Archive for the 'Family' Category

The Art of Embarrassing My Dad on His Birthday

Happy Birthday Dad

Dad does not share his daughter’s enthusiasm for social media. In fact, if anything, its something he goes out of his way to avoid…
hero20100127
…this kinda stuff.

Imagine my surprise when my brother reported my Stepmother –in response to his new found obsession with the iPad– had come up with an idea gift for a gift for one of the most difficult people out there to get gifts for.

He’d been watching Steve Jobs video demonstration religiously.  Apparently, the name didn’t put him off. Nor did the fact that it wasn’t paper.

Analog History

It’s not as though Dad isn’t a computer person.  In 1984, thanks to my Mom, the Speier family was an inaugural Mac adapter. In the 90s, during my college years, Dad provided my first Powerbook and even pushed a modem on me when I had to clue as to…you know, back in the day…

As far as “pads” go (and, yes, its also difficult for me to resist the urge to insert the “maxi” prefix, punctuated by girlie giggles) for as long as I’ve known him, Dad’s been very particular about using those standard spiral bound reporter notepads he routinely purchases in bulk along with the NASA developed Fisher bullet shaped space pens he’s always used.  In other words, Palm Pilots, Crackberrys, iPhones — never held any appeal for my dad.

Yet, there was Stepmom, Mathilde, insisting that this is what Dad keeps talking about. So Mathilde and Bro and Sis-in-law (with little bean on the way) and me all chipped in and presumably, when these monolithic ten commandments becomes available in March or April or whenever it reaches D.C., Dad’s gonna be among the first.

Can you guess who that cute little baby in the photos is?

DadBackInTheDay

Can You Believe My Dad Doesn’t Trust Me With Digital Photos?

Far as Dad’s squeamishness about social media is concerned, I’d no idea why.

From time to time he is loathe to send digital pictures to me and says things along the lines of, “you’re not going to put that on Facebook, are you?” Its almost as though he harbors this fear that I might deliberately post an emberassing picture of him on my blog and it would end up all over the internet.

And why would I do a thing like that?  Especially on his birthday..give me SOME credit, okay?

Ohhhhh, whadda cute pudgie little baby…and whadda big head…ohhh, so, soooo cute…HI Dad!

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Cat on a Plane

From Daniel and Jamie’s

Am concerned Kee-hap’s transition from Daniel and Jamie’s West Hollywood paradise to NY’s Arctic front when we head to NY tomorrow. And it’s more than just weather I’m concerned about.  Kee-hap a great traveler and makes friends wherever she goes so it’s not the social aspect I’m worried about either. It’s the ascent and the descent. Specifically, the part when her ears pop. I know the entire time its happening cause she wails and wails and its not like I can just tell her to swallow or chew gum or something.

From Daniel and Jamie’s

Really wish the airline would let me hold her during this part of the trip.  I mean, okay, I understand why cats need to fly in carrying cases because last time I flew with Kee-hap, I waited until the fasten seat belt sign had gone off and then opened the case just a little bit so I could pet her and try and calm her down after the ear popping trauma and before I knew it, Kee-hap was bolting down the aisle.  In order to retrieve her I actually had to ask row after row of passangers, is there a cat under your seat? as the flight attendant reprimanded me for endangering the lives of everyone on the flight (how this is possible given the fact that the cockpit has security doors?)  That wont happen tomorrow, though.

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Sustaining Exurbia

Nick Roberts just responded to yesterday’s Exurbia post saying how impressed he is with Max, Hannah, and Lily’s grasp of Exurbia and then challenged them with the following questions:

How sustainable is it?
What happens after the end of oil? and…
What if the internet doesn’t work?

From Exurbia

Max: I don’t care about the end of oil but without internet I’d die.

Hannah: We’d be completely alone in the world.

Lily: And we’d never, ever be able to meet anybody.  We couldn’t even call anybody.

Hannah: We wouldn’t be able to get out of Exurbia.

Lily: No, we wouldn’t be able to get out of Exurbia in our lives.

Max: We have seven Macs.

Jason: Eight Macs, with Max. 
(Jason is the dad, btw)

Max: Any my iPod Touch.

