Why you need to know about TOR and why you will probably be using it in the future.

I’ve been pretty quiet about the whole SOPA thing. For your of you who don’t know, SOPA, the “Stop Online Piracy Act” (and it’s Analog in the Senate (PIPA)) will allow the United States government to block certain websites based on an arbitrary set of criteria. You can find out a lot more online. It’s censorship, basically. In the same sense that China, Siria, Iran and other human-rights unfriendly countries do. Welcome to America in 2012. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

It’s a shame it’s come to this. Write your senator. Tell him you won’t reelect him if he supports the PIPA bill. Write the president. Tell him you care about the freedom of information. Tell your mom. Tell your sister. Sticker your cat. Shout it from the rooftops. Here’s a huge list of cool and easy stuff you can do to make your voice heard.

The bottom line: the world’s greatest library, the collection of the knowledge and culture that makes us a people, the Internet, is about to be shut off from you. You’ll still be able to use it, but you’ll never be able to trust it. The internet is going away in favor of a brand-friendly propaganda-only machine that prevents you from freely using, thinking, or learning things that your government, and the corporation it works for, don’t want you to know. Maybe you think this is a good thing. I don’t know. I hope not. I want us to stay friends, you and I.

If this doesn’t scare you, I don’t know what else will. Someday, the internet you know and love could look like this:

But here’s a sliver of hope for you.

I have, for years, been using something called “Tor.” Tor is “a free and open network that helps you defend against a form of network surveillance that threatens personal freedom and privacy, confidential business activities and relationships, and state security known as ‘traffic analysis’.”

They actually have a bootable live disk (based on Debian) now that works as a computing environment wherein all the traffic is routed through TOR. This is the same software that internet users in countries with oppressive governments use. It’s slower and clunkier, but it works, it’s (mostly) free and (mostly) safe.

Download the stand-alone browser bundle and give it a try. What can it hurt?

The bottom line is, Tor works. If not only as a proxy, at least as a source of anonymity. And using it, configuring it, and supporting it, I think, is something that is going to be very important to our future as a people.

Sad that it is so. But you would do yourself a real service to familiarize yourself with Tor and the Tor Project.

So Gaia and I are watching Mars Needs Moms, and at one point, (spoilers) the stupid kid leads his mom out into the surface on Mars. Mom is wearing only an breathing helmet and a football jersey. Gaia turns to me and asks, “Wouldn’t she be cold?”

“That’s a great question,” I say. “I think she would.”

We quickly looked up the average surface temperatures on Mars.

Turns out, if Mars was in the midst of a heatwave and it was the very hottest part of the day in the middle of summer, Mom would probably have been ok, with a maximum temperature of 20° C (68° F) having been recored on Mars.

However, because Mars has such a thin atmosphere, the temperatures on Mars vary wildly thorughout the day, and the story sets the actors on the surface of Mars just before sunrise. So it’s pretty likely that the temperatures were more likely in the -87° C (-124.6) range.

So, yeah. Mom would have been cold. But that would have been the least of her problems; I mean, who sleeps in a football jersey?

In the quiet skies of Christmas Eve

Carry me home, oh easterly wonder, oh Christmas lantern.
Carry my dreams into the rising sun.
Bring us salvation, oh Christmas lantern,
show us the path along which tomorrow will come.

This is a thing I will bring forward from 2011.

We’d just returned from a nice family get together in Racine on Christmas Eve night, and as I was throwing out some trash I saw a gitka.

Gaia and Jenifer and I were disembarking from the Scion. I was standing in the alley behind our house in Milwaukee, dropping some trash in the cans back there. In the sky, to the west I see a familiar orange and yellow spark of flame.

“What the hell is that?” I ask to myself, more any anyone. I can’t get my eyes to focus on the colored blob, the infinite space between the Christmas Eve stars playing havoc with my depth perception.

