Eureka! I've Found It!

For years, I've remembered a gentle guitar melody from a short film that used to air on Sesame Street. The film was about a sunflower in Manhattan, and the melody was so tender and lovely that I've never forgotten it. Until now, I had no idea who wrote the music, so I wasn't sure I'd ever hear it again, and that made me sad.

But thanks to Google, I've found it. It seems I wasn't the only little kid that was moved by this piece:

On 17 August 2006 (06:19 PM), San said:
I don't know the episode
But it was like 25 yrs or more ago
The scene was a sunflower on a flower pot
sitting on the ledge of a balcony
just after the rain.
There is a solo nylon/classical guitar playing on the background

Does anybody know the title of the song played?
Any in fo is appreciated pls post the answer.

Someone wrote back and answered, "It's Vivaldi’s Concerto for lute, 2 violins and continuo in D Major, II - Largo."

I found the clip on YouTube and had a bit of a cry.

The film is still beautiful to me.

Sarkozky's Near Miss

“This was in no way an assassination attempt,” said Micky Rosenfeld, a police spokesman. “A border policeman ... committed suicide during the farewell ceremony.”

This story is just too strange be to believed. Why would an Israeli border police just 100 meters away from French President Nicolas Sarkozy commit suicide? Shouldn't we be hearing more details about this incident by now? Instead, the story is being swept under the rug.

Possible motive? Well, on Monday, Sarkozy told the Israeli parliament that there could be no Mideast peace unless Israel halted its West Bank settlement construction and divided Jerusalem.

Until more info unfolds, here's my guess: Israeli security saw the guard brandishing his weapon and popped him before a devastating international tragedy could occur.

By the way, though Carla Bruni sings about danger and excitement, she sure didn't waste anytime hustling herself onto the plane!

Conspiracy theorists, get busy!

George Carlin

Despite a long history of heart trouble, it was still a surprise to hear of the death of comedian George Carlin. He performed as recently as last weekend, and still seemed sharp in television appearances.

Carlin was an intensely cerebral comic who used his old radio deejay skills to dissect the English language and American social institutions. His classic "Baseball vs. Football" routine is a prime example. Enjoy!

Creepy Beautiful

Graphic artist Charley Harper has been getting a lot of buzz lately on account of a huge, expensive career retrospective by Todd Oldham.

Harper specialized in serigraph nature studies.

His print above, of a cow getting eaten by piranha, is a great example of his flat, graphic style.

Dear Old School Days

For some reason, I decided to visit the site of my old high school, Eastern Tech.

My high school was a magnet school. Students had to apply for admission, and were expected to abide by a dress code and fairly strict behavior and performance standards. The school was full of kids like me, white, lower-middle class, from blue-collar families. Very few of our parents had gone to college. But we knew the world was changing, and we couldn't expect to work in the mills like our dads. While most of us weren't about to set the world on fire, we were serious about our future, and interested in the world around us.

We each declared "primes," a major area of study. Some were technical, others were blue-collar. My prime was computer programming. I figured everyone was going to be using computers in the future. We learned COBOL, Fortran, RPG. I taught myself to program in BASIC. We learned to use punched data cards on ancient mainframes donated by the Social Security Administration. I loved it, but I hated it. It was too dry, to technical for me. I had to study accounting and calculus.

Eventually, I decided to pursue art and design. I thought I'd cut and paste and draw and glue things with my hands. For a short time, I did, but those days are over. Professional graphic design is unthinkable without computers. And I understand them quite well. Thanks, Eastern Tech.

I found an interesting tidbit on their site, indicative of the spirit of Eastern Tech, and good for all Americans to consider:

THE WHOLE WORLD AS 100 PEOPLE

If we could shrink the earth’s population to a village with precisely 100 people, with all the existing human nations remaining the same, it would look like this:

57 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Western Hemisphere (north and south)
8 Africans
52 females
48 males

70 would be non-white
30 white

70 would be non-Christian
30 would be Christian

59% of the world’s wealth would be in the hands of only 6 people and all 6 would be citizens of the US
80 would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from malnutrition
1 would be near death
1 would be near birth

Only 1 would have a college education and only 1 would have a computer. When one considers our world from such a compressed perspective, the need for both acceptance and understanding becomes glaringly apparent.

