Daughter: “C’mon, Dad. You know you think this is charming.”

Dad: “No. You think I think this is charming.”

Daughter: “But isn’t that charming?”

At least she appreciates her own solipsistic world view.

As she was furiously trying to recall the answers to questions that would have been easy without the time pressure, I flashed back to the mid-70s when I competed on a Philadelphia-local public TV kids’ quiz show called, IIRC, Challenge. (I can’t find reference to it with a Google search, but I suspect it disappeared long before the Web.) The setup was a lot like Jeopardy, with 3 contestants and a moderator asking questions, bonus rounds and a final, high-stakes question. The prizes were small, but made quite an impression.

I won the first episode I played, and the winner’s prize was a $25 bank account. Not a check for $25, but an honest-to-goodness passbook savings account, my first. In this day of online banking, it’s hard to remember those old passbooks, but they were kind of awesome. Mine felt like a US passport. The cover was stiff, with a very light faux-leather grain, and the pages were very heavy stock so the transaction printing machine wouldn’t shred it with every use. I loved looking at the list of deposits, mostly from birthday and holiday gifts at that age. Much more wonderful than an ATM receipt.

On the second day I lost, but the consolation prize was nearly as cool as a bank account. It was a Polaroid zip camera (possibly an electric one, but probably the much cheaper manual version).

My consolation prize looked like this, only red.

It was a very cheap camera (the manual version had the lowest MSRP of any Polaroid camera ever produced), but I did have a lot of fun with it–when I could afford to buy the super-expensive (for me) film packs. I can still smell the gooey photochemicals squeezed onto the prints by the camera’s rollers. Not Proust’s madeleines, but still. The best part was peeling back the cover sheet after a couple of minutes to see just how bad the picture was (I was, and remain, a mediocre photographer).

I kind of miss that old camera.

So I propose the following:

Give all citizens a “grub stake” at birth. They can use it for their basic expenses, including education, until such time as they can work for their own living. Everyone would then truly have equal opportunity. Some would fail, of course. But that would be their own responsibility. Many more would succeed in growing new businesses, producing goods and services that others really want. Overall, according to the economic theories of the Chicago and Austrian Schools, the economy would grow stronger, a rising tide lifting all boats, as it were.

Of course, since everyone is responsible for their own success, inheriting wealth must necessarily be forbidden. As I said, equality of opportunity must be real. We must not have a government enforcing equality of outcome; outcome is predicated only on the result of one’s own ingenuity and labor. Being born wealthy is a matter of luck, which defeats the whole point of a true meritocracy.

Therefore, I propose funding the grub stakes with a 100% estate tax.

That seems fair, doesn’t it?

After two games, we were hungry. Frankly, we were past hungry and working on cranky. A month or two ago, in a similar state of near-arm-chewing, we tried to go to Jack-n-Grill Restaurant, but the wait was close to an hour, so we bailed and vowed we’d try again one day. So today was the day. We’re late to the party on this place. It’s been around for a good while, and has been featured on the tee-vee. Multiple times. But I’m going to tell you about it anyway.

The food is, loosely speaking, New Mexican. Lots of red and green chile. Sopapillas. Burritos. Enchiladas. The usual stuff of the state just to the south of the Square State. Also, they have burgers. Gazillions of them.

And the other thing about the food is, well, the portions are bleeping enormous. We’re not talking Cheesecake Factory here; we’re talking the scene in Spirited Away where the parents eat so much of the spirit food that they turn into pigs. Go there hungry, then share. Unless you are young and stupid and try to eat one of their 7 pound (that’s 3 kilos for everyone else in the known universe) burritos by yourself, you probably don’t even need a regular size entree per person. By the way, if you do manage that stunt-eating feat, they will put your picture on the wall, presumably as an object lesson in idiocy. But I digress.

Today, we waited about 20 minutes for a table, and spent the wait time looking over the menu so we were ready to order when we sat down. I told you: we were hungry.

