Ryan Byrd’s Ramblings

So, you already know I’m going to Mexico in a few weeks. But did you know I already have a “Mexico” tee-shirt? It’s true. I got it the other day and I wore it to a family reunion lunch at Cafe Rio and to the Cottonwood Height’s Butlerville Days parade (I wasn’t in the parade, but I did provide comedic commentary to the delight all those around me.) Speaking of which, at the parade I sat on a roadside curb several feet down from an elderly couple. The lady repeatedly glanced in my direction, each time looking perplexed. Finally she mustered, “why are you wearing a shirt that says ‘Mexico’? Are you Mexican?” It’s true, I’m not Mexican, nor do I look Mexican, so I understood why she’d be confused. “No,” I said, “but I’m going to visit Mexico soon”. “Why?”, she asked? “Um,” I stammered, searching for a reason, “because I need a vacation, and plus, I’d like to check in with those Mexicans to see what they’re up to. They’ve been quiet lately.” She didn’t laugh. I guess I need to practice my old-people humor more.

Here (left) is a picture of that shirt, except that OBVIOUSLY I’m not wearing it, but instead some smiling lady is. Still, it’s my shirt. Well, except for the small print that says “Ring Girl”, my shirt doesn’t say that.

Where was I? Oh, yes, I thought this would be a prime occasion to review a little Spanish with you. Shall we start with verb conjugations? Let’s!

First, the subject pronouns:
yo (I)
tļ (you Рinformal)
ĩl (he)
ella (she)
usted (you – formal)

nosotros/nosotras (we)
vosotros/vosotras (y’all – informal)

ellos/ellas (they)
ustedes (y’all formal)

and now for the promised conjugations:
-ar verbs (like hablar), drop the ending (-ar) and add one of the following: o, as, a, amos, ƒ¡is, an

yo hablo (I speak)
tļ hablas (you speak)
ĩl/ella/usted habla (he speaks, she speaks, you (formal) speak)
nosotros hablamos (we speak)
vosotros hablƒ¡is (y’all speak)
ellos/ellas/ustedes hablan (they speak, y’all (formal) speak)

-er verbs (like comer), drop the ending (-er) and add one of the following: o, es, e, emos, ĩis, en

yo como (I eat)
tļ comes (you eat)
ĩl/ella/usted come (he eats, she eats, you (formal) eat)
nosotros comemos (we eat)
vosotros comƒ©is (y’all eat)
ellos/ellas/ustedes comen (they eat, y’all (formal) eat)

-ir verbs (like vivir), drop the ending (-ir) and add one of the following: o, es, e, imos, ƒ­s, en

yo vivo (I live)
tļ vives (you live)
ĩl/ella/usted vive (he lives, she lives, you (formal) live)
nosotros vivimos (we live)
vosotros vivƒ­s (y’all live)
ellos/ellas/ustedes viven (they live, y’all (formal) live)

ref: www.studyspanish.com

My parents are residents of Highland, Utah, which is confusing to a lot of people because there is a Highland High School in Salt Lake and so people assume that I went there. I didn’t. Highland City is in Utah County, just south of Alpine and when I went to high school, neither Highland nor Alpine had enough people for schools of their own, so we all went to American Fork High School. I was a Caveman. I was the president of the Science Club, a member of the Chess club and on the Math team. Yes, I’ll be signing autographs later.

Anyway, my point in all this blather is that my parents live in Highland, and each year Highland City puts on a celebration they term, “the Highland Fling“. I’m not sure what they are flinging or what’s been flung in the past but I do know that among the events sponsored is a 5K race.

I used to be a runner. I used to be fast. Well, not super-fast, but ok-fast. Now I’m not-so-fast. Actually I’m very-slow. That would be ok if this were like the last four years, where I’ve run the 5K mainly for the free bananas and Gatorade you get when you finish. This year is different, however, because of someone I’ll refer to as “Mike”.

Let’s pretend that this Mike character dates my younger sister. Let’s pretend further that Mike’s a bit younger than me and arguably in a lot better shape. Finally, let’s pretend that Mike thinks that he is going to run the Highland 5K and beat me.

Brief tangent: 5k races. What’s with calling them “Fun Runs”? Running 3 miles is not fun. Watching television and eating ice cream is fun. Going to the zoo and tapping on the monkey cage to get them all riled up is fun. Wanting to puke your guts out is not fun. Being passed by a pack of large women three times your age is not fun.

Ok, we’re back. Saturday August 5th at 7:00am there will be a showdown between Mike and me. Will I win? Yes. Because I have the “eye of the tiger”, because I have years of running experience, and because I’ve arranged for a few friends to drive by and paintball him if he gets too far ahead of me. Like I’ve always said, it pays to network.

I like to travel and I’ve been fortunate to have visited a few places. I just wrote a small web program to map out world travels on a google map.

