Now that we know Daniel Farraday's pedigree, there are a couple things that have me baffled.
1) His eyes. OK, maybe I'm really too picky, but I've always noticed people's eyes and their eye color. For example, when I saw "Tommy" the first time, I was really disturbed that the child they chose to play the young Tommy had average brown eyes, not the spectacular blue eyes of Roger Daltrey, who played the older Tommy. Your eyes can't change color like that. And ever since 10th grade biology when I found out that blue eyes are recessive, I've been super observant of the casting of actors in regards to their eye color and those of their characters' parents' eye color. Take Daniel Farraday. His eyes are brown. Eloise Hawking's AND Charles Widmore's eyes are both blue. Genetically speaking, it is impossible, assuming they are his biological parents. Which brings us to a subquestion...what's up with the name Farraday, anyway? Why not Daniel Widmore or Daniel Hawking? Who's Farraday? And why?
2) His accent. Explain why two Brits have a son who speaks with an American accent. Did Eloise send him away to boarding school in the states at an impressionable age? Perhaps while she was a Hostile on the Island? Or was Danny Boy with his mum on the island where most people spoke with an American accent which is where he picked it up? Will we see the young Daniel there?
Ever since I found out Eloise Hawking is Daniel's mother, I stopped suspecting that Widmore was his father because of the eye color factor. I then began suspecting Non-Aging Man Richard Alpert, not that that explains the last name either, but it would explain the eye color.
Other than the eye thing, the casting for young and old versions of the characters has been exceptional. And I knew at the opening of the show who the young boy and his mother were immediately. And I also guessed correct that Marvin Candle/Edgar Halliwax/Mark Wickmund/Dr. Chang is Miles Straume's Dad. But of course then I have to ask...who is Daddy Straume?
Every evening I receive a preview of what will be on Wisconsin Public Radio the following day. Tomorrow is supposed to be a program in the morning with the following topic:
"A new survey suggests the economic recession has Americans redefining their necessities. Some say dishwashers, clothes dryers, and other appliances are now luxuries. After six, Joy Cardin and her guest invite you to share how the economic downturn has effected the way you consume.Guest: James Burroughs (BURR-ohs), Associate Professor of Commerce, McIntyre School of Commerce, University of Virginia."
Dishwasher? I never had a dishwasher. I never had a microwave. Guess I have always been in a recession. Now as for the clothes dryer? That depends on your perspective. I suppose the people saying that Clothes Dryers are luxuries have the luxury of living in a nice dry climate where you can hang your clothes out to dry on a clothesline. I assume they also have the luxury of having enough open yard space that affords them the room to have an outdoor clothesline that's not under trees and eaves where you get tree debris and bird poop on your clean clothes. And in inclement weather, I suppose these people also have the luxury of having a roomy basement or laundry room where they can hang their clothes inside. It seems that if you have the space and room and fortunate climate that affords you the ability to go without a Clothes Dryer, you are the one with the luxury.
I remember more of my dream last night that I forgot to write previously.
I dreamt we also had a caged rodent...like a gerbil/hamster/guinea pig. I remember thinking in the dream that my house had become like the Natalie Portman character's (Sam) in "Garden State." I love that movie.
I dreamt that Stan and I bought a French Bulldog puppy. It was so cute. It was mostly all white. We were later at a pet store and found an English Bulldog puppy, white and tan, and bought that as well, thinking, "you won't get a chance to get both a French and English bulldog like this."
After we get them home (which was sort of like our home, but different because there was a hallway with bedrooms on the southwest side of our house running alongside the length of the house, sort of like a bungalow style except bungalows are rather hallway-less), I start to realize that maybe we had bit off more than we could chew with four dogs and two new puppies. The next morning I wake up and realize we didn't put the pups to bed. Our old dogs were in their kennels, but the puppies had free-range. We had neglected to buy the new pups kennels! As I walked down the hallway, I passed a room where my mother was sleeping. She was staring out a window, and didn't seem to realize I was there. I went into the living room. The English bulldog puppy was under the couch, and it looked like he was choking on something. I didn't know where the Frenchie was. I felt very sad.