Jennifer: Who left the door opened?  We don’t want to leave the door opened because of snakes.  Rattlesnakes.  Saw a four foot long one the other day.
(Jennifer, is the mom)

And thanks to yours truly, you can now (as of yesterday) discuss Nick’s questions with each individual family member on his and/or her respective personal blog.  Here are their urls:

lilypiette.blogspot.com
hannahpiette.blogspot.com
outoftheboxorganics.blogspot.com
slowlifeadventure.blogspot.com
jasonpiette.blogspot.com

From Exurbia

Photo of Jason and Lily, blogging in Exurbia.

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Malibu, Exurbia

From Exurbia

I asked my cousins Hannah (age 10), Lily (age 7) and Max (age 12) to blog with me about Malibu, Exurbia.  We started by taking turns typing Exurbia blurbs:

From Exurbia

Lily’s Exurbia Blurb - Exurbia is some where out of the city, it is some where were we live, it feels like your far away from shops, and anything. It looks like nothing but tree’s and wild all around you. the only other living things we see are wild animals. One wild animal could be a coyote, or a mountiain lion, or a deer.

From Exurbia

Max’s Exurbia Blurb - I don’t have much to say about living in Exurbia, except that it is not really Exurbia it’s isolated Exurbia. We are fifteen minutes away from any civilization.  We’re the Exurbia of Malibu.  Every town has its Exurbia.

From Exurbia

Hannah’s Exurbia Blurb - No, civilization is right down the road! There is a restaurant called Neptune’s Net, just 5 minutes away! The bad thing about living in Exurbia is that say, you don’t have any milk, and you have a biscotti, which is the only thing that you can eat in the house, you have no milk to dunk the cookie in, so the biscotti is rock hard! But the nearest grocery store is 15-20 minutes away, its not worth driving that much for a gallon of milk. Also, if you are a kid, you don’t have billions of neighbors who have kids to play with, so it is hard to meet new people.

From Exurbia

Susanna’s Exurbia Blurb - There’s a lot of light in Exurbia, and I like how you can diffuse it at different times of the day, and feel time pass.

From Exurbia

Hannah then pointed out that we still need to define Exurbia since readers might not know what Exurbia is. A good point given the fact I’d only learned about Exurbia yesterday when Nick Roberts, who designed the home with his wife, Cory Buckner, told me that living out here on the farthest edge of Malibu was living in Exurbia. So, I decided to transcribe our attempt to collaboratively define Exurbia. At Max’s insistence, I am putting “collaboratively” in quotation marks.

From Exurbia

The Definition of Exurbia

Hannah: I think we have to define what Exurbia is.

Susanna: Okay.  What is Exurbia?

Lilly: Exurbia is somewhere out of the city.

Max: Basically where nobody is.  A town that really isn’t because everybody moved into the suburbs.  It’s basically a ghost town.  Where nobody lives.  If Malibu was a heart, we’d have pins and needles.

Hannah: What?

Max: Because pins and needles is when you don’t have enough blood.  If Malibu was a heart and people were blood; we’d have pins and needles.

Hannah: Which is when you don’t have enough blood.

Max: What’s that sickness when you don’t have enough blood in your body or something?

Hannah: It’s not a sickness.  It’s just when your foot goes all tickly.

From Exurbia

Lily: Can I say something about Exurbia?

Max: This is amazing.  You’re just, like, writing.  She’s writing down everything we say.

Lily: Oh, I know what I wanna say.

Max: I like that I can say anything and everybody will read it.

Lily: Okay, I know what I wanna say.  Exurbia is.  Somewhere.  Where there’s basically no, um.

Max: The government should like hire you for those people at interviews who write down what the suspects say.

Hannah: Don’t interrupt Lily.  Otherwise this blog is going to get boring.

Max: You wrote down—

Lily: –now, nobody interrupt.  Okay this is what I’m gonna say.  Exurbia is somewhere where there’s no buildings or cars or streets or houses or pollution.

Max: Well, yeah there is.  It floats up.  You can see the smog from where we live.

Lily: uh.  and there’s gonna be.  there’s like.  no.  No traffic lights.  And there’s no grocery stores.

Max: And this place caught on fire as well.  Like a long time ago, though.

Lily: Max, don’t interrupt.  I’m trying to say something.

Max: Yeah, but you’re just blabbering on.

From Exurbia

Hannah:  Max, don’t interrupt please.

Max: You constantly interrupt me.

Lily: This is what I wanna say.  Just stop it Max.  I think that Exurbia is somewhere where there is nothing that you see in a city.

Max: It’s warmer here.

