Alright, alright. I’ll write some things about myself. But only positive things; it’s impossible to portray the negative accurately. All claims subject to reinvention.
I love to travel. I’m good with foreign cultures. If a space ship finally comes to get us, you’ll want to ride with me. My interpretation of body language is superior; even when there’s no body.
My job title has the word “scientist†in it. I knew at a very early age that I’d become a scientist. I didn’t know that it meant mostly going to meetings.
If I don't become a buddha after this life (I feel the chances are pretty remote), I hope to be reborn as the engineer who figures out how to make "beam me up" an affordable and safe reality. Alternately, I wouldn't mind coming back as the world's greatest go-go dancer.
I’ve been a peacenik for as long as I’ve been a scientist. Yes, I'd be willing to give my life if it meant that humanity could move closer to an ideal of non-violence. As you might imagine, the current administration disgusts and appalls me. Please vote responsibly.
Did you know that fewer than 4% of the world's population has red hair? Yet this is, apparently, the most popular color of hair dye for women. Well..., I'm just sayin'.... I feel kinda lucky. Even if I've had to make a much bigger investment in sunscreen than most people.
As I stand over my Rowena, trying to make sense of an obscenely wrinkled pair of linen trousers, the true meaning of the word "irony" strikes me.
I’m better at growing plants than I thought I would be. Some of them actually thrive on negligence. Haven't completely worked out how to "handle" cactus , though.
There's a downside to having a green thumb and that's the actual work of gardening. Since when is "prune" a verb?
Recently, I discovered that the American Atheists have an official logo. It’s called the Atomic Whirl. Sounds like a Jell-O dessert, doesn’t it? Look it up if you think I’m kidding.
Hate is wrong. I know that and feel pretty bad that I hate Dick Cheney. I have also come to hate the insipulous acronyms that people throw into messages, like "LOL." It's not as if people can't spell those words out. I think they think it's cool. Well, maybe it was cool in third grade; kinda like when I was a kid and used to make up words.
I believe in white space. Even when it's gray.
We had the best backyard in the neighborhood, growing up. Among our various apparati was a four-seat merry-go-round that was propelled by pushing a bar in the front of each station. Kind of a cross between one of those railroad handcars and the tea cups ride at Disneyland. My brother, Richard, and I managed to get at least one kid dizzy to the point of illness each week until our mom established a rule whereby you couldn’t ride within an hour of having eaten.
I am not arm candy. I am brain candy. I'm working toward becoming soul candy. When I get old enough, my hair will look like cotton candy.
In my perfect world, no one would buy any piece of art made by Thomas Kincade.
I’m content not to be an expert. I see this as a philosophical argument – one that I’ve had with myself for as long as outside forces have demanded to know what I wanted to do when I grow up. In my mind, expertise sacrifices broader experience. Unless you are Galileo or someone like that. Being a dabbler has a multitude of advantages, not the least of which is the inherent excuse for procrastination: I am sorry that I didn’t file my tax return on time; I was in Australia looking for hedgehogs.
Who would I most like to meet? The Fourteenth Dalai Lama. Long may he live.
I grew up in Southern California. For any of you who didn't and feel that most of the natives fall into some kind of stereotype ... well, you'd be in for a big surprise upon meeting me.
I really don't have the penchant for symmetry that this webpage would suggest. I promise.
Some days, the view from my office is spectacular:
Stuff in the garden:
Speaking of stuff, here's a short movie about it:
om mani padme hum