About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga
Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!
Well, since I enthusiastically heralded my arrival in Hawaii, I guess I should also herald my return to the mainland. We got back yesterday, and have managed to unpack, start a load of laundry, and watch the Battlestar Galactica season premiere.
More to say about lots of things, but we’ll keep those for later 
I’ve been feeling uninspired lately, like my life is stuck in a bit of a rut. To some degree, it is — it’s late spring and for the first year since 2002, I’m not gearing up for some massive summer project that is taking up my time and energy. I’m trying not to let it show in my blog posts, with the result that I’m going in long stretches without posting anything (which is OK, because most of the people stumbling on this site go directly to the page where I mention Christian Chavez’s gay wedding. He’s gay, folks, get over it. From what I can tell from being in the supermarket checkout line, it’s in every Spanish language tabloid known to man). I’m kind of sorry that I brought it up … but weirdly proud of the high readership it’s generated. I *so* need help.
I’ve started on the garden, but we’ve gone as far as we can without professional help (or at least a rented tiller to scour up the rest of it), and since it’s heading toward the end of the month the heart may be willing but the wallet is thin.
As a brief aside, we dog-sat for some friends this weekend — the same friends who take care of Mocha when we’re out of town. Ray picked their dogs up on his way home from work, and by the time I made it home they’d already broken off the jalapeno plant down to the ground, trodden through the oleander, and kicked the gravel every-which-way. Better still, one of the two guest dogs decided that Mocha’s hole wasn’t big enough, so he dug it down to the point where he could lay in it with his head poking out at ground level. He did such a good job of dispersing the dirt that we’re waiting for it to rain so that the hole will fill back in, because that’s the only way it’s going to happen. I created a makeshift fence out of tomato stakes and it kept them out for the rest of the weekend — that and my going ballistic every time I saw one of the dogs heading in that direction. Mutts.
Anyway. I’m also in this weird musical rut — this happens with me, where I acquire or two CDs and wind up listening to them over and over and over and over and over again to the exclusion of just about everything else. At the moment, my iPod is probably tired of playing Eros Ramazzotti’s album 9 (it was his ninth album, hence the title, and for the record I’m listening to the Italian version, not the Spanish), and my car is sick of The Damnwells’ Air Stereo and Keane’s Under the Iron Sea. The worst thing is that I can totally see what’s next: Per Gessle’s new album En händig man (A handy man) comes out on June 12, and that will be stuck on constant replay until well after the New Year. I have no plans to travel to Sweden for the subsequent tour, however, since Sweden is one of the most expensive countries on earth.
My TV viewing has gone down because everything I watch is on hiatus, which is a nice way of saying “not coming back” when we’re talking about Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. I’m growing weary of Lost — I just don’t care who dies in the next episode because it’s going to wind up being someone no one cares about anyway (my money is on Rodrigo Santorio’s character — whatever his name is — because he’s had about five minutes of air time all season).
Rome ends tonight for us in the US, and it should come as no surprise what’s going to happen with the big characters (Octavian wins — as much as we’d all like to slap him silly — whilst Antony and Cleopatra die. This is all basic history), and I have this sneaking suspicion that the two ‘main characters’ of the show — Pullo and Vorenus — are going to have to fight each other to the death for some stupidly contrived-yet-heartbreaking reason. I don’t expect this one to be as gut wrenching as the end of Six Feet Under, which had me depressed for days afterwards. I still can’t hear Sia’s “Breathe Me” without getting a little verklempt.
This evening is also the season finale of Battlestar Galactica, which isn’t coming back until January (!!), and great shocks and surprises are promised. (Entertainment Weekly had the following irritating description: “Of all the characters I thought would be a Cylon: him??” Ugh.) After The Sopranos ends, there won’t be anything to look forward to on Sunday nights anymore. I can’t go back to The Simpsons …
And so, it’s Sunday afternoon. The laundry is in the drier, the dog is tired from her now-departed guests (no walk today), and it’s still threatening to rain … but probably won’t.
