tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62636305606735854832024-03-13T13:59:04.630-04:00Massahoma, OklachusettsA man from Oklahoma, a woman from Massachusetts, a boy from Oklachusetts, a new state of mind.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-7477513977994425952010-07-19T21:19:00.003-04:002010-07-19T21:30:02.704-04:00Donkeys, Peaches, and Subway Tiles<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7iXLOSHI/AAAAAAAAA0g/qu0Kra7aKc8/s1600/P1040838.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7iXLOSHI/AAAAAAAAA0g/qu0Kra7aKc8/s320/P1040838.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495794013054060658" /></a><br />It's hot in Oklahoma in the summer. <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7hlJcSbI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/E8nIoB-q7TU/s1600/P1040832.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7hlJcSbI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/E8nIoB-q7TU/s320/P1040832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793999624817074" /></a><br />Might as well go pick peaches. <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7Id3l4zI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/1v_OTP7zPgI/s1600/P1040813.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7Id3l4zI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/1v_OTP7zPgI/s320/P1040813.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793568174170930" /></a><br />Yummy!<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7Hyls6qI/AAAAAAAAA0I/hsQdpI-BF2c/s1600/P1040800.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7Hyls6qI/AAAAAAAAA0I/hsQdpI-BF2c/s320/P1040800.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793556556409506" /></a><br />Or go pet a baby miniature donkey.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7HXblMCI/AAAAAAAAA0A/_ypE52Ribtw/s1600/P1040796.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7HXblMCI/AAAAAAAAA0A/_ypE52Ribtw/s320/P1040796.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793549266202658" /></a><br />I want a baby miniature donkey. <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7GtOFm8I/AAAAAAAAAz4/umP0KVdm3yU/s1600/P1040785.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7GtOFm8I/AAAAAAAAAz4/umP0KVdm3yU/s320/P1040785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793537935317954" /></a><br />But best of all is cooling off in our new bathroom. <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7GMJwaSI/AAAAAAAAAzw/4WxMmI7VmXU/s1600/P1040777.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/TET7GMJwaSI/AAAAAAAAAzw/4WxMmI7VmXU/s320/P1040777.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495793529058781474" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-23880303086336748512010-03-21T12:19:00.004-04:002010-03-21T12:49:27.777-04:00Flurry<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM3NT_k0I/AAAAAAAAAzo/eVfFEOyeu-w/s1600-h/IMG00065-20100309-1628.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM3NT_k0I/AAAAAAAAAzo/eVfFEOyeu-w/s320/IMG00065-20100309-1628.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451128910328599362" /></a><br />Life happens. Storms happen. Raised planters get built, radish seeds and collard seedlings get planted, snow falls, kids get sick, parents worry about their kids and their seeds and seedlings they planted. Nasty garages get cleaned out. Parents get sick, city leaders debate where to put convention centers, basketball tournaments come to town. Companies build skyscrapers, other companies make plans to raze historic buildings, people get upset, Downtown Design Review Committees ask to take tours of these buildings, people get slightly less upset. Downtowns are the object of obsession and pride. People do their taxes and look forward to receiving first-time homebuyer tax refunds. First-time homebuyers who get huge refunds make plans to remodel master bathrooms. Kids go to the openings of Children's Zoos. It is nearly always better to be a parakeet in a Children's Zoo than a goat, which nearly always look terrified. To walk is nearly always better than to drive. Declarations like this keep people honest. Honesty is a wonderful thing. Wonder is a wonderful thing. Bloggers stay away far longer than they intended, then return to make a flurry of generalizations. <br /><br />Here's what I mean: <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL2efOKzI/AAAAAAAAAy4/csXnfYOAMB4/s1600-h/P1040159.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL2efOKzI/AAAAAAAAAy4/csXnfYOAMB4/s320/P1040159.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451127798247598898" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM2CPKZmI/AAAAAAAAAzY/4LW85WjODfc/s1600-h/P1040163.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM2CPKZmI/AAAAAAAAAzY/4LW85WjODfc/s320/P1040163.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451128890175678050" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL2hUd2zI/AAAAAAAAAzA/5o_C8YBkU94/s1600-h/P1040161.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL2hUd2zI/AAAAAAAAAzA/5o_C8YBkU94/s320/P1040161.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451127799007796018" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL3BF38UI/AAAAAAAAAzI/Sp7JrkdC-Qc/s1600-h/P1040162.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL3BF38UI/AAAAAAAAAzI/Sp7JrkdC-Qc/s320/P1040162.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451127807536525634" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL3vEGRiI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/EedJS1Ue0SY/s1600-h/P1040169.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL3vEGRiI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/EedJS1Ue0SY/s320/P1040169.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451127819877107234" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL1ibGPpI/AAAAAAAAAyw/dIGhLGPgME4/s1600-h/P1040109.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZL1ibGPpI/AAAAAAAAAyw/dIGhLGPgME4/s320/P1040109.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451127782124174994" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM2rjg_FI/AAAAAAAAAzg/va90t8cSOo8/s1600-h/P1040177.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S6ZM2rjg_FI/AAAAAAAAAzg/va90t8cSOo8/s320/P1040177.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451128901266898002" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-74443010367922619542010-01-29T09:33:00.002-05:002010-01-29T09:43:03.561-05:00Ice Storm<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S2Lz6iMaekI/AAAAAAAAAyc/aIwa6l8lBLQ/s1600-h/icestorm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S2Lz6iMaekI/AAAAAAAAAyc/aIwa6l8lBLQ/s320/icestorm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432172287499074114" /></a><br />An ice storm has immobilized Oklahoma City. There is a quarter-inch of ice on each little branch and twig outside, a condition which Emily tells me is beneficial to trees because the ice acts as a blanket. It's cold outside, but we're warm inside. <br /><br />In other news, OKC got a huge shout-out in The New York Times on Tuesday. Check it out: <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/27/realestate/commercial/27devon.html">http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/27/realestate/commercial/27devon.html</a>.