Music Review: "Accelerate," R.E.M.

Frankly, R.E.M. has bored me silly since 1988's "Green." To me, they became maudlin ("Everybody Hurts" and "Man on the Moon," for instance) and self-important, meandering, and without focus.

So when the early buzz for "Accelerate" hinted at a return to sharp rock tunes, I was intrigued. After a week of near constant play in my car, I'm convinced: they still got it. In spades!

The opener, "Living Well Is the Best Revenge," starts with a compact Merle Travis-style guitar lick and adds a great Michael Stipe poetry slam vocal. There's absolutely no melody, but that's OK: the song is relentless and explosive, and it holds up after lots of plays. It's amazing to hear how much R.E.M. can do with so little.

I also love "Man-Sized Wreath," "Supernatural Superserious," "Horse to Water," and "Mr. Richards." The latter reminds me of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, a deliberate, shoe-gazing groove with exquisite, subtle harmonies. It's been stuck in my head for days.

"Accelerate" sounds crafted and confident, with a certain "we can still rock" defiance. The songs know where they're going, and with the exception of "Houston," don't meander. The simple songs belie a surprising depth that bubbles to the surface after repeated listens. Quite a few moments of this release are magnificent.

It's no coincidence the band chose a simple, xerox style graphic for their album cover. These millionaires are revisting their old club days in Athens, no?

It's useless to compare "Accelerate" to old R.E.M. — Reagan is dead, Stipe is bald, and gas is $4.00 a gallon.

My grade? A solid B+ for effort.

Old guys rock!

Design Competition: Big Box Store

My latest design competition: redesign the exterior of Wal-Mart, the blandest of bland big box stores.

My idea is to construct the facade using the empty shipping containers. You know what these are -- they're the big, colorful metal crates left behind each time Wal-Mart receives another boatload of merchandise from China, our communist trading partner in the Far East.

The "SuperContainerCenter," as I'm tentatively calling it, achieves several objectives:

• It reappropriates unusable materials (the shipping crates)
• The steel exterior easily withstands the hurricanes and tornadoes of the Deep South
• It provides a cheekily ironic reminder of where all of our manufacturing jobs have gone


To all the haters out there: if you say my redesign is "ugly," think about this: the construction savings alone will allow Wal-Mart to shave at least nine cents off the price of an economy-sized bottle of Head and Shoulders shampoo. Now that's something all Americans can rally around!

Viva la redesign!

Brilliant Graphic Design

Pac-Man and Blinky sit down for a candlelit dinner together in this wonderfully creative graphic design from Olly Moss.

It's a great example of that famous "how to be creative" quote: make the familiar strange, and the strange familiar.

I wish I had thought of this!

Chomsky's Ride

Who knew America's greatest intellectual dissident had such a sweet ride?

Click here for more great work from Brandon Bird.

The Fearless Leader of Canada

It's Prime Minister Stephen Harper, holding a cuddly kitten named "Cheddar."

Another Beautiful Garage Mahal

Mini Mansion architecture keeps getting better!

Here's a lovely spread in Indiana. The design concept was "big," but to keep costs down, builders decided to brick only the front of the house. Why spend extra money bricking the sides? Let's just leave that a bright white aluminum siding! Your friends won't really notice!

The cost-cutting arctic white garage doors work fabulously with the red brick, no? You've got to park those 3 SUV's somewhere!

(In reality, the garage is actually full of Chinese-manufactured junk the kids don't play with anymore. And maybe an old refrigerator filled with Cokes.)

Despite a century of progress in Prairie architecture from guys like Frank Lloyd Wright, this sexy number takes its cues from Beacon Hill, circa 1776. With a big garage, of course. Thomas Paine would be proud!