Here’s hoping you’re having an interesting Sunday, wherever you are!
It’s the last day of the year, and I’ve been trying to think up some way to sum up my thoughts on 2006. The problem is that I don’t have thoughts on 2006. I was laying in bed last night with a bout of insomnia, squished between Ray and the dog (who likes to take her half out of the middle, if you know what I mean), and it suddenly occurred to me that 2006 was an Olympic year. There were Olympic games, weren’t there? I remember something about Torino and the buzz over a hot young snow boarder who didn’t get any medals. That was such a long time ago…
Anyway.
Personally, 2006 was a fairly decent year. Ray went to Egypt with me (his first ‘real’ trip out of the United States) in the summer, and got to see firsthand why being in charge of a group of people does not in any way resemble a vacation. My folks came another step closer to moving to Austin, which is a good thing. Since I moved to Austin, I seem to only see them once or twice a year, regardless of whether they live in Columbus, Ohio, Ocean Springs, Mississippi, or Memphis. My brother and his girlfriend have settled in Chicago after a little bit of a rocky start to their lives back in the U.S. after several years in Korea. I got what the state of Texas considers a “raise.” And a couple of people that I didn’t enjoy working with at all no longer work at the University.
I started blogging on a regular basis, too. Don’t let’s forget that.
I’ve seen a bunch of lists of things that people enjoyed about this year, so here are my highly subjective picks for the best of 2006:
Best film(s) I saw this year:
Little Miss Sunshine. I understand that a lot of people viewed this as an emperor with no clothes sort of film: a much ballyhooed film that’s a critics darling that just doesn’t deliver in the theater. I know this because that’s Ray’s opinion of it.
For me, I haven’t laughed so hard at a movie in a long time. I enjoyed every single minute of it, and I may have to break down and purchase it on DVD.
The other contender, Volver,which I expect to enjoy highly as well, hasn’t opened in Austin yet, so that will go in the 2007 list.
I also greatly enjoyed Casino Royale, not that I think it was the best film of the year. Another movie that circled me due to circumstance before I finally got to see it is an Egyptian film called The Yacoubian Building.
The book has just gotten a wide release in the U.S. — naturally this was after we had to comb Cairo to find a copy in English because every bookstore kept selling out (it’s been out in Arabic for years). It got to the point where we started acting on rumors that a small mom-and-pop store in a distant neighborhood might have a copy with a torn cover hidden under the counter.
The Yacoubian Building was the biggest budget film ever made in Egypt, with a budget of 30 million Egyptian pounds (about $5 million), and the production values shine through. In Egypt, both the book and the film are risqué – in the U.S., they’re kind of bland, but one has to bear in mind that issues like corruption, fundamentalism, sexual harassment and homosexuality are taboo in film and literature in Egypt, so the book caused quite a stir — and several of the more religious-minded members of the Egyptian parliament tried to ban the film even while it was playing to packed houses every night. Unfortunately, it’s probably not going to get a wide release in the U.S., which is too bad. The copy I saw wasn’t exactly legal, but enough to get the point …
Best book(s) I read this year:
I’m kind of surprised to find myself glowingly recommending a book like Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. In all honesty, I didn’t actually read this book – it was read to me. I’ve been a huge fan of audio books since I started getting stuck in traffic on a twice-daily basis (and since NPR started turning me into a ranting lunatic).
Shantaram is the story of Lindsey Ford, aka, Linbaba — neither of which are his real name — an Australian bank robber who escaped from prison and eventually makes his way to Bombay, where the story opens. The books spans several years, quite possibly includes every one of Bombay’s millions of residents, has enough organized crime to make The Sopranos look like it belongs on PAX-TV, and is written in an amateurish “I must end every chapter with a profound thought” style — and I loved every single second of it.
