Zachy Swimming @ Sunday Funday

Yay, Gumballs!

Ever have one of those days?

Total Bummer

I do not watch the news, and I try to stay away from newspapers - as much as I can. I find that the internet allows me to regulate my news intake in a much healthier manner, and in much healthier doses. Besides, as was so rightly pointed out to me some years ago, if anything big is going on in the world, I'll hear about it - too true, too true!

Well, today I was unable to avoid four stories - none of them good news, I'm afraid - but the last hurt in a different way. We need heroes now more than ever, and I will certainly miss Batman. RIP.


Masacre in Mumbai, India

Toys R Us Shooting

Wallmart Trampling

Batman Dies

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving's earliest roots most likely lie in Mihragan, which is one of the most ancient festivals known, dating back at least as far as the earliest Indo-Europeans. It is in all likelihood the survivor of an earlier Aryo-Iranian New Year festival, dating from some prehistoric phase of the Aryo-Iranian [Indo-Iranian] calendar, when the year began at the autumnal equinox. This became a pre-Zoroastrian and old Aryan harvest feast dedicated to the sun god. According to the Hindu tradition, Zoroaster would have lived long before 4000BCE; however, Aristotle wrote that the Persians of his time dated Zoroaster even further back to around 6000BCE. The festival predates this, most likely by some thousands of years. The short version is that the practice of a late Autumn Thanksgiving feast of some kind is old - damn old!

Mihragan was connected with the worship of one of the oldest Aryan deities (Baga-Mithra). According to Zoroastrian angelology, Mithra is the greatest of the angels and is an angel of light, associated with the sun, but distinct from it. He has a thousand ears and ten thousand eyes. Hmmmn - no wings? The feast of Mihragan is still practiced today among Zoroastrians, and is a community celebration in which prayers of thanksgiving and blessings of the community figure prominently in the observances.

Of course here, in the good old US of A, simple thanks and blessings are not nearly enough. Our Thanksgiving celebration would not be complete without a large screen (1080p preferably) viewing of giant, grotesque, inflatable characters being mercilessly dragged down Broadway to West 34th Street, followed by gorging ourselves on cholesterol-laden foods to the point of regurgitation, followed by viewing steroid-enhanced behemoths bashing each other senseless on a 100 yard rectangular lawn, then finally, waking up early the next morning for the obligatory battle with the hordes of cursing, nasty, bargain-seeking consumers all wrestling over that last Nintendo Wii. What would Mithra play? Where would Mithra shop?

I suppose it is fitting, as the sad reality is that our Thanksgiving is actually a celebration of genocide. In 1617, just before the Pilgrims landed, the process started in southern New England. For decades, British and French fishermen had fished off the Massachusetts coast, and after filling their hulls with cod, they would go ashore to lay in firewood and fresh water and perhaps capture a few Indians to sell into slavery in Europe – why not? It is almost certain that these fishermen transmitted illness to the people they met. The plague that ensued made the Black Death pale by comparison. Some historians think the disease was the bubonic plague; others suggest that it was viral hepatitis, smallpox, chicken pox, or influenza – perhaps a witches’ brew of all of them.

Within three years the plague wiped out between 90 percent and 96 percent of the inhabitants of coastal New England. The Indian societies lay devastated. Only "the twentieth person is scarce left alive," wrote Robert Cushman, a British eyewitness, recording a death rate unknown in all previous human experience. Unable to cope with so many corpses, the survivors abandoned their villages and fled, often to a neighboring tribe. Because they carried the infection with them, Indians died who had never encountered a white person. Howard Simpson describes what the Pilgrims saw: "Villages lay in ruins because there was no one to tend them. The ground was strewn with the skulls and the bones of thousands of Indians who had died and none was left to bury them."