I hope the buyers didn't sign an adjustable rate mortgage for this humble piece of architectural poetry...

That tree out front should be at least 10 feet tall by 2020!

Movie Review: “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”

I really, really wanted to like this movie.

Indiana Jones has been my favorite screen character since I was 12. Over the years, I've seen all the movies, read the novelizations, and subscribed to the comic books. I was thrilled when I heard "Indy 4" was finally in production!

Sadly, the movie has turned out to be a dud.

Whose fault is it? Not Harrison Ford's. He clearly worked like a dog to get himself in shape. He looks tremendous for a 65 year old man. But he's still A 65 year old man, and too old to be a credible action hero.

Is it Steven Spielberg's fault? I don't think so. He still directs with a simple, clear style. He stages some amazing action sequences, albeit it with some pretty flat looking CGI.

Is it Shia LaBeouf's fault? Not at all! I was afraid he'd be another Short Round, or Jar Jar Binks, but he actually injected some welcomed vigor into the film.

Is it screenwriter David Koepp's fault? Maybe a little. The storyline is jagged and clumsy, and there are too many non-essential characters strewn about. The dialogue isn't really funny or sharp, like Tom Stoppard's touch-up work on "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade." But in his defense, it's pretty clear that he had to work with some difficult egos who weren't about to allow much creative freedom.

The biggest problem with this film is George Lucas. By most accounts, Lucas desperately wanted an aliens and UFOs plot. He rejected scripts that Spielberg and Ford loved until the project nearly died. All the while, Ford got older, and older and older.

Finally, the three were able to agree on a script with a somewhat tempered alien connection. But by now, Indy's age had to be dealt with. Sure, it makes for interesting pathos, but we didn't fall in love with "Raiders of the Lost Ark" for pathos!

Long stretches of the movie are tedious. There's a lot of walking around, a lot of chatter, and precious little suspense. There's loads of navel-gazing, giving the film a vibe that reminds you of a couple of drunk guys at their high school reunion: "Hey, anybody remember "American Graffiti?" Or "E.T.?" How about "Close Encounters?" It all seems calculated by Lucas and Spielberg to remind us how awesome they once were.

Lucas is clearly in a creative funk. The Star Wars prequels were abominable. I suspect he surrounds himself with synchophants eager to ride the gravy train, the same kinds of friends who didn't bother to tell Fat Elvis not to wear tight, shiny jumpsuits.

"Indy" was meant to be the blockbuster that kicked off the summer. Instead, it felt like the Last Day of the Last Summer of Your Childhood. I could sense the audience weren't getting lost in the action; we were getting lost in our own melancholy. We wanted Indy to make us feel like a kid again; instead, we got served up a big 'ole plate of lost youth.

A Very Ironic American Tragedy

A wealthy white Christian musician adopts poor godless yellow baby from China.

How noble! Now she'll be raised in a big house with lots of "stuff."

But ironically, she'll be crushed to death in her own driveway by her big brother's SUV.

How incredibly tragic... how very American.

"Pops" on Route 66

Cami and I finally made it over to Pops. It's quite a gas station! I'd describe it as post-modern kitsch. The architecture, by Rand Elliot, is clean and white. Sharp angles and thick tubular steel echo classic Googie architecture from the mid-20th century. The neatly arranged soda bottles in the window create a stained glass effect. This place elevates a gas station to a cathedral!

The pièce de résistance is the big soda bottle monument. It's fantastic!

Mark Cuban on CEO Salaries

Here's an interesting tidbit:

• In 1965, U.S. CEOs in major companies earned 24 times more than an average (non-management) worker.
• In 1978, they earned 35 times more than an average worker.
• In 1989, 71 times more.
• By 2005, the average CEO was paid 262 times that of an average worker.