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-32575198403590968022010-01-17T08:50:00.002-05:002010-01-17T09:12:07.494-05:00Science is Fun<OBJECT class=BLOG_video_class id=BLOG_video-a2fb2dbb07bb958e height=266 width=320 contentId="a2fb2dbb07bb958e"></OBJECT><br /><br />On a rainy, cold day in the Bible Belt we took Emmett to learn about science. Here he is seeing Bernouli's Principle being demonstrated. As you can clearly see in this video, Emmett interrupts the flow of air around the ball when he thrusts his hand into the air stream, thus disturbing the upwards lift force causing the ball to float in air. Next up: Venturi Effect, Torricelli's Law, and of course the Reynolds Number. (Thank you, Wikipedia).Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-25020868696008125882010-01-14T21:50:00.002-05:002010-01-14T21:54:45.018-05:00Emmett Is Officially a WalkerFYI.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-4056492860206161112010-01-07T08:02:00.006-05:002010-01-07T08:42:17.356-05:00The Incredible Adventures of Emmett in OklahomaHi, everyone. You wouldn't believe what I've been up to here in Oklahoma. Things have been moving pretty fast around here. Sometimes things seem like a blur. Other times they seem to move really slow. My favorite album is Vampire Weekend's debut effort. I like to dance to it. The picture below is from Christmas Eve, the night of the famous blizzard of '09.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xiu5FJYYI/AAAAAAAAAyU/Y4b8EPYeHxw/s1600-h/P1030757.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990621461897602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xiu5FJYYI/AAAAAAAAAyU/Y4b8EPYeHxw/s320/P1030757.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here are two pictures of me and Mama and Papa in the Blizzard. I like how our house looks in the background.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XiufDbqGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/-1MZotKEiQU/s1600-h/P1030729.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990614475384930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XiufDbqGI/AAAAAAAAAyM/-1MZotKEiQU/s320/P1030729.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XiuEGmC3I/AAAAAAAAAyE/ul5Ft4VQ2Ck/s1600-h/em%26chad_snow.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990607240891250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XiuEGmC3I/AAAAAAAAAyE/ul5Ft4VQ2Ck/s320/em%26chad_snow.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I learned how to play the piano. Here I am performing a duet with my cousin Josiah.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xic_icNBI/AAAAAAAAAx8/OzQoMyyJAwQ/s1600-h/em%26jo_piano.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990313957733394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xic_icNBI/AAAAAAAAAx8/OzQoMyyJAwQ/s320/em%26jo_piano.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />That Josiah. What a guy!<br /></div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xict5AP3I/AAAAAAAAAx0/lC4eh5xwE-Y/s1600-h/P1030822.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990309220532082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xict5AP3I/AAAAAAAAAx0/lC4eh5xwE-Y/s320/P1030822.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Uncle Dale! World's best babysitter!<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XicbqIQRI/AAAAAAAAAxs/GrfNhk1h8Ok/s1600-h/P1030597.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990304326304018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XicbqIQRI/AAAAAAAAAxs/GrfNhk1h8Ok/s320/P1030597.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We went on a hike in the woods. I really like birdies.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XicBL9mUI/AAAAAAAAAxk/_jReMYqXcrY/s1600-h/P1030560.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990297220454722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XicBL9mUI/AAAAAAAAAxk/_jReMYqXcrY/s320/P1030560.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I saw some pretty horsies and got a far away look in my eyes.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xib3XizzI/AAAAAAAAAxc/4zSS2VIslsM/s1600-h/P1030557.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423990294584676146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xib3XizzI/AAAAAAAAAxc/4zSS2VIslsM/s320/P1030557.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I met a fat guy in a red suit and didn't know what to think. </div><div><br /> </div><div> </div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xh0b9IKpI/AAAAAAAAAxU/eUsaziwewAM/s1600-h/P1030536.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423989617211222674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xh0b9IKpI/AAAAAAAAAxU/eUsaziwewAM/s320/P1030536.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We planted a tree inside our living room. I also learned how to work this sphere thing.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xh0I_QEPI/AAAAAAAAAxM/o2hG80mdhg0/s1600-h/P1030489.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423989612119855346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0Xh0I_QEPI/AAAAAAAAAxM/o2hG80mdhg0/s320/P1030489.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I learned how to play the guitar, too.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XhzpTczbI/AAAAAAAAAxE/2diZaheHDHU/s1600-h/P1030442.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423989603614641586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XhzpTczbI/AAAAAAAAAxE/2diZaheHDHU/s320/P1030442.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>But perhaps most importanty, I turned one!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423989596759966066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XhzPxKwXI/AAAAAAAAAw0/82yh2lbpyxo/s320/P1030240.JPG" border="0" /><br />Gosh, that was already two months ago. I am fourteen months old today. Life is great so far.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XhzTOOJOI/AAAAAAAAAw8/ZBQZdD8MSbQ/s1600-h/P1030247.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423989597687129314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/S0XhzTOOJOI/AAAAAAAAAw8/ZBQZdD8MSbQ/s320/P1030247.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-1657170805548543842009-12-01T07:27:00.004-05:002009-12-01T07:56:57.256-05:00Built-In ObsolescenceReading the New York Times this morning, I came across a few articles that spoke to a condition most of us have to put up with these days: obsolescence. The idea that all things, sooner or later (though probably sooner), becoming obsolete.<br /><br /><a href="http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/11/30/showcase-85/?hp">Look at Dubai</a>. It turns out that until Dubai's recent debt trouble, homes that had been constructed a mere 3 to 5 years ago were routinely being torn down to accomodate newer projects. The city of Dubai reminds me of Shelley's famous sonnet "Ozymandias":<br /><br />I met a traveller from an antique land<br />Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone<br />Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,<br />Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown<br />And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command<br />Tell that its sculptor well those passions read<br />Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,<br />The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.<br />And on the pedestal these words appear:<br />`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:<br />Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'<br />Nothing beside remains. Round the decay<br />Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,<br />The lone and level sands stretch far away".