My mind flashes to the sky lantern festivals I’ve read about and seen depicted in film. This must be some loan-wolf paper lantern. It is beautiful and wrong. One does not often see a great flame rising in the west. Almost never. It is a blessing and a surprise.

Jeni and Gaia come out and see it too. The lantern, flickering and bobbing either 20 feet or 200 feet off the ground, on an easterly flow, floated away as quickly as it appeared– giving us each a few moments under it to make a wish and send it traveling along its side.

It headed swiftly off to Lake Michigan, and straight on until morning.

Gaia and I watched The Fraggle Rock holiday special “The Bells of Fraggle Rock” on Netflix today. I thought it was really good. I always thought it was a shame that Fraggle Rock wasn’t a more beloved franchise.

I offer this line of dialogue for you to reflect on over your own Festival of the Bells.

Cantus the Minstrel: Last year the cold came and it went away, just as it always did. What is different this year?

Gobo: Nothing. Except, we didn’t ring our bells. But what good does ringing our bells do? There’ no Great Bell at the center of the rock.

Cantus the Minstrel: But there is a Great Bell at the heart of the rock.

Gobo: (After discovering that the ringing the bells unfreezes his friends.) The Great Bell is my bell! It’s Wembley’s bell. Our bells keep the rock moving. Its our music that keeps the rock alive!

Wishing you and yours a joyous season.

When I look back on days like this, I can't help but realize that she'll only be six this one time. 
And then seven. And then eight. And then eighteen. 

Here's to another year in the sun.

The Writelarge.com review and appreciation of “The Muppets”

I want to talk about the new Muppets film, “The Muppets”. I don’t think I can keep it short, so I’m not going to try. If you need a short version, I wrote this haiku:

This is a great movie.
But there are some little things
that don’t belie hope.

I went into this movie knowing that It would be a bigger deal for me than anyone else in the family. I wept with joy through the first 20 minutes of the film. Jeni kept looking over at me with that look she makes when she suspects I may be having a moment.

Oh yes. I had a moment. Many. I had moments of pure joy, again and again, even through the sour spots. This film is a salve on the wounds of a long suffering Muppet fandom.

Just the right touches.

Fundamentally, “The Muppets” is a love song written to and by the generation that grew up and during the Muppets glory years. Little details make the difference here, the film makes subtle (and not so subtle) calls back to the original show – not just in the obvious TV flashback scenes, but in thousands of tiny details.

Little things make the difference: There is clearly a banjo riff in the opening song and dance number. The set design surrounding the Muppet Theater that looks – almost too much – like what the already shabby Muppet set probably would look like after 30 years of (additional) neglect. The lobby of Muppet Theater is realized to to shabby chic, beautiful, glamourous perfection.

There is love in these little details. Look at the subtle curves that have been added to Miss Piggy’s head shape, the salt-and-pepper tufts in the fuzzier-than-ever Fozzie Bear, the beautiful ironwork on the fence at Kermit’s Hollywood home. Attention to these little details are not part of the recipe for staging a commercially successful movie, however they are part of another subtle story being told. Someone made a choice to care about these details. Because of that choice, the sum is greater than the parts.

Peter Savieri, the artist who painted a portrait of Miss Piggy for a key scene in the film, demonstrates this “abundance of care” better than I ever could in a blog post at ToughPigs.com. The subtle back story here is that the Muppets matter to this movie’s makers. This was a great fear of the fandom relieved. We’re not going to be subjected to a Muppets rebrand made by people whose attention is really being paid to making money than to the dignity of the franchise.

And then there are The Moopets. As described by the film’s antagonist Tex Richman, The Moopets are “cynical Muppets for a cynical world” (and, apparently, so is Dave Grohl). The Moopets represent the threat of what could have been part of a Muppets rebranding gone horribly, horribly wrong. If the captain at the helm of any Muppets project hadn’t been driven by a love of the Muppets, the Mooppets could have happened. The Moopets have no dignity. The Moopets have no integrity. The Moopets have no problem altering the lyrics to classic Muppets songs to promote their commercial interest. The Moopets don’t mind promoting Cars 2 in random exterior shots throughout the film. Oh, wait… um… never mind that last sentence.