Hannah: No, no, no.

Max: No, no, no.  It depends on which suburbs.  Because we’re a suburb of Point Doom which is closer to the sea and the sea makes it cold.  It’s true.

Lily: Okay but this is what I wanna say.

Max: We’re also a suburb of a Thousand Oaks.  Which is much hotter than here.

Lily: This is what I say.  That Exurbia is nothing like a city.

From Exurbia

Hannah: You already did that.
Max: You said that already.

The People of Exurbia

Hannah: Okay.  I’m going to give my explanation of Exurbia now.  Exurbia.  Is basically the mountains or the desert where its the wilderness except for some occasional houses.  There are other people living in Exurbia.  We know two or three.  Like.  four.  We know a lot of people that live near us.  That also live in Exurbia.  It’s not like we’re the only ones here.  The whole mountainside full of people.

Max: Well….full

Hannah: Still quite a lot.  I think Lily and Max are exaggerating on how unpopulated Exurbia is.

Max: We may be exaggerating but you’re underestimating.

Hannah: There are many other Exurbias than our mountainside.  All over the world.

Lily: Okay, this is is.  Well, I think Exurbia.  Well, actually.  We.  I only know two people.

Hannah: I know much many.  I know one, two, three, four, five six, seven.
Max: Oh, seven’s a big number.  It’s just an itty, bitty…

Hannah: It’s just that you don’t know anyone, Max.

From Exurbia

Click here, if you’d like to read an earlier Hannah, Lily and Max post.

Click here to read their next adventure in Exurbia

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Thanksgiving Road Trip With My Cat

Having mastered all the DIY pet-friendly travel methodologies pertinent to the Chinatown Express, United Airlines and the New York Subway system, my orange, tiger-striped tabby cat, Kee-hap and I are now Cali bound.

We are now driving those crazy-ass canyon zig-zag roads that wind through the rockies.  Occasionally I pull over to give Kee-hap some stretch time out of her carrying case (assuming Kee-hap Houdini hasn’t already taken the initiative on that one, herself) and water to drink (which she never does) and kitty treats (which she sometimes takes) before stepping out of the car myself, taking in the inky skies, dark enough to reveal galaxy clusters.

Listening to The Teaching Company’s Black Holes and Fall of the Roman Empire lectures on CD as I drive.  Had forgotten how much I love gunning the limits of time and space via the interstate.

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Mad Men Season 3 - Episode 12 “The Grown Ups” - chronologizing other people’s memories of the Kennedy assassination

From Blog Archive

The Fog of Chronology

What year was Kennedy assassinated? After tossing and turning over the fog of chronology half the night, I needed to know.

Lay awake thinking after finding out. 1963.  That was 20 years after the end of World War II — the same distance between now and the first Gulf War.

Will distances between historical events preceding my existence always seem greater than distances between historical events I can recollect?

The Demographics of AMC’s Character Driven Mad Men

I’m actually not sure what the Mad Men demographics are but going by the disproportionate percentage of air time devoted to Lipitor, Viagra and Clorox, I’ll guess that the majority of Mad Men watchers remember where they were when Kennedy was assassinated.

The Grown Ups,”  Mad Men’s Kennedy assassination episode

Sunday, November 1st, Mad Med episode, The Grown Ups, was the penultimate finale of Season Three and I can’t help wonder how next Sunday’s season finale will get anywhere close.

We have the satisfaction of knowing the historic outcome and significance of Mad Men’s chronological collisions in advance of the characters knowing.  This gives us access to their losses and their misunderstandings.  Their discoveries and their disconnects.

I just can’t get enough David Carbonara’s music, by the way.  Those melliflous counterpoint that begin a pause and a heartbeat after a clipped stream of dialog ends.  Why isn’t more television like this?

The Mad Men show I watch is different from the Mad Men show that Mom watches

Mom insisted on replaying the two Mad Men Season 2 episodes that I was featured and uncredited in –Three Sundays and Six Month Leave– over and over in a way that only a mom can.

Mad Men is the black and white television screen I never had

Mad Men is the corridor to those custom framed, soft toned hand painted photographs on the wall of the guest room that my Bubby once had.  Mad Men is a photo album full of square shaped black and white snapshots of my newlywed collegiate parents holding a simese cat.