<br /><br />Dubai is fast becoming such a "colossal wreck, boundless and bare" perhaps because it was built to be replaced. Built-in obsolescence.<br /><br />That's why I took great pleasure reading about <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/01/books/01typewriter.html?_r=1&hp">Cormac McCarthy's Olivetti typewriter up for auction</a>. McCarthy, one of our most celebrated novelists, wrote nearly all of his novels, including three unpublished ones, over a span of fifty years on this humble machine. What writer today will accomplish such a feat on his or her laptop? I purchased my computer in 2005 and it's a dinosaur. I give it another 6 months before it goes belly-up.<br /><br />Now, undoubtedly great literature gets produced on laptops and maybe even on handheld devices, too. But to read that McCarthy has written his masterpieces on a single, solid, sturdy, mechanical machine that has lived on and on is an inspiration. His novels mourn the obsolescences around us, acting as a chorus to question the values of a society that eventually destroys everything it builds.<br /><br />For fifty years at least, McCarthy showed it was possible to buck this trend. And his novels, unlike Dubai or Ozymandias's ruins or even the Olivetti typewriter itself, stand the true test of time.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-48568239381902637842009-11-03T20:36:00.007-05:002009-11-03T21:18:47.033-05:00The Evolution of a Front Yard<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcwfBbmLI/AAAAAAAAAvo/tn3aCqZzLn0/s1600-h/P1020551.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400058678736558258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcwfBbmLI/AAAAAAAAAvo/tn3aCqZzLn0/s320/P1020551.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is what the front yard used to look like--that is, after we tore out a gross, old, uneven, narrow, dangerous brick sidewalk.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbRJqc8UI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/nKIcPxcqM2g/s1600-h/P1020958.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057040915460418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbRJqc8UI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/nKIcPxcqM2g/s320/P1020958.JPG" border="0" /></a> Then we hired some dudes to bust up the concrete walk. We rocked the no-grass, no-walk look for a while, including during the Heritage Hills Home and Garden Tour. It was kinda embarrasing.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbR_b1oLI/AAAAAAAAAug/dAdSYQVQ2lI/s1600-h/P1030056.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057055349678258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbR_b1oLI/AAAAAAAAAug/dAdSYQVQ2lI/s320/P1030056.JPG" border="0" /></a> But last week, on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights from 9 to 11 p.m., I went outside and dug this trench. Don't ask me why I did it like that. I have homeowner fever. I'm nuts.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbSAfkByI/AAAAAAAAAuo/ENYoL1TWQrs/s1600-h/P1030059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057055633737506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbSAfkByI/AAAAAAAAAuo/ENYoL1TWQrs/s320/P1030059.JPG" border="0" /></a> When the hole was dug, we ordered a ton and a half of crushed limestone. Can you believe this is a ton and a half? Me neither. Will it be enough?<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbStJvQyI/AAAAAAAAAuw/nIK_GFU6OZE/s1600-h/P1030060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057067621794594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDbStJvQyI/AAAAAAAAAuw/nIK_GFU6OZE/s320/P1030060.JPG" border="0" /></a> Hell yes, it will! Look at Emily spreading it like a champ.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb5u9mfJI/AAAAAAAAAu4/oCK0N_UTfE8/s1600-h/P1030065.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057738122656914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb5u9mfJI/AAAAAAAAAu4/oCK0N_UTfE8/s320/P1030065.JPG" border="0" /></a> Then I came and tamped it all down. Memories of taking care of my high school's baseball mound. I was the starting pitcher and it was my responsibility. We had a nice mound.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6IL-CQI/AAAAAAAAAvA/3bS8QJPkykw/s1600-h/P1030064.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057744893806850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6IL-CQI/AAAAAAAAAvA/3bS8QJPkykw/s320/P1030064.JPG" border="0" /></a> Emily was the walk's chief designer. She decided on a herringbone pattern. Very glad she did. She also laid the whole walk. Except for a stretch when our second cousins (aged 14 and 11) came over and we put them to work. Nothing like child labor.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6R6-oUI/AAAAAAAAAvI/RoArVLMe92g/s1600-h/P1030066.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057747506897218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6R6-oUI/AAAAAAAAAvI/RoArVLMe92g/s320/P1030066.JPG" border="0" /></a> Speaking of child labor...just kidding.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6h1D-WI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/j7xXr0R20XA/s1600-h/P1030071.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057751777048930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb6h1D-WI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/j7xXr0R20XA/s320/P1030071.JPG" border="0" /></a> Ignore the camera strap and focus on the attitude. Manual labor is fun.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb7L2JrMI/AAAAAAAAAvY/LGStoX3UuCM/s1600-h/P1030078.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400057763055905986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDb7L2JrMI/AAAAAAAAAvY/LGStoX3UuCM/s320/P1030078.JPG" border="0" /></a>Making progress!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcxlGawkI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rldkD4xOxIk/s1600-h/P1030085.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400058697547956802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcxlGawkI/AAAAAAAAAwA/rldkD4xOxIk/s320/P1030085.JPG" border="0" /></a> Finished! Except for the irregular pieces. We had to buy an angle grinder to do that.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcv0pnIII/AAAAAAAAAvg/FJ8NppIwzp4/s1600-h/P1020594.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400058667362361474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcv0pnIII/AAAAAAAAAvg/FJ8NppIwzp4/s320/P1020594.JPG" border="0" /></a> Oh, and where did we get all these bricks? We didn't purchase a single one. No, instead we salvaged them from our property. They came from the old brick walk in front and from a brick patio in back.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcxLGFsOI/AAAAAAAAAv4/I8bxYmTlDRE/s1600-h/P1030167.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400058690567254242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcxLGFsOI/AAAAAAAAAv4/I8bxYmTlDRE/s320/P1030167.JPG" border="0" /></a> Some of the bricks are older than the state of Oklahoma. This one was made in the town of Chandler. "O.T" stands for "Oklahoma Territory." How cool is that?! Again, ignore the damn camera strap.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcwoDMXKI/AAAAAAAAAvw/HydGRT5R3ZM/s1600-h/P1030083.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400058681159867554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDcwoDMXKI/AAAAAAAAAvw/HydGRT5R3ZM/s320/P1030083.JPG" border="0" /></a> A lot of interesting bricks here.