As covered in Wired more and more each day (their latest magazine has a large section on new radio phenomena if this is interesting to you), podcasting is gaining in popularity, which means that now next to no one listens to them.
This push-button radioing seems to do for sound what blogs are doing for words...which makes me interested in them right off the bat. If you have never heard of podcasting, it's where you record yourself, then make the recording available as a download for people to put on their ipods and listen to instead of NPR on their way to work.
Also, you may remember that I have more than a passing interest in radio as a medium for communication, fomented by my exposure to Northeast Public Radio, WAMC while living in Massachusetts. WAMC is so many things that contemporary radio is not, most importantly, part of the community. They spend inordinate amounts of time and energy producing amazing local shows that are broadcast throughout upstate New York and western Massachusetts, and licensed out to other public radio stations.
While working at Jacob's Pillow, my long commute allowed me to get to know their on-air personalities and find out about all sorts of random things I never knew I had an interest in, like local politics, or unheard-of books. My friend Jocelyn and I often talked about how we should start an advise show, where people could call in and we would tell them what to do. Obviously, we are naturally bossy, but more importantly, we're always right. Even when we disagree with each other. All of this adds up to great radio. After all, that's what great radio is all about! Conflict!
Of course, we didn't start a show, but we did get some great advise from my very dear friend, the radio and arts guru Philip Szporer, and we formulated much of what would go into making our show a huge success, at least in the middle of nowhere (hey, you've gotta start somewhere).
Which brings me back to podcasting: I have an interest in the medium, it's technologically interesting, and I am thinking of trying my hand at it. But, will anyone listen?! This is where you come in. Please post your comments at the end of this post, and let me know if you think I should go ahead and give podcasting a shot. Thanks for your advise.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Friday, February 18, 2005
"Converting" Dreams to Reality
My friend Mark's blog, Tales of the Sissy, has a post about owning a convertible that will be important for me read every once in a while. He has dreamed of having a convertible since he was a little kid.
Some people are just this way.
If you have never taken a ride in a convertible, you are really missing an experience. In college, my roommate Amy had a convertible 1970-something VW Cabriolet, and I had no car, so we did everything in that tin can. Hauling groceries was a nightmare, because of the tiny back seat, the wind was always biting cold when the top was down, except in August, when you just wanted to turn the A/C on, your hair was always a crumpled Halloween fright, often with smashed bugs in it, and did I mention that the top leaked? When it rained, she would line the floor with plastic bags, and when it snowed, a fine layer of ice would form inside the cab along the edge of the top.
It was hardly a "Pink Moon" time.
Amy grew to hate that car. It's four gear manual transmission was awful on long drives (and all drives in Wisconsin were long). Anything above 60, and you had to shout to be heard through the engine and wind noise. The trunk was laughable...you couldn't even fit a dead possum into it (see how I worked that in!?).
And I was stuck with this crap-ass vehicle by virtue of the fact that I had zero transport, so I had to be grateful to get a ride (for the record, I was grateful...there were just some really low moments).
All of which is to say that I'm none to excited about convertibles. They seem like more trouble than they're worth, and would be the guy who would never take the extra thirty seconds to put the top down, so the whole experience would be wasted on me.
Michael, however, is much like Mark: obsessed with getting a convertible. I'm not sure that Michael has pinned up a centerfold in his cubicle yet, but he definitely lusts after the youthful exuberance of messy hair. He was just getting to the point where he was getting excited about being able to actually get his dream car in the next year, when...we got engaged. As we started talking about how we would pay for it all, his hopes of getting a new car were dashed. It was the first negative thing he said about the whole idea of getting married.
He's really been a trooper: privately mourning the postponement of this milestone, while publicly putting up a good front. But, I know that it's still important to him.
So, I know that I should look over Mark's posting about the joy of convertibles, so that I can stay excited about Michael getting one, so he can stay excited about getting one, so we can make sure that it stays a priority in the grand scheme of things, because what's important to him is important to me, and it's important for us to be on the same page about these things, right?
