Postcards from the Counterculture: A Fosco Lives! Special Report

Unless you live in a college town, you may not be familiar with yesterday's 4/20 holiday (it's "clever" because yesterday's date was 4/20). It's that day of the year when pot smokers come together at 4:20 PM to celebrate "cannabis culture" by smoking up--often in public. It is a particularly popular holiday at two major US public universities (as noted in this article in the NY Times): University of Colorado at Boulder and (wait for it) Fosco's own University of California, Santa Cruz (UCSC). In fact, the holiday has become so closely associated with UCSC that a picture of UCSC's 4/20 event is used to illustrate the 4/20 entry on Wikipedia. (And yes, the above picture is of UCSC's mascot, the Banana Slug, smoking pot.)

The event has always been unsanctioned by UCSC, of course. However, as the holiday has become larger and more public in recent years, the UCSC administration has become more concerned about the questionable PR. This year, UCSC sent an email to the parents of all first-year students asking them to discourage their sons or daughters from participating. As the email suggested (with keen insight into the mind of today's youth):

"I encourage you to talk with your student about his or her plans for 4/20. Ask direct questions about the choices they make and express your expectations regarding marijuana, alcohol or other drug use. Although students may not initiate discussion on this topic, your opinions and expectations can influence their behavior."

"Golly, Beaver, I sure hope you aren't planning to take the pot on April 20th. Remember that anyone who offers you drugs is not a true friend."

But that was just Prong ONE of UCSC's two-pronged attack on 4/20. Prong TWO was to essentially shut down the campus for the whole afternoon, in an attempt to prevent easy access to the Porter College Meadow (traditional home of the gathering). This meant shutting down the bus routes, closing the West Entrance to campus, and beefing up parking enforcement. Of course, there was added benefit of inconveniencing any non-pot-smokers who remained on campus: "Can't get home? Blame the potheads!"

Normally, Fosco would strenuously avoid an event like this, considering that he considers any group larger than twenty-five people to be an unpleasantly large crowd. And when that group is made up of pot-smoking hippies... well, let's just say that Fosco has aesthetic objections to "cannabis culture." However, this year found Fosco in class at Porter College until 4 PM on 4/20. Essentially, Fosco was a within an easy quarter-mile walk of the whole gathering: could his inner anthropologist resist a glimpse of the spectacle? Would a giant crowd of pot-smoking hippies be enough to convince Fosco to stay on campus for an extra half hour?

Yes, of course, I went to look. You would have too. And this is what I saw...

By 4 PM, the people walking toward Porter Meadow had become a steady line (see Monterey Bay in the background?).


It's kind of like watching pot-loving ants, no? And look at the smoke cloud.


Here's a view of the line looking back from the Meadow:


One thing I didn't mention yet: this was the hottest day we've had this year. It was 97 fucking degrees. (And yes, even with my canteen of water, I was regretting the quarter-mile walk by this point--anthropology is hard.) Of course, the heat did give the Santa Cruz Sentinel the opportunity to use the "twice-baked" pun in their coverage, so I suppose it was worth it.

One option for beating the heat was to smoke in the woods that surrounds the meadow:


Other heat-beating options I observed: umbrellas, parasols, shirtlessness, sweating profusely. These photos were taken around 4:05 or so--note the giant crowd and smoke cloud.



For the first time in the history of UCSC's 4/20 event, there were some party-crashers: local Christian nutballs showed up with signs to protest. Seriously!



Don't these guys have something better to do? Like picketing AIDS funerals? Or throwing blood on abortion doctors?

This guy was my favorite:


Who would have thought that God could hate so many things! Luckily, this guy has made a list for us. Can we go to a closeup? Yes?


Let's just take a moment and convert this sign into a list.

People Who Will Be Judged (Presumably Unfavorably) By God

• Sex Addicts (tough luck, David Duchovny)
  
• Baby Killers
  
• Witches
  
• Dikes [sic] on Bikes
  
• Pencil Neck Weak Kneed Gutless Men (hmmm...)
  
• So Called Christians
  
• Pot Smoking Little Devils (Bingo!)
  
• False Religions
  
• Lewd Women (well, duh!)
  
• Porno Freaks
  
• Homos
  
• [something I can't quite read]
  
• [another something I can't quite read]
  
• Sports Nuts (Seriously?)
  