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfiC07xDI/AAAAAAAAAwI/vhJyD15EVqo/s1600-h/P1030168.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400061729184662578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfiC07xDI/AAAAAAAAAwI/vhJyD15EVqo/s320/P1030168.JPG" border="0" /></a> But wait...there's more! We landscaped, too!<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfi-m7pFI/AAAAAAAAAwY/v_R5w0m71r8/s1600-h/P1030163.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400061745232061522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfi-m7pFI/AAAAAAAAAwY/v_R5w0m71r8/s320/P1030163.JPG" border="0" /></a> We put a dogwood tree in the backyard...<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfiaUd5nI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/mSQKmA40v0M/s1600-h/P1030181.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400061735490938482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfiaUd5nI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/mSQKmA40v0M/s320/P1030181.JPG" border="0" /></a> ...and watered all the plants, shrubs, and trees we put in the front.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfjBH_v5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/55hBVE-acPA/s1600-h/P1030176.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400061745907613586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfjBH_v5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/55hBVE-acPA/s320/P1030176.JPG" border="0" /></a> Tada! We did this in one weekend. Two full days of work. Boy, were we tired.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfjpDmRpI/AAAAAAAAAwo/vLCIMvA2kug/s1600-h/P1030193.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400061756626585234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvDfjpDmRpI/AAAAAAAAAwo/vLCIMvA2kug/s320/P1030193.JPG" border="0" /></a> But we are happy. The end.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-90823819282486640272009-11-03T07:32:00.003-05:002009-11-03T07:36:16.116-05:00Halloween Special: Surf and Turf<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvAjQc4gcZI/AAAAAAAAAuI/K38Z7kqyDIM/s1600-h/P1030131.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvAjQc4gcZI/AAAAAAAAAuI/K38Z7kqyDIM/s320/P1030131.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399854718755303826" /></a><br />Surf: Emmett "Lobster" Reynolds, born in Boston. <br /><br />Turf: Josiah "Moo Cow" Daniel, born in Oklahoma City. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvAjQCb8imI/AAAAAAAAAuA/zsIz4ainneU/s1600-h/P1030110.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SvAjQCb8imI/AAAAAAAAAuA/zsIz4ainneU/s320/P1030110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399854711656188514" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-25167849780133519172009-10-10T10:13:00.004-04:002009-10-10T10:24:37.659-04:00OKC House After (Though Not Completely After)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY7CjMICI/AAAAAAAAAt4/FCp4QGdfpV8/s1600-h/P1020965.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY7CjMICI/AAAAAAAAAt4/FCp4QGdfpV8/s320/P1020965.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976894026653730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY6iTJvrI/AAAAAAAAAtw/PybMqXSNPtw/s1600-h/P1020901.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY6iTJvrI/AAAAAAAAAtw/PybMqXSNPtw/s320/P1020901.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976885369454258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY6EzLIyI/AAAAAAAAAto/lpFLYvZHtVQ/s1600-h/P1020902.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY6EzLIyI/AAAAAAAAAto/lpFLYvZHtVQ/s320/P1020902.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976877450699554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY5ja9scI/AAAAAAAAAtg/b4Inv1J_Js8/s1600-h/P1020891.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY5ja9scI/AAAAAAAAAtg/b4Inv1J_Js8/s320/P1020891.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976868490785218" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY5f6zi9I/AAAAAAAAAtY/gjd1h_uSKEU/s1600-h/P1020986.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCY5f6zi9I/AAAAAAAAAtY/gjd1h_uSKEU/s320/P1020986.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390976867550596050" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYBdYs0-I/AAAAAAAAAtQ/0a3OyDFNlWQ/s1600-h/P1020898.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYBdYs0-I/AAAAAAAAAtQ/0a3OyDFNlWQ/s320/P1020898.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975904798004194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYBC85N2I/AAAAAAAAAtI/oD8ikqVy4Hc/s1600-h/P1020892.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYBC85N2I/AAAAAAAAAtI/oD8ikqVy4Hc/s320/P1020892.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975897702053730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYAcfOYMI/AAAAAAAAAtA/9EJAucmd6Rg/s1600-h/P1020906.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYAcfOYMI/AAAAAAAAAtA/9EJAucmd6Rg/s320/P1020906.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975887377064130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYAO3rnbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/4FSwzCCHyU0/s1600-h/P1020926.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCYAO3rnbI/AAAAAAAAAs4/4FSwzCCHyU0/s320/P1020926.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975883721547186" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCX_v2qrfI/AAAAAAAAAsw/TrHi9Pa6v_8/s1600-h/P1020925.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCX_v2qrfI/AAAAAAAAAsw/TrHi9Pa6v_8/s320/P1020925.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975875395792370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXUchoLZI/AAAAAAAAAso/phYmA-x-CeM/s1600-h/P1020924.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXUchoLZI/AAAAAAAAAso/phYmA-x-CeM/s320/P1020924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975131472899474" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXTy9X9eI/AAAAAAAAAsg/smV8jAKQz-0/s1600-h/P1020932.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXTy9X9eI/AAAAAAAAAsg/smV8jAKQz-0/s320/P1020932.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975120314988002" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXTXzdgyI/AAAAAAAAAsY/Uy8GKQzLWXQ/s1600-h/P1020950.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXTXzdgyI/AAAAAAAAAsY/Uy8GKQzLWXQ/s320/P1020950.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975113025651490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXS1bEJ8I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/QKqj3mt4Oy8/s1600-h/P1020946.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXS1bEJ8I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/QKqj3mt4Oy8/s320/P1020946.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975103796520898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXScsDVbI/AAAAAAAAAsI/nbj_ljGbNrs/s1600-h/P1020952.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCXScsDVbI/AAAAAAAAAsI/nbj_ljGbNrs/s320/P1020952.