The weather outside is delightful. Raining, lightning, but the temps are balmy and the snow is melting away. Love it. Now seem to have an actual cold, which I do not understand, so am about to watch "A Scanner Darkly" and simply chill until Amy and I go out tonight for New Year's. Just doing dinner. I've never really liked News Year's or St. Pat's Day or Cinco de Mayo, etc. It always seemed like amateur night to me. People with no experience with excessive drinking climbing behind the wheel or getting into ill considered brawls.

It doesn't feel like a new year is coming anyway. It feels like we have more to go. The economy changed and we're going to be dealing with it for a long time.

Having said that, I'm hoping to make a list for myself of resolutions for the year. Some of them take.

Vacation

I have begun to wonder if one can read too much. I've had an unprecedented amount of time off over the holidays, and I'm closing in on four Philip K. Dick novels, various non-fiction books, the last couple New Yorkers, the last Atlantic Monthly and, because I am a sworn geek, the last five Detective Comics, which I have resumed now that they have dropped that stupid Batwoman/The Question arc. Please note the incredibly cool T-shirt Amy gave me for Christmas.

In the process, I've grown a beard, look like a slob, have gone to yoga three or four times a week, done tai chi, watched some television, including rewatching the three BBC "Sherlock" episodes and the first four--soon to be six after today--episodes of Breaking Bad. I've eaten great lashings of restaurant food, including some good Indian last night and some very over-hyped Mexican the night before. We went to Christkindlmarket and then saw A Christmas Carol at the Goodman Theatre on Christmas Eve. And we've seen "Black Swan" and "The King's Speech" and "True Grit." I have played XBOX and watched "Layer Cake," one of my favorite crime films.

I've slept too much, nearly thought myself into a coma, never quite shaken a cold, and--to my point about reading too much--found that the lines between fiction and real life can indeed blur around the edges a bit in the wee hours when in the midst of good, paranoid science fiction. I guess if one is willingly surrendering to a fictional dream with enough regularity and intensity, it only makes sense that the book or movie could either follow you into your own dreams or at least take a while to break out of when resuming mundane duties around the house, like taking out the dogs or doing dishes.

I suppose it has been good to completely attenuate for a while, and I have done some good, including hanging out more with Amy, house searching and keeping my appointments to teach ESL. And the yoga will pay dividends for a long time to come. But my point is that I'm ready for this vacation to be over so I can go back to work.

I actually have more than two weeks off now, with the exception of a meeting or two I have to drop in on.

Am unsure what to do with myself other than read too much. We are going to 127 Hours with James Franco today. Should be fun.

Otherwise, I'm hoping to pick up all of my stuff that I've cluttered the house with.

Excitement city. We do hope to run downtown a couple of times this week.

Breaking Bad

During a less than arduous one-credit “science course” in college, I wrote a paper about the Lindbergh kidnapping and its ramifications on forensic evidence. I honestly don't remember if it had any; German carpenter Bruno Hauptmann was convicted of first degree murder of the Lindbergh child based in large part on his possession of several thousand in gold certificates that had been fruitlessly paid in ransom by the family and traced back to him.

What stuck in the back of my mind until the other day was the trial testimony of a carpenter who connected Hauptmann’s carpentry on the makeshift ladder used in the kidnapping. I believe he identified the handiwork with some contempt, citing it as crude or shoddy work and implying that anyone who would kidnap and murder a three-year-old would of course be a poor craftsman, his every gesture symptomatic of being a deviant.

So what happens when a very good man, a man of strong mind and excellent education and indefatigable work ethic, were to apply all of his skills to a criminal activity? That is one of the questions posed by the AMC series Breaking Bad, in which a mild high school chemistry teacher learns he is dying of lung cancer and, in an effort to leave his wife, son and unborn child something, turns to cooking meth.

It's brilliant, full of gut surprises and subtle character pivots. You come to realize that he might have other choices, but he proceeds anyway rather than suffer his family being taken care of by anyone else. It's my new favorite show. AMC has started over from the beginning of the first season (I think there are four seasons now) on Wednesday nights, so I'm only watching two at a time.

Undead

The scariest movie experience I ever had was flipping on the television at 2 a.m. when I was 16 just as Night of the Living Dead came on A&E (this was before A&E was a trash station). Entranced, fixated, frozen, riveted, horrified into stillness, I don't think I blinked for two hours. I've seen scarier movies and better horror movies, but I intersected with this one at just the right time of night with enough caffeine and nicotine in my system to keep me awake and mildly jangled.