During the next fifteen years additional epidemics, most of which we know to have been smallpox, struck repeatedly. European Americans also contracted smallpox and the other maladies, to be sure, but they usually recovered, including, in a later century, the "heavily pockmarked George Washington." Native Americans usually died. The impact of the epidemics on the two cultures was profound. The English Separatists, already seeing their lives as part of a divinely inspired morality play, found it easy to infer that God was on their side. John Winthrop, governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, called the plague "miraculous." In 1634 he wrote to a friend in England: "But for the natives in these parts, God hath so pursued them, as for 300 miles space the greatest part of them are swept away by the smallpox which still continues among them. So as God hath thereby cleared our title to this place, those who remain in these parts, being in all not 50, have put themselves under our protection." God the Original Real Estate Agent – hooray for God! Hooray for us!

These epidemics probably constituted the most important geopolitical event of the early seventeenth century. Their net result was that the British, for their first fifty years in New England, would face no real Indian challenge. This is why we refer to the colonists as “settlers” not “conquerors” – there were no people left alive to conquer, just empty villages and nice, cleared land ready for planting. Squanto’s behavior, when seen through this lens takes on a different light entirely. Being virtually alone as a survivor of the plagues, he threw his lot in with the pilgrims out of desperation not benevolence or altruism.

It is amazing to me that in a mere 10,000 years we have moved from simple Neolithic gratitude for the bounty of Earth and the miracle of the ever-renewing seasons, to a celebration of violence, conquest, commercialism, consumerism and over-indulgence. Perhaps this is what people mean when they say to me, “progress, not perfection” – perhaps not. Whatever the case may be, I am "celebrating" this Thanksgiving working on a locked psych-ward at Maimonides Medical Center, in Brooklyn. Zach and Miranda are with their mother and I am far away from my family. Things will quiet down later after the patients get their medication and I will have some quiet time to have my Mihragan - to give sincere and humble thanks for all that is, and all that is not.

Peaceandlove.

The Subway Platform at1am

Go And Figure

So you might have noticed (see: Post) that I got a little creative in the kids' room this past week... but that's not what I've been thinking about, instead I've been kinda laughing at myself - let me explain: I've had the paints, brushes, roller, masking tape, etc. for months now, just waiting for some down-time to give the job the presence it deserves - I wanted to enjoy it for the labor of love that it was. What I lacked, the only thing I lacked, was a drop cloth. Usually, in the past, when I have done these sorts of things I've used the opportunity to replace my furry, moldy shower curtain liners, as they make great drop cloths and only cost a buck or two. In this case, my liners were in almost new, dare I say "mint" condition (I bathe instead of showering) so I decided to use my bed sheets instead.

Before you gasp, please realize that I bought the sheets in question at Kaufmann's with Elaine Tatelman (bet that takes you back a bit, huh?) in 1988 when I was preparing to move to Dayton, and have used them wherever I went (and with whoever I was with), ever since. The math ain't hard folks - that's twenty years worth of mileage! Lately the fitted sheet of the set had worn through and developed a four foot rip in it, about where my feet end up while I sleep. Of course I tried duct taping the tear (who wouldn't?), but you can guess how well that worked out.

Now here's where the stupiditity (made that word up myself!) comes in: in order to use my ripped and thoroughly ratty sheets for the paint job, I had to go out an buy new ones (I only own one set) - something that I desperately needed to do anyway, paint or no paint. The thing was, IT WAS SOOOOO HARD!!! I usually won't think twice about dropping fifteen bucks for a pizza, but spending fifteen whole American Greenbacks on a set of sheets off the bargain rack at Century 21 was sheer torture. It was like parting with the last money I'll ever have - ever!

To real kicker was that the sheets I got were so amazingly cheap (with like a thread count of 10) and fit the mangy, old, stinky, second-hand futon that I sleep on so poorly, that I actually find myself missing the duct-taped old sheets that are now in some landfill or other. They never teach you how to deal with this stuff in school, or perhaps that was on one of those many days I missed - maybe the same day that they taught how to throw out your boxers when all that is left is the rubber waist band with some threads hanging off of it? The point is, some things are fun to buy and I don't mind spending hard-earned loot to buy them. But things like friggin' sheets should grow on shrubs or something!

Maybe they will fit better after I wash them a couple of times and nuke the crap out of them in the industrial-strength dryer downstairs - the one that eats my socks - who knows. All I can think about is how much I would have enjoyed a nice pizza after all that painting - at least the kids loved the paint job - that's worth all the trauma.

