My letter to Jim Inhofe

I was alerted to an article in the Tulsa World regarding Oklahoma Senator Jim Inhofe's comments about the Obama birth certificate controversy, and his legitimacy as President. I was irked enough to sit and write an email to his office. Here's what I wound up with:

Dear Mr. Inhofe:

Just to get this out of the way: I'm a Democrat, and as such, I must admit I'm glad to see my party have control of our government for the first time in a long time. Government is cyclical, and I believe it's time to see the pendulum swing in the other direction for a few years.

With all that being said, however, I very much recognize the need for a strong opposition party. I don't want anyone--even those who I would consider "my own"--to have complete, unfettered control of anything. It's important for both sides to have someone standing there to call the other out on their excesses. The concept of America is too important for anything less, which brings me to the point of this message.

I'm sure it's not news to you that the Republican party is at a crossroads right now. From an outsider's perspective, it seems to have lost its way, and no longer appears to be the loyal opposition that is needed to form a balanced government. Something needs to change here, and I fear your comments in the Tulsa World regarding President Obama's birth certificate are only reinforcing a (currently) poor image of the Republican party, not to mention Oklahoma in general.

You used the phrase "benefit of the doubt" regarding his certification, and indicated that you personally feel that the issue should continue to be investigated. My question, then, would be this: do you feel that the people who are pursuing this issue are helping your party (not to mention your country), or are they hurting it instead?

Certainly a man such as yourself, who has been in politics for a long time, can spot a liability such as these "birthers" from a fair distance. I can't imagine they represent more than a small portion of Oklahoma's potential votes. So why continue to support or encourage them?

You are doing your party--my "loyal opposition"--no favors with your stance on this issue. These sorts of discussions are only going to continue to drive political moderates (which are most of the country) away from the Big Tent. And then, where else can they go? Distractions such as this (and there have been many others) are divisive by nature--demanding that all who hear them choose a side. The trouble here is that the division is occurring within your own party. Questioning a sitting President's legitimacy for holding office is not a plank to build a party on, and it's my hope you'll recognize this.

I would like to add that I do very much appreciate the quotes in the article that indicate you want to steer the focus onto more important issues. It's my wish that this comes to pass. We've got a lot on our plate at the moment for Dem and Rep alike, and to guarantee the future of this great experiment in democracy, it's my fervent hope that we can step away from the dramas and the sideshows and get our hands dirty doing the hard work of building our future, together, as one unified nation.

Sincerely,
Bret Mix
Glenpool, Oklahoma

Screenshot for EndUserSharePoint.com web discussion

Screenshot for EndUserSharePoint.com web discussion:
(NOTE: If you're reading this on my blog, please ignore. I needed a place I could post a screen grab. Carry on...)

Devo (Still) Whips It Good

Category: General

DEVO in concert
March 18, 2009
The Palladium Ballroom, Dallas, Texas



Are we not men?, or derivatives thereof, is a rallying cry heard in works of literature through the years, usually used to fire up the troops before a big battle or to inspire courage in the faint of heart. It's typically answered in the affirmative, to denote machismo or to show allegiance to some sort of ideal. However, in Dallas on March 18th, the question was asked, and an entirely different answer came forth: We are DEVO!

They were the very symbols of 80's pop absurdity to most; a goofy sideshow filled with S&M visuals, hazmat suits, and flowerpot hats. To a select few (thousand?), though, they represented something much more. They were the quintessential geeks, the nerd aesthetic made flesh. DEVO was the band all the Chess Club guys (and, secretly, some of the jocks) wanted to be in high school. They had cooler toys than you, made cooler noise than you, and always got the chicks, even with those red things on their heads. They were the Original Spuds.

It was this latter view of the band that made me trek to Dallas a day or so earlier than I had originally planned. I was headed to my friend Bernie's regardless to do a shakedown of the RV we're taking to Burning Man this year, and was having pangs of--nostalgia, maybe? So I happened to wander over to clubdevo.com to order an Energy Dome (it's NOT just a hat, dammit). And there it was: the Tour Dates link. I figured they hadn't worked on anything for a while, but I clicked the link anyway, if for no other reason than my weird sense of completeness. And, of course, they were playing in the same city I happened to be going to.

On a night that I was off work anyway.

Imagine that.

So my friend Ken and I hastily made plans and headed out. With no major RV issues (well, except for when the driver's-side rearview mirror fell off and bounced down the highway), we were able to make it to the show in record time.

I have to admit, even being a huge DEVO fan, I felt a bit silly wearing my Dome and hopping out of the RV to greet Bernie when we arrived. (I felt even siller later on when I was using a walkup ATM and completely forgot I was wearing it, much to the amusement of some people in the parking lot. I waved.) But of course, any self-consciousness vanished completely when we got the the venue, as there were streaming throngs of people wearing not just the headgear, but full DEVO suit, head-to-toe. Not just a few, but dozens. Maybe hundreds.