The point is, The Moopets are an over-the-top nod and a wink to the Muppets fandom’s worst nightmare about Disney’s handling of the brand over the years. The Moopets presence in the film tells Muppet fandom that things are going to be ok. The filmmakers have seen your nightmares, Muppets fanatic, and they acknowledge and dismiss them. And there was much rejoicing.

But, of course, just because Muppet fandom has been assured that something won’t go wrong doesn’t mean that anything will go right. The greatest question on the lips of every person in the Muppets fandom over the last year: can “The Muppets” mark the beginning of a silver era for Muppetdom? It’s been a long 30 years.

Sometimes even frogs have rainy days.

It would have been so easy to go for cheap “Behind the Music” laughs at the Muppet’s expense. Imagine the drama and heartbreak and jokes that could have been told about the Muppets spiral through the 90’s. But again, such attention was paid to maintaing the Muppet’s dignity, that instead of spelling out each and every drama the Muppets endured, the viewer is given only subtle hints and clues as to what occurred in the intervening years.

Throughout the movie, the characterizations of the older Muppets were spot on, developed ever-so-slightly in the right directions, with subtle, unsaid backstories– that never went too far into detail as to cement anything in Muppet canon. Specific holes in the last 30 years are left up to the viewer’s imagination to fill in the blanks, meaning important questions remain unanswered. Did Miss Piggy and Kermit ever marry? Did the Electric Mayhem ever realize their mellow and profitable dreams? Did Muppets From Space really happen?

Some questions, though, are answered.

Has Fozzie Bear aged? The bear’s brows may have gone gray with age, but Fozzie Bear has regressed. A once beloved comedy icon in his own right, Fozzie is now the featured act in a lowly Muppets tribute band (The Moopets) performing in Reno, Nevada. Fozzie may have well found himself back at El Sleezo Cafe. This turn of events, however, builds on Fozzie’s character. He’s sunk to the lowest level of Las Vegas show culture,– the sub-D-List resort and casino. And yet, he remains forever Fozzie Bear, because even as he takes his lumps, his heart is still in making people laugh. Clearly, the bear will take whatever audience he can get. And we still love him for it. Remember, it was never Fozzie’s comedy that made us love him, it’s his heart– it was that Fozzie Bear gets up on that stage, night after night, and tries his best. The Fozzie Bear we meet in Reno is still at it.

Has Miss Piggy become a good person? Miss Piggy is the most human female lead in the film, showing that she’s both compassionate and dedicated, and maybe one of the few Muppets on good financial, moral, and ethical ground when she’s “rediscovered.” In the past, her relationship with Kermit has been presented as completely pathological; in the intervening years, she and Kermit may well have lived together and were even possibly married. This opens up so many dramatic possibilities. Did Kermit leave Piggy at the altar? Were they on the track to becoming a Hollywood power couple? What went wrong? All this drama is left unsaid, except for a few subtle lines and, of course, the torn photo of the two in wedding clothes (a promotional photo from “He’ll Make Me Happy” the non-canonical Muppets take Manhattan).

The point is, again, the story – and more importantly the franchise– is stronger for the things left unsaid.

The egotistic and self-deluded Miss Piggy is still there, yes. And she makes a roaring comeback at the movie’s end, but underneath is a Miss Piggy who has grown. She comes to Muppet Theater, ultimately, not to once again attempt to ensnare Kermit, but because the rest of the Muppets need her her star power. She knows this. She even steps into a leadership role at one point, cementing her place as the second ventricle of the Muppets beating heart. Miss Piggy showing loyalty to the community? Piggy rehearsing? A Miss Piggy who is honest? This is a new Miss Piggy. This is a Piggy we can love.

But can the frog?

