Automatic Car Wash

Almost a week ago I noticed that my car, which was parked under a tree, had suddenly become covered in bird poop.  Not a small quantity or a light speckling, but a full-on Jackson Pollock-style assault.  The depth and coverage was almost artful.  But still kinda gross.  Somehow for the next six days I did not have a chance to wash the poor thing.  We had a bit of rain one day that washed away some of the mess, but my car was still far from presentable.  Yesterday I swung by a gas station with an automatic car wash, but it was out of order.  Today I finally could take it no longer, and sought out another automated car wash.  It was, as always, a glorious adventure.  Automatic car washes are perhaps extravagant, but they give you the childlike sensation of being on a magical voyage through a foamy sea.  There is water everywhere and you can't see out the windows, and there are loud noises that approach and retreat.  The car even shakes a bit from the water pressure.  And then, in no time at all, you roll away in a car that's sparkling clean.  Pretty great.  Of course, about two minutes after I emerged from the car wash, a torrential downpour began.  Oh well.  I'm sure that stuff was caked on good enough that it needed something more than rain to get it all off.  It's just like two car washes for the price of one.  What a steal!

Visions of the Future

When I daydream about the future, my visions are pretty individualized: imagining the person I will settle down with and where we'll live, imagining the career I'd like to have down the road, imagining the book deal I'll get from some publishing executive who is smitten with my duck blog--you know, the usual.  But I love that some people think much more broadly in their visions of the future, unconstrained by what seems plausible or even desirable.  And that's how we ended up with The Jetsons, with their robot maids and flying cars and people-moving tubes high in the stratosphere.  It amuses me greatly that so many people decide that in the future we will all want to wear Spandex jumpsuits with boldly asymmetrical, brightly-colored designs.  I mean, I would totally be all over that for a day or two, but I'm sure the thrill would wear off pretty quickly.  Anyway, I've got to go watch the Oscars, so that's all for tonight!

Blogging Process

So, this is how I make a blog post for Unorthoducks.

First I draw a duck.  I use low-tech tools like printer paper and black gel pens.  Though I think it would be fun sometimes to post drawings made with charcoal on rocks, or with sticks in the dirt.

 Then I take a picture of the drawing with my phone . . .

 . . . and I email it to myself.

 Because I don't want this to become a big production, my phone photos are usually poorly lit and need some editing.  In the freeware image-editing program, the GIMP, I crop the photos and adjust the black levels until I have a more-or-less black-and-white picture instead of something with a blue or gray background.  Then I save the resulting picture as a JPEG and try to get it close to 66k.  Why?  No particular reason, but I tried that once and it looked fine, so I kept going.  The idea is mostly to keep the image sizes pretty small (except for this image-heavy post) so that they blog will load quickly and not bog down readers.

 Then I log onto Blogger, upload the image, and write a little something about it.

 Then I post the whole kit and caboodle . . .

 . . . and lean back to bask in the glow of another successful blog post!

Thanks for reading, y'all!

Watches

Watches are symbols of so much that I love and hate.  They stand for that darned American ethos of punctuality.  Time is money.  "I'll meet you at 10:15 a.m." instead of "I'll meet you in the morning."  Luxury watches stand for excess, waste, superfluity, and confused values.  But they're also really neat.  They stand for precision and craftsmanship, for ingenuity and creativity and beauty.  They're tiny miracles you can wear on your wrist.  Even the precision and reliability of a $5 digital watch is practically beyond comprehension.  Wristwatches are engines of awe.  And they're sources of comfort.  Not only because they let you relax when you're running early, but because they are your constant companion, a reassuring familiarity in the midst of the unknown that life brings each day.  When I was a child I had many digital watches, including one that played something like twelve different alarms, one of which was Dixie.  I bought it from a mail-order advertisement in a newspaper, and loved fooling with its many functions.  I remember a brief trend around that time of people wearing two, three, or more watches on their arms, just for fashion's sake.  This was probably the same time that Flava-Flav opted for a slightly more prominent timepiece.  For years I wore analog watches, finally retiring my last one for everyday wear because it was too heavy, and because the child in me longed for the comforting beeps and boops of a digital watch.  That's what I've got now, and it's on that watch that I press the snooze button every morning when the alarm goes off, hoping to buy myself just a little more time.

Used Bookstores

Walking into a used bookstore and browsing is a singular pleasure.  Time drops away as you meander among the too-close shelves, inhaling the musty perfume of volume upon volume of forgotten lore.  Treasures await around every turn, behind every copy of the Compleat Idiot's guide to Volkswagen repair and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  Instructions for new activities and philosophies of life, recipes, maps of far-off lands.  Sometimes there are even vinyl records of bands you'd forgotten you liked.  They're extra-special on rainy days.  As a young person, used bookstores afford the chance to read things your parents wouldn't want you to see, while cloaked in the guise of respectable intellectualism.  Used bookstores are a bargain-priced gateway to exotic worlds, the panacea for latter-day technological overload.  There's always something interesting, and always the chance to escape from mundane concerns in a cozy afternoon among the shelves.