I've never seen any of the other Romero movies, though I think I will now that I'm watching AMC's new series The Walking Dead. It is awesome, gory goodness with great actors and thoughtful suspense. And they make it clear that anyone can die at any time. It does owe a lot to shows that kind of drive me nuts (Lost, the new V, Heroes) in terms of disparate ordinary people thrown together in the face of weird times, but the actors in this show make it. Definitely up there as a good solid drama. I am a fan of the 28 Days and 28 Weeks films as well as Shawn of the Dead.

This is a link to a NYTimes article about the zombie phenom.

It's Thanksgiving. I'm in Palmyra. We're eating around 1 p.m.

Watching Macy's Day Parade, now with Ron and his brother Monroe and Amy.

Getting hungry.

I am making the cornbread casserole.

I love cornbread casserole.

Getting old. Getting cool stuff.

So I made a haul on good books this year for my birthday. My father sent me The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes (all three volumes as edited by Leslie Klinger). They virtually glow. I started reading Volume 1 on my trip last weekend. I don't think I've read several of these stories since Dad read them too me. I have a distinct memory of have The Dancing Men read to me on the bus.

Dad also sent me The Refiner's Fire, by John Lee Brooke, a history of the making of Mormom Cosmology from 1644 to 1844 published by Cambridge Press. I'm about half way through this one. Beyond his dispassionate but keenly interested account of the many influences culminating in Joseph Smith's "visions," it's a lovely marriage of good, thorough academic research combined with graceful writing, craftsmanship that can be appreciated for its own sake. I've had an interest in this subject ever since visiting my brother in Salt Lake and going to see the startlingly bizarre and fascinating Gilgal Sculpture Garden.

Amy surprised me with the Library of America three-volume set of Phillip K. Dick novels. Most people probably know him best for Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, on which Blade Runner was based. The only novel I've read by him was Confessions of a Crap Artist, not a sci fi novel but one I liked very much. He's been an author I've been saving for a good period. Now that the election is over, I'd say I've hit that period.

A little earlier this week, Amy and I went to the Museum of Science and Industry to see the Muppet Exhibit. The Muppet exhibit was not what I'd hoped, though they had several drawings and posters by a young Jim Henson. I loved those. I realized that I knew very little about him. I was hoping for more actual puppet exhibits. I adore Muppets. I actually had more fun seeing museum's standing exhibits like the train above.

A little time off

Well, we won. Six months of hard work paid off.

So I took a couple of days off from work. I ended up going back in for a while on one of the days, and today have a project that I can't put off, but in the middle of this, we did go to a very pleasant bed and breakfast in Rockton near the Wisconson border. Loved it and would recommend it to anyone. Lovely people and glorious breakfasts.

During our stay, we went to the Anderson Japanese Garden. It was bare but not yet wintery, so I don't think we saw it at its most pleasant, but it was still very nice. There is certainly something to the harmony these gardens create.

Local Writers

So I read an article this morning about a bookstore in Forest Park specializing in mysteries, histories and biographies, celebrating its 20th anniversary. So early this afternoon, Amy and I are on the way to Forest Park to visit Centuries and Sleuths.

It's a comfortable bookstore that doesn't overwhelm you with sheer volume. I can only speak for myself, but when I walk into Powell's, particularly the one in Portland, I spend half my time in a panic that I won't see it all. My own goal was to to get something by one of the many Chicago Crime writers dubbed "The Outfit." This is a blog they operate. The nice lady working the shop steered me into Chicago Blues, a collection of hard boiled short stories by several of them. Looking forward to it.

We had brunch after at Francesca Fiore. Sausage. Eggs. Good stuff.

The Last Exorcism

I took Amy to see The Last Exorcism. A likable fundamentalist preacher is making a documentary about how he has faked exorcisms for the past 20 years by taking a camera crew with him to his "last exorcism." He shows how he arranges for sound effects and how he uses fishing line to pull over vases and pictures. He hasn't lived a sham so much as his faith has changed, and he has a strong belief in the science that recently saved his son's life. The only hitch is that for the first time, he seems to have run up against the real thing.

I mean that's great! I was delighted with the concept and execution with (as the critics I like are saying) the exception of the last two or three minutes.

Guys who like food

When I was in high school a good friend and I wrote a food column in the school paper called "Two Guys Who Like Food." It was a fantastic excuse to leave school and eat. It was a lot of fun. Scott has had his own part-time photography business for several years now.

Now Amy and I are going to be doing a cool secret shopper gig for a good restaurant chain in the area, necessitating weekly detailed reviews. We went to our orientation this evening downtown. It's going to be an excellent learning experience, if anything. Pretty psyched.