Why is Kermit so depressed? Kermit has been changed. Clearly, he’s been wounded. He’s got some of the saddest lines in the entire film. He snaps at Piggy in the streets of Paris: “Who do you think’s been taking care of that house all these years?” This tells us everything we need to know about where Kermit’s heart has been since we last saw the Muppets.

He’s been clinging to the past, unable or unwilling to make a change or move forward with his life. What was this change? What hurt the frog so? Was it Piggy? Seems too obvious.

We all know what happened that effectively stopped Kermit’s growth and development. Jim died. It’s left unsaid in the movie, but you cannot take the Muppets into the present without dealing with the harsh reality of the past.

Did something break we can’t repair?

In a seemingly simple line from the the first real Muppet musical number in the movie, Kermit wonders aloud if it would be possible to capture the old Muppet magic, or is there something missing that can’t be replaced or repaired.

That something’s name is James Maury Henson.

Throughout the film, Jim Henson remains a subtle presence. He’s shown in backgrounds and in streetlamp flags along the streets where Muppet Theater is located. The “Jim” Muppet is seen the backgrounds nearly as often as the obnoxious product placement for Cars 2.

Henson’s absence over the 22 years since his death is candidly addressed (in the most bizarrely meta moment of a film admittedly peppered with meta moments,) when Kermit looks at the wall of memories in his cottage. His eyes scan across a pin board of promotional stills from many classic Muppet guest stars, but they linger for a second on a particular photo. In the center of the scrapbook as a simple black and white promotional shot of Kermit and Jim Henson.

The loss of Jim Henson was, clearly, the point of the knife that cut away part of the frog’s soul. One can’t help but imagine that Kermit, in his way, has spent all these years trying to figure that out. Trying to get over that loss. Trying to move on. Trying to heal.

The answer might have been as simple as “getting the gang back together and putting on a show,” but like so many simple gestures of healing, it takes a stranger, a wandering savant, to bring back the fertility that the wounded king of the Muppets so desperately craves.

Of course, this makes Walter Kermit’s Percival. Lets not go there.

Cameos of note.

In addition to Henson’s deliberate presence in the film other Muppet cameos appear in the film and are well executed.

• Pepe, the king Prawn, is briefly seen as partner to Miss Piggy’s big dance number, a perfect role for the character who many fanatics believe was at one-time slated as upstart Kermit usurper.
• Wayne and Wanda, endorsed all these years as “wholesome, American entertainment” by conservative mouthpiece Sam the American Eagle, get a brief moment when they think the lights are down to wildly make-out with reckless abandon.
• Robin, Kermit’s young nephew, is mercifully not in the film. Think of the continuity problems this avoids. Good choice.
• Beauregard, the incompetent janitor added in Season 3 of the Muppet Show’s original run is used to great effect.
• Mad Man Mooney’s, the used car dealership first seen in The Muppet Movie, appears as Sweetums comes dashing out of the used car lot where he worked as a car jack prior to joining the Muppets on their first trip to Hollywood.

Good Choices.

The selective and intelligent use of the Muppets many one-joke characters were good choices for the filmmakers. But the good choices didn’t end there. Other smart decisions included:

Keeping the franchise clean.
Although there was some talk about trying to arrange an Elmo cameo in the film, no reference to any other Muppet franchise appears. Fraggles and Doozers, Dog Cops, Bear and the Big Blue Whatever, and even Sesame Street, are all good and wonderful things, but don’t belong in a Muppets film.

And let us make special note of the lack of Muppet Babies in the film. Let the two franchises never combine. Let there be healing and understanding around the idea that the Muppet Babies are not, and can never be, Muppet canon.

True Confession: I did notice a “Muppet Babies” lunchbox in Walter’s Muppet shrine in his bedroom. For a few terror-filled moments, I worried that there would be some attempt to align the conflicting timelines of the Muppets movies with the Muppet Babies storyline. But I don’t begrudge Walter his Muppet Babies fandom. We were all young once and made dumb choices.

