor?", "Doctor, would you like to participate in our special offer today?" "Where is your practice located, Doctor?" Weird. It was REALLY nice being able to tell them I was a student and not interested in buying anything right now, but just there to get ideas. Instantly made the pushy sales-people back off while the really nice ones weren't phased and still pleasant to talk to and eager to demonstrate their products without a commitment to sell. I told Emily, next time we go, we'll switch badges so she can be the dentist and I can be the "guest" and see what happens. We also surprisingly ran into a really good family friend and neighbor of my parents who was working at the Oral-B/Crest exhibit, Kevin Malan. It was fun seeing him.

Wow

At school, healthcare reform comes up a lot lately, and Emily has taken up listening to talk radio in the car instead of the same 10 songs played over and over by every radio station. This has sparked a fair bit of political thinking in my brain. Today, 5 of us sat around a table at lunch and discussed various possibilities, advantages, and disadvantages of various ideas being discussed in the government committees and why or why not they should be adopted. It was a pretty good discussion, I enjoyed it much. Last night, Emily and I tried to figure out what was more important, education or health, since the government provides a certain level of education to anyone of any income that ranks highly among all countries and noone thinks twice about it. We don't know the answer and I brought it up at lunch today without getting a satisfying answer from anyone either.

On digg this evening, a link to a video clip of Bill O'Reilly supporting the public option had this very well written post as the first published comment responding to the video. Very much worth thinking about and strongly considering. No, this doesn't mean I'm a communist or socialist or even left-leaning. It's a satirical comment that drives a VERY strong point about the success of our government in dealing with various institutions. I'll stop talking and just let you read for yourself.

"I am a conservative.
This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the U.S. Department of Energy.

I then took a shower in the clean water provided by a municipal water utility.

After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC-regulated channels to see what the National Weather Service of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration determined the weather was going to be like, using satellites designed, built, and launched by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration.

I watched this while eating my breakfast of U.S. Department of Agriculture-inspected food and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

At the appropriate time, as regulated by the U.S. Congress and kept accurate by the National Institute of Standards and Technology and the U.S. Naval Observatory, I get into my National Highway Traffic Safety Administration-approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal Departments of Transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level
determined by the Environmental Protection Agency, using legal tender issued by the Federal Reserve Bank.

On the way out the door I deposit any mail I have to be sent out via the U.S. Postal Service and drop the kids off at the public school.

After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the Department of Labor and the Occupational Safety and Health administration, enjoying another two meals which again do not kill me because of the USDA, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to my house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and Fire Marshal's inspection, and which has not been plundered of all its
valuables thanks to the local police department.

And then I log on to the internet -- which was developed by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Administration -- and post on Freerepublic.com and Fox News forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the government can't do anything right."

The final comments concluding our discussion at lunch today involved the unique structure of our government that prohibits any one party, entity, or person from obtaining a control of power; how political movement and debate occurs slowly and independent of short-term passions; that this is all by design by the founding fathers and adjusted by direct and indirect influence of majorities of people in this rather large country seeking to get along and stay unified; and that the whole thing works pretty good.

If it comforts anyone, I am not afraid of what the future holds for this country. Actually, I am pretty hopeful on the whole.

Plotical

I'm risking writing this later in the evening. My senses may not be complete and my judgement may be impaired. Plus, I should be studying (like always).

I've heard/read that the planned optional speech from President Obama to school children across the country planned for tomorrow is causing a stir. I hope anybody who is paranoid of a speech from the President of the United States to kids actually takes the time to read the speech, which is HERE for anyone to read beforehand. As a kid I would have been pretty excited to hear a speech from the President of the United States, especially if he took the time to speak directly to kids. I probably wouldn't have remembered what he was saying even as he spoke it (listening is not a strength of mine), but I would have enjoyed the experience anyways.

It is an excellent speech and most kids who listen to it will probably zone out in the first 30 seconds, because it is pretty innocuous and contains nothing new or revolutionary or even political.

I highly encourage anyone to look at facts and entire pictures from primary sources (information directly from a witness of the event) and not through second, third, or fourth party sources who tend to filter what they present to viewers and listeners as it suits their purposes. With so much information so readily available through the internet, it is becoming EXTREMELY easy to verify whether information is legitimate and I personally am becoming mistrustful of any second or third party provider of news without checking from multiple sources.