From

From Susannaspeier.com
Mad Men is the font of the copper colored “flour,” “tea” and “sugar” canisters that once lined my Buby’s kitchen countertop and now lines the countertop of my mom’s kitchen.

Mom insists television receptions were not all that bad.  In fact, all her friends seem to agree they were actually quite sharp.  Does the distortion came from Mad Men creator and writer, Michael Weiner’s own fog of chronology, then?

Click here if you’d like to submit a Mad Men Politiku to my Huffington Post column

Click here for reviews of other blogs following Mad Men Season Three

Click here for a babbley but well intended (was new to blogging and didn’t get how spacing for the web and headers worked) and comprehensive description of my experience working as a featured background performer on the Mad Men, Season 2 episodes Three Sundays and Six Month Leave.

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Original 1984 Apple Macintosh M0001 Computer Revisiting

Crazy but true, Mom actually hung on to the very same 128K M0001 Macintosh that Dad purchased shortly after the-most-expensive-commercial-to-date launched said iconic prototype in the midst of the 1984 Superbowl. Directed by Ridley Scott and perhaps the most prophetic commercial in television history, it only aired once and once was enough. Enter: the dawn of the digital happy face.

And so here it is, 25 years later and here I am, Marsha Collier’s “eBay for Dummies” by my side, running this eBay auction. This German guy, Lars who I met through Retromaccast has been with me every step of the way, even going so far as to create customized diagrams, to help me on my way towards a working computer again.  While it may not be the Gene Roddenberry’s Mac (which, coincidentally, just went up for auction this week as well) it’s got an archival integrity that is hard to match, thanks to my mom, a retired librarian, who kept almost all of the fliers, documentation and even a couple of the original boxes.

From Vintage Macs

Simply Shameless Ebay Shop Shill: So, as my goal is to get it to a worthy new owner, if you’re a collector and wanna check it out and perhaps even place a bid, here’s the link.

The names of the original creators are etched into the inside shell of the original M0001 models. Folklore.org has the entire story of the signing party and an image of the original signature sheet created February 1982. According to Andy Hertzfeld who wrote the post, this was a very conscious effort on Steve Jobs’ part.
From The Macintosh M0001 Turned Inside Out

He thought of himself as an artist and encouraged his team to think of themselves that way, too. Of course that’s all obvious now, in retrospect. When I think about the promethean spirit driving those signatures in a world still dominated by “Basic” and “Pilot” and “IBM” is has to have been one of the fiercest humanistic moments in the history of personal computing. It also makes Ridley Scott’s stream fusing and metaphoric layering all the most dazzling and the experience of uncovering it, last week when picking the computer up after an internal hard drive repair, that much more satisfying.

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Mom’s Carousel Menagerie

Mom can tell you everything about these. When and how they were made. Sometimes even by who. She had acquired all the horses before I was born. As a result, some of my earliest memories are of these horses. I remember spending long stretches of time studying one isolated pattern until I had completely familiarized before moving on to the next.

At different times in those early years of pattern recognition the shapes and colors came to mean different things. Characters wandering, lost searching for a fairy tale or buttons on a television set. Of course, my height changed as the context did. The saddle edge eagle and the mane, once so elusive were eventually at eye level, yet the mouth and ears remained out of reach. Growing taller meant gaining eye-level access to additional details. Returning to the horses now, as an adult to photograph all these familiar details made me sad beyond belief. Mom can’t keep them, as she had always planned on doing because she’s moving into a smaller house. Thus, they need to be sold. The horses —made by Hershel and Parker— are the real deal. Mom went to great lengths to get them restored properly. The bunny and the frog are smaller recreations of the real deal. Now I’m sad all over again. A Velveteen bunny type sadness. Well, okay, so long as they end up at a loving home or a place where they are appreciated as deeply as they have been thus far, I’m okay w/ it. Not like the wooden carousel horses are gonna know. Okay, look, its just plain weird being a human being, sometimes.

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Kee-hap’s Meditation on the Key of C Featured on Justcatssleeping

My friend, Stefan announced he was collecting pictures of sleeping felines for his brother Eric’s new blog, Justcatsleeping and of course I though of my cat, Kee-hap.  With orange tiger stripes, meowmix disposition and (usually) amber eyes, she’s just meant for this kinda thing.