That's what building a relationship is all about.
Some people are just this way.
If you have never taken a ride in a convertible, you are really missing an experience. In college, my roommate Amy had a convertible 1970-something VW Cabriolet, and I had no car, so we did everything in that tin can. Hauling groceries was a nightmare, because of the tiny back seat, the wind was always biting cold when the top was down, except in August, when you just wanted to turn the A/C on, your hair was always a crumpled Halloween fright, often with smashed bugs in it, and did I mention that the top leaked? When it rained, she would line the floor with plastic bags, and when it snowed, a fine layer of ice would form inside the cab along the edge of the top.
It was hardly a "Pink Moon" time.
Amy grew to hate that car. It's four gear manual transmission was awful on long drives (and all drives in Wisconsin were long). Anything above 60, and you had to shout to be heard through the engine and wind noise. The trunk was laughable...you couldn't even fit a dead possum into it (see how I worked that in!?).
And I was stuck with this crap-ass vehicle by virtue of the fact that I had zero transport, so I had to be grateful to get a ride (for the record, I was grateful...there were just some really low moments).
All of which is to say that I'm none to excited about convertibles. They seem like more trouble than they're worth, and would be the guy who would never take the extra thirty seconds to put the top down, so the whole experience would be wasted on me.
Michael, however, is much like Mark: obsessed with getting a convertible. I'm not sure that Michael has pinned up a centerfold in his cubicle yet, but he definitely lusts after the youthful exuberance of messy hair. He was just getting to the point where he was getting excited about being able to actually get his dream car in the next year, when...we got engaged. As we started talking about how we would pay for it all, his hopes of getting a new car were dashed. It was the first negative thing he said about the whole idea of getting married.
He's really been a trooper: privately mourning the postponement of this milestone, while publicly putting up a good front. But, I know that it's still important to him.
So, I know that I should look over Mark's posting about the joy of convertibles, so that I can stay excited about Michael getting one, so he can stay excited about getting one, so we can make sure that it stays a priority in the grand scheme of things, because what's important to him is important to me, and it's important for us to be on the same page about these things, right?
That's what building a relationship is all about.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Engaged, With Nary a Resource...
This past Valentine's weekend, I told Michael to keep his schedule clear, and that I was going to take him on a trip.
I stole him away to the Berkshires in western Massachusetts, where I used to live before I moved to Washington. We snowshoed in the morning, warmed up with some lunch, then headed up to the Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival grounds to snowshoe on their nature trails and woods.
Jacob's Pillow is the oldest continuous dance festival in the U.S., a huge 10-week international explosion of the best in dance, and where I spent several years as an intern, seasonal staff member, and full-time staffer. The work there is of the highest quality, and the people that work and visit there among the finest I have met anywhere. It's an old farm that was converted to a dance retreat in the 1930's. The original farm house dates from the 1790's, and many of the other buildings were built by the dancers themselves between rehearsals.
I brought Michael to the Inside/Out stage, an outdoor amphitheater where we used to look at the stars on clear nights. We clomped up the steps in our snowshoes, and looked out over the rolling hills. There was a gentle snowfall, and under the clear gray light of the afternoon, I started my loosely prepared speech. About six words in, I broke down crying, and had to take a minute to compose myself. My winter cap felt too tight. I couldn't see Michael clearly through the tears and tried, unsuccessfully, to blink them away. I wanted to rush to the end, but made myself breathe and asked him to marry me. He said yes.
I had deliberated for some time beforehand about what to give him when I proposed. An engagement ring isn't apropriate...men don't wear them. But, I wanted to give him something to commemorate the moment, and so he knew I had given the decision the appropriate heft and contemplation. So, I elicited the help of some close friends and family, scoured the internet, and talked to other gay couples, all to no avail. There is not one resource about gay marriage that addresses the emotional and spiritual needs of the couple getting married! There's plently of Q&As about the legality of said marraiges (in short, iffy), diatribes against said marriages, and lots of news articles rehashing the same information over and over. But, no one has recognized that gay weddings are going to keep happening, so we had better come up with some infrastructure to deal with them.