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390975097156883890" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-26355174209333484812009-10-10T10:03:00.005-04:002009-10-10T10:13:08.002-04:00OKC House Before<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWJTUfUzI/AAAAAAAAAsA/ozxoZiLIeps/s1600-h/front_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWJTUfUzI/AAAAAAAAAsA/ozxoZiLIeps/s320/front_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973840511685426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWItMw83I/AAAAAAAAAr4/MHpSFOFxe6U/s1600-h/living+room_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWItMw83I/AAAAAAAAAr4/MHpSFOFxe6U/s320/living+room_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973830278738802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWIOdU1mI/AAAAAAAAArw/YHhpoqW3Hjo/s1600-h/front+windows_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWIOdU1mI/AAAAAAAAArw/YHhpoqW3Hjo/s320/front+windows_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973822026700386" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWH6hDNVI/AAAAAAAAAro/uWvnJvNR5Z8/s1600-h/sitting+room_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCWH6hDNVI/AAAAAAAAAro/uWvnJvNR5Z8/s320/sitting+room_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973816673613138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVhUp245I/AAAAAAAAArg/0cF0880v6xA/s1600-h/master+bedroom_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVhUp245I/AAAAAAAAArg/0cF0880v6xA/s320/master+bedroom_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973153674978194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVg7BHufI/AAAAAAAAArY/vRETN4ynhmo/s1600-h/emmett+room_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVg7BHufI/AAAAAAAAArY/vRETN4ynhmo/s320/emmett+room_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973146793228786" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVgW56kSI/AAAAAAAAArQ/-XWKR4O0Lvg/s1600-h/bathroom_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVgW56kSI/AAAAAAAAArQ/-XWKR4O0Lvg/s320/bathroom_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973137099329826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVf8U9i2I/AAAAAAAAArI/W_eCUe0XMPk/s1600-h/dining+room_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVf8U9i2I/AAAAAAAAArI/W_eCUe0XMPk/s320/dining+room_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973129965013858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVfeCLIpI/AAAAAAAAArA/miHbe_O1cZ4/s1600-h/kitchen+3_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCVfeCLIpI/AAAAAAAAArA/miHbe_O1cZ4/s320/kitchen+3_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390973121833149074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU7a-u2SI/AAAAAAAAAq4/DReFiHB7CGY/s1600-h/kitchen+2_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU7a-u2SI/AAAAAAAAAq4/DReFiHB7CGY/s320/kitchen+2_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390972502538115362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6w2I8jI/AAAAAAAAAqw/daUKyoMifi8/s1600-h/kitchen_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6w2I8jI/AAAAAAAAAqw/daUKyoMifi8/s320/kitchen_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390972491227787826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6X5h7dI/AAAAAAAAAqo/Y32g2cDJN64/s1600-h/built+in_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6X5h7dI/AAAAAAAAAqo/Y32g2cDJN64/s320/built+in_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390972484531121618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6A82XjI/AAAAAAAAAqg/-_DeViXhLxY/s1600-h/back+of+house_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU6A82XjI/AAAAAAAAAqg/-_DeViXhLxY/s320/back+of+house_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390972478371028530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU5hszAII/AAAAAAAAAqY/z1qW3hHE1lY/s1600-h/backyard_before.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCU5hszAII/AAAAAAAAAqY/z1qW3hHE1lY/s320/backyard_before.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390972469982199938" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-6336792129675645492009-10-10T09:33:00.004-04:002009-10-10T10:02:59.430-04:00Dan and KeiraI'm back in Boston this weekend after two intense weeks in Hartford for work. We're on the East Coast for another week and half, and in that time we have big plans, and none bigger than attending <a href="http://danandkeira.nearlyweds.com/blogs/index/">Dan and Keira's wedding</a>. But I'll be more than attending...I'll be officiating! Yes, Dan and Keira asked me to officiate (or "solemnize," if you want to get technical) their wedding, and I am honored to do it. After all, I did introduce them! Click on the link above and then check me out in the "Wedding Entourage" page.<br /><br />Dan and Keira at the Beach:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCTsSd0TMI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/PK-fxX7iLOY/s1600-h/Dan+and+Keira+at+the+Beach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 144px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/StCTsSd0TMI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/PK-fxX7iLOY/s320/Dan+and+Keira+at+the+Beach.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390971143042911426" /></a><br /><br />In other news, we miss our new home. We can't stop thinking of all the fun things we want to do to it. As promised in a previous post, I have some "before and after" photos for you. Wait and see the difference.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-31974698037870912452009-09-24T22:08:00.004-04:002009-09-24T22:24:57.664-04:00Our 101st PostRather than talk about how cool it is that the <a href="http://www.yesformaps.com/">MAPS 3 proposal </a>contains plans for a streetcar (yes!), and rather than mention how cool it would be if (assuming it passes in the December vote) OKC hires <a href="http://www.unitedstreetcar.com/">United Streetcar </a>(the first American manufacturer of streetcars in 58 years) to build them, and instead of talking about how nice it is that the MAPS 3 plan includes a big central park and plans to finish bikes trails and sidewalks across the city, and even though I'd love to talk how the sun is out after three weeks of rain, or how we're heading to the East Coast for three weeks tomorrow (so Emily and Emmett can visit her folks and so I can attend a program in Hartford, CT), I think I'll stop rambling in this, our 101st post on Oklachusetts, and just give the people what they want: Mr. Emmett!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoTiZwApI/AAAAAAAAApI/7Mu_CBcXkI4/s1600-h/P1020576.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoTiZwApI/AAAAAAAAApI/7Mu_CBcXkI4/s320/P1020576.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385223570545705618" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoTPKc-gI/AAAAAAAAApA/4QkV6D-DuqU/s1600-h/P1020604.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoTPKc-gI/AAAAAAAAApA/4QkV6D-DuqU/s320/P1020604.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385223565381270018" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoSkrZ6iI/AAAAAAAAAo4/uHMpVRMRCp8/s1600-h/P1020627.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwoSkrZ6iI/AAAAAAAAAo4/uHMpVRMRCp8/s320/P1020627.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385223553976756770" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Srwnp7rRPuI/AAAAAAAAAow/c7Nsto_99Vc/s1600-h/P1020672.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Srwnp7rRPuI/AAAAAAAAAow/c7Nsto_99Vc/s320/P1020672.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385222855775567586" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnpTx4h-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/P__cb-4RwaY/s1600-h/P1020697.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnpTx4h-I/AAAAAAAAAoo/P__cb-4RwaY/s320/P1020697.