Ordering went fine. The server came promptly (and called us “Sweetie” a lot–not sure if that’s the custom of the house or just a verbal tic of hers, but no biggie). For starters, we asked for a small order of “corn in a cup”, a side of fried (not breaded, though) jalapenos, and a basket of sopapillas. For mains, Daniel ordered the kid-sized burger and Eliana, Bonnie and I ordered two entrees to share: the cheese enchilada plate and the taco salad with calabacitas (both vegetarian, since E is a vegetarian and I keep kosher enough not to eat meat out). I should say that D ordered the kid burger because the regular burgers are 10 oz (about 280g) pre-cooked, and he is still a pre-teen and thus still has a teeny amount of sense about how much food it takes to fill him up. In a couple of years, I expect that sense to disappear for a while, at which time our grocery bills will double.

The service broke down a bit after ordering. The drinks took a little while, and there was one mistake, promptly corrected. The starters we ordered never came, and they suddenly brought out our entrees but got Daniel’s wrong (beef tacos instead of a burger). We asked for the sides/starters, which they brought eventually, along with the burger. Well, all except for the basket of sopapillas. The kitchen was apparently not functioning too well, but the server was also not keeping track very well. Everybody was friendly, though, and we enjoyed what we got so much that we weren’t horribly put off.

So let me break down the eats a bit:

“Corn in a cup” is whole kernel corn with butter, lime, parmesan cheese, and chile powder. We got a small, and that was plenty.

The fried jalapenos, which were all for me, are pretty much just whole peppers, fried until they’re hot and the skin loosens up a bit, but still pretty firm. Very simple, with nice chile flavor. The plate is supposed to have 2, but they gave me 3–probably because of the screwups.

The enchilada plate has five (yes, five) of the lovely little rolled up tortillas, plus beans, rice, and potatoes. Plus the usual garnishes. Huge plate. I mean massive. Enough for two people. We had it with red chile, since the green has pork, and it was satisfyingly spicy.

The calabacitas taco salad was also big (no surprise there), but quite a lot of the bulk was lettuce. Not complaining, mind you, since the greens provided some cooling from all the chiles. Calabacitas is a vegetable stew, primarily based on zucchini. The squash was nicely firm, and the heat level was reasonably high for the dish, compared to what I have had other places. This dish is served in one of those fried tortilla bowls, but, honestly, we had so much other stuff to eat, none of us touched the bowl.

The kid burger (with fries, naturally) was still pretty large (do you sense a theme going on here) was tasty, in Daniel’s humble estimation.

I am happy to report that we did not come close to making clean plates. If we had, we would have needed to go on a three-week fast, I’m pretty sure. But also, we would not have had room for dessert (I know, I know). Since we never got our appetizer sopas, we decided to try the sopa bites for a little something sweet at the end. These were a marvel. Little squares of puffy fried tortilla, with a light sprinkling of raspberry sauce and a big pile of whipped cream. Did I mention that the portion was enormous. What a surprise. For five bucks, there was plenty there for all four of us. We finished it, but none of us felt cheated.

Final tab? About 50 bucks including the tip. For all that food, two sodas and a coffee. Pretty reasonable.

Despite the screwups with the order, the food was plenty good enough for us to want to go back. But we might order a little bit less next time.

About two and half years ago, I wrote a little about having retinitis pigmentosa and what it’s like to be blind, but not completely blind. RP is degenerative, so things have not gotten better. And they haven’t stayed the same, either. From one day to the next, my vision seems about the same, but it’s pretty clear that, in the past couple of years, and perhaps even more dramatically in the past year, things are worse.

On the plus side, I can still get around on my own via foot or public transit, as long as I’m reasonably familiar with the surroundings. I can do my work without needing special accesibility tools (a big mouse pointer and light on dark text are sufficient for most things). I’ve accomodated pretty well to wearing bifocals (in fairness, that’s probably more a function of age than the RP). And I am not, you know, dying or anything dire. OK, that last was too much. Really, my life is pretty good. I have a loving family, a job, good friends, and I want for nothing.