A few sour notes

There were some moments where the polish wore a little thin in “The Muppets.” In particular, the the film’s inclusion of certain licensed music. No amount of nostalgia will ever make me believe that “We Built This City” was a good choice. It’s made all the more frustrating by the fact that the original songs in the movie are really pretty good. Why not have more new and original songs performed by the Muppet players? It’s been 30 years for goodness sake. Someone must have written a new song in that time.

Other musical miscues abound. The nonsensical merging of a barbershop gag and the otherwise outstanding a capeella performance of “Smells like Teen Spirit” is weird and disjointed. And while “Forget You” performed by Camilla and the chickens was a great moment, there just aren’t very many really great bits in the telethon.

The telethon (warning: spoilers) ultimately fails to raise the money the Muppets were after, so it’s hard to point at the lack of stunning performances as a place where the film falls flat, but given the magic that flowed in and out of every other aspect of the movie, the content of the telethon was not up to the bar set by the Movie’s opening number.

The Rainbow Connection Reprised, (Part II, Again, Some More, the Quickening) was a less than satisfying climax to the telethon, leaving, of course, the Whistling Caruso even less of a climax, leaving, of course, the final number of the film, then again, less climactic. The telethon dribbles to an ending that, frankly, resolves very little, and could have very easily left the movie limping to a dissatisfying end.

Fortunately, the gang at Muppet Studios had a sure thing to turn to: Mah Na Mah Na. Mah Na Mah Na comes in from the bullpen and close down the game. And it works. Give Mah Na Mah Na the save. The film producers, like a good baseball manager, knew that when the starting pitcher starts to struggle, you need to bring in the closer. Good Choice

But let’s talk for a second about The Whistling Caruso.
One of the things that made the Muppet Show of old great was that occasionally there would be these weird moments of real (and often bizarre) talent. A man whistling might have been one of those moments. A Muppet whistling like that is not. I mean, maybe if the Muppet, through some amazing feat of puppeteering, was really whistling, then you’ve got something.

But the point is moot, because Walter’s character is not offered to the Movie-going audience as a performer. Throughout the movie he shows no interest in performing with the Muppets. He even muffs most of his dances in the opening number in Smalltown. The Whistling Cauruso comes out of nowhere. It makes no sense.

Walter’s clearly a ‘behind the scenes’ character. His talent should be leadership and inspiration. He’s the hero, not the star. Walter is a very manly Muppet, too manly to fit into Muppetdom, to Muppety to fit into manhood. It leaves him in a unique position, and to suddenly prop him up as The Whistler cheapens us all. Also, I’m not a fan of his suit.

“I didn’t laugh; I didn’t know how.”

If Walter is the hero, then who is the villain of this film? It’d be easy to say the wealthy oil baron Tex Richman. Tex Richman is clearly a muppet of a man. He’s hardly a villain, so much as he’s a plot device. He even gets a song– and it’s actually pretty good.

I have two suggestions and one assertion.

Suggestions:

1. Mary.

I’m not a fan of Mary. Give me a second to address Mary directly: Say what you mean and mean what you say, Mary. Your passive aggressive nonsense nearly killed the Muppets again. Go to your room.

I don’t have much faith that Gary and Mary’s relationship will withstand the test of time, other than that Gary will probably remain blindly dedicated to her for the rest of her life because that’s the kind of awesome guy Gary is. Mary is a passive aggressive self-deluded millennial archetype– so much so that the entire town arranges a song and dance number centered around how happy her life is – just so she can have her dramatic moment whining about Gary’s (admittedly weird) preoccupation with his Muppet brother.

But Mary’s skills as an elementary school shop teacher are put to use rebuilding Muppet Theater, and ultimately save the day during the telethon. So, she’s probably not the villain.

2. Uncle Deadly

The Phantom of the Muppet Show has a canonical grudge against the Muppets, and his change of heart ultimately helps resolve what little structure revolves around the Tex Richman plot. But he’s not a villain by his own admission in the film, so that kind of rules him out.