Here is a map of Ryan Byrd’s Travels

Saturday morning found me at the Utah Fairgrounds standing in a long line, in a curious, motley crowd of mostly teen misfits. I had decided on a whim to attend the punk rock event, if for nothing else, amusement. I was not let down. Several feet ahead of me in the line was a Hispanic kid attempting (and failing) to simultaneously beat box and play a flute. Though his efforts were completely futile, he was not to be deterred and he kept up the exercise unflaggingly for the better part of a half an hour.

While in line, I noticed an activist walking beside the group encouraging people to vote. My guess is that idea sounded reasonable in a committee days before. “They’ll be lots of potential voters”, I can imagine they said. “We should send out volunteers to register them all.” Reality was different than their supposition because,

1. most were too young, or too stoned to register
2. the majority didn’t seem to be particularly pro-government (more about that later)

I was met at the fairgrounds by friends kinelson and wattwood and the three of us entered the crowded event with great expectations. Did I mention it was blazingly hot? The mercury rose to a hundred and four and the scarce cloud cover provided little shade. This turned the Warped Tour into a clothing-optional event, which depending on how you look at it can be either good or bad. Here’s my opinion– most people should leave their clothing on. My opinion, however, was neither solicited nor heeded, as the masses stripped to their skivvies to enjoy the body pounding music.

The bands were numerous, though you’ve never heard of any of them unless you smoke a lot of weed, and there was a lot of weed being smoked there, including on stage by a band member who announced, “Attention police officers– I’m smoking weed”. The police (their presence apparently a mere formality) did nothing in response to his declaration. Neither did they stop the large, overly-violent shoving matches that broke out with each song. Instead they grouped together in a raised pavilion like a timid herd of elementary school boys during a fifth grade dance. I noticed they wore earplugs.

I wore earplugs too. I’m not a big fan of punk rock, and for those who don’t know, punk rock concerts involve ear-splitting volumes and a lot of incomprehensible yelling. Between songs the vocalist would extemporaneously opine on a variety of topics. I can’t remember what they said, but I did note the frequent use of the f-word. Every sentence spoken by the Warped Tour bands was seasoned liberally that four letter word. Imagine a typical high school cheerleader’s speech, and substitute each “like” with the f-word and you’ll get the picture.

Let’s return to the mosh pits. As the music tempo would increase, so would the likelihood of a mosh circle opening in the crowd. Maddened youth would fling themselves into the center and whip their arms helter-skelter about while contorting themselves as though suffering from convulsions of the most serious kind. Fists and kicked feet met unprepared moshers and non-moshers alike and injures were widespread. Myself, I suffered from a bruised wrist and ankle. I will note however, that I delivered a legend of incredible shoves knocking down the moshers with both alacrity and tempered rage. It was fun.

Something interesting I observed in these mosh pits of death: paradoxically the same group of villains who were earnestly trying to kill you, would swoop immediately to help you up if you stumbled and fell to the ground. I can only assume that, in their view, it is dishonorable to die by trampling, though it’s perfectly acceptable for you to meet your fate through punching and kicking.

There was a lot of angst among both the performers and spectators. The bands favorite targets were: the government, George Bush “the liar”, military recruiting in schools, anti-gays and Mormons. Making fun of Mormons in Utah. That’s both classy and original. In response to this classiness, I threw 5 Gatorade bottles and a hacky sack at one lead vocalist but missed — though I was close many times (he was good at dodging). After the barrage, he voiced that we were a particularly reactive group. I can only hope they’ll attempt to malign Allah during Warped Tour Tehran concert.

By now you must think I attended a raucous, debaucherous saturnalia. I can assure you, however, that the event would have been exponentially more bacchanalian had alcohol been allowed. Thankfully it was banned.

I still don’t like punk rock, but I did have a lot of fun at the Warped Tour. It’s rare in Utah for such a heterogeneous amalgamation of people to be found in one spot. I’m glad I was there to witness it.

Well, I suppose no actual books were involved in the purchasing and registration of our flights, but my point is I’M GOING TO MEXICO! Oaxaca, Mexico, in a few weeks to be more specific.

In all honesty, I don’t know much about Oaxaca, other than it’s fun to say out loud. That and they speak Spanish there. Some of you might wonder what my Spanish language ability is. Two words: muy bien! Actually, that’s entirely not true. I’ve not studied in ages. That will not stop me, however, from dusting off the old flash cards and beginning anew with ernest. At last I get to travel. It’s a good day today!

When I first moved to an apartment on 8th North in Orem a few years ago, the joke was that upon hearing something funny, but not funny enought to laugh, I’d say, “That’s funny.” I guess it’s a little strange to say something is funny rather than to simply laugh at it. It’s true that in the fun section, there is already a funny pics page. Here are a few more images that have been piling up in my My Pictures folder. Some are funny, others just interesting. Enjoy!