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385222845065889762" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnpC0WhSI/AAAAAAAAAog/kIg59BbXj-g/s1600-h/P1020742.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnpC0WhSI/AAAAAAAAAog/kIg59BbXj-g/s320/P1020742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385222840512840994" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Srwnoo-rTVI/AAAAAAAAAoY/csVM7zQubD8/s1600-h/P1020857.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Srwnoo-rTVI/AAAAAAAAAoY/csVM7zQubD8/s320/P1020857.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385222833576824146" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnoCMqADI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/pnfiEwWGylk/s1600-h/P1020864.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SrwnoCMqADI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/pnfiEwWGylk/s320/P1020864.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385222823166476338" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-33618024440306296012009-08-30T07:46:00.007-04:002009-08-30T11:02:43.962-04:00August in OklahomaI apologize for the more-than-month intermission between posts. Oklahoma City has been hot and rainy, and until about a week and a half ago, we didn't have Internet access. Moving into a house built in 1919 and living for a month without phone, cable, or Internet is like traveling back in time. Of course if we had traveled back in time, our home would have been much newer, the floorboards would have creaked much less than they do now, there wouldn't have been a jungle to be tamed in the back and front yards, and presumably we wouldn't have had to spend a whole afternoon ripping up a poorly laid brick walkway or two days painting over a rancid shade of mustard yellow on our bedroom walls. We're planning a big "Before and After" photospread, so stay tuned. Of course, the "after" part of that spread should really be called "now," as in "Before and Now." "After" connotes finality, as in our work here is done, which it patently is not. We'll be working on this house for years and years. Nonetheless, we've accomplished a whole lot. You'll see. <br /><br />In the meantime, some observations and a small collection of photos. <br /><br />Working on a historic home is much like restoring a city slowly hollowed out by the forces of suburbanization. Our old home has 37 windows--9 in our bedroom alone. But only one of these 37 windows is in working order. The rest have been painted and caulked shut for years and years and years. Why? Because when air conditioning became available and affordable in the 1960s, people thought they'd never have to use their windows again. Honestly. They assumed that having cold air reliably blast through floor and ceiling vents to create a controlled climate would be an improvement over the transom window system, whereby during the night you open the top and bottom windows to simultaneously draw in cool air and let out hot air, and during the day you close the windows to trap in the coolness. Not the best way to cool a house, admittedly. Assuredly, HVAC works better, infinitely so. No amount of adverbs can qualify that statement enough. AC works exponentially better. <br /><br />But is this any reason to destroy the functionality of windows? I mean, isn't one of the true pleasures in life lying in bed at night while a breeze drifts in through an open window? Couldn't they have just left a few windows in each room uncaulked? Why let newer technologies be the ruination of certain older ones that, though outdated, still retain some usefulness? It seems like the two ought to have found a way to coexist. Right? <br /><br />Well I found a cruel answer to that complaint in the attic, where I discovered that that a PVC drain pipe for the HVAC unit had been fed, rather violently, into our cast iron sewage pipe by some thoughtless technician years ago. He had to find a way to drain the condensation created by the unit, and so he took a hammer and chisel and punched a gigantic hole into the iron drain pipe and stuffed his little PVC thingie in there, and voila! No condensation! (Nevermind that giant hole.) <br /><br />Something like this happened to Oklahoma City. The streetcars were ripped up and replaced by buses that didn't run on time; downtown residents fled to the suburbs; and even though the suburbs lacked the foot traffic of the old neighborhoods, retailers fled downtown when the winds of urban renewal ripped up Main Street to build a galleria mall that never got built. In the name of improvement, of progress, the city suffered one blow after the other--the city regressed--until Mayor Ron Norick drew the line in the sand and put together MAPS I to restore the lifeblood to our city. That was 20 years ago. And look at this! We've moved to an old neighborhood that's 8 blocks away from my new job. I walk to work (on the days it doesn't rain) and on my walk I pass beautiful old homes that are a testament to good design and smart neighborhood planning. I miss Boston, but I'm glad to be back. <br /><br />Some photos from the past month: <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu8iKK5dI/AAAAAAAAAoI/LgSUVHfuoGg/s1600-h/built-in+cabinet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu8iKK5dI/AAAAAAAAAoI/LgSUVHfuoGg/s320/built-in+cabinet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375731091460777426" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu8L-Y8UI/AAAAAAAAAoA/5N-6C_z5_fc/s1600-h/getting+rid+of+the+red.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu8L-Y8UI/AAAAAAAAAoA/5N-6C_z5_fc/s320/getting+rid+of+the+red.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375731085505786178" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu74aRLAI/AAAAAAAAAn4/4B3vbMVSa0g/s1600-h/swimming+emmett.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppu74aRLAI/AAAAAAAAAn4/4B3vbMVSa0g/s320/swimming+emmett.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375731080254008322" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppuh4ux0PI/AAAAAAAAAno/NvcUnDiD2iw/s1600-h/trash+bags.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppuh4ux0PI/AAAAAAAAAno/NvcUnDiD2iw/s320/trash+bags.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375730633663434994" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SppuhaUWKVI/AAAAAAAAAng/BiAm0hE4W14/s1600-h/sleeping+emmett.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SppuhaUWKVI/AAAAAAAAAng/BiAm0hE4W14/s320/sleeping+emmett.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375730625499507026" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppug8jjwOI/AAAAAAAAAnY/LjpRTuEXDZA/s1600-h/memorial.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppug8jjwOI/AAAAAAAAAnY/LjpRTuEXDZA/s320/memorial.