It will come as no surprise to anybody that I’m not particularly found of Microsoft. Their products too often seem feature-rich rather than actually powerful, shiny rather than stable (and are frequently neither). But I have watched Bill Gates with growing respect for a number of years. Today he secured his position in my eyes as Microsoft announced that he’ll be stepping down from his position there in two years to devote his time to the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, a non-profit he and his wife established several years ago from their own personal fortune and which has been doing some tremendous work in global health and education. I think it’s spectacular that Gates would be willing to leave behind a doubtless exciting and fulfilling job at the company he founded to pursue something that is principally of benefit to others. Bravo, Mister Gates.

Contrast this with Steve Jobs, who is at the helm of both Apple and Pixar. Apple has their share of issues with product, but overall seem to put together much better thought-out, more polished hardware and software. Pixar has consistently produced some of the best films, animated or not, of the last decade, all of which have been quite financially successful. But Jobs personally does far less to support charitable causes, in spite of having similar stratospheric wealth to Gates.

Will this make me follow Microsoft down their computing path? There’s little chance of that. But I’ll certainly be keeping a close eye on the company’s founder and what he’s choosing to do with the money that company has produced.

One of the great pleasures of summer for me is getting to spend more time with the kids, whose time is consumed overmuch by school during the academic year. (Teachers, take note! Research has shown that lots of homework doesn’t significantly improve academic performance! Ease up, for heaven’s sake!) One of my favorite things to do with the young ones is to take them out individually for a one-on-one day of fun and frolic.

We had a super time yesterday on Liam’s outing. We started off at Kidzville playing basketball, air hockey, climbing on playgrounds, and playing more air hockey. From there, we went to grab some lunch at Alamo Cafe (my choice), where Liam was quite taken with the streams running through the interior and the painted sky that cycled through day and night cycles with sunsets every 10 minutes. We then stopped by Mom McMains’ office and visited with her for a while. Our old neighbor Mary Beth McAllister happened to be passing through as well — a wonderful surprise, since it has been quite a long time since we’ve gotten to catch up with her.

It was by that point the hottest part of a hundred degree day, so naturelly we decided with the all the wisdom of males on holiday that we should go play outdoor miniature golf, where Liam gave me a sound walloping. We started back north, stopping at Rolling Oaks Mall for rehydration and a visit to Earthbound Trading Company before landing at Chuck E. Cheese (Liam’s choice) for a bit of pizza and some games.

We rounded out our adventures with a hurried trip to Bahama Bucks to get a cup of their estimable shaved ice, which we then smuggled in under my hat (not while I was wearing it, fortunately) to a showing of Hoot.

We had a great time. I’m very much looking forward to taking the rest of the kids out for their adventures over the weeks to come!

Our own sweet Abigail gets 15 seconds of fame on the latest batch of voice mails from The Radio Adventures of Dr. Floyd. (Yes, I realize Warhol said 15 minutes, but Abby’s carefully shepherding her time — it would be a shame to blow all 15 minutes when you’re only nine years old.)

If you haven’t been listening to Dr. Floyd, you owe it to yourself to do so. Ostensibly a kids’ program, it manages the neat trick of including some great humor for the adults without descending to Shrek-style burping jokes. It’s good, clean fun for the whole family! (Yes, I’m shilling. Deal with it!)

I’ve been back home for a week now, and have very much enjoyed being in the company of my beloved family again — not only because they’re wonderful people, but because they always inject a note of the unexpected into my life. This week’s notable incidents revolve around a hermit crab. Kathy brought it home from Schlitterbahn the other day, having given in to Maggie’s incessant pleadings. Notable hermit crab moments:

• Maggie burst in the door, clear crab box in hand, announcing excitedly “I got a crab! His name is Fluffy!” Best. Name. Ever.
• While watching a movie later on that night, Maggie put the crab on the coffee table. She then insisted that I move my feet “so Fluffy can see the movie.”
• We had to get distilled water to put on a sponge and give to the crab. Now, correct me if I’m wrong here, but a special trip to the grocery store for distilled water to feed an animal that normally lives in the offal-filled, medical-waste strewn ocean and feeds on rotting fish carcasses seems a bit ridiculous, don’t you think? If it can weather the beaches of New Jersey, a crab can certainly handle a bit of tap water.
• Last night, I was lying in bed after Kathy went to sleep, and heard a scrabbling sound. We have been having some trouble with mice, so I mentioned to Kathy when she stirred “I think your little rodent friend is back.” She immediately demurred, saying “No, it’s just the lobster on your desk.” WHAT? It turns out Maggie had left the crab on my desk in our bedroom, and in Kathy’s somnolent state, her brain mixed up crustaceans. (Maggie likes to visit the lobsters at the supermarket too.)

Thursday morning, I set off for Victoria, British Columbia, where my dear friends Daniel and Fanny live. When I found out that this year’s Sakai conference was to be in Vancouver, I figured it would be criminal not to take a few extra days, hop a ferry, and spend some time with those worthies — a plan aided by my dear wife who offered to care for the offspring in my absence. So, I braved the slings and arrows of American Airlines to get from Dallas to Vancouver. Both the flight from Austin to Dallas and that to Vancouver were running late, and in spite of the fact that we travelled across much of a continent, the only refreshment the airline provided was a single ginger ale. But all that was forgotten once I got into the Vancouver airport, only to step off of the plane and see that unique bastion of Canadian culture…

…Starbucks. Alas, my first impression wasn’t quite what I’d hoped. But the country quickly rallied and presented a series of delightful sights and smells: rhododendrons everywhere were in extravagant bloom, the air was rich with the smells of growing things, and I even spotted a couple of killer whales moving through the water while waiting for the ferry. The ship on which I crossed dwarfed the ferries I’m used to in Texas — it had six decks, three of which were for automobiles, two for people, one for mysterious ship stuff, and featured several places to eat and an arcade. Though the northern latitudes still provided light when we set off at 9:00pm from Vancouver to Victoria, there was enough mist to block what would have been beautiful views and allow me to have a nap without feeling particularly guilty about it.

On arriving in Victoria, I was promptly greeted by Daniel and our mutual friend Jonathan, who had conspired to come visit at the same time. After much enthusiastic wringing of hands and necks, we jumped into Daniel’s car and headed for his and Fanny’s apartment. Fanny treated me to some amazing white bean hummus (the ginger ale had long ago given out on me), and Jonathan and I retired to the tent that was pitched in the front yard for him and me. We slept well through the rain and chill that night, but decided that we would be better off on the couch and an air mattress for subsequent nights, due to the cold.

The next day I had my first experience with the Priests’ baking skills. They have been baking their own bread now for a while, and have become exceptionally good at it. While I’m not generally a big fan of white breads, they produced some baguettes, focaccias, and others that were just outstanding. After enjoying the fruits of their oven for several days, I’m determined to invest in a wire rack, a baguette pan, and the cookbook they use upon my return home. (As much as I like Jonathan, I was reluctant to snuggle up for warmth.)

After a delightful breakfast, we headed into the city to explore. We started by taking a brief tour of St. Anne’s Academy, where Daniel and Fanny had had their wedding, and proceeded on to the Royal BC Museum, which had some excellent exhibits on the First Nations (the natives who were here before the Europeans showed up), climate change, and a full-sized model of a wooly mammoth (covered in fur from a musk ox, as it turns out). The best part about the mammoth exhibit was that, every 10 minutes or so, it would emit a near-deafening clap of thunder, which inevitably caused whatever gaggle of schoolchildren was passing at the time to scream in terror. I was also pleased to hear my first Canadian “Eh?” at the museum, courtesy of one of the docents.

