The look at the happy center of the Birthday circle in Maya's pre-K last Thursday.

The look at the happy center of the Birthday circle at pre-K.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

As promised, a few pics of Maya's Birthdaypalooza follow.

Maya's Indian fairy princess costume for Purim. Facepainting provided by Mr. Daddy's Salon.

Maya's Indian fairy princess costume for Purim. Facepainted services provided by Mr. Daddy's Salon.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Birthday angel costume, found at a consignment store (must have a story attached somehow)...

Birthday angel costume, found at a consignment store (must have a story attached somehow)...
Originally uploaded by emaggie

A mini-corndogs dinner smile from a few larger corndogs at the Wedgwood Broiler.

A mini-corndogs dinner smile from a few larger corndogs at the Wedgwood Broiler.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Now THAT's the way to outfit the Birthday girl for a soccer party.

Now THAT's the way to outfit the Birthday girl for a soccer party.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

They just don't make pinatas (probably in prison) like they used to.

They just don't make pinatas (probably in prison) like they used to.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Five years of hard labor, and I get...a cupcake? Actually, that feels 'bout right.

Five years of hard labor, and I get...a cupcake?
Originally uploaded by emaggie

"Searching for - a slightly younger Medicare-eligible cub"

 We're in the full-on spirit of Maya's Birthday countdown (it's tomorrow).  Grandparents visiting, party-planning all up in our collective grill, presents piled up in the closet - being on the cusp of the Big 5 is just about as cool as it gets for a kid.  Plus Maya gets the added benefit of having her birthday fall on Purim - the coolest by miles Jewish holiday on the calendar.  She's dressed up today as an Indian fairy princess (or a fairy Indian princess) wearing part of a beautiful outfit Sarah brought back from Nepal.  Expect plenty of photos of all the festivities to be posted over the weekend.

I need to hit a few quick low points to get them off my mind.  First of all, "The Ricky Gervais Show" on HBO is getting slammed as a waste of time.  I agree.  It's five years past cool.  But for his Mel Gibson introduction while hosting this year's Golden Globes, I renewed his pass for ill-advised comic efforts.  Still, my rating - a shoulda-been-an-F squishy D-minus.

I saw an ad early, early this morning on ESPN for a dating site named CougarLife.  I probably should be embarrassed to admit that I had to look at what they offered based on a commercial that would have even been cheesy on MTV in 1989.  No big surprise - creepy site with a sketchy intended purpose.  But self-possessed "Cougars" visiting the site encounter a default search for "Cubs" with an age range of "35 to 55".  So how old is a cougar these days?  90?  I think there needs to be an intermediary term.  I suggest possum.  Just the right dose of confusing double-entendre ready to roll in that.  You're welcome.

Hope you also waste the opportunity today to say something important with equally distracted baloney.  Rock on.

Say "hi" to your mother for me

With the Olympics winding down, I'm glad that I was reminded early this morning of one overriding principle that this quadrennial event promotes.  Hot people getting seriously busy with one another.  I applaud the fact that 100K condoms are handed out in the Olympic Village.  These athletes, after all, are in tip top condition and the finest physical specimens that their respective countries have to offer.  Not to mention that everyone in a northern global position this time of year innately seeks to share body heat, even if Vancouver is currently warmer than Dallas.  I was reminded by the replay of yesterday's ice dancing competition, as seen in replay form as I stretched before a run this morning.  The Canadian gold medal pair of Whatshisname Again and the virginal Tessa Virtue, especially.  Tessa Virtue, for the sake of Pete.  Followed by the Russian pair of Skanky Bonkski and Vigor Meshovits.  Or whatever their names are.  Regardless, thank you ice dancers of the world for putting some heat back on the ice.  Even if it's sibling heat, which is basically just wrong.  Except (apparently) in either Israel or New Jersey.

A few quickie reviews.  The new album by Hot Chip ("One Life Stand") has been in constant rotation for the past week in my brain.  Very throwback to 80s sounding clever pop, very hard not to get hooked on.  In a month I may never listen to this album again.  But for now, I give it a solid B rating.

