Riffing

A post? Well, kind of. But as a result of a post over at Naturally Selected, by science journalist, editorial-type, erstwhile bemused postdoctoral fellow, former LabRat, and occasional Ricardiblog reader RPG, I came across a rather interesting article about the rate (or guesses at it, anyway), of non-paternity in western society.

You can read my take (i.e., "shameless stealing of RPG's idea and mild analysis thereof") on this at my other blog.

In other news: I am now Twittered. As yet, I have very little concept of why.

A meme in 99 parts

I've borrowed this list from Wyldwoods, whose interesting answers are in his post here. By all means, go ahead and fill this out yourself if you like.

Rules:

1. Everyone uses this same list of 99 Things.


2. Feel free to add editorial comments (mine are in square brackets).


3. Change the font of each item according to the legend below.


4. That's it! Simple, really.

Things I’ve already done: boldface
Things I want to do: italics
Things I haven’t done and don’t want to: plain text

99 Things

1. started your own blog [obviously]


2. slept under the stars [lots of tenting, but not open-air, yet]


3. played in a band [see here]


4. visited Hawaii


5. watched a meteor shower [the Perseids, among others]


6. given more than you can afford to charity


7. been to Disneyland/world [will probably happen, but I'm not enthusiastic]


8. climbed a mountain [Snowdon, in Wales; and also one in the Gaspé Peninsula]


9. held a praying mantis [seen one up close, though]


10. sang a solo [ugh; with the aforementioned band - audio evidence right here (mp3 format)]


11. bungee jumped [no thanks]


12. visited Paris [twice (once shown here), would happily go again]


13. watched a lightning storm at sea


14. taught yourself an art from scratch [digital fractals, among others]


15. adopted a child


16. had food poisoning


17. walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty


18. grown your own vegetables


19. seen the Mona Lisa in France [I've been in the lobby of the Louvre - that's as close as I got]


20. slept on an overnight train


21. had a pillow fight


22. hitch hiked [no thanks]


23. taken a sick day when you’re not ill [kind of depends on your definition of "ill"]


24. built a snow fort


25. held a lamb


26. gone skinny dipping [in the middle of the night, in a freezing cold lake in the Laurentian mountains]


27. run a marathon [again, no thanks]


28. ridden a gondola in Venice


29. seen a total eclipse


30. watched a sunrise or sunset [both; here's one]


31. hit a home run [will never happen, not enough upper body strength]


32. been on a cruise


33. seen Niagara Falls in person [a few times]


34. visited the birthplace of your ancestors [some of them, anyway]


35. seen an Amish community


36. taught yourself a new language [I'm assuming rudimentary html doesn't count]


37. had enough money to be truly satisfied [sad to say, will never happen]


38. seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person [yes please]


39. gone rock climbing [at Rattlesnake Point]


40. seen Michelangelo’s David in person


41. sung karaoke [not in a million, billion years, unless I'm rewarded by #37 above]


42. seen Old Faithful geyser erupt in person


43. bought a stranger a meal in a restaurant


44. visited Africa


45. walked on a beach by moonlight


46. been transported in an ambulance [no thanks, unless it's a better option than the available alternatives at the time]


47. had your portrait painted


48. gone deep sea fishing [for mackerel, in England]


49. seen the Sistine Chapel in person


50. been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris [didn't go all the way to the top either time I was there]


51. gone scuba diving or snorkeling


52. kissed in the rain [almost certainly, although I can't pinpoint a specific occasion]


53. played in the mud


54. gone to a drive-in theatre [the one near my childhood home has been replaced with a grocery store]


55. been in a movie [been on local TV though]


56. visited the Great Wall of China


57. started a business


58. taken a martial arts class


59. visited Russia


60. served at a soup kitchen


61. sold girl scout cookies [I'm hoping my daughter will take care of this one for me]


62. gone whale watching [yes, if dolphins, or watching from the shore, count]


63. gotten flowers for no reason


64. donated blood [many times]


65. gone sky diving [no thanks]


66. visited a Nazi concentration camp


67. bounced a cheque


68. flown in a helicopter


69. saved a favourite childhood toy


70. visited the Lincoln memorial


71. eaten caviar


72. pieced a quilt


73. stood in Times Square


74. toured the Everglades


75. been fired from a job [a summer job in high school; it sucked anyway]


76. seen the changing of the guard in London


77. broken a bone [not to my knowledge]


78. been on a speeding motorcycle [does a scooter count?]