(The tale of the Glowing Pickle, electroluminescence in pickles, Organic Illumination Systems, Pickle Electrocution, Glowing Veggies, Electromagnetic Emissions from Food…)

So there we were, hanging out at my apartment playing a rousing game of Trivial Pursuit. Now, I enjoy a good battle of the minds, but this was Friday and this party needed squirt of lighter fluid on the fire, if you catch my drift. That’s when I thought of the ol’ pickle experiment. “Let’s make a run over to Dan’s Foods”, I offered. We all piled into the Xterra and drove down to the grocery store where we purchased a large jar of dill pickles, and a flying monkey toy (more about that later). It must have appeared odd to the cashier for a group of kids to be purchasing only a jar of pickles and a stuffed monkey on a Friday night, but that’s what we did. When we arrived home ‘€œ Wait!, I think my lawyer sister will insist I insert the standard disclaimer here: Warning! This is a dangerous, possibly deadly activity. Don’t try this at home.

I suppose you could if you really wanted to. Just be careful. And you didn’t hear this stuff from me, capiche? Tell ‘em you got it “off the net somewhere.”

So there we were, in the kitchen with the pickles. Well, we really only needed one pickle and, in fact, that reminds me — I don’t like to eat pickles, so if anyone would like a fresh jar of pickles, just drop by and they’re yours. Where was I? Oh, yes, in the kitchen, with the wire cutters. I snipped the end off a power cord, separated the two wires, stripped a 1/2″ of insulation off each wire and stuck the wires into the one full sized, uncut, fresh and crispy pickle. Then I flipped off the lights and plugged in the cord to the GFCI outlet. Zappppp! With loud crackling noises, a puff of steam and smoke, an eerie, bright yellow flashing, flickering light, a sharp, harsh, pickle smell floated through the air. Then, without warning, Whammo! Bam! Poof! The wires got a bit two close and, with a small explosion, shorted out, first frying the power strip I had used as an extension cord and then popping the circuit breaker. We arranged the burned pickle on a plate, drizzled it with ketchup and presented it to nhill (my brother’s girlfriend), a gourmand of national renown, for her review. She was grossed out, just like we had expected.

“Why the glow”, you ask? Well, pickles contain lots of salt (NaCl). When electricity passes through the pickle, “energy transfer boosts the energy of the electrons within sodium atoms. When these sodium electrons drop back to lower energy states they emit energy as light, or glow. It’s the same process that makes neon or argon gases glow in a neon sign”. (Professor Whitesell)

Pickle Movie (thanks to Lori of http://www.geocities.com/CapeCanaveral/Launchpad/6603/glowing.html)

pickle essay: http://magazine.byu.edu/?act=view&a=1718

Note: If you soak the pickle for a week in a brine made with Salt Substitute, potassium chloride, the yellow glow will be replaced by a pink glow from the potassium. http://www.exo.net/~pauld/activities/aaptelectric/glowingpickle.html

References:

http://www.geocities.com/CapeCanaveral/Launchpad/6603/instructions.html

http://members.tripod.com/~Shady_Hollow/Projects/gpickle.html

My buddy cEvans sent me a cool Java Applet that warps images. I’ve set it up under the fun section:

• Warp Kim Jong-il
• Warp Simon Cowell
• Warp Al Gore
• Warp Britney Spears

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, a follow-up to the Curse of the Black Pearl, has been in theatres for a while, and if you saw the first one, you’ll agree this sequel is more of the same (but seven minutes longer).

Like Black Pearl, Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) provides a comedic foil to Will Turner’s (Orlando Bloom) pouty and unsmiling performance. I’m told the ladies enjoying looking at Mr. Bloom, pouts notwithstanding. Personally, I think he would benefit from a little Prozac, Zoloft, or Paxil.

The movie is too long and not horribly spellbinding. Actually, it degraded to plain boring in some parts. On the upside, I did like the music, which I found to be powerful and majestic. Evidently, I’m not the only one who likes Disney pirate music. Scott Asbell, the director of the UVSC Ballroom Dance Company choreographed a dance medley based on music from the Black Pearl. That number won the team the Open British Formation Standard Division Championship in Blackpool, England.

I hate to be a spoiler, but the movie ends somewhat abruptly, paving the way for the third of the trilogy, the Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End, now filming.

Pirate jokes:
Q. Why didn’t the pirate go to see the movie?
A. Because it was rated aaarrrrrrrgggh!

Q. What’s a pirate’s favorite letter of the alphabet?
A. Aaarrrrrrrgggh

Oh! Don’t forget National Talk Like A Pirate Day, Tuesday, September 19th 2006.

A few posts ago, I wrote about things that should go away.

I missed one: printed encyclopedias. Now that we have wikipedia, they seem a little useless, eh?

Even if you dislike the social, collaborative networking style of wikipedia, for the price of a set of encyclopedias ($1,395.00), you can purchase the encyclopedia on DVD ($39.95) 35 times over. You do the math. Wait, I already did the math.

And then we have a plethora (I like saying that word. Go ahead and try it. It’s fun), a plethora of free resources on the web. For example:

• Open textbooks (17,162 book modules in over 1000 books) at Wikibooks
• 18,000 free books at Project Gutenberg
• A few books are available from the Open Library
• worldebookfair.com has over 300,000 free ebooks until August 4th, 2006