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375730617510248674" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppugdp1RUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/Y4vZ1lmn85M/s1600-h/emmett+and+josiah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sppugdp1RUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/Y4vZ1lmn85M/s320/emmett+and+josiah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375730609215063362" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-14700002993825739592009-07-17T09:38:00.002-04:002009-07-17T10:12:46.440-04:00My First Full Day in OklahomaYesterday was my first full day in Oklahoma. It was full of excitement and adventure. I began my cross-country road trip in Boston on Tuesday morning and made it as far as Cleveland, OH, where I picked up my dad, who had flown in from a business trip in New Jersey. We were on the road at 5:45 a.m. Wednesday, and fourteen hours later, we pulled into our lake house in Ketchum, OK. We slept late the next day and were back on the road by 9 a.m. We cruised into Oklahoma City at noon on Thursday, July 16. We had covered 1700 miles in two days and four hours. <br /><br />Highlights from the road trip include: listening to Kerouac's <em>On the Road </em>while being, um, on the road (I had forgotten what Sal Paradise says about Dean Moriarty: "My first impression of Dean was of a young Gene Autry-trim, thin-hipped, blue-eyed, with a real Oklahoma accent-a sideburned hero of the snowy West"); picking up my dad in Cleveland; seeing the sunrise over Lake Erie; realizing that my Rand McNally Road Atlas says that my new neighborhood is the "Don't Miss Drive" for Oklahoma City; trying to guess the population, square mileage, and capitals of each state; forgetting that Pierre is the capital of South Dakota. <br /><br />My first full day in Oklahoma consisted of the following: eating sushi with my sister and nephew; opening up a bank account in a bank that looks like a space ship; going on a final walk-through of the house that will soon be our first house to own; getting caught in a flash hail storm; having to wait out the storm under a gas station awning with 50 other cars; braving the suddenly flooded streets on the way back to the bank for a cashier's check; discovering that the bank's power had been knocked out by the storm; going to the bank branch inside the Super Wal-Mart; getting a very large cashier's check from a Wal-Mart bank branch; running into an old friend buying dry ice at the Wal-Mart; fried okra for dinner; checking my email after three days of being away; learning that <a href="http://newsok.com/streetcar-plan-may-open-downtown-transit-route/article/3385109?custom_click=rss">Steve Lackmeyer had finally written a story about Jeff Bezdek's streetcar proposal</a> for OKC; missing my wife and son, who fly out on Monday. <br /><br />I retired to bed at 10 o'clock and found an old copy of E.M. Forster's <em>Howards End </em>on my old bookshelf. The first two sentences struck me as apropos of my new life here: "It isn't going to be what we expected. It is old and little, and altogether delightful." <br /><br />Today we close on the house. Pictures forthcoming.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-68670384307673468182009-07-13T12:06:00.007-04:002009-07-13T13:03:49.683-04:00My Last Day in Massachusetts, Part 2Inspired by Elisa Gabbert's poem "<a href="http://oklachusetts.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-last-day-in-massachusetts-part-1.html">Last Days Home</a>", I decided to take my bike on a farewell spin of Jamaica Plain the night before the movers came to pack up all our earthly belongings (that was Friday night; it's now Monday afternoon, and I'm typing this post from my Emily's parents' house, where we've been staying since Saturday). I brought my camera along to document my ride.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltniracRYI/AAAAAAAAAm4/T9jogb2kJv0/s1600-h/P1020527.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltniracRYI/AAAAAAAAAm4/T9jogb2kJv0/s320/P1020527.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357990027154179458" /></a><br />Here's my bike. It's an old Raleigh road bike that I converted into a fixed gear in the summer of 2005. I built the wheels (I even threaded the spokes onto the wheel hubs); I reworked the bottom bracket and the headset; I put on a new chain and replaced the gear cogs with a single, fixed gear. I put on an old Brooks saddle that snapped in two last weekend. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltnievkiiI/AAAAAAAAAmw/EXaKgDP9zEI/s1600-h/P1020498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltnievkiiI/AAAAAAAAAmw/EXaKgDP9zEI/s320/P1020498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357990023753140770" /></a><br />Elisa's poem has that fantastic final sentence: "Coasting—the bottom of / my pedals scrape the grass, and the whole world / <br />smells like sweet gardens, like California." I love how the penultimate line break makes it sound like she's saying she's coasting over not just the grass but the whole world. And I love the tonal ambivalence of "coasting": is she gliding purposefully toward her future, or is she drifting?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltnjRMJPdI/AAAAAAAAAnI/YaA3bqr7jHs/s1600-h/P1020538.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SltnjRMJPdI/AAAAAAAAAnI/YaA3bqr7jHs/s320/P1020538.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357990037294759378" /></a> <br />Elisa's "coasting" is interesting in the context of my Raleigh because, as any cyclist knows, fixed gears can't coast. Whenever you are on the bike and the wheels are spinning, the pedals are going around and around. One simply cannot stop pedaling and coast; the bike won't allow it. So the rider of a fixed gear always has more control of his bike: if he wants to slow down, he simply pedals more slowly; if wants to speed up, he pedals more quickly.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sltni651w7I/AAAAAAAAAnA/1BFo71RBtMU/s1600-h/P1020532.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sltni651w7I/AAAAAAAAAnA/1BFo71RBtMU/s320/P1020532.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357990031312405426" /></a> <br />So, thinking about Elisa's "Last Days Home" and the idea of coasting vs. pedaling, I rode slowly around JP on Friday night to savor the neighborhood. I spun past the Victorian mansions and parks, the street lamps and bars, both feet turning around and around but never stopping.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sltnh8b1_II/AAAAAAAAAmo/Y1G-MCvLU3A/s1600-h/P1020488.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sltnh8b1_II/AAAAAAAAAmo/Y1G-MCvLU3A/s320/P1020488.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357990014543592578" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-2014213633877043172009-07-13T07:26:00.004-04:002009-07-13T12:05:50.657-04:00My Last Day in Massachusetts, Part 1It's my last day in Massachusetts. Tomorrow morning I'll hop in my Honda Fit and head to Oklahoma to stake my claim. Call it a modern day land run. A lot has changed in the 120 years since the first land run, though some things remain the same. I may not be riding in a covered wagon, but it's opportunity and the promise of a better life that brings me out west. I am a pilgrim, a frontiersman. Call me quintessentially American. Call me Oklachusan. <br /><br />In my first month in Massachusetts, in my first workshop at Emerson College (lead by the inimitable, infamous <a href="http://knottprosepo.blogspot.com/">Bill Knott</a>), I encountered the following poem by <a href="http://thefrenchexit.blogspot.com/">Elisa Gabbert</a>, a young woman fresh from Texas. I'm pretty sure Bill offered Elisa $10 to buy this poem from her, which is a high form of praise in Bill's world. I wrote Elisa to ask if I could publish it here, and thankfully she agreed. <a href="http://thefrenchexit.blogspot.com/2009/07/doing-circles-in-squares.html">She had never revised it and had forgotten all about it</a>, but this poem has always stuck with me. I love how uneasily it combines nostalgia for the past and hope for the future, as seen in the coasting of the bicycle (this poem reminds me why I love riding bicycles). Elisa is a first-rate poet and a dear friend, and I can't think of a better way to suggest that endings are also beginnings than to shut up now and give you this excellent poem. <br /><br />***<br /><br />LAST DAYS HOME<br /> by Elisa Gabbert<br /> <br />I feel like there’s something in my hands,<br />a present: I’m going all the places<br />that I’ve never been, and all at once. The other<br /> <br />end of America, and across a whole<br />ocean. Already this city (its disproportionate<br />dimensions, cranes like dinosaur skeletons)<br /> <br />feels temporary. I bike around the blocks<br />I know, saying hello and goodbye. It’s early<br />morning, and the air is still waving<br /> <br />from yesterday’s heat. A glitch in time.