However, the good news about not having any resources was that I had to look to our own relationship, and the traditions that we've created, for inspiration. The first time we met, as we were leaving each other's company, and without knowing when we would see each other again, I gave him a small compass from my car. I wanted to give him something so he would know that I was serious and so that he would remember me. It was the only thing I could find, so I handed it to him saying that he could use it to find his way back to me.
So, as an engagement gift, I had a pocket compass engraved for him that reads, "May we always find our way together." He said later that the proposal was just what he expected, except the compass. That one surprised him.
Now, we find ourselves muddling through the idea of having a wedding that seems quite traditional to us, but even to some family and friends is a difficult idea to understand. There are some questions that people have right off the bat that temper the joy that we expected to hear when telling people. It's understandable, I guess, and we are trying to be very understanding in answering people's questions and helping them to be comfortable with the idea of 'us'.
I stole him away to the Berkshires in western Massachusetts, where I used to live before I moved to Washington. We snowshoed in the morning, warmed up with some lunch, then headed up to the Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival grounds to snowshoe on their nature trails and woods.
Jacob's Pillow is the oldest continuous dance festival in the U.S., a huge 10-week international explosion of the best in dance, and where I spent several years as an intern, seasonal staff member, and full-time staffer. The work there is of the highest quality, and the people that work and visit there among the finest I have met anywhere. It's an old farm that was converted to a dance retreat in the 1930's. The original farm house dates from the 1790's, and many of the other buildings were built by the dancers themselves between rehearsals.
I brought Michael to the Inside/Out stage, an outdoor amphitheater where we used to look at the stars on clear nights. We clomped up the steps in our snowshoes, and looked out over the rolling hills. There was a gentle snowfall, and under the clear gray light of the afternoon, I started my loosely prepared speech. About six words in, I broke down crying, and had to take a minute to compose myself. My winter cap felt too tight. I couldn't see Michael clearly through the tears and tried, unsuccessfully, to blink them away. I wanted to rush to the end, but made myself breathe and asked him to marry me. He said yes.
I had deliberated for some time beforehand about what to give him when I proposed. An engagement ring isn't apropriate...men don't wear them. But, I wanted to give him something to commemorate the moment, and so he knew I had given the decision the appropriate heft and contemplation. So, I elicited the help of some close friends and family, scoured the internet, and talked to other gay couples, all to no avail. There is not one resource about gay marriage that addresses the emotional and spiritual needs of the couple getting married! There's plently of Q&As about the legality of said marraiges (in short, iffy), diatribes against said marriages, and lots of news articles rehashing the same information over and over. But, no one has recognized that gay weddings are going to keep happening, so we had better come up with some infrastructure to deal with them.
However, the good news about not having any resources was that I had to look to our own relationship, and the traditions that we've created, for inspiration. The first time we met, as we were leaving each other's company, and without knowing when we would see each other again, I gave him a small compass from my car. I wanted to give him something so he would know that I was serious and so that he would remember me. It was the only thing I could find, so I handed it to him saying that he could use it to find his way back to me.
So, as an engagement gift, I had a pocket compass engraved for him that reads, "May we always find our way together." He said later that the proposal was just what he expected, except the compass. That one surprised him.
Now, we find ourselves muddling through the idea of having a wedding that seems quite traditional to us, but even to some family and friends is a difficult idea to understand. There are some questions that people have right off the bat that temper the joy that we expected to hear when telling people. It's understandable, I guess, and we are trying to be very understanding in answering people's questions and helping them to be comfortable with the idea of 'us'.
Monday, February 07, 2005
The Joy of the Library
I have to take a moment to give a shout out to all the libraries in the house.