I was finally among my people. And it felt good.

We got there in time to catch the opening band's set: a more traditional-sounding rock outfit called Onus (I may have the name wrong; please let me know and I'll fix it). The sea of bobbing domes seemed to enjoy the music as much as anyone can enjoy any opening act for any of their musical icons; the crowd was appreciative and excited, but not crazy screaming wild. Not yet, at least.

The openers finished their set, and the crowd and I began our wait. The guys started about 20 minutes late, which didn't bother me at all, as I had good company to stand around with. Besides, hell, I'd waited to see these guys for 25 years, so 25 minutes is nothing. (Man, that time frame is scary when I type it out like that.) I had a beer and we talked about life. Sometimes that's just what you do.

Then, suddenly, no more talking. The house lights dropped like the Dow. The music began, sort of a dreamlike synth concoction, with little snippets of songs here and there. Then, the giant screen. Easily 20 feet high and 30 wide, it began showing what would happen if you took DEVO's career and stuck it in a blender: album covers, Mtv microclips, the odd abstract graphic, spanning 30 years or so, setting the mood and drizzling us with a bit of foreshadowing. The footage, while consisting of a lot of old stuff, was a very powerful presentation; tiny glimpses of always-misunderstood genius that seemed to scream out, with power and truth, that this was no damn nostalgia band. This was the Real Deal, and the guys entering the stage were going to soak us in it for the next couple hours.

The stage was dark, but we could all see the shadowy figures walking up to the mics: it was THEM. On stage, right in front of us. And they were going to play. They got right to it, opening with 3 new (!) songs from... a forthcoming album? WTF? I gasped when I realized I was hearing NEW music. And it sounded just as good--if not better--than the old catalog. The opener was "Don't Shoot, I'm a Man," a title that evidently came from a phrase on the back of hunters' safety vests. For me, this track was easily the best of the three. The title-chorus, while looking kind of unweildy on paper, was as catchy and danceable as any of their old stuff, and had the trademark "think-for-yourself-versus-soul-crushing-conformity" social commentary that flew completely over my head in junior high.

This was followed up with "What We Do" and "Fresh," both very well-done pieces of musical craftsmanship, which were performed with the energy of college kids, the band running from mic to mic, jumping around, dancing, antagonizing the audience, you name it. (It's worth mentioning here that while I liked "Don't Shoot" the best, Ken's pick was "What We Do" and Bernie had good things to say about "Fresh," which tells me they're doing this right.)

After the new stuff, a few brief words to the audience. And then it began... song after song after song of the choicest nuggets from their catalog. This was no mere buffet; this was an all-out orgy of the goodness that is DEVO, sprayed out from the stage in great heaping globs big enough for Spud and Pink alike to fall down and wallow in. "Mongoloid," "Jocko Homo," "Girl U Want." All were represented and thoroughly exercised.

The excitement level was off the scale. This was not a crowd of browsers or casual fans: they dearly craved this, like manna from an errant God. And by God, they knew their DEVO. See, I had thought (due to limited radio success) that I was the only person on the planet that liked "Smart Patrol/Mr. DNA." I have to say that this is my favorite track (I used to joke, "It's two songs in one! For better value!"). The changes of tempo, the bizarrely enigmatic lyrics, and the insane speed of the latter half always added up to a sort of perfect rock-tune recipe for me. And now, in 2009, when they played the little opening synthesizer buzz, my personal favorite track that I always thought nobody else really cared about was greeted with so many screams and cheers that I thought the roof was going to collapse. I think I jumped up and down through the entire song. It's long and it made my ankles hurt, my ears bleed and my heart explode. Seriously, it was one of those moments that are stunning enough to make you take a breath and appreciate the moment around you. No, really, it was that good.

And then, more, more, more of the old songs. Hell, it may have been all of them. I was going to try to keep track, make notes or something. I knew I'd be blogging it later. But I was already having so much fun by then I just gave up and basked in the moment. Besides, you can get set lists from all kinds of fan sites. I'm trying to capture the flavor, man. You know, trying to paint pictures of the odd little moments like Mark picking up pom-poms during "Mongoloid" and doing a choreographed cheer routine (frankly, there's not a lot else for him to do during that one), and the band doing the same steps we all know and love for "Uncontollable Urge," and still being able to pull it off perfectly after all this time.

I thought the evening was fantastic and just couldn't get any better. They had been playing for a while now and the end of the show was coming up. They had done so much material, I honestly couldn't think of any other songs, or how to end the set. Surely, there's some kind of surprise up their sleeves, I thought. But what we finally got went above and beyond anything I could have thought of: they brought out Booji Boy, in the flesh (or at least the latex)... and he spoke.