Facial Hair

Facial hair can be groomed into such interesting configurations, it seems a shame to just shave it all off.  Now shaving can be a pleasure all its own, but I seem to always come back to a beard.  I have had sideburns, a goatee, sideburns AND a goatee at the same time (I felt very Nashville), and even just a mustache (it lasted maybe 18 hours).  Part of the appeal is having something on my face to stroke thoughtfully while I mull things over.  My beard keeps my chin warm and wards off sunburn and pimples, and I like to think it makes me look more rugged.  Or at least more like a lumberjack, which I guess amounts to the same thing.  Plus, it's perfect for when I finally start that band I've been thinking about--I'm all set to jump on the beard-rock bandwagon!

DVD Box Sets

Maybe what I really mean to say here is TV series on some kind of media that let you watch as many episodes as you want at one sitting.  For so many of us, it's a slightly guilty pleasure to curl up on the couch with some hot tea or a beer and dive into the other worlds that flicker and glow on the TV screen.  Movies are fun, but TV shows that are really good can be so much more satisfying--it's like comparing a short story to an epic novel: both have their merits, but when you want to be absorbed for a long time, you go with the novel.  The characters have plenty of room to breathe and grow and change, to make mistakes and redeem themselves, to mourn to struggle and to celebrate.  There are wrenching moments and cathartic ones.  In the best cases, TV series can inspire self-reflection and even growth.  Some I have held dear over the years (some for many seasons and others for just a few episodes--and they haven't all inspired deep thoughts) have been Doctor Who, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Dawson's Creek, M*A*S*H, A Different World, ER, Early Edition, Ugly Betty, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Batman the Animated Series, and recently the original British version of Skins.  And probably a fair few that are slipping my mind right now.  I love the moment when I hear the first familiar strains of the theme music and the title credits begin to roll.  I lean back, get comfortable, and get ready to be transported.

Relieving News

You know when you're worried about something, anxious about how it will turn out?  When you finally hear the outcome, and it's good news, there's no better feeling.  The weight of a thousand pounds has been lifted from your shoulders.  The sun shines more brightly, the air is crisper, the birds are singing.  Life takes on a new vigor.  Well, my friend had an experience like that recently, and this post is for him.  Good news is good news, but when you think it might be bad news and it's good instead?  Well, that's absolutely great news.

Taco Trucks

This evening I passed a taco truck and was surprised and pleased to see a line of people waiting to order, even though it was almost 11 on a Sunday night.  Taco trucks are very popular in these parts, and rightly so.  My parents remember when you couldn't even find tortillas in grocery stores here, and now there are taco trucks patrolling night and day.  It brings tears of joy to me eyes.  I'm not saying all taco trucks are created equal, but when you find a really good one, the food is excellent, the prices are reasonable, and the proprietors are friendly.  There are few things in the world that satisfy the soul on so many levels as a hot taco from a truck in the nighttime.  When you're so hungry, and maybe you've just come from a concert or a conversation that blew your mind wide open, and the stars are spinning in the sky, and you bring a foil-wrapped tortilla to your mouth, and salsa starts to run down your arm, all is right with the world.

Planting Plants

This afternoon I helped my sister plant a small, yellow, winter jasmine bush.  It was beautiful weather--the sun was shining, there was a slight breeze, and it was just cool enough that I didn't get all sweaty from digging a hole.  There's something that feels very significant about planting things.  Participating in the circle of life and all that.  It's also relatively easy, with an immediate reward.  After probably twenty minutes, we were able to step back and see the results of our work.  Nowadays I don't grub around in the dirt as much as I once did, and I was reminded today of how satisfying it can be.  My hands, covered in dried Carolina clay, looked like elephants' skin.  My muscles felt loose.  And the jasmine bush looks very pretty.

Crazy Exercise Machines

I gather that back in the day, like the 1950s, people had some pretty crazy ideas about how they could lose weight and stay in shape.  Like the fat-jiggler machine.  I don't know what to say, but it kinda looks like fun!  Then again, I don't want to get all high and mighty about how far we've come, because this is after all the age of the oh-so-suggestive Shake Weight.  Got to run to go see one of my favorite bands, Schooner, play tonight in Raleigh, so that's all for today.  Have a good night!

Leaving Work Early

I enjoy my job overall.  Nevertheless, the opportunity to leave early on occasion fills me with a giddy joy that is probably disproportionate to the free time I've gained.  I guess it feels like I'm getting away with something, walking out the door into the sunlight and fresh air while my coworkers are still hunched at their desks.  Getting out of work even a couple of hours early makes me supremely happy.  I always have big plans for the time I've gained, but invariably spend it doing things of little consequence.  No matter.  It's still a lovely bonus.  I don't know if I would enjoy leaving work early if it were the way things worked normally, but I think we as a country would be much happier if our work days ended around 3 p.m.

