Geese Aplenty is proud to support and endorse National Turn Off Your TV Week.  For example, last night after 24 I turned my TV off.  And I plan to do it again tonight after Veronica Mars.  In fact, although I don’t generally watch TV every night, I’m inspired to do so this week just so I have the opportunity to turn off my TV. 

Thanks National Turn Off Your TV Week!  And I encourage everyone to follow my example.

Last year, at UC Davis’s alumni Picnic Day, I didn’t get a chance to make maggot art because there were too many kids in line and eventually the activity closed.  This year I kicked all the kids out of the way and got my turn.

Actually, there wasn’t any line so I just walked right up.  But I was prepared to kick the kids out of the way, and that’s what counts.  The maggot art supervisor said, “Would you like to start with blue?” And I looked at the maggot held between his forceps and took its measure: it definitely had an artistic temperament, and it was clearly undergoing its blue period.  So I said “Yes please,” and then he dumped the maggot in a tiny paper cup full of blue paint, and then I took the maggot out with my own forceps and started him running along a sheet of white paper.  Then I dumped him in red and yellow, and a few minutes later I had a piece of maggot art.

I got very excited about it and my friend Su said “You’re just like a kid.” But no.  My art was much better than all the kids around us; it showed more maturity and perspective, conveying the weight of my relative age and experience.  I think you can see what I mean:

I’m calling it “Humanity.”

Speaking of kids, I also took the opportunity at Picnic Day to get a read on what the kids are wearing these days. There was definitely a trend: college girls wore T-shirts with phrases like

FREE HUGS

and

KISS ME, I’M SINGLE

All of which leads me to conclude that the kids today are more relaxed and upbeat. When I was in school?  The shirts were more like I’M PACKING MACE and EVEN IF IT’S CONSENSUAL, IT ACTUALLY ISN’T.

Sorry folks, I was forced to turn on Captchas for comments.  For a while, I didn’t really mind deleting spam comments from my site each day--it became part of my morning routine, like reading the paper or sending hate mail to Ashlee Simpson, but the volume has really picked up lately.  I’ll continue to try my best to post about nothing worthwhile which will prevent the need for you to comment on it.

April 17, 2006 - Although it’s still several months before the summer driving season, gas prices across the country have either nearly reached or exceeded $3.00 a gallon.  According to senior officials at the major gas companies, an alien invasion in responsible for the price jumps.

“They’re invisible creatures who thrive on radiation,” explained the president of Shell. “They reach out with their radioactive arms and kill people.  We’ve lost several oil tanker captains to their treachery and their burning, crackling talons of death.  We urge all Americans to take appropriate precautions.”

The latest crisis comes after a series of domestic and international events have conspired to dramatically raise gas prices in the United States.

“First it was tensions in Iraq,” remarked a senior oil official.  “Then it was Hurricane Katrina.  Then it was rebel insurgents in Nigeria.  And now an invasion of invisible radioactive aliens.  It really just seems to be one thing after another, and unfortunately it’s the pocketbooks of hard working Americans that seem fated to pay the price.”

Oddly, the president of Mobil described the aliens somewhat differently. “They’re very bumpy and have big steel hands.  Very scary.  My daughter is scared whenever I talk about them.”

When told that the president of Shell said the aliens were both invisible and radioactive, the president of Mobil quickly agreed. “Oh right, completely.  Bumpy and steely and radioactive and invisible.  That’s what I said the first time.”

Several of the companies have co-authored and distributed a memo offering suggestions on how Americans can combat rising fuel costs. 

“When possible, bike to work or join a commuting program.  Try to walk more often instead of driving short distances.  And finally, use geiger counters and other sophisticated radiation-dectecting equipment in order to ferret out and destroy our would-be alien conquerors.”

Oil officials quickly dismiss allegations that they themselves are responsible for the rise in gas prices in order to continue their record-setting profits from 2005.  The president of Exxon told the press, “We’re as dismayed the situation as Americans are.  In fact, all of us gas company presidents are going to meet and discuss how we can resolve this crisis.  We’ll be in the Bahamas for the next month working on the problem.  We’ll get back to you.”

I don’t read a lot of children’s lit these days, but I do read some.  As an adult I have enjoyed Holes, those books starring the kid with the broomstick and the guy who hates him, and Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events.  Last night I had tickets to hear Daniel Handler, the author of the Snicket books, give a talk (thanks Meredith), and he was very funny and I laughed a lot.

And that’s pretty much my post except I’m going to transcribe a few of the questions and answers from the talk in case other readers enjoy the Snicket books as much as I do. The end.

How did you break in as a writer?
My first novel was rejected 37 times.  In those days, I had a deal with myself: if an editor rejected me but did so by saying even one thing complimentary, I’d phone them and ask to have lunch or dinner so we could discuss how I could improve.  I actually got a lot of free food and liquor this way.  I would have been equally satisfied if they just sent the rejection letter along with a bag of groceries.

Is your career where you expected it to be when you imagined yourself as a writer?
In high school I wanted to be Vladimir Nabokov. I haven’t gotten there yet, except for the part when I gain a lot of weight.

Does the final book of Lemony Snicket answer all the questions from the first twelve books?
It answers some questions, but asks many more.  I think it just depends what questions you’re interested in.

Do you consider yourself a San Francisco author, since many of your adult stories are set in the city?
No, but I do consider myself a San Franciscan.  For example, I can be drinking something I bought in the city and suddenly get very excited and proclaim loudly “You can’t get this anywhere else in the world!” and someone else will say “But that’s earl grey tea.”

How do you feel about some of your more obsessive fans?
It is a little strange. I do not personally become obsessive about anything particular.  I do have enthusiasms.  But I never felt the need to go through someone’s garbage.

