A spate

I used the word spate in an email at work today. I was quite proud of myself, as I don't believe that I have used this word in any email before. Spate. It's an interesting word. A spate of this, a spate of that. It's like one of those words that I use, thinking that I understand its meaning, only to stealthily pop open a Internet explorer window to quickly look up the word at dictionary.com. I used it right. I thought I had, but I also discovered that the British use of the word refers to weather or something. Bad weather.

A spate of weather.

Another thing I've started doing in my emails is placing a small short little sentence SMACK in the middle of a group of heavy handed meticulous paragraphs, just to emphasize a point, and maybe take the reader a little off guard. Just so they are not so comfortable with my email. I'd hate for them to get lulled into a false sense of boredom or mundanity (looking up mundanity on d..i..c...) on their way down to my "Please contact me if you have any questions or comments on this issue." That's a must if you don't want the person on the receiving end to just take all the information that you mind numbingly rattled in a barely able to be strung together group of thoughts about nothing that you would ever imagine yourself really needing to explain to someone in any way to understand that its important that he or she should contact you if it's not exactly clear even if its not exactly clear what should be clear.

Which brings me back to spate. As the email itself being a spate of near pointless, but not quite pointless, bits of tasks, reminders, and of course, factoids, that really serve no other reason than to remind the person that someone is reminding them.

It's why I love email. The fact that you can get away with throwing a quick two-sentencer out there just to pretend that you are on top of the thing that you are supposed to be on top of. And you don't actually have to answer any questions in the process. "Hey, Jack, its Edward. Have you accomplished the tasks that were assigned?" How wonderfully vague. Imagine calling someone with that question, and the backup you would require. And, of course, when arrives in email, the poor sod receiving the email... oh, I would not like to be that guy, especially if I didn't actually assign him any tasks. The hours wasted reviewing, refreshing, trying to recall. But not my hours. He can't, won't, just email me back and say "What tasks?" Why, that would be unprofessional. I mean, it WOULD be unprofessional if I did give him tasks, which I didn't, but he probably doesn't know that. It's a spate! (d..i..c....)

Not unlike a blog.

If you have any questions on this entry, please do not hesitate to provide your comments.

Thank you,

The Domestic Cockroach Revisited

For those of you familiar with my previous blog entry "The Domestic Cockroach," it may be interesting to read this related blog: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/10/31/cockroaches-reconsidered/index.html?hp

They might be saying "Hey that guy was right" sooner than I thought.

I miss you, baby

Hey blog. I know we haven't talked in a while, but, I just thought, you know, you might want to hear my voice. What? No, no, of course I want to hear your voice, that goes without saying. I mean, would I be calling you if I didn't miss you, baby?
Anyways, it's true, you know you have always been my one. What? Yeah, I know I we haven't talked because I have a wife and kids, not to mention some other really time consuming responsibilities. But, baby, that doesn't matter right now, you mean sooo much to me. I mean, you know, I like love you and stuff. You're my true one.
Now, let's forget that day to day, and focus on us. On you and me. Ohhh yeah, you know what I'm talking about.
Now, look, I gots to go right now. No, no, seriously, seriously. Wait, no, listen, I just need to pick up some roses, a nice movie, maybe some chocolates, and, I swear, I'll be right back. Yeah, how does that sound? And things will be like they used to.
Okay baby, my one and true blog, I'll see you soon. 'TIll then, I'll be thinking about you. I promise.

Vespa

Top 10 reasons I like my Vespa?

1. It's barely fast enough to legally go on the highway, yet slow enough to annoy everyone on the highway.
2. Traffic is basically a slalom.
3. Red lights are more like guidelines. A suggestion, if you will.
4. The little beep may not be useful as a warning, but it can really piss people off!
5. No downshifting, but it's light enough I can walk it up steep slope on a snowy day; given I have good shoes.
6. It has a kick start. So, if I lose my keys or run out of gas, I can kick start it. Though, the manual mentions that this can damage the engine, and, if I can kick start it, basically anyone, at anytime, can. This one is not so much a benefit, but it seemed really cool when I bought it.
7. Nothing is more fun than watching the full-service station guys top off my tank to an even $4.00.
8. It doesn't take much to go from 0 to, well, around 55 (60 on a down slope). I love being able to beat every SUV at the red light challenge. You know they hate it.
9. If I can fit between construction cones, the street's open.
10. All the world is my parking space.

Smell

Some words, I believe, have a certain magic power. Even if you are not a mystical-type person, I think you might agree. Most religions, for example, will have at least one word with enough umpf to speak to the soul: Amen; Shalom; Tao. Even cultures have such words, even if in colloquialisms, like, say, Phat.

I think even for those who don't have the benefit of the culturally or religiously established magical words, there are words that can personally take on a similar special meaning. In thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized that I have one of these, unique, and magical words that, for me, has a special power.

smell

Now, you might ask "Smell?" And I would say yes, "smell." You see, what sense is more immediate than the olfactory? What other of the senses evokes memories and emotion like, well, smell? Maybe sight and sound, and even touch for the visually impaired... but I'm not talking about those senses. I'm talking about smell.