Booji Boy is kind of hard to describe. He's sort of a weird man-child, played by Mark (last name Mothersbaugh, known in recent years for writing music for commercials and TV shows like "Rugrats") in a rubber mask and what looked tonight like some sort of ministerial robes, with "Booji Boy" written in glitter on the back. The character (to my knowledge) first appeared in the band's film Now It Can Be Told: the Truth about Devolution, from way back in the late seventies. He has a high-pitched, childlike voice, which sounds oddly sweet and innocent (it was Mark through a pitch-shifter or something). "We haven't been to Dallas in a long, long time, and we were wondering what you all looked like!" Booji said, to screams and cheers. And if there was a more perfect end to the evening, I wouldn't have been able to come up with one: Booji began to sing "Beautiful World."

The effect of the visual of Booji and the sweet, sad singing voice went together like hookers and blow. I now can't imagine the song being sung any other way. The only problem (well, not really a problem per se) was the lyric "It's a beautiful world for you/but not for me!" The delivery here made me want to go on stage, tell the poor guy that the world can be beautiful for him too, then give him a big hug and some cookies or a college education or something.

Towards the end of the song, Booji opened his robes from the front, revealing what looked like a ridiculously-aggrandized codpiece, or perhaps a badly-neglected goiter. He began fiddling with this massively-oversized crotch, so much so that I really didn't know what was going to happen in the next minute or so, nor how comfortable I would be with said event. But then, fiddling finally done, his hands emerged with fistfuls of those little smiley-face bouncy balls, the kind you get for a quarter from the supermarket machines. And he began throwing them into the audience, bouncing them off the stage into a forest of outstretched hands. Hundreds, maybe thousands of those tiny balls, bouncing everywhere, glittering in the stage lights. A little gift from band to audience, as if they hadn't given enough already. It was the perfect closing, such a happy note to end the show with. I really hate to use the word, because it's tired and cliche, but I don't care because it's what I was feeling, and I can't lie to the readers of this blog (all four of you): it was Magic.

And then it was over. They didn't do an encore; they didn't need to. Truth be told, I have no idea how they would have followed that. But then, I guess that's as good a summary of DEVO as any: they were always so far ahead of their time that there were moments they were even ahead of themselves.

Almost finally, a big thank-you to the fellow Spud-ette who handed me one of the Booji balls; I was standing directly in front of a speaker and wasn't able to snag one during the show. Many, many thanks, and Total Slack to you. I shall keep it always, or until I lose it somewhere. I believe the band would appreciate that sentiment. Or not.

Finally finally, a very quick note for those of you who were expecting an unbiased review: I'm a FAN. If you want objectivity, read frickin' Rolling Stone. And get off my lawn too. Hippies.

Interim Update

Category: Burn

Nothing much to report at the moment, so just a quick note. The RV is still running. I got a battery monitor for it which I'll try to install over the next few days. Got the truck started as well, after a battery replacement. Next I need to take it to the bro-in-law in Muskogee to let him work his magic on it, get it cleaned, and start driving it to get it back up to speed.

I'm working on an email to the Burning Man group for this year. Want to get a discussion list started so we can get feedback from each other for the road ahead. We may swing by Mount Rushmore on the way home, still figuring that part out.

I logged on to Facebook for the first time since I created the account and can't figure it out. I may mess with it some more when I get home. I've been loath to use any social networking sites; they take up too much time that I need for other things, but I may give Facebook a shot. I keep hearing about privacy concerns regarding their treatment of user data. I'll look into it some more.

Meantime, as always... Ad Meliora!

It. Freaking. WORKS!

(Well, at least it starts...)

Category: Burn

Bernie's visit has come and gone. We were able to sort through a lot of issues regarding times, dates, and milestones (stuff like 'when is the last day we'll jack with the RV and go rent one instead,' that kind of thing). The time spent, though short, was very productive from a planning standpoint.

The actual working portion of our time did not go so well. We couldn't start the RV to save ourselves. Or the generator. Or anything. Frankly, I'm surprised our flashlights worked and nothing exploded when we sneezed. We tried all sorts of methods, as the batteries are only two years old and really shouldn't be shot. Trouble is, after we got the RV to Granny's new place in Glenpool, we never performed any preventive maintenance on the thing. It just sat. For two years.

We messed with it all day Friday. Saturday we took a day off to take care of some other stuff, and Sunday we were back at it. While fiddling with it alone on Saturday, I decided the best course of action would be to take the batteries out and take them to O'Reilly's for testing. Even though our time was short, I didn't want to jack with it right then, and subsequently put it on "the list" to take care of in the coming week.