Salt

Horrible insults came to mind while watching the movie Salt today. "Even those who've suffered head injuries deserve to enjoy spy films," that kind of thing. Bottom line, it was deeply stupid with a "twist" so obvious it felt at times I was watching a satire.

On to something neat, though. A friend of Amy's has a neat blog using Hipstamatic (the iPhone application) that's very worth checking out http://prettykitty03.blogspot.com/.

Dinner/Breakfast

We did go to Wildfire last night for dinner in Oakbrook. I would give the experience a 5.5 out of 10. Part of this is our fault in that we thought we were going to a slightly quieter more intimate and upscale setting. It was instead fairly loud, albeit comfortable. The food was fine. It was neither the best nor worst steak I have had. Our server was either a little harried or just not overly pleasant. I'm sure he's a nice guy or could have been having a bad day, but he did not check back appropriately or provide that sort of warmth that can tip the scales when deciding whether the place is to be recommended.

I ordered a rib eye, rare, encrusted with horseradish with a sweet potato. They did cook it properly, but I found the horseradish to be devoid of flavor and gave the dish a greasiness I hadn't anticipated. Amy had three fillet medallions, each encrusted with something different (blue cheese, potato, etc.). She liked two out of three. Our deserts were fine. The coffee I found weak or thin. The prices were more reasonable than expected. I don't mean to knock the place too much. Many people I know seem to like it. I think it's not necessarily for a "foodie," not that I claim to be one, and it would be a good place to take a undiscriminating group for a friendly time, as opposed to an anniversary dinner.

To be honest, I think we had a much better meal that morning at Labriola Bakery. Very good food, comfortable lighting and a gentle din of kitchen and diners that allows the still tired to read their Saturday paper in peace. I had a Toad in the Hole and Amy had a breakfast sandwich. We would have probably been just as happy going there last night. They too have pizza from a wood burning oven, and it's quite good.

Thank God this week is over

After a fun work week, I now have much of Saturday to kick back a little before Amy and I go out for our 2nd anniversary. We're going to Wildfire in Oakbrook, which friends have mentioned to me multiple times, but we've never gone. I am told they have a horseradish encrusted steak that I would like. I'm pretty good about not eating meat except when we go out. Then all bets are off, I guess.

I've been steadily making my way through Diarmaid MacCulloch's "Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years." It's a long one, and I've been taking it slowly. Fascinating stuff. It's a good one for the Kindle for a few reasons. 1) It's about 1200 pages, which is a bear if you like to read in bed. Unlike my dad, I cannot lay a book on a table and read that way. Even when I do use a counter or a bar, I have to use a wire book stand to hold it upright. 2) It's such a well worded thing that I've underlined much of it, which, if you have handwriting like Charlie Brown, is much neater to do with the Kindle.

I still have Philip Kerr's latest waiting for me, but I haven't really found the time to do that one. I'm now saving it for our trip down to see Amy's new niece next weekend in Missouri.

Bonzai Show

We stopped in at the Arboretum Bonsai show. Fascinating to talk with some of the experts. We also met a local maker of bonsai tables.

Bridgeport through an iPhone

Kimball

There are not a lot of people teaching martial application for Tai Chi, which is a shame, because it can be very powerful. This is a short section of a form as executed by Paul Kimball in Bridgeport. I shot it with my iPhone, so it's not terribly clear, but it's clear enough. Note any lack of unnecessary flourish. Health club practitioners wouldn't get into it.

Visiting the master

Today, make the drive to Bridgeport for an advanced tai chi lesson. I'm not an advanced tai chi guy, but the teacher certainly is. My tai chi has been on minimal life support for the past year, so I'm hoping this might kick it into gear a bit. I may be alone in this, but I happen to like the south side. It's far more interesting that the burbs. Not saying I'd want to have my wife there, but I like visiting on my own.

Friday off

Today was a little rough. Someone the other day smashed my right rear car door, smearing it with their red paint, and then fled without leaving a note. I hate those people. This is the same as reaching into someone's wallet and extracting $500. After dealing with my insurance agency and determining that it would be better to just pay for it myself, I threw my bike on the back of the car and headed to the Arboretum where I pedaled in 90 degree heat for an hour. I go to Bridgeport tomorrow for some authentic tai chi. Looking forward to it.

Napping: the poor man's opera

LA Theatre Works

I've been periodically listening to LA Theatre Works, which produces radio plays. I've listened to Oscar Wilde's An Ideal Husband, Shadowlands and a play about Frank Lloyd Wright called Work Song. Most recently, I listened to Top Secret, a play about the legal battle between the Washington Post and the Nixon Administration over the Pentagon Papers. Some of these have been pretty good.