A good rule of thumb: If it makes you angry, afraid, or excited, it's probably not an entire picture of the situation and worth double- or triple-checking elsewhere. Real life and real politics are pretty boring 99% of the time. The other 1% involves the start of wars, major natural disasters, and emotional outbursts of public figures (which we look at and shake our heads in shame over, oblivious to our own outbursts and flaws simply because they are not broadcast onto a TV screen or news site, which we would likely mistrust as prejudiced, biased, or *direction*-leaning if it made us look bad anyways).

I actually enjoy most of President Obama's special-event speeches. Whoever writes them does an excellent job and I find very little to disagree with them since most are based on good broad principles which can inspire the vast majority of us to live up to and not usually on specific policies. I wish I was getting a break in class lectures to enjoy an excitingly unusual speech from the President of the United States of America (whatever his name or party is). I also enjoy his pictorial and metaphorical style, even though it's misconstrued and misunderstood by many.

I know many of you might get perturbed by the political views of this cartoon, but I find it timely and funny anyways.

Ramshackle

Yesterday morning I participated in one of the most amazing instances of a family moving ever. This family with 3 kids lived down in the Marina district, 3 blocks from the Palace of Fine Arts, on the 3 story (4 flights up due to the lobby), with a small twisty staircase and no elevator. They had a good amount of stuff in their decently sized apartment. Two things made this move so amazing: (1) Everything that could be packed was packed, and (2) 18 guys were there to help move, almost entirely from the ward (included 4 missionaries). After several teams-o-four muscled the large furniture down the stairs, an assembly line formed and for 20 minutes we shuffled boxes and items down to the lobby and carport. In 20 minutes we had the apartment completely empty with no one stepping more than a couple steps. Then some guys slowly trickled away munching on the last of the donuts and waters as father and father-in-law played tetris in the moving van making sure it all fit. Amazingly it all fit, every last bit, just barely. So within 2 hours (only 40 minutes of actual lifting and hard labor) the moving truck, the largest they were able to rent, was full to the brim. Amazing.

Among the topics of conversation that came up were the fact that our son Leif, will now be the only Leif in the congregation and will no longer have to compete for rarity of his moniker. Also, that I looked like a certain celebrity. Before I reveal who that celebrity is, I'll share the history of which celebrities I've been compared to throughout my life. It doesn't happen often so it should be short.

First, I gotten this one a couple of times from very different people:



This kid in junior high used to tell me I had an "evil" smile, regularly. It would make me laugh. A sinisterly evil laugh. One of the people who told me I looked like the Grinch also wrote about me that I was "a sweet missionary with a gleam of mischief in his eye."

Then I got this one from multiple people as well:



That's the best-looking picture of Kevin Bacon I could find (not bad, I must say, for Kevin Bacon). For 4 months, this Chinese woman in Vancouver with an obnoxiously high pitched, heavily accented voice called me nothing but "Eldah Bacon!!!" "Hahaha, you so funny Elder Bacon!"

Somewhere in the mix one person told me I look like Toby Maguire and one other person told me I look like Matt Damon.




When I'd mention these one-time comparisons to others, no one was able to see the resemblance, and thus I was relegated to losing the only comparisons that I would have taken as compliments.

Then yesterday, the guy moving, Jared, says he and another church member decided that I resembled the grown-up version of this kid:



They were pretty adamant about the comparison, too. Good thing we all have senses of humor......

Picturezilla!

Here's some select pictures from this summer. And yes, I do put some thought into the titles and descriptions so don't go lazy on me not checking out the actual photostream ;-) Or you can do the full-screen slideshow with the "Show Info" option to get the title and captions.

In case you didn't notice, its not very summery here in San Francisco. It's more like wintery. I'm a fan in case you haven't heard me tout the wonders of the weather here. Only on rare occasion would I like to sit out on the sand in the sun, but then I think of the skin cancer that's rampant in my family and I smarten up with that thought and go surfing in a full wetsuit in 50 degree oceans like a normal person.

P.S. If anyone knows which HTML to mess with to kick this slideshow over to the center of the page, I'd be much obliged, I'm far too lazy and tired right now to dink around with it.

Part of the Food Chain

I know I don't post enough pictures on here for my family to enjoy, but when I get on here it's too spur of the moment and the camera's not around, plus I'm not in any of the pictures and most of them are boring stuff like scenery or me taking 50 pictures with different settings trying to figure out how to take awesomely stellar pictures like I wish I could take. Despite the 14MP boastings of the camera, there's still a fair bit of camera noise in the pictures.