Miranda At La-La Land

On Sunday we went to the La La Land - a toy store on 3rd Avenue to buy another jewelry box kit so that Miranda could have one to take to Mommy's house. However, when we got there she decided that she would rather have a Ponyville toy. Daddy capitulated and we spent some time playing in the play-room that they have in the back.

Zachy At La-La Land

Zachy enjoys the Thomas setup that they have at La La Land and can easily spend hours at it... are you listening Santa???

Zachy Swingin'

After breakfast on Sunday, we went to the park to get some exercise. Here Zachy does what he does best - I hardly have to push him anymore!

Miranda At The Playground

Miranda passed on the swings in order to better enjoy the swirly lollipop that she got from the nice Egyptian toy store guy.

Miranda Has Penguin Gloves

We say "pengin" but mean "penguin" - either way, Panda's new gloves are mighty stylish, if a couple of sizes too big.

Miranda At Sunday Funday

Sunday Fun Day is a program at the Bensonhurst JCC - It is really for Zach, but since it was our first time going, the whole crew enjoyed what they had to offer.

Zach At Sunday Funday

Zachy was definitely NOT having fun at first, and cried for the first hour of "Fun" Day. Eventually he settled in and managed to salvage the afternoon. The staff at the JCC seemed to mean well, but were glaringly uninformed about issues regarding autistic kids. Don't worry Bumblebee, I don't think we'll be going on Daddy's weekends anymore.

Miranda At ToysRUs

To make up for the trauma caused by the whole JCC thing - Papa Stephen drove us to Toys R Us and treated the monkeys each to a toy. Here Miranda drives Elmo and Zoe - almost as fun as the toy!

Daddy Goes To Miranda's School

Yesterday (Tuesday) Daddy kept a promise to his little pumpkin and went to school with Miranda. She showed me all the stations and taught me everything I needed to know in order to do preschool right. I even got to watch circle time!

New Paint Job

I took the opportunity created by my lack of employment on Wall Street to complete a project that I've been meaning to get around to for quite some time now - painting the ceiling of the kids' room. It is now a beautiful sky blue with puffy white clouds and lots of glow in the dark stars, moons and planets. The project met with great approval!

Zach at Daddy's Desk

Just a quick snap of Zachy sitting on the stool that serves as Daddy's desk chair (on Wednesday evening). Zachy sat at my desk and studied a Thomas book that he got for his birthday.

Yo Gabba Mind Control

I don't let the kids watch a lot of TV, but when we watch it is usually Noggin - a kids' cable channel that is commercial free (except for endless commercials for itself). Programs include: The Wonder Pets, Dora, The Backyardigans (which I love), Wow Wow Wubsy (kind of cool and trippy), Max & Ruby (Zach thinks Max is hysterical), etc. There is one show, however, that totally creeps me out: Yo Gabba Gabba (cast shown above). The program's theme seems to be preaching submission and conformity in a very repetitive and amazingly hypnotic way. I'm seriously considering blocking it if I find myself still humming the six word songs on Tuesday. I'll keep you posted.

Change Is Not A Four Letter Word

The joke goes something like this: Werner Heisenberg is pulled over by a policeman while driving down a highway, the policeman gets out of his car, walks towards Heisenberg's window and motions with his hand for Heisenberg to wind the window down, which he does. The policeman then says "Do you know how fast you were going sir?", to which Heisenberg responds "No, but I knew exactly where I was."

Perhaps some explanation is required. In quantum physics, the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle states that the values of certain pairs of conjugate variables (position and momentum, for example) cannot both be known with arbitrary precision. That is, the more precisely one variable is known, the less precisely the other is known. This is not a statement about the limitations of an observer's ability to measure particular quantities of a system, but rather about the nature of the system itself.

There are exactly no states, in quantum mechanics, which describe a particle with both a definite position and a definite momentum. The narrower the probability distribution is for the position, the wider it is in momentum and vice versa. The principle requires that when the position of an atom is measured, the measurement process will leave the momentum of the atom changed by an uncertain amount inversely proportional to the accuracy of the measurement.