79. seen the Grand Canyon in person


80. published a book [I co-published a poetry chapbook once, but it was self-funded, so hardly counts]


81. visited the Vatican


82. bought a brand new car [this one, and also this one; but not this one, unfortunately]


83. walked in Jerusalem


84. had your picture in the newspaper


85. read the entire Bible [I'm not religious, but it seems like something I should do out of interest]


86. visited the White House


87. killed and prepared an animal for eating


88. had chickenpox


89. saved someone’s life


90. sat on a jury [not yet, but I'm on the list]


91. met someone famous [two Nobel laureates, and a couple of minor actors and TV personalities]


92. joined a book club


93. lost a loved one


94. had a baby [twice, if being a father counts]


95. seen the Alamo in person


96. swum in the Great Salt Lake


97. been involved in a law suit


98. owned a cell phone [I was a late starter though; my first was one of these]


99. been stung by a bee [probably; wasps, certainly]

So that gives us totals of:



35 Things I have done

29 Things I would like to do

37 Things I have not done, and could do without.



Your turn, if you will.

Conversation over dinner

It's not exactly Susan Musgrave's Conversation During the Omelette aux Fines Herbes, but the dinnertime conversation around these parts occasionally has a satirical, if not epic, bent. Viz:

CONVERSATION OVER DINNER
A farce in one part

Place: Chateau Ricardipus, the dinner table

Time: evening

Cast of Characters:

• Ricardipus, a parent
• Junior Ricardipus #1, a seven-year-old boy
• Junior Ricardipus #2, a five-year-old girl
• Mrs. Ricardipus, kind of like a Greek Chorus I guess

The characters are arranged around the dinner table. As we join the action, JR2 is sticking her tongue out across the table in the general direction of JR1.

Ricardipus [firmly]:
If you stick out your tongue again, I'll pluck it out.

JR2 [disbelieving]:
How are you going to do that?

Ricardipus [confidently]:
I have magic Daddy powers.

JR1:
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Now that makes me laugh.

[beat]

[beat]


But not very hard.



---

His timing is perfect, I tell you.

2008 - with 100% more geekiness

Well, the New Year is upon us (hm, I suppose it's landed on most people east of here already), and, recovering from my slice of the Christmas Donut, I have a few seconds to reflect that I come by my science-geekery quite honestly.

A non sequitur, you say? Well, yes, but I have to exercise some sort of literary device in order to get me to the rather irrelevant observation that, upon visiting my parents this holiday season, I came across the following reprints from Scientific American, perched on their rather elegant bureau. Four articles, provocatively entitled:

1) Checks on Population Growth: 1850-1950,
2) The Tool-Sharing Behavior of Protohuman Hominids,
3) THE BLACK DEATH, [yes, the all caps are left sic]
and
4) The Ancestry of Corn.

Can you believe they read this stuff, for fun? And the source of these articles, of course, was my brother. There, the whole family's involved in one convoluted mess of scientific trivia, from the prehistoric through the medieval to the (almost) modern.

The sad bit is, I'm kind of interested in numbers 3 and 4 myself, and Mrs. Ricardipus would definitely read number 2. Sigh.

Now, off to read a much more sensible article that I have on hand, entitled Large-Scale Pyrosequencing of Synthetic DNA: a Comparison With Results From Sanger Dideoxy Sequencing. None of that dorky stuff from the parents' bureau here, oh no.

Happy New Year, everyone.

The things we do to amuse our children

A pair of swim goggles. Your gateway to hilarity.





The above antics prompted these comments:

Junior Ricardipus #1 (age 7):
"You look cool!"

Junior Ricardipus #2 (age 5)"
"I don't think you look good at all."

Junior Ricardipus #1 again:
"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE GOING TO PLAY GUITAR!!!"



Astute fellow, that boy. Spotted the closet rock star in his dad, no problem.

40

Well, it seems my little September the 19th mystery was either too obscure, or too boring, for a lot of people.

In case you missed it, and in case you care, the answer was "40". As in the title of the song. As in the difference between 2007 and 1967, the year Ricardipus started busting funky moves and making snide remarks. As in the reason it has become necessary to modify my profile so that it no longer reads "slightly under 40 blah blah blah".