Assertion: The villain of “The Muppets” is none-other than the film’s own producer and distributor, Disney.

3. Disney.

Who among us did not feel betrayed by the Disney folks handling of the Muppet franchise in the early years? And are not the dust covered relics of the pre-Disney Muppet icons shoved into an abandoned theme park (that never was) not accurate reflections of every Muppet fan’s observation of the Muppets’ earliest years under the Disney umbrella?

As the fandom’s everyman, our hearts broke alongside Walter’s as he saw the dust-covered Electric Mayhem bus. We cursed the dilapidated state of the theater. We swallowed back the familiar bile of disappointment that we faced through the 90’s as Kermit and friends became less and less a respected pantheon and more and more of an ignored, cast-off investment.

In fact, Richman, as the on-paper antagonist of the film, even reveals his final ace-in-the-hole to the Muppets following the completion of the Muppet Telethon, that it doesn’t matter what happens to the Muppets, because he owns the entire Muppet property: both physical and intellectual. In reality, this ace-in-the-hole really belongs to Disney. Disney, as well as Tex Richman, can take the Moopets and make Mmuppets out of them– fandom’s greatest fears– winked at earlier in the film, stands to become reality.

That plot point is only resolved via a throw-away moment revealed during the final credit sequence. The story and the film end with the Muppets and their fandom standing in defiance of the legal fact that they’ve been sold to big business and stripped of their right to remain Muppets.

Hard to live without

This film’s creators should to be applauded for all their fine work, avoiding doing a cheap “reboot” like J.J. Abrams’ take on Star Trek. They went all-in to bring the Muppets forward into the 21st century with dignity, integrity, and respect.

By all likes, they’ve succeeded, and although I don’t think that we’ll ever see Muppetry take center stage in the modern era of cheap and easy CG animation, the world does need a happy song sometimes, and the Muppets are, thanks in large part to this film, in just the place to bring it one.

Can the franchise ride high on the euphoria of “The Muppets” success? One can only hope so; it has been great seeing the Muppets appearing as celebrities again, appearing in parades and hosting grand openings.

There is no question that Muppet fandom has the will to sustain a revamped Muppet Show.

Only time will tell if Disney has the same.

Gabe Wollenburg used to have a subscription to Muppets Magazine and he believes the copies are still in their neat little stack in the secret compartment in the closet of his childhood bedroom. However, he’s not going to go look because the minute he discovers they’re not there he will have lost something precious.

I'm not sure who to tell about this, so I'm telling everyone.
My daughter was hooting and cheering last night as Link and I figured out how to pilot his Loftwing.

And, it was she that took the sword fight tutorial to task, opting to play through it a second time in order to "make sure she got it."

I am filled with the joy of a purple rupee.

Is Mercury in retrograde yet?
Had a colossal failure of my vehicle’s communication system this morning.

Pulling on to I-94 West from 45 South (in the demon’s run known as The Zoo Interchange), I was about to swing down and take a pot shot at a Womp Rat, but the guy behind me wouldn’t get over so I could get into the lane. So I tapped my horn. “Beep.”

Not only did the guy not get out of the way, but the Beep didn’t stop. “Beeeeeeeeeeeeee…” I tapped the horn a few more times, and the beeping continued uninterrupted.

I looked back at Gaia in the back seat. She looked sad, like she looks when dad makes an ass of himself in public. (She’s six. She’s mastered that look by now. It’s a survival technique.) The horn continued, unconcerned.

So we drove over to the zoo and pulled over in a gravel lot there, horn blasting all the way. I crawled under the dashboard, tore of flaps and covers and baffles looking for the horn’s fuse. The horn continued, unconcerned.

I begin to feel sad. Very sad. Even with the key out and the car stopped, the horn continues.

I decide to try a different tactic. Frowning at the front end of the car does nothing. I deepen my frown, and, I swear, the horn gets louder.

“Dad,” Gaia says, “The horn is stuck.”