But, still…

Edges, edges everywhere, and, with luck, not a drop off into the drink.

My useful visual field is very narrow. Don’t know how narrow, as I haven’t bothered to have it measured recently, but suffice it to say that narrow describes it pretty well. When your useful visual field is effectively a small disk, it helps immensely to be able to follow edges.

Sidewalks on a normal, rectilinear street grid have these marvelous edges known as curbs. I love them. I just keep my eye on the edge, and I can navigate a fairly straight path down the sidewalk. Of course, I do risk crashing into the odd pole or fire hydrant or pedestrian while concentrating on that edge, but that’s why I carry the white cane.

Edges are everywhere for me, and quite essential. The edge where the molding meets the floor helps me avoid the walls (but not necessarily the wall hangings projecting out from it). The edges of windows on my computer screen help me to navigate my self around to the part of the display I need. The edges of the counter and the kitchen table…well, their utility should be obvious by now.

But, as essential as they are, all these useful edges are a challenge. After all, as I said, following them too closely leads me to miss other, rather important things, some more hazardous than others. I misjudged a step the other day, one foot went down about six inches off the (non-street) sidewalk, and I caught myself, badly, on a rustic fence that gave me a couple of good bruises. That was an accident.

But sometimes I dread deliberately stepping off those edges. Who knows if there’s a drop much longer than I can perceive. Who knows if there’s a car coming down the street as I step off that curb (I do look–and listen–for this, but there’s still a little clench just at the moment).

I need to think more about edges. Seems like there’s a metaphor here for something else, but I’m perceiving them quite literally at the moment.

Enough with the meta navel gazing. Onward.

Pre-ordered (and paid for) the object of my gadget lust at the AT&T store in Boulder. They say 10-20 days for delivery. I could have tried Monday morning at the Apple Store, but, since we’re switching to a new family cell phone plan, it seemed like slightly less hassle to do everything in one place.

I know, I know. “Boys and their toys.” I have a 21 year old television, not a single console game, and this will be my first cell phone that is more than a device for making phone calls.

Also, my visual impairment means I can’t have a sports car for a mid-life crisis. This is cheap compared to one of those. Right?

Update (22 July 2008): It’s already here! Only 3 days! Not bad. AT&T has earned a small measure of goodwill, which they will no doubt sacrifice at some point in the not too distant future, if reports are to be believed. Won’t be able to pick it up until tomorrow, unfortunately. But, well, yippee!!

Dear Friend, [How sweet of you to refer to me thus, but I don't believe we've met.]

I don’t want to beleve you’ve abandoned the Republican Party, but I have to ask…Have you given up? [Abandonment implies a prior relationship. I gave up on the Republicans when they aligned themselves with theocrats. Around the time of Ronald Reagan.]

Our records show we have not yet received you Republican National Committee membership renewal for the critical 2008 presidential election year. [Don't hold your breath.]

As the Treasurer of the RNC, I know our Party’s success depends directly on grassroots leaders like you. [You'd really better hope not, or you're screwed.]

So I am surprised and concerned especially because I know how generously you supported President Bush and the RNC in the past. You helped to advance our vision for America and elect Republicans at all levels of government. [I have never, in 25 years of voting, supported a Republican for any office. Then again, I have lived in states with some of the most extreme and vile of the Party's wing nuts (the "mainstream" of today's party, sadly). Had I lived in the right place, I could have voted for a reasonable GOP candidate. Let's see... Jim Jeffords (you drove him out), Christine Todd Whitman (left the Bush EPA in frustration), Lincoln Chafee (defeated because of the executive and legislative incompetence of his fellow Republicans), or one of the Senators from Maine (bless their hearts, still trying to fix the Party from within--best of luck to them, but I think it's a losing battle).]