I've been an avid fan of libraries for quite some time, but I have to single out the Arlington County Library as being second to none. I get my low- and high-culture fixes from them, totally for free, and I can reserve everything online.
Except multi-disc sets, like the whole first season of The West Wing or The Sopranos. You can only manually reserve the title as a whole, and the online system
doesn't distinguish the first disc in the series from the fourth.
So, you run into problems like seeing the first disc, reserving the second, and getting the third. Now you have a quandry: do you watch the third disc knowing that you'll have no clue as to what the continuing story lines are? Or do you return it and wait for the second one (which is, of course, checked out by someone who has yet to watch disc 1)?
The only way around this dilemma is to have the librarian place the holds themselves, where they can specify which disc in the series you're interested in. Of course, the librarians are quite harried and don't exactly have time to hold your hand as you try to catch up on the past four seasons of Alias. Can you blame them?
Also, I don't understand their 'only 3 DVDs at a time' rule, especially when no such rule exists for VHS. For a while, it made sense because they had quite a small collection of DVDs (but even thn they were getting duplicate stock of the same titles on both VHS and DVD). Now, though, they have an entire rack of DVDs at the branch that I go to, and bunches more at other branches. Their DVD collection is growing quite rapidly, and they keep claiming they're going to remove the restriction. Perhaps it's reasonable to expect someone to watch 3 or less DVDs per week, but I've never been known as emminently reasonable in the entertainment department.
I've been an avid fan of libraries for quite some time, but I have to single out the Arlington County Library as being second to none. I get my low- and high-culture fixes from them, totally for free, and I can reserve everything online.
Except multi-disc sets, like the whole first season of The West Wing or The Sopranos. You can only manually reserve the title as a whole, and the online system
doesn't distinguish the first disc in the series from the fourth.
So, you run into problems like seeing the first disc, reserving the second, and getting the third. Now you have a quandry: do you watch the third disc knowing that you'll have no clue as to what the continuing story lines are? Or do you return it and wait for the second one (which is, of course, checked out by someone who has yet to watch disc 1)?
The only way around this dilemma is to have the librarian place the holds themselves, where they can specify which disc in the series you're interested in. Of course, the librarians are quite harried and don't exactly have time to hold your hand as you try to catch up on the past four seasons of Alias. Can you blame them?
Also, I don't understand their 'only 3 DVDs at a time' rule, especially when no such rule exists for VHS. For a while, it made sense because they had quite a small collection of DVDs (but even thn they were getting duplicate stock of the same titles on both VHS and DVD). Now, though, they have an entire rack of DVDs at the branch that I go to, and bunches more at other branches. Their DVD collection is growing quite rapidly, and they keep claiming they're going to remove the restriction. Perhaps it's reasonable to expect someone to watch 3 or less DVDs per week, but I've never been known as emminently reasonable in the entertainment department.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Birth Tax
From Harry Reid's State of the Union rebuttal:
"Too many of the president's economic policies have left Americans and American companies struggling. And after we worked so hard to eliminate the deficit, his policies have added trillions to the debt - in effect, a 'birth tax' of $36,000 on every child that is born."
I think this is a great coinage of a term...this is one of the things that the democrats should work on doing more of: encapsulating the essence of a conversation in a way that has resonance for regular people. Republicans have done it time and again (most recently with the term, 'private accounts'), and it has proved quite effective in skewing debate. Talking about a 'birth tax' is just the kind of political tit for tat we need to see!
"Too many of the president's economic policies have left Americans and American companies struggling. And after we worked so hard to eliminate the deficit, his policies have added trillions to the debt - in effect, a 'birth tax' of $36,000 on every child that is born."
I think this is a great coinage of a term...this is one of the things that the democrats should work on doing more of: encapsulating the essence of a conversation in a way that has resonance for regular people. Republicans have done it time and again (most recently with the term, 'private accounts'), and it has proved quite effective in skewing debate. Talking about a 'birth tax' is just the kind of political tit for tat we need to see!
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