Anyway, thanks to those who figured it out (with generous hinting). Oddly enough, it was Tilly who got it first - a blogger I remember hearing of years ago when I first started reading Zoe's blog, but whose blog I'd completely lost touch with. Hi, Tilly *waves*.

So, now that I'm officially Over The Hill™, I can look back on things and realize that my completely selfish and useless goal of owning an objectionably expensive and gas-guzzling sports car is likely never going to happen... shame really, 'cos they've got an awful lot of them for sale at this website I discovered. Or maybe I could borrow the shiny, red Ferrari F430 Spider, or its friend the white Lamborghini Gallardo, both of which reappeared transiently at the construction waste transfer dump a little ways away from here (I still suspect mob activity: expensive Italian sportscars and the construction and "disposal" industries... hmm. Maybe The Sopranos has been colouring my thinking. On second thought, I think I'd better not ask to borrow either one.)

Anyway, it should be clear by now that this new-found age of mine has done absolutely nothing to give me wisdom, clarity of thought, or new levels of eloquence, and as a result you end up with the same old bumf in this post. I'll just leave you with the following photo of a happy-go-lucky, 30-year-old Ricardipus surveying the wilds of North Wales, not considering for a single moment that his hopelessly muddied-up, colour-tweaked, posterized and otherwise violated countenance would end up posted on the internet as the coda to what has, by any method of measuring, turned out to be a really, really lame post-birthday post.

You know you're a parent if:

I've given up counting these.

You have ever tried to be a figure of authority while wearing your pyjamas.

Photos of the Figure of Authority™ (not wearing his pyjamas, so don't get your hopes up):

by Junior Ricardipus #1:

and by Junior Ricardipus #2:

Aha! A title, finally.

[Editorial note: the Blogger interface has decided, in its infinite wisdom, to stop me from entering a title. I click in the field, it does nothing. It's a little game we like to play.]

Yes, I know I'm late.

It all comes from being very, very busy you know. So busy that the standard disclaimer about poor quality of the following post is fully in force. So busy that on Sunday, what I should have been doing was working on any number of things - a grant application, some more consulting work, or even catching up on a personnel review or two. What I was doing, of course, was being a Valiant Prince Saving The Fair Princess, weilding a light saber, and clad in a very stylish black velvet sword belt with little gold studs, a Darth Vader cloak and a variety of silly hats. And riding about the basement on a large blue bouncer that I am reliably informed is named "Bouncy".

No, there aren't any photos.

Anyway, the Fair Princess in question was well and duly saved and that was the end of that, as well as pretty much being the end of any productive home-working time.

What there are photos of is the trip on Saturday to visit a whole whack of cousins (to whom I am technically not related at all) who were a) visiting from Scotland, b) staying in a rather nice rented house near a village in [Warning! The following URL has silly music!] Prince Edward County, and therefore c) over two hours' drive away. So the visit was nice, but completely wiped out any work-time I might have had on Saturday.

But there were lots of pretty flowers:



some mushrooms:



a rail fence:



and even some wildlife:



plus all of the aforementioned cousins. So we had a nice time, and I'm fairly sure that they think I'm only slightly demented for rushing about taking pictures of lawn furniture, ratty old fence rails and the neighbour's garden.

Ah well, it's what I do I suppose.

Now, off to work...

Namedropping

Once again, for lack of other interesting news in the life of Ricardipus, I throw out a totally unrelated subject for your interest/apathy/hostile reaction. Many of you have been asking: "Why the name 'Ricardipus'?"

[Editorial note: NOBODY has actually been asking this. It's a literary device to get me out of having nothing useful to say today. Unlike every other day, of course.]

I could have used the first letter of my first name, like Zoe uses Zed (U.S. based readers: much of the rest of the world calls the letter Z 'zed', not 'zee' - now you know) , but "ARRRR" is hardly very catchy, unless it's Talk Like A Pirate Day, the last instance of which, come to think of it, was also the 650th anniversary of the Battle of Poitiers. Dawn posts as 'Dawn', which is admittedly pretty tricky. I dare you to suggest that she do otherwise. Scaryduck chose his name for some complicated reason that you'll have to ask him to explain. Rik is Rik because Rik is Rik. QED.