We listened from late August till mid-December. I despaired on days when Beverly (my co-worker and carpool mate) and I didn’t ride in together because it wouldn’t be fair to listen to the story without her. It’s the sort of story that makes you laugh out loud, weep a little, and wish it hadn’t ended. I don’t care if the sequel is another 28 hour, 900 page read. I’ll be first in line.
Best Show(s) on Television that I’ve Seen
Do I even need to identify Battlestar Galactica as my pick here?
This has been a pretty decent year in Television. My Runners-up (in no particular order):
I’m starting to get over Lost, and I’ve still got a wait-and-see attitude about Heroes and Studio 60. I still enjoy Family Guy, even though it jumped the shark a long time ago…
Most indispensable Web site(s):
Wikipedia. It’s still a work in progress, and God knows that it always needs to be double-checked, but as a first stop, Wikipedia is a good pick. Especially if you need to check the spelling in another language…
The New York Times. I know, I know. Rather predictable for me — but I like the New York Times, and I can’t afford to pay for it to be delivered (not that I’m sure they’d even deliver to me in the ‘burbs), so I stick with the online version.
I could take this list further, but I’m running out of steam.
Anyway. I gave up New Year’s resolutions a long time ago, usually because I don’t ever keep them. For those of us who work in academia, August is a much better time to make “new year’s resolutions.” Not that I did then, either.
I hope, however, that 2007 is a more peaceful year than 2006, and that we get ourselves on the road to national reconciliation. This country is quite a factional mess right now, and it would be nice to stop all the name calling and start working together for once. Of course, that’s something I wish every year, and it never comes true, but for the next ten and a half hours, I can hope, can’t I?
Enjoy New Year’s Eve. Be safe. Be happy. And see you in 2007!
(p.s. Before anyone points out that the title of this post is misspelled, let me explain: I read a headline this morning about “Castro gives Cubans New Year’s message,” except that I misread the title as “Castro gives Cubans New Year’s massage,” so I clicked on the article and expected to read something completely different. I mean, he’s going down the hill, so it’s the sort of weird and eccentric thing you’d expect from him, right?)
Not to be the kill-joy (oh, who am I kidding? I love being the kill-joy …), but I had to share this.
I was in Toys ‘R Us with my child partner this afternoon, and I noticed that there are apparently now Lost action figures. As in, action figures based on the ABC television show Lost. In addition, there’s a Hatch “diorama,” which is grown-up speak for “play station,” now that those two words have another meaning altogether.
Now, call me crazy (“crazy”), but do so many children watch Lost that we have to create action figures and sell them for $14.95 at Toys ‘R Us? It’s not a kid’s show, after all, nor do any of the plot lines inspire me to want to sit down with my action figures and act them out. I did notice that none of the action figures feature realistic starvation action, nor is there a Boone action figure, complete with halo and three days worth of stubble.
What’s next? Battlestar Galactica action figures? Accompanied by a diorama of Baltar’s Fantasy Sex Dungeon, complete with stripper pole for Number 6? (Oh, I can’t wait to see how many hits that gets). ‘Course, if they introduced an action figure of Apollo in a towel, I might have to change my mind about all of this …
I’m not sure whether this is a sign of the apocalypse or a sign of me getting old — but those are the same thing, right?
Am I allowed to have a moment of completely unwarranted smug satisfaction over the fact that The New York Times has a piece about Battlestar Galactica today (In Galactica, It’s Politics as Usual. Or Is It?) that echoes a number of the comments I made in a posting two weeks ago (Musings about a World on Fire)? It’s nice to see the press giving some recognition to a show that’s largely been avoided. It’s also nice to have the New York Times agree with me. I’m sure it was my column that made them take another look (I almost kept a straight face while I wrote that!!). It’s also nice that the plot has been dug out of the hole it left itself in at the end of last season, and that we’re starting to move forward again. I’m all for allegory, but let’s get the story moving already!
OK. Enough unwarranted glee. Happy Thursday.