To keep myself occupied, I'm putting off studying. There's a test Monday on General Pathology. Instead, I'm on here writing about my surfing adventures lately. The scoop goes like so:

I learned to surf at the end of high school on slow mushy point break waves in Ventura using nice big long boards. Those are nice. Very chill with lots of fun potential from actually riding a wave. Here in San Francisco, the surf scene is pretty different. The only true point break within a half hour drive is actually directly under the Golden Gate Bridge and being that it's back inside the inlet, it only breaks when the swell comes from the west and BIG. Ocean Beach fills up the entire west side of the city and it's what most SF surfers call their home break. And it's rough calling it your home break. All summer long it's windy, cold, foggy, no ground swell with 5 ft wind chop, and it's a shifty beach break that's super inconsistent and unpredictable. I stopped checking the Surfline forecast because there's little difference between "Fair" and "Poor." Maybe to SFers, a fair day is a day they can actually paddle out to the lineup. That's my criteria for a Fair day.

Since Emily's out of town, I've gone surfing more in the last week than I did the whole first year of school. Free time is characteristic of UOP's first part of the second year. Free time means school from 8-5 most days without having to worry about much homework or tests afterwards.

My surfing is improving. I finally know what a shortboard feels like under my feet, and it's pretty impressive. It goes from barely floating to zoom rocket sled that responds to every little tilt and lean. Yesterday and today's evenings I went out to Ocean Beach and stood up for a second or so a few times and for a couple seconds once each. It's slow going, I know, but I can see improvement every day.

Aside from the thrill of actually riding a wave, the equally coolest part of surfing is being on/in the water. It's pretty spiritual at times, either from enjoying the calm between sets or praying for my life in the stormy rough seas. Either way, most prayers get answered and even being out is an answer to many prayers. Humbling, also, is the fact that the ocean really is a great big wilderness that scares the noodles out half the people on this planet.

I got weirded out yesterday. Pelicans were diving for fish when I paddled out and that's always fun to see, but it hints that there's a lot of food in the water. When one pelican dives not 20 feet away from me, that's pretty unique. Then it just sits there staring at me. Staring. So I splashed it, grumbled at it, and ignored it. Then I see a sea-lion between me and the shore. A little more weird. Then I see a fin in the water. Split second of panic until I realize it's a dolphin fin. About 5-6 of em just about 50 feet in front of me. Cool, means no sharks. 'Scept they were just passing through.

So I ride the conveyor belt current to the cove at the end of the beach trying my luck at the waves, get out, walk back to my start point and get in again. More pelicans, all around. LOTS! Then a wave's coming at me and out of the face jumps a small sea lion, full out of the water about 20-30 feet away. This is the final draw and since evening was coming, no dophins in a while, and starting to get cold, I call it a session.

Tonight I go out with a friend and same thing happens. Pelicans, sea lions, dolphins make their hello-goodbye, take the current north, and get out. Not nearly so weird the second time. Except my friend says he keeps hitting the jellies so common to Ocean Beach as he's paddling. I can't feel them cuz my gloves but he says he keeps bumpin them. No dangerous, no stings, but still weird.

The only source of comfort about hanging out in the middle of the food web just off-shore is the simple fact that shark attacks are Extremely rare along the whole 3 miles of ocean beach. Marin to the north, Monterey to the south, and San Francisco's Farillon Islands make the Red Triangle of Great White attacks in North America, but most of the sightings happen at the points of the triangle and Ocean Beach rarely sees the action. Good news for surfing. When Emily gets back she's going to have one ripped husband. Ka-Ching!

We've reached Critical Mass

So, I was gonna come home and tell you all about the cool sinus-lift and implant placement I watched this morning, or about going swimming at one of the city pools until my legs cramped up and then watching classmates play "sloshball" in the field right next to the pool (kickball where all players must play with an open can of beer in one hand) as part of the opening social to the kickball league they joined, or the most incredibly amazing sunset I stopped to watch on the way home (seriously, it was the most amazing sunset I've ever seen). But all that seems trite compared to what I just witnessed taking place on the internets.

Digg.com is a website where people vote on various internet things: Videos, news, pictures, stories, etc. Stuff that's getting lots of diggs moves up to the top of the list and ends up on the front page of Digg.com. It's got all sorts of weirdness and is probably one of the nerdiest, geekiest, funniest, meanest, mobocracies ever invented. It gets pretty crazy and might just well be a solid representation of who's actually out here on the internet the most and what they're doing.