I know other things come up, and perhaps you’ve just been delayed in renewing your membership. If that’s the case, I understand. [At the rate you're going, the delay will last just a wee bit longer. Check back for the 2020 election season, and I'll think about it again.]

But we’ve not heard from you this year–and I hope you haven’t deserted our Party. [Again, you use a word that implies a prior relationship. Facts are your friends. Oh, wait, you're a Republican. Facts are the enemy. Bummer for you.]

Your generous financial assistance and active involvement are more important than ever as we work to elect a new Republican president and Congress. [Again, if you're depending on *my* support, you're screwed.]

There is so much at stake. The Democrats are determined to put a liberal like Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama in the White House, expand their narrow majorities in the U.S. House and Senate, and push our countyr to the Left with their agenda of high taxes, big government and wekeed national security. [May it come to pass speedily, in our day. Truly, the Democrats are suffering from an embarrassment of riches with our candidates this year. Even the ones who dropped out were far superior to any of your lot. Mike Gravel would be a far better president than GWB (who admittedly has set the bar pretty low).]

Big Labor, radical liberal protest groups and Hollywood elites are planning to spend more than $50 million to defeat Republicans and aid the Democrat power grab. [Which would be so much worse than Big Oil, radical fundamentalist protest groups (Fred Phelps, anyone), and Mel Gibson, right?]

The RNC relies on the voluntary support of Republican activists like you. [You really are screwed then.]

That’s why I urgently need you to renew your RNC membership for 2008 with a contribution of $25, $50 or even $100. [Thanks for reminding me to send in my pledge to the DNC.]

The men and women who will represent us in this year’s elections are hard at work building strong campaigns. [Hope they're keeping their resumes polished for afterwards.]

And so is the RNC. We are doing our part to provide the research, staff support, voter registration, volunteer recruitment and training, and direct financial assistance our candidates need to win. [You might try letting them run as Independents this year. They might have better luck.]

The RNC is also the ONLY Republican organization permitted by federal law to directly support our presidential nominee. [But you do have the Swift Boaters for a really nasty backup plan.]

If we fail to hold the White House and make gains in Congress, the Democrats have made clear they will overturn every reform you helped President Bush achieve. [Which reforms? Making torture legal? Holding citizens without charges for years? Spying on the people? Subverting the power of the Legislature (which you controlled for most of his term, BTW) through signing statements? Cutting taxes on the rich, while cutting services to the poor? Hampering scientific research in the name of sectarian religious ideals? I'm wracking my brains trying to think of something I want to keep.]

Democrat presidential candidates and the Reid/Pelosi-run-Congress have promised to repeal the Bush tax cuts, retreat from the War on Terror and increase the size of government through their one-size-fits-all health care plan. [God forbid that everyone should have health insurance, thus spreading the risk. Remember, the mainstream Democratic candidates aren't advocating single-payer or socialized medicine. They just want everyone to be covered. By private insurers. Not ideal, but better than the uninsured going bankrupt and having the taxpayers cover all their medical bills (because that reduces the size of government, uh-huh).]

We cannot allow them to succeed! That’s why your renewed commitment is so important. [I agree with you, if you replace "succeed" with "fail", and add "to the Democrats" after the word committment.]

So if you have delayed in renewing your membership because you feel the RNC has let you down, or no longer needs you, please let me know. I want to hear from you. [Will this post do?]

Just include your comments and suggestions with the enclosed Membership Confirmation and return them with your 2008 membership renewal check. You can also renew by calling [Number deleted] or via our secure website at [Link deleted].

[I think I'll just post some snarky comments on the Internet.]

But please don’t turn your back on our Republican candidates running for office from the Courthouse to the White House: They are counting on your support. Renew your RNC membership today. Thank you. [When the Republicans can return to some sensible middle ground on issues, I will turn around partway to face them without a look of disdain on my face. Until then, enjoy the view of my shoulder blades.]

Sincerely,
Tim Morgan
RNC Treasurer