• Perverts
  
• Racists
  
• Money Lovers
  
• Two Faced People (sorry, Harvey Dent)
  
• Rebellious Women
  
• All Non-Homemakers (wow, I bet these guys get lots of dates)
  
• Party Animals
  
• Drunkards
  
• Jesus Mockers
  
• And Catholics...
  

Whew. I don't know about you, but that's the kind of God I could really get into. Watch out, Sports Nuts.

Anyway... the golden moment, 4:20 PM PDT, finally arrived and the smoke got even thicker:






These pictures don't quite capture the moment adequately--for one thing, you can't hear all of the drums. Consequently, allow me to offer the brief video that I recorded (and uploaded to YouTube):



Sadly, I cannot make this experience available to you in "Smell-O-Vision" because, as my college roommate David noted, the whole thing "must have smelled unspeakably awful." I cannot disagree.

All in all, I managed to stave off incipient heat-stroke until about 4:30 when I gave up and walked back to my car at Porter. I wasn't the only one leaving:




Caption: "We'll always have these stupid memories."

Walking back, I passed the only official UCSC presence at the event:



And what did I learn? Well, for one thing, I thought there would actually be a more communal atmosphere at this thing. I had envisioned people passing joints and conversing. Instead, everyone just broke up into their own friend groups--and most of them weren't actually very nice about it. I had kinda been expecting to be offered some smoke (not that I would have indulged), but that didn't seem to be the vibe. I've been to much friendlier football tailgates. And I've had more pot offered to me at concerts.

For another thing, I wonder how many actual UCSC students were there. Walking down, I was in front of a group from Berkeley. In the Sentinel coverage, they interviewed students from everywhere but UCSC: UC Berkeley, UC Davis, CSU-Monterey Bay, Cabrillo College. N.B., some kid from Berkeley was named in the Sentinel coverage as "Skittles." Delightful! Also suprising: I didn't see anyone I knew there. I've been at this school for three years and have a pretty large circle of acquaintances: colleagues, grad students, current students, former students, etc. Of course, it's possible that my students saw and avoided me...

Random 4/20 observations:

• You could not pay me enough to eat the vegan food being sold onsite by the Hare Krishnas.
  
• Hippie guys are not very attractive.
  
• God is surprisingly wrathful. That's probably bad news for my afterlife plans.
  
• Too many people brought their dogs (which are prohibited on campus). And too many of them were pit bulls.
  
• I thought there would be more music (of the non-bongo variety). Where were all the people I saw walking with acoustic guitars?
  
• It was SO FUCKING HOT.
  

All in all, I think I learned some important lessons. And I hope that I have created a precious anthropological record--especially for those of you who wonder what undergrad life is like nowadays.

Oh, and of course, I will NEVER do this again.

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Fanks Easther Bunny, Bawk Bawk!

I don't quite recall the religious significance of Easter, but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with Jesus bringing his son's pet rabbit back from the dead. Of course, free thinkers question whether Jesus actually resurrected said rabbit or whether he just managed to find an almost identical one at the local pet store. Even so, pretty much everyone agrees that the rabbit was named "Mary Magdalene."

At any rate, here are some Easter-related titbits.

First, a photo that cracks me up every time:

Is it wrong to root for the bunny?

Second, for all of you Goth readers of Fosco Lives!, here's a rabbit funeral dance, choreographed by the morbid and talented Wade Robson. Oz and Fosco have loved this dance ever since they saw it last summer, particularly the leg hops that start around 2:21.



Yes, Virginia, bunnies can be terrifying!

Finally, because no day is a holiday without Fosco's adored Patti Smith, here is her song "Easter" (with one of those strange homemade videos that happen on YouTube):



On Easter, Fosco is always reminded of one of Patti's best lines: "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine." Word, Patti.

"Hello, Chieftains!"

The inaptly-named "Muesic Tuesday" continues...

As Fosco mentioned earlier, today is apparently some sort of Irish-themed holiday. Consequently, there should be some mention of Irish music today. Unfortunately, Fosco loathes any kind of traditional Irish music. Not to mention his recent feelings about U2.

Luckily, there is one Irish folk song that Fosco can stand. It's this duet between Brak and The Chieftains. There is much to love in this clip (and Fosco laughs out loud every time he watches it), but the best part may be the way Brak says "Chieftains."

Now that is inspired zaniness. Happy Saint Patrick's Day from Brak, The Chieftains, and Fosco!