The new HBO series "How To Make It In America" is a load of utter cast off runway trash.  Lindsey Lohan's label created more buzz.  I want this show canceled, and Mark Wahlberg should go back to underwear ads after producing this dreck.  My rating - a flat D-minus.  I'm only not pulling the F-rating out of storage because of Tessa Virtue.  But I'm not sure why.

Hope you say find another tagline to hang on Marky Mark that sticks like glue today.  Rock on.

Totally minor question - why do only figure skaters get a "do over" at the Olympics?

Like most 'Mericans, my interest in the Winter Olympics ebbs and flows.  Recent Games haven't thrilled me.  And I'm most definitely not one of the those that only cares about the medal count.  In fact, I most sincerely loved the Winter Games as a kid when we basically sucked competitively as a nation.  I remember fondly wishing that Bill Koch could somehow win another medal in cross country skiing when he was way past his prime to go with the surprise Silver he got in 1976.  I think Bill Johnson winning the men's downhill in 1984 was my favorite moment (even moreso than the Miracle on Ice in 1980), well before he ended up living in his truck.  I just used the Google to see that the USA won a total of 8 medals in '84.  East Germany and the Soviet Union won 24 and 25, respectively.  Hell, Finland had 13.  So it's a little weird to see such domination in Vancouver.   But I'm realistic.  Kudos for all the success.  As soon as the Games are over, most viewers will forget how much they enjoy, say, the combination of cross country skiing AND shooting rifles.  I don't expect ice fishing or wood toboggan racing to become  demonstration sports soon.  Still, this is a great fortnight of sporty entertainment.

Tiger Woods's strangely somber news, um, release earlier this morning was bad TV of the first order.  Did he perform well?  I'll leave that question to the ladies.  The consensus is a big "yes".  But when it comes to this morning, I don't think he kicked the ball anywhere.  Except possibly off the wall and right back at his crotch.

Seattle is drenched in sunshine and daytime highs pushing 60 degrees.  Vancouver is the exact same climate.  But they have that Olympic cauldron lit downtown, so it probably feels a few degrees warmer.  Weird.  I'd love to get Glenn Beck's take on that.

Hope your own momentary address of larger planetary issues merit more than an anecdotal rimshot today.  Rock on.

"Up periscope. Avast, Ye Lower Queen Anne Mateys."

"Up periscope. Avast, Ye Lower Queen Anne Mateys."
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Maya and I spent a good chunk of Sunday at the Pacific Science Center, marveling at what can be accomplished on such a day when no NFL football could be shared. The butterflies, the planetarium, the games of sensory skills, and - oh, yes - the periscope. Followed up with a lunch at the nearby Kidd Valley. In paradise, all days would be some form of this.

Maya's Kidd Valley coloring contest entry that she deemed too good to enter.

Maya's Kidd Valley coloring contest entry that she deemed too good to enter.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Trying to reclaim "napalm" as a term of endearment? Good luck, brother.

I don't think this has ever been true before.  But there just may be an article in "Playboy" worth buying the magazine for that in all ways exceeds the interest in the dirty(ish) pictures of the nekkid ladies.  If you haven't heard by now, John Mayer gave an interview where he really veered far afield of what's cool to say about being black versus being white in America.  The talk about sex, however, is where this amp gets turned up to eleven.  Especially on the scale of hilarity.  His rant on Jessica Simpson being the sexual equivalent of crack cocaine is pants-peeing-level funny talk.  So unless you're one of the 14 remaining subscribers to the magazine, I suggest finding a way to get your hands on a copy of the March issue.  The online version appears to be a red herring that I'm sure will be exploited to the hilt by the internet's murkier elements, if my use of the Google this morning is an accurate representation of what's being done with the search terms "John Mayer Playboy interview transcript" of even just "John Mayer".  Regardless, I give his shtick the absolute highest recommendation for those willing to wade into the dark waters of necessary pop culture inanity.

I've been doing some blogging for the last few weeks for the no-longer-a-newspaper version of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer.  I suggested a group blog to the PI months ago, and a handful of us launched the expanded and sillied-up version of a neighborhood blog.  For the time being, I put up a Monday post.  It's really an antiquated model for running a "blog" - more 1990s online journalism thinking than anything else.  But if you're looking to see a few things about my part of Seattle written with a just slightly more journalistic bent, you should give it a looksie.  I'll keep you posted if I blow the doors off of any neighborhood snark in desperate need of cross promotion.  Until then, I'm just seeing how much I can get away with before the editors start actually doing their jobs (getting in a "BOOBS!" joke this past Monday being my most sophomoric example thus far).

