Category: What the…?

No, nothing’s wrong, I just haven’t gotten around to posting anything for a week-and-a-half, which I admit is unusual. Thanks, Judy and Jon, for checking in to make sure everything was OK.

It’s not that I haven’t wanted to say anything, just that I’ve spent time commenting elsewhere, and that the topics I have wanted to write about would have just sucked up more time than I felt I could additionally spare. I did go to the zoo and watch the elephants part of one afternoon, I spent a morning canvassing for Steve Novick’s senate campaign (as well as attend his fundraiser in Portland last week), and some other things. Went to see Iron Man.

In smart car related news, we passed the 1,000 mile mark yesterday, driving out to the Hood River orchard of my cousin Jason, to see his sister Carrie, my aunt Juliana and uncle Keith, and Carrie’s new baby. Oh, and my exuberant first cousin, once-removed Gregory, seen here just before we went zooming over the byways around the orchard.

A photo of my earliest verifiable ancestor on the Plant family side: Edward Uriah Plant, born in 1851 in Cork, Ireland, raised in London, and an emigrant to Canada in the 1880s.

According to STREETSBLOG, where I saw this video (via First Draft), this automated bicycle garage in Tokyo costs about $1 (¥100) for a single use and ¥1,800 for a monthly pass. It has space for 9,400 bicycles.

Recumbents, hi-wheelers, trailers, and others might not fit very well.

The Hindenberg Certainty Principle
If it’s big, it’s got a Nazi symbol on it, and it’s filled with flammable gas, it’s certain to blow up.

My parents’ 1969 Ford F150 pickup on the one side and our new 2008 smart fortwo cabriolet on the other.

You want a piece of exceptional glass sculpture? Barbara found this old airport runway light bulb at a thrift store for millions of times less than what one of those garish, all-too-ubiquitous tentacled things would cost. It sits on top of an old 1930s refrigerator in a cradle handcrafted from a rubberized clothes hanger, in front of the Wall of Cats.

Speaking of the Wall of Cats, when Barbara brought home the frames, I made this little arrangement. Art is where you find it.

When we were staying in a (relatively) budget motel outside of Birmingham last fall, we were struck by the entertaining choice of wall art, which varied a bit from the bland variety you usually run across in a motel. The photo on the left, from the wall of our bedroom, is a fairly representative example.

On the other hand, when I checked into a nationally-known motel brand’s location near the Pentagon Sunday night, I found a portrait of George Washington and a copy of the Declaration of Independence next to the bed.

Jasmine cat on a platter.

Damn! I had an idea for a post this morning but I’ve forgotten what it was….

Barbara’s entry into the Anthony Bourdain “No Reservations” FAN-atic contest.

Based on her award-winning 1993 article for Willamette Week.