Irish Accents

It has come to Fosco's attention that today is Saint Patrick's Day. If you want to giggle for a couple of minutes, please enjoy the holiday greeting at the top of the righthand column. It's a tribute to the irrepressible Irish accent by Fosco's own college roommate David Lat, filmed this past weekend at the San Francisco St. Pat parade.

Dreams of Burpengary

Fosco loves to learn about new places. And so today he inaugurates a new feature called "Where in the world..." As Fosco peruses his site traffic reports, he often comes across visits from strangely-named places all over the world. Consequently, every so often, Fosco will offer a brief report about one of these weird or wonderful places. This feature is his opportunity (and yours) to learn more about our large (and paradoxically small) world.

Today's focus is on Burpengary, Australia, which sounds like nothing so much as an uncreative nickname for some kid with gas. Here's the site report:

Fosco's interwebular researches have revealed that Burpengary is along the East Coast of Australia, within reasonable commuting distance of Brisbane (the third most populous city in Australia). According to the map, Burpengary is located between the towns of Caboolture and Deception Bay--neither of which will ever win any awards for name appeal (although you could probably set a daytime soap in "Deception Bay").

As far as I can tell, there is not much to be proud of in Burpengary (at least judging from its lack of interesting Google results). However, an image search turns up this pretty remarkable garden:

Fosco has no idea what kind of plants we can see in this picture, but he suspects that they eat koalas.

Also, apparently Burpengary is a bit of a destination for lovers of Christmas lights, including both an elaborate display ("Klingner's Khristmas Wonderland"--seriously--although why you need an "h" after the "k" in Khristmas is a mystery to me) and an entire street of lighted houses ("Blackbutt Court"--again, seriously). Judging from this photograph, however, Fosco is unimpressed:

Although, perhaps this is the height of Christmas Khristmas light ambition in a place where December 25 arrives in the middle of summer.

Unlike almost all of his peers, Fosco has never had a desire to visit Australia and, after writing this post, he wants to go even less. But hey, I still salute Burpengary, the inaugural town in "Where in the world..."

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V-Day Roundup

Fosco and Oz had some elaborate Valentine's plans, but got doubly ambushed by the icky "winter" storm plowing through the Bay Area and Fosco coming down with a head cold on Friday night. Fosco's cold is something of the CDC equivalent of a traditional locked room mystery, considering that Fosco literally had not left his apartment for seventy-two hours before he started getting sick on Friday evening. Very weird stuff.

However, we still celebrated a bit yesterday by exchanging gifts. More accurately, Oz lavished elaborate gifts on Fosco, while Fosco reciprocated with uninspired gifts that he felt too sick to wrap.

Oz always knows the perfect gift for Fosco: books, books, books.

I can't wait to read about this guy called "Barack Obama." I've heard he's a good author. I wonder if he's written anything else...

But Oz is much too creative to stop there. After opening the books (each of which was individually-wrapped, natch), Fosco was sent on a scavenger hunt to find the next gift that Oz had hidden (under the bed, it turned out) the night before.

When Fosco unwrapped the hidden gift he was puzzled. It was a thick hardcover trash novel by one of those "popular" authors who write using a text generator. Think Tom Clancy with less writing skill and no movie contracts. Now imagine a completely laughable cover and a snicker-worthy title. This is what went through Fosco's mind, in order:

1. Does Oz think that I would read this?
   
2. If he does think that, whither our relationship?
   
3. It must be a joke. But why?
   
4. [seeing the price tag] Oh God, did he really pay full price for this?
   

Oz's card offered only a little help: "read the Prologue for a hint as to your next gift." Fosco dutifully read the prologue (which was terrible--all about hunting for German U-boats), not quite knowing what he was looking for. (And let me tell you that Fosco was unrealistically hopeful for a second or two after reading the words "Lufthansa" and "BMW.")

Finally, after ten long pages, Fosco turned the page to discover the secret:

It's a hollow book! Oz made it himself with a book he found in his office's lost and found ( and yay, he didn't pay full price). Fosco has always wanted a hollow book, even though he doesn't really have anything he needs to keep inside one. Except his blow.

But wait, there's more! Inside the hollow was a ring box. And in the ring box was a nice solid tungsten carbide band with a celtic design. Fosco loves big, thick, chunky, nearly indestructible rings and this one is gorgeous. (Sadly, the ring has resisted our efforts to photograph it. We'll keep trying.) Need I add that it fits perfectly? Oz had done his homework.