One of the best things about it is that people can comment on the stories and even the comments can get diggs, up or down. There's a strong set of unspoken social rules that fall into place on sites like this and although I understand them enough to get what's going on, I usually keep my comments to myself cuz, I'm just not that funny and can't really contribute to the conversation well enough, but it sure is a blast to watch.

Tonight, someone put up a picture of a car that has the license plate "9 Diggs" on it and who ever posted it encouraged the crowd that this guy should get more than just 9 diggs (to get on the front page often requires several hundred to a few thousand). Good comments at the top of the comment list often hit 2-300 diggs. If it's a REALLY good pun on the story or something super appropriate, I've seen over a thousand diggs on the comment.

Tonight was the strangest anomaly I've ever seen. The picture has gotten over 4,500 diggs, but somehow, every comment got dugg up to 9. exactly. Someone started a trend, and everyone else hopped onto it. There's over 800 comments (typical is 50-100) and for a little bit, the first 60 had exactly 9 diggs and all the replies had 9 diggs, and all the replies to the replies had 9 diggs. Except for one guy who randomly said something and someone replied that he should get -9 diggs, then all of a sudden he had a lot more than -9, then someone suggested he should get -999 and everyone started working towards that and when I saw it he had -1016 and I'm sure there were a hundred people out there digging him up and down to get to -999.

The amazing thing to all this isn't the 9 diggs, but the fact that this mob, with no leadership, no organization, full of geeky anarchists and social deviants, managed to pull off this stunt without any real initiative, push, or direction. It just HAPPENED. And it wasn't perfect, some joker starts trying to throw the whole thing off by putting in his own diggs and then everyone tries to restore it and it has to settle back into "proper" form of uniform 9's. But a form took shape and the majority of the universe stuck with it, apparently randomly. The only loyalty to anything, or force that would accomplish this is a loosely held enjoyment of a good joke.

This is the kind of "spontaneous combustion" stuff that scientists scoff at due to the natural laws of disorder, chaos, and entropy. Now if it turns out there's some mastermind behind the scenes secretly guiding all this, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised, but without any hint at such, we have to assume that this just HAPPENED. I think its fantastically amazing and laughed for 5 minutes straight just seeing how long the joke went on, and on, and on, and on. I've been refreshing the page for 20 minutes just watching this play out and still laugh that it happened.

I guess if you want to laugh too, but don't really find this that funny, I'll just say: You had to be there.

The 9's had made it all the way to the end when I finally got there and threw my 2-bits in except for the last about, 9, or so (actually it was 11) and those were probably just too new to get up there yet. It's like an internets party or something. (I seriously need more of a life, like playing sloshball or something).

The Anti-blood-doper

I like a good challenge and while I may not appear very competitive, certain things get me going. School is a good challenge. Taking care of my family is a good challenge. Getting gold medals on G. Wars for the Wii is a challenge. And anytime some other person on a bike passes me on my way to or from school, THAT'S a straight up challenge and it is always good fun passing them or respectfully calling off my pursuit (which, in the rare time it happens, goes unknown to the challenger). There's one guy on a mountain bike with rear saddle bags covered in a yellow plastic poncho that is FAST. I've only seen him once, but he blew by me at an intersection and try as I might, the gap just got bigger. He's passed my friend and classmate, Lance, a couple times, to his frustration. There's some other guy I've seen ahead of me that I could never catch up to, but our paths are only the same for a few blocks.

Fixie riders aren't even a challenge, although they'd like to be. They try, but nope. Today I took it slow on the way home because I donated a double-count of blood. Normally you donate a pint, but most places also have a machine that filters out the blood cells and puts your plasma with some saline solution back in you. You lose no volume of blood, but you've lost 2 pints worth (not 2 pints) of oxygen-carrying red blood cells. I did that at school today, so I rode a slower pace home with Lance. Within a block, some chump on a fixie (with no helmet, like he's so cool and metro on his fixie that a helmet would cramp his style) passes by pedaling fast. I watch him tackle the first block up the hill on Sacramento St. and forget about it. We chug along, and up the second block, there he is WALKING his bike. Lolzorz. If only he knew that I don't change gears up that hill either, that would have made him feel really dumb! (If you can't tell, I'm trying to be funny......sort of LOL).