Really Great Sandwiches

I love a really great sandwich.  There is a limitless variety of tasty sandwiches in the world, and it is fun to experiment with the options.  It's interesting that if you get two people, their ideas of what constitutes the best sandwich ever will be different, sometimes subtly and other times radically.  A sandwich is so simple, yet so deeply satisfying.  It's got everything in one handy package--protein, veggies, sauces, bread.  A sandwich that I love is thinly sliced roasted chicken (the kind you can prepare at home, not the extra-thin, deli-sliced kind), roasted red peppers, red onion, lettuce, balsamic vinegar, red wine vinegar, olive oil, oregano, and ground black pepper on a sourdough roll.  On Valentine's Day (coincidentally, not in particular observance thereof) I enjoyed a sandwich with the ingredients at hand: marbled cheddar cheese, sardines canned in tomato sauce, pickled jalapeños, roasted peppers, lettuce, and hot sauce on wheat bread.  I can't say the flavors necessarily went together, but the contrast between smooth roasted peppers, creamy cheese, crunchy jalapeños, and crispy lettuce kept my tongue most entertained.  What's your favorite sandwich?  (The finger-shaped shadows at the bottom of this picture are, not surprisingly, my fingers.  I used the photo anyway as part of my drive to focus more on consistent posts than perfection.  It's very freeing.)

Funny-shaped Electric Guitars

Since I first picked up an electric guitar at age thirteen, I have been smitten with the instrument in ways that I can't explain to anyone but fellow devotees without sounding seriously, unhealthily obsessive.  I love everything about the electric guitar--the solidity; the feel of wood, lacquer, metal, and plastic; its smooth curves; its balance in my arms; the incredible range of sounds that can be coaxed and wrenched from the instrument.  One of the things that makes the electric guitar so interesting to me is the nearly limitless range of shapes in which it can be made.  An acoustic guitar needs to follow certain design parameters because its shape directly determines its ability to amplify the sound of the strings.  But an electric guitar relies on magnetic pickups and amplifiers for this, so it is freed to take on any shape you can imagine.  There are too many examples to mention, but some models of note are the Gibson Explorer and Flying V; the Ibanez Destroyer, Iceman, Xiphos, and JEM; the Peavey Mantis and Vandenberg; the B.C. Rich Mockingbird and Eagle; and of course custom guitars made for Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick (some with up to five necks on one instrument) and Billy Gibbons of Z.Z. Top (have you seen the white furry guitar?).  It's safe to bet this will not be my last post on the electric guitar--it's a lifetime love affair.

Lying on the Ground Gazing at the Sky

Yesterday was one of the first totally gorgeous days of the year around here.  It was warm in the sun, clear, and breezy.  While a really great dog ran back and forth, taking breaks from carrying her tennis ball to lick my face, I lay in the outfield of an empty baseball park staring into the sky.  I realized how long it had been since I had lain on the ground.  I love the difference in perspective when my head is right on the grass, and everything looks monumental and far-away.  The exigencies of the world seem, um . . . less exigent.  It is a very "grounding" experience.  Ha!

DIY Haircuts

I cut my own hair.  Partly because I'm cheap, partly because I like the control it gives me, and partly because I so often feel the urgent need to cut my hair around 11:00 p.m.  I know pretty much what look I'm aiming for, and if I end up with a terrible haircut I have nobody to blame except myself.  The downsides of do-it-myself haircutting is that even when I put a drop cloth down, my bathroom floor ends up covered with tiny bits of hair.  When I take a shower afterward, the shower ends up covered with tiny bits of hair.  Also, it's hard to do a good job on the back of my head.  Sometimes I'll leave the house feeling suave and confident in my new 'do, only to realize around lunchtime that a few stray locks have been jutting out in back all morning.  Many are the times I have accidentally cut part of my hair shorter than intended, and ended up having to shorten it all over to match.  But I can even find strengths in bad haircuts, because they encourage humility, discourage vanity, and help me remember that all things change with time.  (On this duck drawing, I have only minimally adjusted the black levels of the photograph, because I think it better conveys the pen strokes.  I'll do a future post about my blogging process to go into this in more depth.  Thanks for reading.)

Unusual Sports

If it looks like this picture is drawn on a napkin, that's because it is.  I drew it in a taco place around here, in between bites of a really satisfying night-time burrito.  The TV in the restaurant was tuned to an international equestrian event, with horses jumping over fences and puddles and stuff.  It struck me that there's a whole world of interesting sports out there beyond the ones I normally hear about.  As I chewed my burrito, curling popped into my head to represent all the sports that strike me as unusual and amusing.  To that end, I bring you this duck sliding a rock with a handle across an icy pond.  On a napkin.