Kee-hap is really asleep in this one

Problem was, Kee-hap loves to be photographed.  Way too much.  So much so, that sound of the case of a newly recharged digital camera battery snapping out of its case will rouse her from the deepest slumber.  So, by the time I’m through adjusting the focus, her whiskers are twitching and she’s sniffing the lens

That night, I was watching Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette on DVD.   And I don’t care that it got booed at Cannes and panned by the critics, it told history in a way that’s never been done before and brought an often inaccessible era right into the here and the now in this extraordinary way and Kirstin Durst characterized Antoinette in a complicated and compelling way.  The highly criticized soundtrack made it all the more sublime.  But back to Kee-hap, okay.

521px-Marie-Antoinette;_koningin_der_Fransen

So I’d finished the movie, and Kee-hap, sensing the shift of attention, was now positing herself on the sofa’s edge, like an absolute Monarch.  I threw a neon orange ball across the room and as Kee-hap was chasing after it I sent Stefan an email to assure him and his bro that there was, indeed, interest in the project,  “but right now (she’s) in the key of C and mad clean thru, as Henry Miller would say, she  “has magenta eyes, like old- fashioned vest buttons.”

Now, as you read this, Kee-hap is sleeping in pixelated perpetuity on Eric’s justcatsleeping blog.  And this is because, the very next afternoon, I managed to successfully snap Kee-hap in various stages of pre and post meditative slumber.  It helped that I loaded the recharged batteries beforehand.

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Snowshoeing my ancestry by way of the Bering Strait…sort-of

According to the US Snowshoe Association snowshoeing dates back to Central Asia, something like 6,000 years ago
Sounds totally crazy until you think of it in the context of the last ice age and when the ice sheet covering the Northern Coast was only just starting to mild-up and melt away, it makes total sense.

BeringStrait6000yearsago
A couple thousand yeas later, some additional ice meltage and then Mongolian mass migration.  Crossing the Bering strait, land bridge from Russia to Alaska and then pouring into modern day Alaska, Canada, Americas and bringing their snowshoes along with.

My grandmother used to speculate that our line of Ashkenazi Jewish maternal ancestors were once Mongols.
Theory is, that the Koshubas (named changed to Koffer to protect the idiocy of the a-linguistic dufus’ on Ellis Island who decided to change their name) and my Grandmother’s ancestors Mongolian had, over the course of time, migrated to the shetel (Yiddish word used to define a teeny tiny Jewish peasant village where people starved, walked barefoot in the snow cause they couldn’t afford shoes and got beat up by cossacks) from Central Asia, same way the Inuits had.  They didn’t do this by walking across a then, land-bridge, obviously.  The bearers of my maternal line XY chromosomes, however, had nevertheless, according to my immigrant Grandma, been Mongols back in the day.

Okay, so I forget the exact migratory trajectory her speculation followed.  I do, however remember that she found the evidence of our lineage apparent in the way my eyes look when I smile.  So, while I have no idea whether any of this Mongolian migration stuff is true or not, I love the fact that she always stood behind it and that her genealogical conjecture; citing my eyes and smile as evidence of the Genghis in us all.

StandingIna4footTallTreewell

Do I concur with my grandma’s stipulation? I’ve no way of knowing whether to believe it or not.  My take, however, is that if the Central Asian nomads –our alleged ancestors– had managed to bring their snowshoes (which were modified stone slabs at the time) all the way across the Bering Strait (ergonomically evolving along the way, evidently, into the snow shoes vastly improved upon snowshoes worn by Inuits and by Native Americans) with snowshoes intact, then surely my own ancestors would had the sense to take them to the continent next door, when they settled into Poland.  And things obviously didn’t go down that way.

With that in mind, how in the world, could these speculative ancestors of mine have gone from nomadic Mongol inventors of the snowshoe, to barefoot while migrating across the cold Ukrainian tundra over the course of time—it just doesn’t makes sense to me.

s00zDanSteamboat1My boyfriend, Dan, (the guy snowshoeing with me in this pic, taken a few weeks ago, just outside of Steamboat Springs, CO) ordered this DNA tracing kit from National Geographic.  It’s part of something called, The Genographic Project.

The Genographic Project

Once it arrives in the mail, you use it to swab your cheek, send the swab in to National Geographic and they run it through the lab and then, a month later send you a detailed breakdown of your ancestral migration.  As in, National Geo will actually trace it down to the common ancestor and I’ll finally be able to find out whether or not my grandma was right about the way, way, back Mongolian lineage of our ancestors.

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