What were we thinking? It's not like buying a couple rare houseplants or something. I mean, yeah, in dreamworld it would be great to have 4 dogs, plus the financial resources and space for them, but even in dreamworld having 2 puppies at a time is too much. Of course, maybe in dreamworld we don't have to work for a living and can spend our entire days taking care of and training two puppies.
I just remember I dreamt more than I wrote down previously.
I was mailing a bunch of items as normal, however I was using stamps on all of them even though they had high postage (usually high postage items require DC or Insurance, so I take them to the counter at the PO). One envelope I had completely filled with stamps so there was no room for the address. So I tried peeling the stamps off, but I had overlapped some of the stamps so when I tried to peel them off, the printed part of the stamp beneath stuck to the backside of the stamp on top of it. I was really upset to see a $5.00 stamp ruined because of that (sorry, if an item of mine requires $5 of postage, it's also getting DC at the minimum, so I'm not going to stamp it). Also, some of my envelopes had stamps in multiple layers, attached at the top edge only on top of one another, so they hung like you could flip through them like a flip book, if that makes sense. I thought that probably wouldn't be kosher with the PO.
One Eerie Surreal Dream, with Special Guest Star, Jerry Seinfeld!
I was with someone I knew briefly about 15 years ago, and her daughter who was about as old as when I knew her (I have no desire to see this person again). We were in a large shopping mall that was very dimly lit. I started pushing her daughter in a stroller. It wasn't cumbersome at all, both brat and stroller were very lightweight...I was hardly doing any work (which is probably why I didn't mind). I pushed them into a restroom, and stood by the kid while mom went into a stall. When she came back out, I went into a stall. It had turned into a unisex restroom, since I could tell there was a big, noisy man in the stall next to mine. There seemed to be an extra door on this stall that just hung there and didn't seem to be useful for anything.
When I came out of the stall, it was like I was in the Student Center at CSU. I was trying to see if I got accepted into an art exhibit. I was looking through records and books trying to find my name. Finally I asked a woman in charge, and she gave me a sheet of paper. I couldn't find my name listed. I was disappointed. Then I went into the main part of the cafeteria. I sat down at a table, which seemed like a car (maybe it was at Jackrabbit Slim's) because it seemed to move. But maybe it wasn't the car/table moving, maybe it was the conveyor belt of old people passing by that was moving. Or were they standing still and I was moving? Who knows. But it was like a parade of Del Boca Vista residents. My parents were there too. First my dad passes by. He's facing the wrong way. I say "Hi Dad" and he turns to see me, smiles and says hi back. He's standing with a cane, and doesn't look as old as the last time I saw him. A few more old people down, my mom is standing, talking to some other old ladies. She's wearing an outfit that is like something Polyester Retirement Modern...kelly green and white color...totally not my mom. I couldn't understand why she dressed like that....not that there's anything wrong with that...it's just not her. Also on the conveyor belt was Jerry Seinfeld. Poor Jerry, ending up doing schtick to an audience of his parents' Florida neighbors on a tray line in a Colorado university cafeteria. So were the old people part of the show, and the audience was the people in the cafeteria, mostly students probably? Or was the show on the tray line and the old people were his audience? Hard to say. Despite this very strange turn of events for Jerry, I found him quite hot! He looked like Jerry, except younger, younger even than the first season of Seinfeld. Like maybe in his late 20s...his hair was longer. He had some strange piece of material with him that was like a small quilt, but not a quilt. It had about 5 squares of colors across and down...the edges of the colors blended into each other. I don't know what it was, but I found it fascinating. I have no idea why he had it, why I was intrigued by it, or why I found him so attractive. I mean, I like Jerry, he definitely wins out over George and Kramer, but...I don't know, it was kind of weird. Anyway, getting back to the dream...I turn around in my table/car and see all the old people that were formerly on the conveyor belt sitting behind me as if the car/table turned into a roller coaster or open train (like the kind you can take in the Milwaukee/Brookfield Zoo...zoomobile). Jerry is talking to people behind me, who are my parents. My parents know Jerry? This can't be right. I say something to Jerry and smile, hoping he'll notice me. Unfortunately, he's more interested in the old people. WTF.