So next time you are in a situation where another of the magical, spiritual, or otherwise special words might be appropriate, I challenge you to replace that word with smell. Its worth a try.

May the smell be with you.

Another entry

This is another blog entry. And I'm just writing about stuff. Things on my mind; I'm just getting things written down. Putting it in words.

I don't have time for no myriad discussions. I just got to write stuff; to take care of all the writing. Just getting it done.

Old Friend

An old friend asked me, in a card I received from him, for an update on my life. This is not my best sort of writing topic, but as someone else described my blog as strange, funny, but strange (you know who you are), I think I will take this opportunity to branch out; forgive me as I scamper along.

Well, the September after the birth of Aidan, Eryn, my wife, and I moved from New York via a road trip to Portland. We moved into a house that we had already owned and rented out for a year. I landed a job with a good up-n-coming design firm in an effort to get back to my design roots in architecture (from a highly technical and production oriented 8 years). The firm has grown, as has Aidan. I see the profession in Portland taking on a transformation that started 10 years ago in the Big Apple --definitely a good thing.

Things in Portland are much tighter than they were for some obvious reasons: children, smaller city, and one income. But we are managing despite this, and have even been able to remodel the kitchen and the front rooms (though neither are yet completed).

Soon after Aidan's birth, I designed a product for a green roof (i.e. a roof with plants on it) that I decided to investigate as a potential patentable invention. Encouraged by some positive responses from a couple different directions, I went ahead and pursued the idea and have had a patent pending since last fall. I have yet to see if it actually has any marketability, but either way, I am having fun with it.

Almost four months ago, in the midst of deadlines at work, remodeling the kitchen, working on the green roof product, and other things that have been lost in my memory of a hectic time, Austin Alexander Bagby arrived and provided our first born with a little brother. We are very happy with this little one, and like with Aidan, we decided to keep him.

Since then we have been taking any opportunity to stabilize our life. As the two little boys get faster, Eryn and I are trying to go a little slower; at least for now.

We miss New York, but have had the opportunity to return twice already. It will be tough in the next little while, but another visit is always on our mind. My parents have been out here three times; once after our move, once for Aidan's first birthday, and once for Austin's birth day. My sister and brother, and their families, will be out in early August, which we are looking forward to.

The Domestic Cockroach

I read about the domestic cat today. Apparently they (you know, they. They appear and disappear. They tell you things and, in return, you tell your friends, your family, whoever. They know so, so, much) have discovered through genetic analysis that the domestic cat has come from a near eastern variety of the wild cat (did you know that there were a few varieties of these small felines throughout the world?). The most interesting part of the theories surrounding this new discovery is that the cat, and not humans, did the domesticating. Yes, that's right. Unlike the dog, which we still think was domesticated intentionally by people for their own purposes, the cat was apparently clever enough to know an opportunity when it saw it. 10,000 years ago, in line with the newly created storage of wheat and other grains, the cat increased their importance by protecting these human stores from rats, mice and other rodents.

Well, long story short, the cat became a furry friend that still maintains some remarkable independence (unlike the dog). They've won our hearts and people love the independent and friendly disposition of the, now, modern house cat. Based on my reading I have developed a new theory: the domestic cockroach. I predict that 10,000 years from now the cockroach will become a prized human companion. I know, sounds disgusting, but think about it. Cockroach shows (who will be Best In Show this year, the Mexican flying, blattella gemanica, or that always lovable waterbug) will highlight the favorites of over 3600 species. Instead of bombing our houses and apartments with noxious toxins, we will feed and embrace the wonderful cockroach. We will thow additional scraps to the floor at dinner and welcome them to our beds and easy chairs!

Some of you out there may be a little skeptical of my idea, but think about it. Based on the new discovery of what was probably thought of as a pesky dirty wild animal, the Felis Catus, we can easily surmise that the ubiquitous and, possibly useful, cockroach may be a favorite in the well, distant, future. The cockroach has many uses that today, because of our hateful biases, are overlooked. Some of the benefits include: cleaning up after dinner; scaring away annoying elderly neighbors; company for the lonely?

These are potentially a few of the thousands of benefits to the under appreciated abundant species of cockroach. Only the future may will tell, but heed my words. I predict that, someday, someone will look back and say, "hey that guy was right."

She Writes a Lot

She writes a lot. I wont tell you who she is, but she writes more than me. Words flow and phrases come like ease -on and on. I love her, and she is not my cat. She used to talk a lot, but in the last couple of days, the talking has decreased. I think I might miss the talking. But well, when I read her thoughts, at leastI can keep up.

Am I Sick?

The days are pretty routine from Monday to Friday, except when, on those days, that I feel a slight ache in my cheek, a haziness in my mind, and a general soothing tiredness. Like those dark summer clouds, it makes me wonder; will it rain, or will I need to go out once again, tomorrow, to water the plants?

First Entry. Monday June 25, 2007

It's the land of evergreens and rain. The Architecture is informed by it. But the way they talk might fool you. They don't tell you how it dries out in July, and waits for September to arrive before again soaking the city. By August we live in a barren high desert. Shrinking wood and dying grass. The sun enters everything. This takes a special kind of planning. A building built like a chameleon.