Not that there’s anything wrong with that…


We guess http://canoelover.blogspot.com is written by a woman (51%), however it’s quite gender neutral.

http://genderanalyzer.com/?url=canoelover.blogspot.com

In touch with his feminine side,
  Canoelover
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Sitting in a coffee shop…poaching their wireless…



…writing copy.

Stephane Grappelli and David Grisman playing over the stereo.  I need to come back here more.  They also have an excellent collection of Epipremnum pinnatum plants.
Cybercanoelover
P.S.  The Froth House, Allen Street, Madison, Wisconsin.
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Old blacksmiths don’t die…


…they just buy bifocal safety glasses.

I broke down and bought a few pair from SafetyGlassesUSA.com and now I’m set.  It’s blacksmithing season now that I can run the forge without melting everything else in the garage.  Time to get it hot and hit it hard.
Respectfully submitted,
  Canoelover (+1.50)

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My kid is smart because of a bumper sticker…


My children are very intelligent.  They clearly got the best of both of their parents’ genes.  They both get good grades, and have been on the honor roll since honor rolls were invented.  This is not to brag, it’s just a fact.  If I wanted to brag. I’d consider putting a sticker on my car to point it out to anyone driving behind me.  Or not.

This tendency for parents to bask in the reflected glory of their children is a little disturbing.  Being proud of your children is great…justifiable, even.  But to shout it from the bumpers of your minivan seems to be counterproductive.

This silliness, of course, spawned a host of parodies, mostly mocking parents who think that someone will see their bumper sticker, pull up along side them, honk, roll down their window and shout, “Hey, you must be an exceptional parent to have such an intelligent child!  My heartiest congratulations!”
The first parodies to appear seem to be the ones from dog lovers / dog owners.  As cute as this was (for about a week or two), it’s now tiresome.  First of all, the smartest dog in the world is dummer than the dummest student.  I hate to say it, but it’s true.  Dogs are a lot of things, but they’re not wired for standardized testing.  They are, compared to honor students, dumb as a bag of hammers.
Now it seems like being an honor student is a bit of a pariah.  Maybe it’s because our society likes people to fail, as it makes the average individual feel better about themselves (cif. Festinger’s theories of Social Comparison).  I dunno.
So while I think it’s silly to put a bumper sticker on your car with your child’s IQ on it, I think it’s almost as silly to parody it.  That said, here are some hat I found that I like very much, my favorite being the one I found at Sundance last summer (the chihuahua one).


Respectfully submitted,
Canoelover
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Bug mystery


My neighbor Jackie came over a few days ago with a medicine bottle.  She told me she found this little bug walking on her arm.  I took pictures but it was moving fast and I didn’t have enough light for a good field-of-view.

I have a lot of respect for Jackie because she is senior citizen who does not automatically kill bugs just because it’s in her house.  A lot of folks in her generation squish first, ask questions later.  Jackie is a good Buddhist, she just doesn’t know it, and neither does her Lutheran minister.
So I looked on WhatsThatBug.com and struck out.  Anyone a closet entomoligist?
Respectfully submitted,
  Canoelover
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It’s the thought that counts…


“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”  – John Donne

So a few days ago I won an award, the first trophy I have received since High School, for some musical thing, best tuba solo or something.  The last athletic trophy I received was probably from t-ball, and everyone gets them for t-ball.
So imagine my surprise when I was sitting in a dinner the other night and the Chairman of the Board, Robert “Bear” Bass, announces that the winner of the Chairman’s Award for 2008 is me, Canoelover.  Only they spelled my name wrong on the trophy.  I don’t know how they got is so far off…Kanulover I could understand, but Darren Bush doesn’t even come close.
The Chairman’s Award is an annual award given to an individual who exhibits leadership and dedication to the Paddlesports Industry.  This simply means that I dived on more grenades than anyone else this year, and to be honest, some of those grenades were doozies. Fortunately for the crowd, I had lost my voice, so it was the shortest acceptance speech I have ever given, a raspy “Thank you.”
So it was nice to be recognized.  It makes me think of all the people I need to recognize for what they do for me in my life, and believe me, it’s significant.  Times like this I think of John Donne, the splendid philospher to knew a little bit about islands and bells tolling and such.  Donne knew that as much today as any time in history, we are all interconnected, so to those of you who are my friends, this award is as much for you as it is for me.  You give me strength and allow me to share that with others.
So thanks, you all deserve it.  Good job!
Respectfully submitted,
 Canoelover
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Florida (in theory)



So here I am in Panama Beach, Florida, in the Marriott Bay Point Resort Village.  The picture above is the view from my balcony.  It is lovely.