With salary discrepancies like this, it's no wonder the middle class in the United States shrinking. When the middle class shrinks, we all suffer. People stop buying cars, they stop buying houses and furniture, and the economy suffers. The CEOs are doing fine, though, don't worry about them.

Why have we seen such a shift in 40 years? It's more complicated than I can understand, but I think the bottom line is this: our economy used to be based upon making things (manufacturing), it's now based on speculation (financial services). Google, a company not even 10 years old, is worth $585.00 a share. Coca-Cola, founded in 1886, and as healthy and strong as a corporation can be, is worth $57.00 a share. It's more important to have Wall Street hype than to be financially sound.

This hyper-speculative environment led to the dot.com debacle of the 1990's, the current mortgage lending crisis, and will ultimately lead to the next Great Depression. No one will be able to stop it; anyone daring to suggest CEO pay is based on smoke and mirrors will be labeled un-American, a Marxist even.

Mark Cuban explains the situation, and tells us how to fix it. Read his take here.

Oklahoma City Landmark Tower Competition

Exciting news!

I'm officially announcing a competition to design a landmark tower for the city of Oklahoma City. No entries, please. The contest is over; my submission has won.

I call it "The Stake." Meant to symbolize the fact that Oklahoma City was settled in a single day in 1889 by those "staking" their claim, this gleaming titanium structure takes architectural inspiration from a single, flagged stake driven into the ground.

I sure wish we could make it rise 1,889 feet into the air, but that seems ambitious. Instead, let's shoot for 889 feet.

A space age fabric streamer ribbon (the same color as the red earth of central Oklahoma) waves in the wind... this simple touch makes The Stake a piece of living, kinetic sculpture. When strong winds sweep across the city, the streamer ribbon will come to life.

I think I could build this for around $200 million. Any takers?

Seriously, this is a pretty good idea, no? It's iconic. It speaks to the history of Oklahoma City. It's functional (it tells you which way the wind blows!). It's humble. It's architecturally unique.

Let's make this happen!

Kitschy French Postcards

Here's an interesting collection of odd French postcards from the 1960's.

Look for cheesecake poses, portraits of food, and strange scenarios involving cats and dogs dressed in miniature outfits.

Rumor Central

Cal Ripken, Jr. again denied the persistent rumor that he once decked buddy Kevin Costner for engaging in a lil' seventh-inning stretch with his wife, Kelly Ripken.

The rumor is uncommonly juicy. From Snopes.com:

Cal Ripken, Jr. was allowing Kevin Costner, the actor, to stay at his house, following the wrap of "The Postman". One day, Ripken left for Camden Yards to play in a game. Somewhere between his home and the stadium, Cal realized that he had left something back at his house, and turned back to retrieve it. Upon arriving at his home, he found Kevin Costner in bed with his wife, Kelly. Cal then proceeded to beat the crap out of Costner, to the point that Costner was unable to make any publicity opportunities for a time. Cal then called the Orioles, and told them he wouldn't be coming in to play that day. Upon hearing this, the owner reminded Cal about his streak, telling him The Streak would end if he didn't play that day. Cal told him it was impossible for him to come in, so there went the streak. Reportedly, the owner told him not to worry, because he would take care of it. That night, the game was cancelled due to "electrical failure" with some lights on the field. The caller said that there was no problem with the lights, that everything else, including the hotels and restaurants that are part of Camden Yards, worked perfectly. The next day, the lights were fixed, Cal was able to play, and the streak stayed intact.

Despite the denials, many with tangential connections to the Baltimore Police Dept. claim something untoward indeed went down at the Ripken house during a Costner visit. And the Orioles did indeed cancel a game with the Mariners due to "electrical failure."

One so-called insider writes:

i used to work at the stadium in the late 90’s. i occasionally worked with a lady in the baltimore police dept. she confirmed through her counterparts the police were called to the ripken household for a domestic disturbance and costner was at the house…as for ripken decking him i do not know…its quite possible the power went out at camden yards, ripken went home and found costner with his wife who may have had no idea that the power was out at the stadium and the game would not be played.