Compared with this giftapalooza, Fosco doesn't really want to say what he got for Oz. Regular readers probably can guess (hint: it's eight inches tall and made from plastic... And no, it's not that. Don't be a filthy gorgon.)

I'll spend my Christmas with you

I know that Christmas is the last thing you want to be thinking of in the middle of February, but stay with me here. You may remember Fosco's hoot-out in favor of Owl City yesterday. Well, today he has one more titbit of Owlish pop goodness to offer you. This is Owl City's Christmas song (do yourself a favor and listen to it):



Fosco doesn't quite know what to make of the strange Jesus reference--is Adam Young a crypto-Christian? (The answer is yes, apparently. When did Christians start making listenable music?). Even so, Fosco is willing to overlook it (as he overlooks the Christianity of his beloved Sufjan). You may remember Fosco's pre-Christmas list of great Christmas songs--well, this one just went to the top of it.

Pictures of 2008: Holiday in South Bend

Fosco recently realized that, by only blogging for three months last year, he never got to share tons of pictures with you from the rest of the year. So, for the next week or so, Fosco will offer a series of brief posts with some of his favorite pictures from his adventures in 2008.

The first picture comes from Fosco's January 2008 in South Bend, Indiana (where grammar goes to die):

Hmmm. Let's hope they got this guy and not this guy.

Self-Indulgent Pet Story

Fosco already did his Christmas loot post, but he left an important question unanswered: what did Fosco and Oz's kitty Isis get for Kitty Christmas?

Which raises a second important question: when did Fosco become so dippy as to use the phrase "Kitty Christmas"? Readers: promise me that if Fosco ever posts a Christmas story about cats (especially if there is a disabled boy involved), you will stage an online intervention. Sigh.

Well, anyway... Isis got a new rubber brush, which she mostly doesn't like. (She prefers her hair to be tangled and skanky. Not unlike a certain British soul singer?)

She got a new IKEA Bästis toy to replace Condoleeza Mice. This is a fish named Tina Tuna. Even though Tina is filled with catnip (just like Condoleeza), Isis seems mostly uninterested. Which is kinda disappointing, because I wanted to see Isis go all Ike Tuna on that thing.

Isis's big gift, however, wasn't even intended for her. You may remember Oz's new Poäng chair from IKEA. Well, it turns out that Isis has claimed it for herself.

Oz has tried to keep her off the chair by covering it with his jacket (seriously?) and then by placing a plastic bag (Isis's nemesis) on the seat. You can see how that worked:

Isis only deigns to open one eye to survey Fosco's camera idiocy...

Seriously, Isis loves this chair so much she doesn't even sleep on the bed anymore. Once or twice a night, she hops from the chair to the bed to get some quick petting from Fosco and then heads back to the chair--like getting petted is a job or something that she has to commute to... We're thinking of trading her in for an Ultimate Wall-E.

The Last Night of 2008

As predicted, Fosco and Oz did nothing particularly sexy or exciting for New Year's Eve. Well, unless you count a quick trip to Target (neither do we).

But seriously, while our plans were low-key, it was actually just right. We started the evening with dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants (we eat there a couple of times a month), Barracuda. Although the original location is in The Castro, Fosco and Oz much prefer the less-hip, less-crowded branch at California's Most Filipino Mall in Daly City (it's also like 5 minutes from Oz's apartment).

Barracuda is a sushi restaurant, but it's more like Sushi 2.0 than regular sushi. Sushi 2.0, in Fosco's reckoning, is sushi that uses the standard roll (Maki-zushi) as a starting point (or blank canvas) for the addition of different (not always Japanese) ingredients, sauces, cooking techniques, etc. So when you see traditional rolls buried under slices of avocado, or covered with sauce, or battered and fried, that's Sushi 2.0.

Because it was NYE, Fosco and Oz decided to eat a little more than usual. We ordered the "Lollipop Scallops" as an appetizer. Those are fried scallops on sticks, resting on a bed of mashed potatoes. That orange sauce is tobiko mayo.

We'd never tried these before, but it was NYE! Fosco liked them better than did Oz, but Fosco is much more of a scallop fan.