Hey Stan, did you know Jerry went to high school in Massapequa, New York? Chattapeaqua, baby! Our Terry Mattheson is George's Art Vandelay.
They do not come from a non-English-speaking country. They're not new to this country...they probably have to count back many generations to find an immigrant in their ancestry. They write forum and blog posts that smack of racism, they say how they "vote the Bible" and proudly support "Engish Only". They're out there, and they're on ebay and other selling venues. But they don't make sales, no. They make sells.
Sells. As in "woo hoo, I made my first sell today (doing happy dance)."
I just want to scream.
It's "SALES" you nincompoops!! You MAKE SALES. It's a NOUN. You SELL things. SELLS is a VERB.
It's so basic. Why is it so hard to grasp?
How did this happen to our "English Speaking" population?
I am very relieved that Kathleen Falk has won relection for Dane County Supervisor. It was a bit scary last night as the election results were coming in online, since Mistele was ahead pretty far. One of the local news stations was showing a Mistele supporter, a 20-something rural blonde, stating how she hopes Mistele wins because she doesn't want her taxes raised to support a commuter train since she'll never use it. I wanted to reach through my tv and slap her senseless.
I had to keep telling myself that the precincts reporting early at that time were rural, and sure enough, with each update the gap narrowed, until Falk was ahead. Then after about 33% reporting, the nightly news declared her a winner.
Last weekend Stan actually helped distribute campaign literature for Falk's campaign in conjunction with AFSCME, his union, and we got our very first political yard sign! It's odd how many people in the union at his old work place are Republicans (this was a non-partisan election, yet obviously, Falk is Dem and Mistele Rep). The disconnect is amazing. Put the Republicans in power in the county and they go for privatization and these people would face losing their jobs. I hear they did that they privatized either Milwaukee or some other county and now it's a mess, but it's too late. These coworkers just don't get it, biting the hands that feed them. Fortunately, that team of near-retirements are getting pretty powerless, and it's a good thing since Stan will be leaving the courthouse as a worksite and heading back to the "prairie" where these walking contradictions also work, where he worked since 1997 until 2006. Same job title, same employer, different worksite, different atmosphere. He's doing this to save his health. The courthouse had its advantages: Bike, walk, or bus to work, no hillbilly coworkers, a nice law library with WiFi to take a break in, when he got a break. But the disadvantages outweighed them. The kind of food preparation was extremely hard on his wrists. He has developed carpal tunnel, and he is the only one involved in cooking, so the burden is entirely on him. Sometimes he'd go from 6 am until 2 without a break due to the lack of coworkers. Although he'll have to drive to the prairie, the workload will be less. There are more people there to take over in the absence of coworkers. He'll actually be able to get breaks, and in the summer there's the prairie, which is beautiful and relaxing. He'll be able to run errands like post office runs on the way back from work which will save time having to make special trips. There's a post office down the street from "the prairie" in Verona, unlike downtown Madison, which believe it or not, does not have a full-service post office. I know, mind boggling. But the most important thing is his health. Since we both will have to work until the day we die, it's important to keep that.
Had (shudder the thought) Mistele won, this would have been a very different post. I probably would have been cursing Chief Niwot at making the prospect of returning all too real. I don't have to worry about that, at least for another 4 years or so. Job security for Stan, hopefully the commuter train will become a reality and he could potentially use it to commute to the prairie. Chief Niwot's curse still does not apply to us. Madison is where I live. And I want to keep it that way.
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