Thank you. Yes. I know.

“Why don’t you drive to a shop?”

I suppose I could. There’s a little shop up the street about a mile. I hop back in the car and it starts and for a tiny second (while the computer resets) the horn ceases.

“It stopped!” Gaia says, just in time for it to kick back in. I pull onto Bluemound Road and I am completely aware of two things:

1. Nobody seems to care that I am beeping constantly.
2. Everybody seems to be pissed off that I am beeping constantly.

It is the longest light I have ever sat at. I imagine the same is true for the guy in the truck ahead of me.

Today, as Gaia and I drove to work and school, I had one of those moments. It is good to occasionally be reminded that this tiny person, who most of the time I'm pretty sure I'm screwing up forever, is ultimately going to be ok.

Gaia: "Daddy, you know what I would wish?"
Gabe: "What, honey?"
Gaia: "I would wish that bad things wouldn't happen."
Gabe: "Oh. ... Why do you ask? Are bad things happening to you?"
Gaia: "No. I just wish that flowers wouldn't have to die, and that it would always be sunny, and we'd always know where we were going."
Gabe: "Wow. That's a big wish."
Gaia: "Yeah, but I always forget to make it."
Gabe: "That's a pretty big wish for a little girl. I love you for it, but you can't stop all the bad things in the world, no matter how hard you try."
Gabe: "You can only try to be a really good person and be kind and respectful. Some things have to take care of themselves."
Gaia: "Yeah. But its sad."

I wonder if this wish is related to something that happened this summer.

This summer, we took the boat out to Little Star Lake. There is a sandy beach and a marked swim area where Gaia likes to splash around. And since it's attached to a park of some variety, there's a good chance of there being other kids for Gaia to play with. Its one of her favorite places. Anyway, against the advise of ladies who know better, we tried to head out to the beach there one day.

We pulled the boat over to a parking spot, and realized that we'd ended up in a cluster of people who were drinking beer, smoking cigars and blasting music.

So we left.

My heart sunk as we were left to explain to a sobbing child that some people do not seek to partake in the lake's beauty, but instead feel perfectly justified to conquer and consume their beauty. She wailed as we scooted away, "Why? Why would anyone be like that?"

"Because they are bad people," I said.

The waters of Manitowish Lake were nearly impassable that day, I can tell you. The chop was as vicious as I have ever seen it.

I am grateful that they have been calmer lately. I do believe we can make a difference in this world.

Apparently I am touring the nation seeing Pandas. I didn't realize this at the time, but for whatever reason, I felt a disturbingly strong need to visit a Panda while I was in San Diego. So far, Gaia and I have seen three of the nation's 11 pandas.

• Last year at the National Zoo Gaia and I saw Mei Xiang and Tian Tain.
• This year at the San Diego Zoo we saw Gao Gao. Bai Yun was hiding out around back, so we missed her and we did not see Yun Zi.
• We still need to get to the Memphis Zoo to see Ya Ya and Le Le. (Note that Ya Ya and Le Lee do not yet meet the standards of notoriety as estaplished by the watchmen of the Great Wiki.)
• And to Zoo Atlanta to see Lun Lun Xi Lan, Po and Yang Yang.

Considering there are only four zoos in The United States that have pandas, I think that's pretty good for a thing I didn't know I was doing. If I tried harder, I could probably have seen a few more.

And, it's worth noting: Panda's are cool and all, but there are rarer animals. Seeing two of the seven remaining Northern White Rhinoceros on the planet is something that although Gaia doesn't see as significant now, but I hope one day she realizes that she has beheld the last remaining wonders of a once great species as it quietly rested in a mud puddle.

It's not her fault, really. The zoo, as great as even the San Diego Safari Park is, is about the worst place you can go to commune with an animal. It is, sadly, a sobering fact about these trips to the world's greatest zoos, that people, in general, do not care about nature or animals nearly as much as they care about free-refills and giant, ugly-ass yellow balloons.