We opted for four different rolls. Here are two of them. On the right is a standard spicy hamachi roll. Mmmm. On the left is something called the "Geisha Roll" (as if you couldn't tell that by the parasol). I don't really remember what is in it (spicy tuna? unagi? something green?), but it has white tuna and roe on the top. Also, there is some kind of vinegar sauce.

And yes, Fosco is wearing that shirt you see in the background. What can I say? It was New Year's Eve.

Fosco enjoys even more these two rolls. On the left, we have a shrimp tempura roll topped with avocado and tuna. On the right, we have Fosco's favorite "Volcano Roll": a spicy tuna roll batter-dipped and fried, then topped with tobiko mayo and mango-jalapeno salsa. Yum!

This was an excellent mini-celebration for NYE, even though (as always), we were hungry again two hours later.

When we got back to Oz's pad, we had several hours until midnight. We killed that but good with Mario Kart (yes, there is also a Wii at Oz's place) and Rock Band! In Rock Band, Fosco and Oz finally managed to conquer "Enter Sandman" (and by "conquer," I mean "scrape through by the skin of our teeth"). We also spent some time doing tatts on our avatars. Our band name is "Fosco Lives" (sigh--unoriginal, I know). Oz plays guitar and his avatar has the word "FOSCO" tattooed on the underside of his right forearm and the word "LIVES" in the same place on his left forearm. Oh, and each word is centered along the blade of a sword tattoo! It rox! Fosco's drummer avatar (named "Dark Oates," because he's kind of a goth drummer) now has a bloody handprint tattooed on left pectoral. It is hella sexy, let me tell you.

At midnight, we broke out the bubbly (although sadly, we had to drink it in double old-fashioned glasses).

There is nothing like drinking a bottle of good champagne at midnight to make the New Year seem bright and promising. And there's nothing like a January 1 morning headache to remind you that you're too old to be drinking that much.

So happy New Year once again, my dear friends and faithful readers. I hope your NYE was just as much fun (or more!) than ours.

Happy 2009!

It's finally here.

All of us here at Fosco Lives! wish you a healthy and happy 2009. May this be a better year for all of us.

The Year in Arts and Letters: Some Half-Baked Recommendations

The New Year, the New Year. Everywhere the New Year! The Old Year was already looked upon as dead; and its effects were selling cheap like some drowned mariner's aboardship. Its patterns were Last Year's and going at a sacrifice, before its breath was gone. Its treasures were mere dirt, beside the riches of its unborn successor!
Charles Dickens, "The Chimes"

It's the end of 2008 and Fosco has that same urge as every other blogger to write an end-of-the-year list. While Fosco admires the ambition of a project like The Golden Teddies, he just doesn't have the energy to pull it off. Also, as Fosco has admitted several times recently, he just isn't in close enough touch with culture (popular or otherwise) to feel comfortable choosing a whole bunch of definitive bests and worsts. So, instead of a set of lists or rankings, Fosco is just going to do a half-baked post on some things that he liked this year. Obviously, Fosco probably forgot some things; he also probably made some bad choices. But, to quote Don Rumsfeld: "Stuff happens." So let's get to it.

• Fosco read a ton of books this year--after all, that's kind of his job. However, most of those books were school-related and so he consequently doesn't feel like recommending them here at Fosco Lives! (I mean really, who wants to know how I feel about La Déclosion?) However, Fosco did engage in a few "pleasure-reading" projects this year.
  
  Early in the summer, Fosco read through a giant pile of 9/11 novels (with an eye to possibly teaching a seminar on that topic at some point in the future). Sadly, the big conclusion here is that most 9/11 novels are pretty bad--even those that are supposedly good. In the category of 9/11 novels was one of the best-reviewed books of the year, Joseph O'Neill's Netherland. Fosco did not love this book.
  
  Now that it's the end of the year, Fosco is doing his annual pleasure-reading marathon. So far, he's read two clearly great books: Roberto Bolaño's 2666 and Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.
  
  Fosco is only too happy to name 2666 as the best book he read this year, but this is really no surprise. After all, pretty much every media outlet named this book the best of 2008. Not to mention that it's the book that everyone is currently reading, from Ted Gideonse to Christopher Hayes to the Guanabee Book Club. Pretty much the only place that didn't love this novel was The New Yorker, but even so, they've started publishing Bolaño short stories. Fosco has never seen this kind of cultural excitement about a novel this long (or, at least, one that doesn't star pubescent wizards) and it's really kinda neat.
  