After leaving the museum and enjoying a delicious Thai lunch, we proceeded on to Beacon Hill Park, which features some great views across the water as well as the tallest totem pole in the world, a 176-foot painted cedar monster which is quite awe-inspiring. That evening, we made two pizzas for dinner — one with a variety of vegetables, and one with potato, which turned out to be surprisingly delicious. (Potato has become one of Daniel’s favorite toppings since he discovered it.) We then went up to the University of Victoria campus to stroll around a bit and to watch The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. The best thing about the University campus was that it’s nearly overrun with adorable bunnies which have very little fear of people.

The next day, we decided that we were going to go to the top of Mount Douglas and then canoe Victoria harbor. The view from the top of the mountain was spectacular. We could see miles and miles of Victoria stretched beneath us, and stayed as long as we could bear the chilly wind.

We then moved on to the harbor, a very active place, with lots of seaplane traffic, harbor ferries that shuttle busily about, and a huge variety of privately owned boats and catamarans. We loaded into a canoe provided by a rental company and embarked upon our grand water adventure. Jonathan and I took the rowing positions and started up the harbor, skirting several moored vessels and a giant barge. We passed under a bridge, and got an up-close view of one of the harbor ferries as it passed us…

…and immediately overturned our canoe with its wake. We were all very surprised to find ourselves abruptly in the chilly Pacific waters, and took several seconds of hysterical laughter and/or stunned, slightly panicked silence to adjust. After an abortive attempt to right the canoe in the deep water, we decided the best thing to do would be to head for shore, drag the canoe out, empty it of water, and then whack the guy who rented it to us upside the head with it.

We were, of course, squarely in the middle of the waterway, so chose a side at random and started for it. We were making negligible progress, due to our waterlogged, fully clothed condition. Fortunately, after only a minute or two of our futile flailings, a nautical Samaritan happened by and loaded us into his boat and dragged the canoe to a nearby dock. We emptied the water, frightened a few nearby society ladies, and decided to send Jonathan and me back to the rental place while Daniel called Fanny to come retrieve us.

Needless to say, the rental chap was a bit surprised to see us paddling back a mere 30 minutes after we had embarked with one less passenger in the boat. “What happened to your friend?” he asked worriedly. “Orca!” I shouted back. (I was still a bit cheesed that he’d told Daniel to sit on the top of a cross-beam, rather than in the bottom of the boat.) I eventually explained what had really happened, and was delighted to see Fanny pull up a few minutes later to bring us back to the apartment where we spent the rest of the day enjoying hot tea, hot showers, hot pasta, hot bread, and a movie.

The next day we broke our fast with more of Fanny’s delightful cooking and then headed up the island to French Beach. We had brought along a picnic, and Fanny enjoyed a book while the menfolk wandered up the sand to a huge rocky outcropping and went climbing among the cliffs, trees, and tidal pools. Jonathan stepped in some water, but fortunately received nothing like the drenching of the day before. We took some time to trade stone-skipping techniques, and Daniel’s skills increased noticeably (“from ‘none’ to ‘some'”, as he put it).

Evening brought another wonderful meal and a long conversation on energy-efficient building techniques, which Daniel has been researching assiduously of late, with an eye toward eventually building their own home once they return to Texas. His enthusiasm for the project is infectious, and has left me wondering if there’s any way that we could do something similar, perhaps combining it with some of the community-building ideas that obsess me for a few days every couple of months.

On our last day together, we packed up and spent the remainder of our time touring the Parliament building and ambling through downtown, visiting bookstores, restaurants, and gift shops, where Jonathan and I picked up a few things for various people waiting back home. The weather obliged us by being sunny and beautiful, and we had a great time enjoying the unhurried company of friends. Eventually the day waned, and we parted company, looking forward to the time when our Fanny’s visa application will be processed and our Canadian friends will be back in Texas.

