Brothers

My sister sent me this video of Bryn and Stephen being brothers and I couldn't help but put it to super awesome music.  I bet they're going to be singing this song all night tonight.

but it was raining

I gave Stephen a blank pop up book for his sixth birthday.  Here's an excerpt from his seminal work.


ONCE THERE WAS A SMALL HOUSE THEN WAS A CAT A DOG A MONKEY?!
BUT IT WAS RAINING

We've started roving today

Curiosity touched down in the crater now called "Bradbury Landing" on August 5, and started driving today.  The news brief at JPL opened with this clip of Ray Bradbury reading his poem "If Only We Had Taller Been" in 1971.  He had been invited to participate in a symposium at Caltech on the eve of Mariner 9 going into orbit around Mars.

IF ONLY WE HAD TALLER BEEN

The fence we walked between the years
Did balance us serene;
It was a place half in the sky where
In the green of leaf and promising of peach
We’d reach our hand to touch and almost touch the sky,
That blue that was not really blue.
If we could reach and touch, we said,
‘Twould teach us, somehow, never to be dead.

We ached, we almost touched that stuff;
Our reach was never quite enough.
So, Thomas, we are doomed to die.
O, Tom, as I have often said,
How sad we’re both so short in bed.
If only we had taller been,
And touched God’s cuff, His hem,
We would not have to slip away and go with them
Who’ve gone before,
A billion give or take a million boys or more
Who, short as we, stood tall as they could stand
And hoped by stretching thus to keep their land,
Their home, their hearth, their flesh and soul.
But they, like us, were standing in a hole.

O, Thomas, will a Race one day stand really tall
Across the Void, across the Universe and all?
And, measured out with rocket fire,
At last put Adam’s finger forth
As on the Sistine Ceiling,
And God’s great hand come down the other way
To measure Man and find him Good,
And Gift him with Forever’s Day?
I work for that.

Short man, Large dream. I send my rockets forth between my ears,
Hoping an inch of Will is worth a pound of years.
Aching to hear a voice cry back along the universal Mall:
We’ve reached Alpha Centauri!
We’re tall, O God, we’re tall!

Frame grab from Kevin Flynn's seminal interview with Connor and Madeleine Flynn about their favorite thing about grandpa.

my dad

Working on the family project this weekend.  Here's my dad, being a slacker.

little flynns

Maddie trying to be the star of the show. Connor looking bored in the back. 

shamone

It's Friday, the weather's perfect, surf's good, and I'm hanging out with the lil ones tomorrow morning at Descanso Gardens.

right now, I'm all I'm all

Happy Friday

Some serious cuteness from almost four years ago.  Nephews, niece, and big sis.  I put that rocker headband (Noreen's scarf) on Stephen.

on boulder :: on belay

Easily the best Valentine I've ever gotten.

Hey Bryn, don't worry about the missing apostrophe.  We all know what a good speller your mom is..

Kites, WWF, nephews

The fam visited on Saturday. Farmer's Market goodies, pro wrestling, body surfing, flying kites, and swimming at sunset were all parts of the equation. Hit play below for a soundtrack for the pics. Just ignore the "oui, plus fort [and sexy time sounds]" part at the end. naughty, naughty Brigitte.

Stoney Point doc

An independent filmmaker is making a documentary on Stoney Point, the climbing spot I've started going to with my brother in law Chris, who, coincidentally, you can see at the 2:05 point of this clip (british accent). I was sitting just to the right of frame during his interview. I think you can hear me mouth breathing.

Stoney Point: Portrait of an American Crag - extended teaser from Half Circle G Productions on Vimeo.

Big Bear Weekend Part IV

It's Friday! And I'm leaving it all behind when I drive up to the cabin tonight. Here are a few pics from our first trip up. This time, we'll even have electricity and everything.

The Last Jungle Gym

My four nephews/niece decided I was a jungle gym this weekend.

Connor wanted to play The Last Airbender, which he only knows from the TV campaign that we happened to work on here at Aspect. He knew every character ("Madeleine, you can be Katara, Sokka's sister."), every important plot point ("The Fire Nation banned The Earth Kingdom from bending earth."), the action moves with accompanying sound effects ("pphshheww hhhhwwwaaaaap!" *visuals below), and even some of the copy we wrote into the spots ("There is only one who can master ALL the elements."). I am brainwashing my nephews.

It cracks me up that my parents still cover their "new" (it's got to be 15 years old by now) couch with bed sheets. I actually don't even notice it when I'm there.

little gestures

My mom sent me this picture of a glass full of cherries in our backyard that my dad surprised her with this weekend. Her 'first cherries of Spring 2010'. They've been married for 45 years.

Veggies

Tomorrow is another Silverlake Farms CSA pickup. The last time around, my mom and I went to my sister Noreen's house where she, Bryn and Stephen helped us cook.

Stephen loves capes (and as of that Saturday morning, we now know he loves tempeh marinated in Braggs) and Bryn loves my iPhone. After the last leaf of baby bok choy was sauteed, we downloaded the Monkey Flight app and I passed out. That last picture is what it looks like when you go out Friday night, wake up at 7:30 the next morning, and cook for four hours.

Side note: We tried this simple baked kale recipe I ran across on smitten kitchen. So good.

Nice and Easy Does It

I saw this strongly worded letter from Frank Sinatra to a writer with the Chicago Daily News on Selectism. It reminded me of a story my dad tells me about when he was with Associated Press in the 1960s.

AP sent him to Las Vegas to start a bureau. It was him, and only him. He was assigned to interview Frank about something not very pleasant. He's never said exactly what it was, but it wasn't his new hit record, nor his good reputation. Probably more something like tax evasion or a run in with the Vegas police. So, anyways, my dad met with Frank for breakfast in a small cafe at The Sands Hotel, not one of the big rooms. As you can see in the letter below, Frank didn't take too kindly to journalists. My dad asked the wrong question, pushed a little too hard, and Frank took exception. None other than Dean Martin, sitting in a booth just across the way, calmly walked over and diffused the situation. Seemed like old hat to him. My dad doesn't remember exactly what Dean said, but he made light of it for both an irritated Frank and an uneasy dad.