Then the news reports started talking about the upcoming ice storm. Man, that would be maximum crap to be out of power and heat. But then I thought, Wait! I have a freakin' RV! With, like, heat and power and stuff! And so the fire beneath my buttocks was lit. Bernie and I pulled both batteries early Sunday afternoon, took them to O'Reilly's, found that (no surprise) they were hosed, and bought some new ones. We took them back, installed them, and...

It worked.

Everything. The engine, the electronics, the refrigerator, the AC, all functioning. The genset would cycle up and down (called "hunting," as I discovered), so it's going to need some cleaning and adjustment. But the main thing is, I accomplished my goal: to start both the Brown Beast and the generator. I'd say "Mission Accomplished," but I don't want the generator to take seven years to fix and cost 100 billion dollars. You get the drift.

I'm going to crank it up tomorrow morning and try to find a nearby place that sells LP gas to fill the tank and check that out. If all goes well there, we're set for most anything Momma Nature can serve up over the next few days. If not, we've still got power. Unfiltered, variable, wacky power, but power nonetheless.

It's about to get interesting.

I got a golden ticket...

Category: Burn

Well, the day has come and gone. Tickets for Burning Man 2009 have been ordered. At exactly noon local time, the link popped up on the Tickets page at burningman.com, and, having waited about 45 minutes in queue to place my order, I'm now $440 poorer and cheap-ticket-rich. They should arrive in a month or so.

Everything went extremely smooth for me. The wait time wasn't bad at all, especially considering past years, and the ordering process was relatively straightforward and hassle-free. Others, however, were not so lucky... apparently, after I ordered my tickets, the server took some kind of massive dump and started bailing people's transactions, recording multiple purchases, not ordering tickets at all, et cetera. The message board was chock full o' complaints about various bizarre errors. They were able to freeze the queue and get most of it sorted in about an hour, which is commendable.

I think it went about as well as it could have (server issues happen), but it just makes me wonder... is there, really, an absolutely rock-solid ticketing process anywhere? The Burning Man ticket issues sounded a lot like when I was trying to order the Eagles tickets for the first show they played here. The BM crew must have planned for extra capacity (there was some mention of "extra servers" somewhere on a thread), but it still failed, at least for a while. Maybe it's not a problem that can be solved by hardware; maybe it's the software itself (I have no idea what either Burning  Man or the BOK center is using). Anybody got any experience with this?

Burn Plans take slight delay

Category: Burn

My campmate and co-conspirator Bernie was to come up this weekend to help prep the RV. However, everything was kind of thrown together at the last minute, so we've agreed to delay the initial prep for 2 more weeks. This is fine at this point in the game, especially considering that it's still early. Plus, that gives me another couple of weeks to get some other things together at home (namely, finishing the clutter removal from the garage). I've cleaned out the portable building and gotten rid of about half a dozen boxes of old stuff that I needed to toss anyway, so the timing should work pretty well. I'm unconcerned, as I said, because it's still January. Now, if march should roll around and we still haven't tested the RV, um... panic would not be too strong a word.

Here's our timeline:
The Man burns in 239 days. This is 33 weeks away, or 16 biweekly meetings. If we get started in two weeks, that puts us right at the 30-week countdown, with 15 work weekends to get our act together. Again, that's enough time to do what we want to do, as long as we stay focused.

The first part is getting everything tested and fixed on the RV. The last thing we'll be testing is the plumbing; I don't feel comfortable testing it now because of the ever-present possibility of freezing temperatures.

So, for the next two weeks, it's all cleaning and sorting. Which is what we need at this stage anyway. I guess you could say we're preparing to prepare. Sounds sort of like an excuse, but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

More coming soon, stay tuned.

Until next time... Ad Meliora!

A (somewhat) flying start to 2009

Category: General

Well, here we go again.

That seems to be my default comment when this time of year rolls around. It's not a sarcastic thing, just a recognition that there are things in the past that I did that really didn't work out the way I wanted them to. Kind of like the last time I went to Burning Man (see previous posts for more info; I'll likely need to give a detailed account at some point, just not now).

So, here's the deal. I've now installed ScribeFire on all PCs I use, touch, or look at funny on a regular basis. I'm trying to remove excuses for not updating my online presence, which has been flagging badly in recent years. My plan is to keep some kind of record of where I'm at and what I'm doing, so maybe someday down the road I can look back and laugh at what an idiot I was, or conversely, how right I turned out to be. It could go either way.

I've decided to try to break the posts into categories for easy reference:

Burn: Burning Man-related info. Tales from the road, playa dust, that sort of thing.
Tech: My adventures with various gizmos and the ins and outs of SharePoint 3.0. (Expect a lot here.)
Film: My on-again, off-again attempt to make a feature.
General: Um, general stuff. You know, like this post.

I know myself well enough to NOT make any promises this time around on keeping the blog up. But I guess we'll take it as it comes and see what happens. Regardless, you're not paying for this, so you can't have your money back.

So until next time... ad meliora!