From my New York compadre, Ryan, in response to the Da Vinci Code protests:

form a prayer vigil by all means. but pray for our country. pray for our troops overseas. pray for our schools, and our children. pray for our homeless. pray for our hungry. pray for our sick, and our lonley. pray for our weak, and for those who feel they might be unworthy of the grace of God.

pray for goverment, for those who are in leadership above us. pray for w. pray for our churches. pray for our communities– one block at a time, if we need to. pray for parents. pray for the cynical. pray for the apathetic. pray for the abused. pray for the desperate. pray for those who feel lost, or afraid, or abandoned, or tired, or ignored. pray for me, forpetessake!

just… c’mon, people, don’t pray for the da vinci code. it’s a book. it’s a movie. it’s a story. we have bigger things to worry about.

Sometimes things up at work get really silly. Bonus points for whomever can identify which parts are me! (Colophon: produced in GarageBand with just its built-in effects. Unlike Greg’s stuff, it’s chockablock with loops. Thanks to Bill Jennings and crew for helping with the recording!)

I’ve mentioned the conversion of the Rio Vista Dam here in San Marcos from its 100 year old design to a series of rapids. The city is doing a pretty good job keeping things on schedule and posting photos of the work in progress to help satisfy the community’s curiosity.

I’m sure looking forward to trying it out!

• ITEM! Today is Emily’s 14th birthday. Happy Birthday, Em!
• You know what I hate about aging? Not the nostril grooming. That I kind of expected — after all, those products must exist for a reason. The thing that took me completely by surprise: eyebrow dandruff. What the heck is up with that?
• ITEM! Want to build your own radio station? Try Pandora. It’s super-nifty.
• ITEM! John Rogers rants here about the administration’s indifference to the law as only an occasionally-Canadian, ex-stand-up-comic can.

Chris and Becky decided this year that, for the 2006 birthday season, they would provide each of our kids with a ticket to The Lion King at the beautiful Majestic Theater in downtown San Antonio. After many weeks of eager anticipation, the day of the show finally arrived on Sunday.

We started off the day at church, after which we lit off for parts south, stopping at Schlitterbahn for two hours along the way. The older kids and I had a grand time banging around the park, riding on floating crocodiles, going down torrential flumes, and crossing pools on floating lily pads while Kathy and Maggie hung around the kids’ play area, reading and splashing down smaller slides respectively.

We then hopped back into the car and, after another 45 minutes of driving, arrived at Becky & Chris’ house, still dripping schlitterwasser from our suits as Meara, Dad McMains, Lana, and Mom McMains joined us for pizza and goodies. After gorging, we finished changing clothes, piled into cars, and headed for the Majestic, where our combined party took up an entire row. After a few minutes of impatient waiting, the lights dimmed and the show began.

The show was not at all what I’d expected. My mental image was sort of a Disney-On-Ice-Without-The-Ice thing. It turned out that the African sensibility that permeates the score of the movie had been extended to the art and costume design to great effect. The costumes didn’t try to hide the fact that there was a human being in each of them, but combined puppetry, sculpture, and dance so that the forms of the animals melded beautifully with that of the person inside. The actors handling the giraffes had stilts attached to each arm and leg; the hyenas had puppet faces in front, with the actors’ heads creating the characteristic hump in the creatures’ backs; the rhino had two actors in a skeleton that actually looked like rhino ribs; the antelope described graceful arcs, driven by a bicycle-derived contraption pushed along by another actor. In addition, there was a fair bit of shadow puppetry, which combined with the other stage goings-on made a striking and unique impression.

The music was polished and well-done. A small pit orchestra combined with percussionists sitting in the box seats to the left and right of the stage to create a lush soundscape, alternately dramatic and rollicking. Maggie was on her feet dancing merrily for the duration of <cite>Hakuna Matata</cite>. I was a little surprised when the music veered off into Tango briefly, and was disappointed that one of my favorite bits from the movie had been altered (where Timon sings about how tasty Poomba is to draw the hyena’s attention), but these were minor matters. The characterizations were well-done, with the boy who played young Simba and the actor portraying Scar particularly standing out.

Thanks again to Chris and Becky for putting the evening together; it was a great treat for us, and will live richly in our family memory.