Hope your own instincts for self-promotion are tempered by pop culture diversions today.  Rock on.

Sweet deception

Walking by the bakery in our nearest Whole Foods yesterday, I noticed a few real life examples of why we don't use Roman Numerals anymore.

 

It's maybe a little harder to read on the cake.  But there it is.  Repeatedly.  Super Bowl XLVI (or "46").  Since we're actually awaiting Super Bowl XLIV (or "44"), I pointed it out to a sweet blonde baker who blushed and shrugged.  

 

Maybe I should have offered to buy a few cupcakes at a discount to protect the children and random cheeseballs at today's Seattle viewing parties from this sacrilege.  I'd be willing to bet if someone bought an equivalently mis-decorated sweet vegan treat for a PETA event that a few letters to "Mother Jones" or Rachel Maddow would soon follow.  With well chosen adjectives and a very snarky font.  

But I let it go.  Still, if you encounter one of these cupcakes, dear Seattlite, take a stand for justice in our antiquated numbering systems and say put down the damn treat and go for a Rice Krispie bar instead.  And watch out for similar mistakes in your Olympics-themed frosted fun.  You're welcome.

If she reacts this way to teeth polishing, watch out when you see her "donut!" face.

If she reacts this way to teeth polishing, watch out when you see her "donut!" face.
Originally uploaded by emaggie

Maya had a regular dentist visit yesterday. She's now totally stoked to be able to floss between her molars. It's like this kid is an alien from the Planet Nothing Like Me Growing Up. No cavities, all smiles.

Smart smart smart smart smart.

Here's something I didn't expect to be saying anytime, well, really ever - Sarah and I just spent a quick weekend in Salt Lake City.  And it was pretty cool.  Decent coffee (Salt Lake Roasting Co. - a bit rough around the edges, but they know what they're doing).  A totally funky all-about-the-details boutique hotel (Hotel Monaco).  Good sushi in a vibrant, fast-moving cafe/bar (Takashi - one of the only lively spots we found downtown).  We really liked the cafe named Coffee Garden in the 9th and 9th micro-neighborhood that provided above average people watching along with average to slightly better coffee (don't bother with the sandwiches or quiche).  Beyond that, we ventured over to Park City for a chunk of the final competition day of Sundance.  No celebs cited.  Thankfully.

SLC also benefited considerably from having Sundance screening films on a bunch of screens.  We saw "Waiting for Superman" that won the Audience Award for documentaries.  I'd give it a bit of a harsh rating - a straight C.  The style is just what you'd expect (brutal realism joined by quirky, animated cut segments) and the subject is a simplistic take on what's wrong with America's primary school education system.  According to this movie, charter schools=good; bad teachers=bad.  The kids shown struggling to get slots in better schools in tough areas (DC, NYC, LA, etc.) all break your heart.  But aside from prompting some good conversations about a tough problem, this doc won't solve anything. 

The best cultural moment, though, involved the Mormons.  We went for a walk through the Temple Square Saturday night after dinner.  We playfully dodged the young and friendlies.  And when we ventured into the building where the Tabernacle Choir performs where some dude was doing his bizness on the monstrous pipe organ, an adorable old elder swooped in to see if we wanted to take pics or come back Sunday morning for music and prayer.  Maybe cookies, too.  Sarah was quick to say that we had an early flight, which was a lie (we left closer to noon).  So we're headed to Mormon hell (or at least she is if our case comes up for review).  Regardless, after we got back to our hotel, we watched that brilliant "South Park" episode about the formation of the Mormon religion.  The perfect counterpoint to the real thing.  Most importantly, I agree with the sentiment that I respect their right to believe whatever it is that they believe.  Just don't ask me to join.  And since I didn't see any of them at the coffeehouses or the bars we spent some time in, I'm glad we got a chance to meet them (in principle) on their turf.  Because they have a nice place.  Not sure if "this is the place" as they like to say.  Potaytoe, potahto.

Hope your own travel guide adds a few surprising pages today.  Rock on.