I grew up with a weird bent toward radio drama and comedy. I've met people my age or younger who are hooked on old radio, and they're equally odd. I've since gone back and listened to several comedies only to discover that they were surprisingly bad. They did not trust America to get good humor and relied on some pretty hokey stuff. The format is good for drama, though, and some episodes of "Suspense" are positively terrifying. Radio leaves more to the imagination.

What easily breaks radio's fictional dream is awkward but necessary exposition to make up for not being able to see what the actors are physically doing and where they are. So a skillful weekly show like LA Theatre Works is most welcome to me. It uses great actors and focuses on some pretty interesting scripts, though Top Secret was more of a heavy handed re-enactment than a play. The ending to me was too obviously ripped from The Cain Mutiny in which the attorney who represents the heroes of the story then drunkenly admonishes them for being too delighted with their victory, warning them them of unconsidered consequences.

These things are great for the iPod and for playing in the car. Even if you have short commutes, like me, it's amazing how much time we spend in the car. You can get through an unabridged novel in a week or so.

coyote

There is a split second between experiencing a surprise and contemplating it when everything slows down and I am of one mind. When fishing, it's just as a living thing strikes the other end of my line. When driving it's when a Chevy Suburban does a 720 across four lanes of black ice right in front of me on the way to the Kansas City Airport. Since I am never of one mind, I relish these milliseconds of clarity perhaps more than most. This morning it was a coyote. A sly looking 35 pounds of sallow brown fur and teeth. Amy had told me there was one skulking around the other day, which may be why my own surprise on stepping out the front door with the dogs was so brief.

We followed him at a distance of 30 yards or so. He showed a disconcerting lack of concern over the suburbanite and his soft dogs. Crumley and Iris pulled on their leashes and showed hackles and all of that, but they were quiet about it. I don't know if their lack of usual bravado betrayed an uneasiness with actually catching up with a wild thing or if they were reverting a more primal silent running. Or maybe it was simply curiosity.

He finally slipped between two townhouses and we resumed our walk. Later as I ate half a grapefruit and read the Sun-Times, Crumley let out three booming barks and I looked up through the patio door to see the same coyote trotting through the backyard. It makes sense. They're resourceful and found everywhere from Alaska to South America to Central Park. The Western Suburbs has millions of rabbits and squirrels, and we're near multiple forest preserves. It was fairly early so it's possible he'd been out night hunting and had gotten far away from his den and was now attempting to find his way back. I know these townhouses all look exactly the same to me.

Another Good Friday

We took Friday to go downtown again this week. We started with lunch at Frontera Grill. If you get there about 20 minutes before they open at 11:30 a.m., you can get a table right away when they open. I had a duck that was to die for. Amy had pork tacos that were incredible. We've eaten at all three of Rick Bayless' restaurants located there--all astounding--but this is my favorite. I can eat that guy's food until I'm hospitalized.

We then went to the Field Museum, where they are celebrating the 10th anniversary of their Tyrannosaurus, Sue. I had been there another time for a fundraising ball, but I didn't realize how great the place was until Amy and I went yesterday. We took our time--which I normally hate to do--and saw just about every bit of the place. It's a very old school, Teddy Roosevelt natural history museum with thousands of mind blowing examples of taxidermy, much of it from the 19th century and early 20th. In fact, most of it seemed to be done before 1935, but they are so well preserved that they still look very much alive. I'll include a few here along with another of my choppy videos of the robot dinosaurs (which were actually very cool in person; they had motion detectors that allowed you to incense the robots).

Messing around

iPhone sucks in that it is really great. I love messing around with it. About the same time we paid a pound of flesh for the Canon, I paid about $4 for an iPhone app called Hipstimatic that takes prematurely aged pictures, complete with 70s flares, etc. It's fun. This first, as an example, is exactly how a bar used to look to me at about 2 a.m.. (It's actually at Piece in Wicker Park last week.) The next two I snapped while waiting for Amy to get ready for her friend Dorian's wedding. The last is one of infinite times I have annoyed my wife.

Arboretum and the end of my weekend

I don't really care for these steel root sculptures, but there is something Lovecraftian about them. Amy and I went to the Arboretum today and messed around for a bit before going to the mall in Oak Brook, which is my favorite. I played with the camera, and Amy was very patient. I really need to sign up for a camera class and begin figuring out the other 99.9999 percent of how this things works.