Old Monster Movies

It's the witching hour.  You're on the couch with the curtains pulled tight against the dark, windy night outside.  The lights are off and the living room is illuminated only by the gray-blue, phosphorescent flickerings on the TV screen.  If there's popcorn involved, you've hit the jackpot.  I like some new monster movies, but the old ones are much more gratifying.  They often start slowly, so slowly you forget you're waiting for some horrible creature to appear.  And just when you're relaxed, even a little bored, spooky things start happening.  Because special effects were in their infancy and budgets were low, directors back then had to imply scary things more often than showing them.  Much of fear is what's in our minds anyway, so some old movies end up being genuinely creepy without showing a single evisceration.  And the music is lush and symphonic, lending extra drama to the proceedings. On top of all that, there's the wonderfully gratifying sensation of getting away with something--probably a holdover from the days when you snuck out of bed and turned on the TV with the sound real low to watch things like this when your parents thought you were sleeping.

Wind-Up Hopping Toys

There is something ridiculously satisfying about tiny, plastic, wind-up toys.  I used to have some made by the Tomy corporation that were marvels of cuteness and compactness.  You wind them up with a gratifying ratchet sound and then hold them still until you're ready for them to go, feeling the strength of all that potential energy ready to be released.  Then you set them down on a table and watch as they slowly lower themselves before . . . *BOING!* springing into the air.  Sometimes they'll do a complete flip in the air and land on their feet again (for bonus points).  I like how sometimes they're shaped like something that would never ordinarily be jumping into the air, like a television set or a lobster.  Well, maybe not a lobster, but I'm pretty sure there are crazy jumping toys out there.  These toys are so simple, yet so complex, and refreshingly free of any utility, other than creating smiles.

College Basketball

In honor of tonight's big UNC-Duke game (go, Heels!), I offer this tribute to the game that so many recognize as a religion unto itself. I grew up in one of the world's pockets of truly ardent basketball fandom, but I have to be honest here: mine is a family that did not give a flip about the sport, and for many years I had no particular allegiance to one team over another. For various reasons, I now count myself a UNC fan, and while I will never follow the Tar Heels' ups and downs with the limitless fervor of some of my peers, I recognize and enjoy the passion of the rivalry between Duke and UNC. In the world of soccer, former Liverpool FC coach Bill Shankly is widely reputed to have said, "Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that." Ask most anybody around here about basketball at this time of year, and I think they'd agree. Enjoy the game!

Flip-up Sunglasses

I've loved these ever since I watched A Different World on network TV back in the day. They're cool by virtue of being more often than not superfluous, but then when you need them: BAM! Sunglasses!  Square to hip in 0.5 seconds! Flip-up shades to me are a stand-in for a whole class of objects, like garish wristwatches (more on those later) and those resin chairs shaped like giant hands, that are really silly and of questionable utility yet strangely appealing. Flip-ups are the mullet of the eyewear world--business on the bottom, party on top. Whatever happens, you'll be prepared.

Long Scarves

Scarves are great. They're perfect for those days that aren't cold enough for a coat, but are too cold to go without. They're like neck-size security blankets, keeping me safe and cozy in the frosty wilds of the world. Dorky fellow that I am, I used to love watching Tom Baker's Doctor on Doctor Who reruns, gallivanting all over time and space with his 16-foot-long scarf, sonic screwdriver, and packet of jelly babies. The scarf was his character's equivalent of Indiana Jones's whip--a unique fashion accessory and an indispensably versatile tool.  I overheard a girl once saying that she'd always wanted to date a guy who would wear a scarf.  I hadn't realized that some guys won't--perhaps they fear being labeled metrosexuals.  I fear having a cold neck.  I also love the decidedly hipster look of scarf + t-shirt.  I have a treasured scarf that my sister knitted for me, and it dresses up any outfit. In summation: yay, scarves!

*Quack!* means "Hello, World" in Duck

I originally got the idea to do a blog about things that annoyed me, but realized that would probably not have improved my mood.  I'm an optimist at heart, and prefer to look on the sunny side.  So instead I now present to you this exploration of things I like, which I have illustrated with ducks.  Why ducks?  They have a saucy insouciance that makes them a good choice for illustrating Things I Like about life.  They're also not hard to draw.  And there's another point--I've always stymied myself when thinking about blogging by becoming too concerned with quality.  If it's going on the Internet, it has to be perfect, right?  Well, clearly anyone who has been online knows this is not the case, so I'm letting this blog free me from concerns about quality.  The drawings aim simply to express a love of life; and like life, they're not gonna wait around until I get them perfect.  So here you go.  Enjoy!  -Dana