Costner has certainly been involved in shenanigans before. Remember this story?

We may never know the truth... but what a rumor!

Fish n' Flush

Hey, why not?

Miroslav Sasek - Illustrator Extraordinaire

I recently discovered some great book reissues of the work of one Miroslav Sasek, a fantastic mid-century modernist illustrator.

He was best known for his long-running series of children's travel books. I've picked up This Is London, This Is Ireland, and This Is San Francisco, and goodness, gracious, they're spectacular (however, the printing is a bit dull and flat).

Sasek illustrated with great wit and originality. I look at his work and see an incredible sense of design, whimsy and intricacy.

Paint by Numbers as Art

A fairly posh 1st Ave. art gallery in Portland was showing paint by numbers art.

My take: Paint by Numbers is trending up, up, up!

ESPN Fantasy Baseball Tracker

A great way to track our Fantasy League teams. No more combing through the newspaper for stats!

Ira Keller Fountain

During the winter, the Ira Keller Fountain is dry, but not to worry — it's still worth checking out. Absolutely nobody was there when we visited, so we had free rein of the massive monolithic concrete forms. It's a photographers dream, a desolate, almost distopian landscape right out of a science fiction film.

Portland is Nifty

I've never been to a Nordic city (Stockholm, Helsinki, or Copenhagen, for instance), but here's how I picture them: brisk, gray, clean, high-functioning, orderly, artistic and (ahem) white.

Portland is all of those things. The city doesn't make you feel insignificant, like Manhattan. The buildings are built to a more human scale, and the city blocks are scaled down to half the size of typical big city blocks. Walking is a pleasure; the sidewalks are made with neatly arranged red bricks rather than aggregate concrete. Drivers are passive, not aggressive. Pedestrians and bikers seem to rule the roost.

The weather was typically Pacific Northwestern: daily periods of rain, sun, rain again, only now mixed with slush, then sun, then, is that hail? Wise Portlanders wear sensible shoes and hats; foolish Portlanders wear high heeled pumps and silk blouses. When riding public transit, you notice other riders entering the train with pant legs completely soaked from knee to shoe.

Now, about the whiteness: Portland is by far the least racially diverse major city I've ever visited. I'm not exactly sure why it's so white; it just is. Chinatown was notable for a curious lack of Chinese. The few black folks I saw looked more like Bobby McFerrin than say, Bernie Mack. Is this why Portland is often called America's "Most Livable" city? Are headlines like this really secret code for "Psst... you'll like living here, it's really white"? You'd expect a lack of racial diversity in an isolated city like Reykjavik, but c'mon, in Portland, Oregon?

Still, the city works magnificently. Bikers pedal to work in special protected lanes; pedestrians hoof it through the sporadic rain squalls in the North Face outerwear (who needs an umbrella?) and the light rail system slips through town with barely a sound. Portland city planners certainly have a vision, and it's working.

One thing thankfully lacking in Portland are churches. Oh, you'll see the occasional steeple downtown, but one gets the feeling that Portlanders would rather spend time in a bookstore than in a church. The latter tells you what to do, the former let's you figure it out for yourself, if you're even interested.

Japanese Gardens

For some reason, I've lately become obsessed with Japanese gardens. I'm not a big Japanophile (sure they make cute toys and great electronic products, but why the sell-out to the West?) I guess I love what Japan used to be, before Commodore Perry. I love the Japanese principles of gardening, and the incredible beauty they can create.

The Japanese Gardens in Portland (inside Washington Park) are the most beautiful I've ever seen. They've been called the most perfect outside of Japan, but I don't know how one judges something like that. I do know that I saw every shade of green that could ever be conceived, and that when the sun flashed from behind a cloud, every shade of green changed once again. It's a serene, self-reflective space, with a blessed ban on cell phones and loud conversation. The gardens were installed in 1963, but because of the way things grow in Portland, they look like they've been there for centuries.