The uncertainty principle is related to the observer effect, which refers to changes that the act of observation will make on the phenomenon being observed, however, the two are often confused. As Bell's Theorem suggests, the state of a system does not exist independently of its observer. In other words: to observe something is to change that which is being observed. Why do I care?

Well, the two primary themes that old Werner was really hammering away at are "change" and "observation" and both have been rattling around in my noggin for the past couple of days. It seems that I will soon be going through another period of big changes - you know - career, life and whatnot. The "handwriting" is on the walls of Wall Street - who could have known that I'd pick the worst time to become a stock broker since 1929?

Fortunately, I've grown quite accomplished at reading handwritten walls over the years, and still better at accepting (dare I say seeking?) change. Accordingly, I have been dropping those proverbial hooks in the water - this is what one does, right? The difference this time stems from the year I have spent in the investment banking world.

I've learned that it is just as easy to drop a really big hook in the sea of opportunity as it is to drop the little "Craigslist" kind. Hanging out with and observing people who buy entire coal mines for their personal portfolios, or who put together $100 million syndicates for some venture or other (taking a measly 10% as their fee) changes one's perspective as to just how vast the array of possibilities is. The absurd becomes commonplace.

Upon reflection, perhaps Heisenberg and Bell had it backwards. Maybe it is the observer not the system that is changed by the process of observation - perhaps both? It seems clear that as a result of this experience my thinking has changed (yet again), as have the set of opportunities I choose to embrace.

Miranda Feeling Groovy

Zachy Playing With His ThomasTtrains

Sunny day, kicking the clouds away...

The view looking North down Ridge Blvd. on this fine autum day. I'm playing a little hookey today;-)

Getting My Zen On

So how much experiential wisdom does it take to reach enlightenment anyway? Is there some kind of wisdom-o-meter that I can buy - say, on ebay? I'm just asking... I mean... because... you know... like... I got to be getting close... right? Right?!? Remember folks, in the attainment of awakening it's experiential realization that counts, not style - and each day I am confronted with endless and wildly varied experiences - and, through them, I try not to seek reality, just an end to opinions.
Well, no matter really - I got 8 hours of sleep (in a row!!!) last night, was able to get some meditation time in (to a mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders) and I feel completely renewed - well, almost. I often wonder how I'd feel if circumstances permitted me to do all the other little things I know I should be doing for myself, on a daily basis; because I am certain that the quieter I become, the more I will hear.
Even marooned as I am here in New York, at any given moment I can open my eyes and just exist... if I put in the leg work. I must be ever mindful that if I cannot find the truth right where I am, where else can I expect to find it? The end of all my exploring will be to arrive where I started and know the place for the first time.
Peaceandlove.

Ask Dr. Math

Got a chance to roll up my sleeves and do a little math this evening with Susie and Samantha (Childers, for those of you outside the family). We solved the problem - let's see if you can:
How many bearers must an explorer bring with him if they have to cross a barren wasteland (a 6 day journey) and each of them can only carry 4 days worth of food and water (nobody is allowed to die on the way & you must explain how this can be done)?

The Psych Ward @ 1:15am

Note: photo timed and composed to insure patient confidentiality.

... then some fun!

And McDonalds has free wifi too.

First a snack...

Miranda's New Jewelry Box

Panda did a really nice job decorating her new jewelry box that she
got for her birthday - way sparkly!

Marathon Day 2008

Yep, it's marathon day again - first stop off the bridge is Bay Ridge.
We just got back from taking a look.

All Dressed Up And...

We tried going to the big Halloween / anniversary party... but as soon
as the lights went down and the music came on Zach barfed and we
headed home. Turns out that Miranda has a 102.3 temp too:(. Sitting up
on barf-patrol now - oh the joys of parenthood!

PandaTime.

Don't Try This At Home!!!

Look, it's my face!

Saturday At The Park

Pizza for Lunch

The crew grabbing a quick bite in between the Sensory Gym and speech
at Simply Speaking.