Cosmos

Earlier today I was looking through my book, Cosmos by Carl Sagan. I loved that PBS series. Sagan made learning about the universe fun. I remember Johnny Carson (and other comedians) making fun of Sagan's way of saying "billions and billions." Anyway, he's been dead over ten years. I checked out his website and came across this by his widow, Ann Druyan:



20 December 2006
Dear Friends of Carl Sagan,

Chances are, if you have come here to join me in an act of remembrance on this tenth anniversary of Carl’s death, you are already well aware of the numerous scientific and cultural achievements of the man. It is likely that you know he played a leading role in the exploration of our solar system, that he added to our knowledge of the atmospheres of Venus, Mars and the Earth, that he opened the way to new branches of scientific investigation, that he attracted more people to the scientific enterprise than perhaps any other human being and that he was a conscientious citizen of both the Earth and the cosmos.

Maybe you are one of the many who were nudged into a different life trajectory by the gravitational pull of something he said or wrote or dreamt. In my biased estimation, he was a world historical figure who beckoned us to leave the geocentric, narcissistic, “supernatural” spirituality of our childhood behind and to embrace the vastness – to come of age by taking the revelations of the modern scientific revolution to heart.

Today, I want to share with you some things about Carl that are not as well known, moments that have more to do with his goodness than with his greatness. These are recollections that have come to me throughout the past ten years. I offer them to you because these memories make me feel so impossibly fortunate and because I want this personal Carl to live on, as well.

I see him striding off the gangplank of a Circle Line tour boat on an exquisite June day, about a week after we had declared our love to each other. Somehow, we decided that circumnavigating the inspiring towers of Manhattan would be the ideal setting in which to plan our lives together. As we disembark, after mapping out the journey that the next two decades would fulfill and exceed, I glance back towards him and I see that dazzling smile. He takes the sweater that had been casually tied around his neck and he throws it high up in the air in a gesture of exultation. For a moment the blue sweater hangs there against the blue sky and our eyes meet.

I see him putting his napkin aside and getting up from the table countless times in restaurants all over the planet to properly greet yet another person who wants to thank him for “giving me the cosmos.”

I see us riding around the Ithaca countryside at dusk with seven-year-old Nick Sagan. The top is down on Carl’s little orange sports car. He has adopted the mythic persona that would later become a favorite of Sasha and Sam’s, too, the “Freenie,” a visitor from Ganymede, a moon of Jupiter. The Freenie has all sorts of arcane information about the outer solar system but he is absolutely clueless about how things work here on Earth. I recall our children savoring the heady, novel pleasure of being able to set an adult straight and possibly grasping for the first time a radical notion -- that the way things are done here and now, is not an immutable, universal constant.

I see Carl lying on the living room floor, holding one-year-old Sasha high above him and moving her this way and that as he cries “Unidentified Flying Baby!” and she giggles with delight, always wanting more.

I see him walking with two-year-old Sam in the small forest near our house. Sam spies something on the ground and toddles over to retrieve it. He then solemnly presents this special twig in the shape of a “y” to Carl and Carl carries it with him for the rest of his life.
I hold the magical little “y” twig in my hand. Ten long trips around the sun since I last saw that smile, but only joy and thankfulness that on a tiny world in the vastness, for a couple of moments in the immensity of time, we were one.

Ann Druyan
Ithaca, N.Y.

In Celebration of Black History Month

I'm reading this book about the underground railroad.














Hodgepodge:

1. The coroner in the NOLA hospital death case after Katrina still can't decide if the deaths were homocides. Why a case against the doctor and two nurses was brought in the first place is odd.

2. Benjamin Franklin hitting on Pam?? Michael decided that Franklin was a sleazebag and that the stripper gave him good advice.

3. I still have a sore throat and cough. I think I'll only work 'til noon.

4. It's Friday.

5. It's Groundhog Day. If any animal deserves its own day, it sure as hell aint the groundhog. Those things are ugly mofos.

6. My car needs washing--inside and out.

beyonce irreplaceable

I realize I'm not in the age group this song is targeted for, but I like it. It's overplayed on the radio, but it's bouncy.


To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
Everything you own in the box to the left
In the closet that's my stuff - Yes
If I bought it nigga please don't touch
And keep talking that mess, that's fine
But could you walk and talk at the same time
And It's my mine name that is on that Jag
So remove your bags let me call you a cab
Standing in the front yard telling me
How I'm such a fool -
Talking about
How I'll never ever find a man like you
You got me twisted
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I could have another you in a minute
matter fact he'll be here in a minute - baby
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I can have another you by tomorrow
So don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable
So go ahead and get gone
And call up on that chick and see if she is home
Oops, I bet ya thought that I didn't know
What did you think I was putting you out for?
Cause you was untrue
Rolling her around in the car that I bought you
Baby you dropped them keys hurry up before your taxi leaves
Standing in the front yard telling me
How I am such a fool -
Talking about
How I'll never ever find a man like you
You got me twisted
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I could have another you in a minute
matter fact he'll be here in a minute - baby
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I will have another you by tomorrow
So don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable
So since I’m not your everything
How about I'll be nothing
Nothing at all to you
Baby I wont shead a tear for you
I won't lose a wink of sleep
Cause the truth of the matter is
Replacing you is so easy
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
To the left
Everything you own in the box to the left
To the left
To the left
Don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I could have another you in a minute
matter fact he'll be be here in a minute - baby
You must not know about me
You must not know about me
I can have another you by tomorrow
Don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable

Presidential Material

Another Contender

Reheating a Soufle?

These guys were IT for me in the early 80's. Loved them. Drove three hours to go to a concert of theirs in the middle of Florida. Wall to wall people and I had to pee so badly.

Check out Sting's cheekbones! Anyway, the group Police is reuniting for the Grammys.

Mostly for Spidey

LOS ANGELES - Bob Carroll Jr., a pioneering television writer who worked on all of Lucille Ball’s TV shows, including “I Love Lucy,” has died. He was 87.
Carroll, who had been in failing health for the past month, died Saturday, family friend and fellow TV writer Thomas Watson told The Associated Press on Monday.
Carroll and Madelyn Pugh Davis, his writing partner of more than 60 years, were working on comedian Steve Allen’s radio show in the 1940s when they learned Ball was looking for writers for her show, “My Favorite Husband.”

Rest of article

Dinesh D'Souza is D'fucking D'nuts

Blaming Liberals for 9/11

Monday Stuff

I have a sore throat and a cough. Blech.

LP has a doctor's appointment at 11 today so I have to go pick him up and then drop him back off at school afterwards.

It snowed again yesterday and the temperature was in single digits. Nasty stuff.


Must be great to be Steve Carell. Last night at the Screen Actor's Guild awards he won in Best Ensemble for a television comedy, The Office, and Best Ensemble for a movie, Little Miss Sunshine. He must be a good luck charm.

In mid-winter, a taste of summer

A white lily and bi colored lupine

New Blogger Bug?

I tried to put a picture on the "New Blogger." It uploads it okay and then it says (as the old one did) After you click "DONE" the picture will appear. Problem is the word Done is not to be seen. Anyone else having that problem?