Describe your experiences working on the movie version of the books.
I wrote nine drafts of the script and then I was fired.  The movie is...well, let’s just say that it takes no money to write a book.  Just paper.  The movie version of my books cost $200 million.  And that makes people nervous, when they have to make decisions based around that kind of money.

Once, I was sitting with the producers arguing about how the movie was being made.  One of them said to us, “Are you cold?” We said no and kept arguing.  And this woman started taking cushions off a nearby couch and putting them against herself.  I suddenly looked over and saw that you could only see her head, poking out of a wall of cushions.  And this woman said “Daniel, you just have to trust our decision making process.” This from a woman who would rather build a cushion fort than go get a sweater.

Do you ever worry about using all those big words in your books that children may not understand?
No, but I’ll tell you what I do worry about.  I was asked that question by a room full of adults a while back, right after the twelfth book of Lemony Snicket came out.  That book was called The Penultimate Peril.  It turns out that half those adults thought “penultimate” meant “last,” rather than “next-to-last.” So I told them “I don’t worry that children don’t know those words.  I worry that you don’t know those words.”

Hey now.  You may have already read it here, but why not read it again over there?

Here’s something I don’t understand: How can MySpace.com be one of the most blocked sites at companies across the country?  I hate My Space.  You can be browsing profiles, and suddenly the profile starts blasting some lame indie song from some lame indie band.  As I’m usually listening to my own music whenever I’m wasting time on the web, it’s the equivalent of someone dropping his pants and mooning me in the middle of the street.  Although I will make an exception for that girl whose profile played the new Jenny Lewis single.  You have excellent taste, Ms. Busty McJuggsalot!  If that is your real name.

Then there’s the profile pictures.  People either upload magazine scans or some hideous misfire in personal judgment in which they’re half naked and lounging on some waterbed, but there’s always some coterie of paid friends and associates who assure the individual “You’re HAWT!” “W0000...sexxxie!” “Can I tappp that?”

Many of the profiles break with the standard format and display yellow text against red backgrounds, or feature hot pink Playboy bunny wallpaper.  These profiles indicate “This profile has been edited with My Space Editor.” I have not used this tool, but isn’t an editor supposed to protect people against their worst design instincts, not encourage them?  Terri Schiavo could have coded a better program.

I understand that sites like My Space are for the young.  Teenagers.  But that’s the whole point.  Most people who work for a living are 25+.  If My Space is one of the most blocked work sites, that means it sees heavy usage among actual grown adults.  What are they doing there?  How does it benefit them?  Do these people also watch The Lizzie McGuire Movie by themselves when their kids are at school?

None of this, of course, means that you shouldn’t invite me to join your network.

I’m not surprised that the Toys ‘R Us near me recently closed its doors.  It was the kind of store that you could walk around in and sense impending death.  The ground was sticky; the fluorescent lights were pale and tired. Customer service had already died--the only way you could talk to a store representative was to buy a Ouija board and conjure someone up.  And even that wouldn’t always work.  “CAN YOU HELP ME FIND THE STUFFED ANIMALS?”........."NO."

The store layout had long since been neglected and forgotten.  Instead of a smooth segue between age and genders, you walked down one aisle full of Barbies and then confronted an army of toy tanks and then found yourself back with Barbies. I had seen stores like this before--all of the K-Marts were like this before the chain went bankrupt.  “Never buy a TV from here,” a K-Mart clerk told me once while pointing at the rows of Sharp televisions, although I hadn’t said anything about buying a TV and had no intention of doing so.  He nodded at me conspiratorially and then went back behind the counter, presumably to finish filling out an application to work at Target--which, back in those days, was to K-Mart what a young, beautiful girl was to Karl Rove.

Anyway, the point is that this year I’m buying a birthday present for my niece online.  I’ve been pouring through the Amazon/Toys ‘R Us site, and my only real guideline is to avoid the toys and games that overtly pander to gender or prematurely encourage consumerism: i.e., “‘Lil Princess Makeup Kit” or “My First Purse!” Once, at the Toys ‘R Us store, I saw a McDonald’s play cart complete with fake food and an apron.  Who the hell gives that to their kids?  Although I guess it’s a nice way of getting the whole “We’re not paying for your college education” conversation out of the way really early.

I don’t know why I bother worrying about the gender/consumerism thing.  At age two, Cameron loves playing with a broken cell phone and an inactive credit card that her parents gave her.  I’m surprised her first words weren’t “Why yes, I would like overdraft protection.”

In order to help guide me online, I find myself reading the customer reviews closely.  I’ve never paid attention to the reviews before--when it comes to books and movies and CDs, I usually know what I want.  But parents know far more than I do about these things.  Or so I thought.  I suddenly realized I was wading through review after review that sounded more like the child than the parent:

“OMG...we’ve STACKED UP THE BLOCKS all over the house!  It’s so much fun!  We make SHAPES like you wouldn’t BELIEVE!”

“LOL!  ROFLMAO!  The Wiggles guitar plays ALL our favorite Wiggles songs!  We can’t get enough of it!  I can’t do my housework, because I’m playing WIGGLES SONGS!  And little Bernie loves it too--when I let him have it!!!!!”

I wondered if I was being judgmental, and not realizing what happens to parents who are alone with their kids all day--of course they probably get into this stuff.  But then I kept reading:

“Hello, this is Bernard--please do not address me as ‘Bernie’ as mother does.  I would like to apologize for her somewhat overly enthusiastic reviewing style; she had far too much caffeine and too little sleep, the latter of which I do take some responsibility for as I detest naptime.  Oh, and as for the instrument, it’s a pleasant diversion, I suppose, although I prefer to let mother entertain herself with it while I teach myself A Fire Inside and Yeah Yeah Yeahs songs on my two-toned Sunburst Stratocaster.”