Strangely, I haven’t touched water since I got here, and I’ve been in hermetically sealed rooms except for a quick walk between buildings.  My experience has been that Florida is all overly-refrigerated.  When I got to my speaking room, the thermostats were set for 66 degrees.  It is, for the record, 68 degrees outside.
To add insult to injury, I saw a great odonate fly by (a Gomphid from the looks of it) and I was in the middle of moderating an outside discussion group (30-35 people).  Could not even stop to wonder.  I just looked up wistfully and continued soldiering on.
The other weird thing is that I am staying, due to a strange set of circumstances, in the Ambassador Suite.  Yes, this is my room.  It is weird.  I was tempted to sleep on the couch cushions on the balcony but it was a bit too chilly for that since the blankets they give you in Florida are not what I would call insulative, really.
Upside:  Really, really nice people.  The staff in the hospitality industry get it here…they are actually, mirabile dictu, hospitiable.  The maid service is fantastic, and they don’t even know they’re getting a tip yet.
Downside:  I lost my voice right after I finished all my presentations and classes.  I am doing my board member duties by sign language.
Respectfully submitted,
  Canoelover
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It’s cold…but it’s not icy



Ian had his Cross Country banquet last night.  Though not the fastest kid on the team, he still had a good season, improving his performance consistently, except for the last race where he forgot to eat.  No, really.  A 15 year-old boy forgot to eat the night before.  Instead of sucking down a pound of pasta, he ate some Wheat Thins and went to bed.  It was bonk city the next morning.  3 minutes off his p.r.

Anyway, it was a nice cool morning, but no snow or ice so I asked Ian if he wanted to go for a run.  He said, “Sure,” and headed for the treadmill.  “No, a real run.  Outside.”
He gave me the glassy-eyed look that a goldfish saves for special occasions.  Said glassy-eyed look lasted several seconds, his jaw slacking as his brain rushed for ways to back out of the outside run.  Something clicked.  “I don’t have the right stuff for the cold.”
“I happen to have an extra set of wool tights and a nice winter bike jersey that’ll be awesome.”
Silence.  Goldfish eyes.  Click.
“I don’t think it’s warm enough even with that stuff.”
“I disagree, and you won’t know until you try, dude.  So get dressed and let’s go.”
Silence.  More goldfish eyes.  No click.  He turned and went upstairs to get on the cold weather running stuff, called his friend Piljah (from CC) and asked if he wanted to go with us.  After some coaxing he said yes too.
We had a nice run, about 35 minutes, 7 km or so, and everyone seemed content.  Ian didn’t complain once, and I think he feels sorta like one of the hard core runners on the team, which is cool.  I was silently hoping we’re run into some of his team, at which point I’d pretend not to know him so he wouldn’t have to be seen running with his geezer old man.
Respectfully submitted,
  Canoelover
P.S.  Yes, I do believe the youngest member in the family is now the tallest.

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Leaf Monsters



For those of you who live outside the Midwestern U.S., you may not be familiar with a phenomenon called leaf pickup.  The amount of deciduous leaves that we generate coat our yards a foot thick, and to maintain air quality, the city bans burning of leaves.  Given the average person’s ability to deal with a fire outside, I think that’s a fine idea.

But what to do with leaves…they do make excellent compost, so that’s what we do.  In specially modified garbage trucks and little leafmobiles (Jeeps with giant brooms on the front), the take the leaves we stack neatly on the parking strip and push them into the street and scoop ’em up. Cool.
If you want compost later it’s free for the taking at various sites in the city.  Good leafy compost.
As a kid I never understood Peanuts…having enough leaves to rake into a pile seemed to be impossible, since I grew up where trees were rare and precious.  Now I drag 20 x 20 tarps of leaves from the back to the front curb, maybe a dozen times.  This is an embarrassment of riches, for sure.

Respectfully submitted,
  Leaflover (today anyway)
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Last odonate of the year…


So today I’m sitting at a picnic table with a media rep, and guess what lands on my note pad?

Yep. A lone S. rubicundulum.  November 4th, people!  WAY too late.
So unless we get another week of super warm weather, this is the last time you need to endure another one of my boring odonate blog entries.
——
Voted today.  Number 362 in my precinct, and I think we were up to 1879 when Stephanie voted after school.  We’ll see 90% in our precinct at this rate.
——
Back to odonates…the rep I was visiting was a little taken aback by my sudden interruption and exclamation that there was a Sympetrum rubicundulum on the table.  She was indulgent.  At least she didn’t shriek in horror at our harmless little friend.
——
Stephanie just looked over my shoulder and asked, “Are you odonating?”
I lied.
Respectfully submitted,
  Canoelover
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