Having not lost any blood volume, I'm not worried about passing out or fainting, but I figured there's less oxygen getting to the muscles, so I'll get tired more easily. Woof. By the top of the neighborhood, my heart was burning and I was struggling for air and I didn't even go that fast. It was pretty cool actually. Lance pointed out it's like the opposite of blood-doping, where athletes illegally inject red blood cells into their veins to temporarily get more oxygen-carrying power. It also makes your blood thicker and your heart work harder to pump it all. Guys that do that are sissies. Real men take the RBC's OUT and do the same work, just purely for the challenge!


Here's some bike related pictures. I broke the big chainring on my bike a few weeks ago, the same way I broke the last one, but instead of bending, it snapped almost clean off. At the same intersection, too. Eerie, or I'm just CRAZY STRONG!!!!! They're not all bike related, but I like em anyways.

Nostalgia Tuesday

For a month I haven't been able to decide what to put on here, until today. After studying some general pathology I got inspired to look up a song I used to have in my old mp3 collection (which got lost when my old laptop died the first time). Here's you go for your enjoyments.

Movies

I was gonna put some sort of cool-sounding clever title, but I realized that'd be really cheesy and stereotypical for a blog, so I ditched the idea.

Em and I talked a while back about getting basic cable for our apartment. We only were paying for internet and DVD collection, and Emily and Grace were getting bored with the selection during the daytime (or Emily was getting bored of Grace's collection). We settled on a Netflix Account with two DVDs at a time plus all their online movies. It's been pretty good. Works well for all of us. With Hulu still hanging on with free watching, we're pretty set. And Netflix exposes us to all sorts of movies we've forgotten about or would never consider watching. Plus they have tons of Nick Jr and PBS kids shows on there for Grace to watch.

Here's my quick reviews of some of what we've watched lately:

Empire of the Sun- Christian Bale's first movie and he's a semi-pubescent teenager playing an English brat living in English neighborhoods in WWII China and getting separated from his parents and living in internment camps, etc. Cool, historical fiction but ends kinda weird and abrupt.

The Jane Austen Book Club-fun romantic movie. I'd probably get more out of it if I knew Northanger Abbey and the other one book they focus on but can't think of the title right now. Emily and I are in agreement that Grigg makes us both think of me, at least in personality. It's weird, but I dig it. Doesn't happen often where you see someone on screen that reminds you of yourself.

Step Up 2: The Streets-mostly cool with some cool dancing, mostly B-Boy crew type stuff, and contrived unbelievable ending. A large number of the cooler dance moves were Michael Jackson type moves, and it works well (the guy could move, more people should copy him). The main character reminds me a great deal of my youngest sister.

Speed Racer-this movie's just friggin' cool. Light-hearted, purposefully fun, bright eye-catching and appealing cinemotography and effects, with an amazing amount of extremely well-thought-out detail thrown into the more subtle aspects that make it awesome to watch. Like the side panels of the race course that turn into animations when the view points sideways, or the amazingly mind-blowing maneuvers Speed pulls off in the car that obviously required some genius choreography just to think of. It's like watching a full-on kung fu fight, but wait, they're in cars!

Beyond the Gates of Splendor-documentary about 5 American Christian missionaries living in the Amazon who get killed by a remote violent tribe in the 1950's and how their wives and kids end up teaching the tribe about the Bible, living with the tribe, and becoming family to this clan that had killed their husbands and fathers. Pretty cool. The documentary takes some work to follow the style of storytelling and for some reason it's listed as being 90 minutes long but was really only 40.

Peter and the Wolf-modern day, stop-motion, version of the story with the very familiar score and music. Won an oscar for best animated film. Only 30 minutes. Excellent, highly recommended. Not as kid friendly as the old Disney cartoon version. Grace and I watched both together and she very much liked the cartoon better.

Empire Records-I guiltily admit this was a really fun movie to watch. Deals with lots of teenage-high school-coming of age-figuring life out-having a good time stuff centered on the employees of a record store the day before it is going to be sold to a large chain franchise. It very much deserves its PG-13 rating, but is typical of what I remember about high school (or what I remember everyone else going through during high school).

Forever Strong-about Highland, UT Highland High School multi-championship rugby team. Em and I really liked it. Definitely worth a watch. A troubled rugby-player from Flagstaff gets sent to a juvenile detention center in Salt Lake, and gets a chance to practice with the Highland rugby team. He learns the "secrets" to their success and changes his own life to match his teammates before getting sent back home and having to take what he learned with him to permanently change his life for the better.

And to reward the patient few who read this far, here's a couple of pics for your trouble. One is of me learning to give local anesthesia on a classmate, the other I found on the web and thought it was a major WIN.