So: 'Ricardipus', because:

1) It was the name of a Roman noble who was famous for mercilessly blogging (oops, I mean "flogging") his servants. [Note: this is almost certainly untrue.]

2) I was going to call the blog 'My Wife's Husband is a Twat', but it seemed a bit close to something that had been taken already.

3) 'Ricardipus' is the genus name of a rare flowering plant, Ricardipus mimulosa, which grows exclusively on the Oak Ridges Moraine, not a stone's throw from my home. [Note: this is also almost certainly untrue.]

4) I couldn't think of anything else.

5) I have previously been referred to as being a bit of a goof, and 'Ricardipus' is, you must admit, a pretty goofy handle.

or,

6) There is absolutely no good reason at all.

That should be an adequately unsatisfying answer, I think, for the two or three of you who asked.

Remember: once you name a thing, you can control it. Allegedly.

Lazy rip-off blogging

Ripping off this idea of Debi's, I scooted on over to myheritage.com and ran their clever Celebrity Look-Alike tool on a couple of recent snaps. And here are the results:



Hm. The Pope, Ben Stiller, and some gorgeous blonde woman whose name I don't remember.




Marilyn Manson, Yasmeen Ghauri, Jeff Goldblum, and some other gorgeous blonde woman whose name I also don't remember.

And not one, not two, but three instances of Patrick Swayze. I'm really unsure whether that's a good thing, or not.

EDIT: First panel: Ben Stiller, Jang Dong-gun (who?), Cindy Margolis (the woman in question), Patrick freakin' Swayze, Pope Paul VI, Marc Anthony, Bobby Charlton (woo yay!), Christian Slater. Second panel: Morten "I look like Patrick Swayze" Harket, Patrick ENOUGH ALREADY Swayze again, River Phoenix, Yasmeen Ghauri, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, Jeff Goldblum, Marilyn Manson, and that unidentified second blonde woman.

An update of the n things post from long ago

It seems that recent events mean that I really ought to update this post. Specifically:


I have traveled to only eight of Canada’s ten provinces, and none of the Territories.

Well, with the RAMPAGING SUCCESS OF THE EAST COAST BLOGMEET, this is no longer true. I have now traveled to nine provinces, although I confess I never set foot outside the airport in Province Number Nine. But I was cleared through Canadian Customs and made my way outside the secure area, where herself could come and meet me, so I was actually, technically, there.


I live only a few minutes from a very large amusement park, which I’ve never visited.

After this weekend, this is no longer true. Yes, at the ripe old age of *ahem*not-quite-forty, I finally got drawn into visiting this place. And it was quite fun, I have to admit, and not as crowded yet as it will doubtless become once the weather gets a bit hotter. I have to say, though, that I agree with Junior Ricardipus #1 that Scooby's Gasping Ghoster Coaster was a bit scary (not because of ghosts, but because it's a roller coaster. I believe a direct quote was something like "I don't like this very much!". JR#2, of course, went on it again.)

Those ones where you stand up and go round loop-the-loops: you will never get me on these. Not a chance.


There exist recordings of me playing synthesizers, piano, harmonica, electric, acoustic and bass guitar, and bongos.

OK, this hasn't changed recently, but ocarina and clarinet should be added to the list, as should drum machines.


I have two budgies that are older than my children.

Sadly, no longer true, as budgie #2 had to be put down earlier this year. At the ripe old age of 10-and-a-bit, and suffering from advanced kidney disease, it was time. Not at all a pleasant experience for any of us, but something that needed to be done.

Budgie #1, who is now pushing 11 years old, is still going strong. She's a bit more clingy than before, but otherwise seems to be holding up well in the absence of #1. Actually, they mostly just squabbled so maybe she's enjoying the quiet a bit. I think she misses him deep down, though.


As for the rest, I'd really like to do something about this one:

I have never been east of Paris, or west of Vancouver Island.


This one, on the other hand, I have absolutely no desire to update:

As far as I know, I have never broken a bone.

Spot the difference

Gosh, all those long blog posts have left me completely tired out. So instead, you get this "spot the difference" photo quiz à la Misty:

Answers in the comments box, please.

Hint: one of the two started its life as a screamingly funny attempt to impersonate a fish. Well, Junior Ricardipus #2 was amused, anyway.