  
• When it came to summarizing the year in pop music, Fosco tried for methodological rigor: he ranked his iTunes library by "Play Count" and looked for the 2008 releases in the resulting list. Sadly, what Fosco learned is that his 2008 year in music consisted mainly of songs released in 2006 and 2007. Oh well.
  
  Of songs released in 2008, it turns out that Fosco listened to these five songs the most:
  
  1. Bob Mould, "The Silence Between Us"
     
  2. High School Musical 3 Cast, "Right Here, Right Now"
     
  3. Mike Doughty, "Fort Hood"
     
  4. MGMT, "Kids"
     
  5. Taylor Swift, "Fifteen"
  Fosco is only too happy to recommend any of these singles and is even willing to take responsibility for recommending a country song! (Taylor Swift is just that good.)
  
  In terms of pop albums, Fosco would like to recommend three: Portishead, Third; Mates of State, Re-Arrange Us; and, wait for it... Kanye West, 808s and Heartbreak. Yes, that's right: Kanye West--a guy that Fosco had never even heard of six months ago and still probably couldn't pick out of a crowded room. Fosco listened to this CD by complete accident, but he just can't stop listening--it's really good. Of course, you have to like electronica. And you have to be able to tolerate the frequent and intentional use of Auto-Tune. But if you can handle that, these songs are incredibly catchy and enjoyable. Seriously. Now Fosco isn't the only one who enjoys this CD. Oz hates Kanye and was so skeptical of this disc, but then he had to admit sheepishly that it's really good. You have to trust me on this.
  
  
• Thanks to the influence of Oz, Fosco saw more movies this year than he has in a long time. What was good? Well, he really liked Wall-E--especially the Hello Dolly! parts. Really, it was about time someone recognized how good some of the "lesser" songs from that musical are.
  
  
• Fosco's favorite CD of the year was classical and so he's putting it in a category by itself. In 2007, Fosco was lucky enough to see the US premiere in San Francisco of the new John Adams opera A Flowering Tree. This fall, the two-disc recording of the opera was released. While Fosco will probably always love the sheer bombastic spledor of Doctor Atomic, A Flowering Tree is a much more beautiful work. It is delicate and assured and the story-telling is stream-lined and emotionally appealing. It contains some of Adams's most gorgeous vocal writing and one of his most transformative orchestral passages (the long final crescendo almost causes Fosco to stand up every time he hears it). If you have the opportunity to see this opera, I cannot recommend it highly enough. And if you can dedicate an hour and half to active listening, this recording should enthrall you.
  
  
• How about something like "Blog of the Year"? While not everyone was as completely obsessed with the presidential election as Fosco was, I think you still have to recognize the extraordinary importance of Nate Silver's FiveThirtyEight.com. In retrospect, it's a brilliant idea: take the well-developed statistical tools that have been used to analyze baseball and use them to analyze politics. Silver's models turned out to be almost perfect in predicting everything from Senate races to the final Electoral College vote tally. In the world of political opinion, it turns out that there is nothing more comforting than strong statistical reasoning. The pre-election anxiety would have been completely unendurable without the existence of this blog/website.
  

So that's that. Here's to a 2009 filled with great books, great music, and great friends.

What are you doing New Year's, New Year's Eve?

The Year was Old that day. That patient Year had lived through the reproaches and misuses of its slanderers, and faithfully performed its work. Spring, summer, autumn, winter. It had laboured through the destined round, and now laid down its weary head to die. Shut out from hope, high impulse, active happiness, itself, but messenger of many joys to others, it made appeal in its decline to have its toiling days and patient hours remembered, and to die in peace.
Charles Dickens, "The Chimes"

The recent reader of Fosco Lives! can be forgiven for thinking that Fosco is leading a jetset life (and we all know that kind of life is gonna kill you). However, the answer to Ella's question that titles this post is unfortunately not that exciting.

For Fosco at his current age, New Year's Eve is a lot like Halloween: it seems like it ought to be a lot of fun, but no exciting plans ever materialize. Just as Fosco never gets invited to crazy Halloween costume parties, he also never gets invited to any jazz and champagne galas in luxury penthouse suites. In fact, most of Fosco's recent NYE's have been disappointing or completely pathetic. Even when Fosco seems to be enjoying a First Night, bad things end up happening.

Case in point: last year when Fosco was visiting Snow Town, he went to a lovely party at the lair of the BeeMaster and BeeMistress. There was much jollity and not a small amount of Rock Band. How could that go wrong? Well, it turns out that several of Fosco's (now former) friends decided to make a complete fool out of him in front of most of the rest of the partygoers (which Fosco did not realize until he was told several days later). Fosco doesn't forgive that kind of thing (file under: people I no longer talk to), which means he's glad to be staying in the Bay Area this New Year's Eve. However, there is still the problem of plans for the last night of 2008.

At this point, it looks like Fosco and Oz will be spending the evening... playing Rock Band 2. For one thing, there is the vexed matter of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" to deal with (N.B., it is impossible to play). Plus, both Fosco and Oz have purchased some rockin' clothes for their avatars that have not yet been worn. So there will probably be some costume changes and definitely some hair-dyeing. And, come to think of it, there is a Jimmy Eat World song that we still haven't played. And we'll probably pet our kitty, Isis, some of the time. Maybe we'll get takeout from Chipotle.

This all will be fun, of course. And Fosco is very excited to spend his first NYE with Oz. But at the same time, there is part of Fosco that would like to do something unusual to celebrate the beginning of 2009. Like go for a zeppelin ride! Or dance naked at a bowling alley! Or smoke meth and go swimming in SF Bay!

And in this corner...

Even though it's almost over, you should spare a moment to think about Boxing Day. The definitive explanation of its name and its purpose can be found in this New York Times editorial. The author, Judith Flanders, argues that Americans could use a little bit of Boxing Day, provided that we stick with its original charitable purpose:

It would be good if Boxing Day were added to America’s list of legal holidays. (From over here, you look awfully light on time off anyway.) But not if it just became another day in the round of shop-eat-family-family-family.

Instead Boxing Day could return as a day of giving. Not necessarily cash — and not material to make uniforms — but rather one day a year to donate skills or effort, a day for sharing something of value in the larger community. Help someone whose first language isn’t English fill out driver’s license forms. Load an old lady’s iPod with Rogers and Hammerstein. Teach the boy next door to throw overhand, so the other kids stop teasing him.

What we really need to do is put down the punch bowl and pick up on what Punch magazine wrote more than 150 years ago: Don’t just keep “the Christmas of the belly: keep you the Christmas of the heart. Give — give.”

Fosco is onboard, except for that weird part about "teach the boy next door to throw overhand." That's pretty much like saying: "use your time to make the neighbor kid heterosexual." But, I suppose we don't have to take Flanders's advice. And, if your charitable contribution happens to involve a little foxy boxing, I think you should get double points in heaven.

Wow, Loot!

Despite the lack of fatal viruses, Christmas in Santa Cruz was wonderful, especially as it was Fosco and Oz's first Christmas spent together (last year, Fosco was in Snow Town). So what did Satan Sapna Santa bring us? I mean, besides joy and peace...

Remember how Oz has a bit of a collection going? Well, Fosco spent some quality time on eBay and came up with these beauties.

Yes, that Iron Man Mugg is a limited edition that was sold only at the San Diego Comic Con. And indeed, it does appear that Admiral Ackbar is saying "It's a trap!" (N.B., Admiral Ackbar knows when something is a trap.)

Fosco got a Mighty Mugg too! Remember Marvel's Vision? No? Well, that's why Fosco didn't have any friends in junior high. Well, at any rate, Vision was an android and a member of the Avengers (still not sounding familiar? Really?). Anyhoo, Fosco likes Vision and thinks he looks cool:


Look what Oz got for Fosco! Fosco loves this game, but had been holding off on owning it to prevent it from totally preempting his work. Is this the end of Fosco's academic career? Or does another, more lucrative, career beckon (viz. Rock God)?


Oz got a big present, too: does he know what it is?

Why, it's the IKEA Poäng Chair!

[See Isis skulking around behind it? She likes it for hiding.]

Fosco and Oz hope that, recession be damned, all of your material wishes came true this holiday season.

Christmas at Todd's

Too bad I missed Christmas at Todd's in South Bend:


Simply having a hemorrhagic Christmas time...

Christmas in Santa Cruz: A Postcard

Alas, Santa Cruz has neither the cold of South Bend nor the charm of Paris. But today, on Christmas, we did have a (double) rainbow.


Peace on earth. Good will to all.