<br />Summer. I can almost see my brother,<br />in Prague at night, drunk, trying to find a place<br /> <br />that serves absinthe. In Venice, the first peach<br />he ever ate. Or walking Berlin in his long coat<br />and deep snow, grinning at the new adversity.<br /> <br />Being older, he did everything first. When<br />he was sixteen years old, he pressed two pennies<br />for me at the top of the Empire State. Does he<br /> <br />remember that? I still wear them at my neck,<br />and I remember everything. I saved every postcard,<br />though he never said enough. Just <span style="font-style:italic;">Having fun</span>.<br /> <br />A<span style="font-style:italic;">mazing here</span>. <span style="font-style:italic;">I miss you guys</span>. <span style="font-style:italic;">Missing home</span>.<br />Now that I’m leaving, maybe I will too.<br />This road, it wouldn’t be here in a year,<br /> <br />how it becomes the sidewalk, which<br />becomes the park. The light starts to edge<br />through the haze. No one thinks this place<br /> <br />is beautiful, but it’s close to that sometimes,<br />to something striking, like a good lie. The wind<br />blows the fountain all over my face<br /> <br />and the street. Coasting—the bottom of<br />my pedals scrape the grass, and the whole world<br />smells like sweet gardens, like California.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-32763050576559840802009-07-07T22:09:00.008-04:002009-07-08T09:42:00.764-04:00What to Put in Place of a HighwayOklahoma City is <a href="http://www.okladot.state.ok.us/newsmedia/i40-okc/index.htm">moving the stretch of I-40 that runs downtown</a>, dubbed the Crosstown Expressway, five blocks south of its current location. The new highway will be sunk below the roadway to allow for pedestrian bridges and roadways and the development of a large urban park. A boulevard will take the place of the current highway, one that Mayor Cornett hopes will be the gem of the City. The <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2008-05-14-highways_N.htm">plan has garnered lots of national press</a>, but as city planner <a href="http://okc.gov/planning/resources/OKCSpeckFINAL.pdf">Jeff Speck points out in his recently completed walkability report on Oklahoma City </a>(skip to "Mistakes About To Be Made" starting on page 38), the boulevard as it's currently envisioned will accomodate far more car traffic than it needs to and will therefore inhibit pedestrian activity precisely in the area where the City wants to encourage it the most. Speck recommends that OKC use <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commonwealth_Avenue,_Boston">Commonwealth Avenue Mall </a>in Boston's Back Bay as a model for how to build a boulevard. Will the City take Speck's advice? Or will they insist that it's disanalogous since Commonwealth Avenue wasn't originally a highway? (It was originally a marsh. Literally.)<br /><br />Thank goodness for The Infrastructurist. Check out the post from Monday, July 6th, entitled <a href="http://www.infrastructurist.com/2009/07/06/huh-4-cases-of-how-tearing-down-a-highway-can-relieve-traffic-jams-and-help-save-a-city/">"Huh?! 4 Cases of How Tearing Down A Highway Can Relieve Traffic Jams (And Save Your City)." </a>The title kinda says it all. Kudos to Seoul, Portland, and San Francisco for replacing highways with structures that actually encourage people to experience their cities in some other way than from the dashboard of their cars. <br /><br />Oklahoma City leaders, are you reading The Infrastructurist? Are you getting this? <br /><br />Oh, and so we're true to our name here at Oklachusetts, I would be remiss not to mention the <a href="http://www.rosekennedygreenway.org/">Rose Kennedy Greenway </a>that replaced Boston's <a href="http://www.masspike.com/bigdig/background/index.html">Central Artery </a>after it became the Big Dig. <br /><br />So, if Oklahoma City's goal is to move the cars someplace else and to encourage mixed-use development where pedestrians, cyclists, cars, buses, streetcars, and businesses can all coexist and commingle and connect (and any other co- word you can think of), then please don't replace a highway with a boulevard that is a highway in every way but its name.<br /><br />UPDATE: Architects, urban planners, civic leaders, entrepreneurs, and creative people everywhere: if you are wondering what we can do with the bones (the steel beams and concrete slabs) of I-40 once it's relocated, perhaps you should check out these worthy projects: the <a href="http://www.thehighline.org/">High Line Park </a>in NYC and the <a href="http://www.inhabitat.com/2009/07/06/the-big-dig-house-reaches-completion/">Big Dig House </a>in Lexington, MA.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-65941135559165758942009-07-06T08:04:00.011-04:002009-07-06T09:37:28.477-04:00Red, White, and BlueberriesThis Fourth of July, for the second year in a row, we spent our holiday with our favorite farmer and his wife. This year our friend Anne came, too. Emily met Ward when she worked as a grower at <a href="http://lindentreefarm.com/">Lindentree Farm </a>in 2004. He quickly became her friend and mentor, teaching her not just <a href="http://oklachusetts.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-on-farm-in-oklachusetts.html">how to drive a tractor</a>, how to identify the different signs of pest infestation and plant disease, and how much, when, and where to plant. He also taught her that although farming is backbreaking work, there are many small pleasures that come with working the land, like discovering that swallowtail caterpillars, beautiful enough in their own right, will shoot out bright orange horns to ward off predators if you gently squeeze them and that nothing is better than tasting a sun-warmed melon hacked open right in the field. She learned that picking the first tomatoes of the season and gathering handfuls of fragrant basil come along with picking rocks out of field in March and pulling weeds from between tiny carrot shoots on your stomach for hours. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7B7pwKzI/AAAAAAAAAmI/JvEqy86VzIs/s1600-h/P1020454.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7B7pwKzI/AAAAAAAAAmI/JvEqy86VzIs/s320/P1020454.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337442531486514" /></a>Ward and Nora rent a house that abuts one of the trails that Henry David Thoreau walked when he worked as a surveyor for the town of Concord in the 1850s. Across the road is <a href="http://www.hutchinsfarm.com/">Hutchins Farm</a>, where Ward now works, which has been designated farmland since 1775 but has been worked by humans for much longer than that. Plowing those fields, Ward has discoved many Native American artifacts--spearheads, axes, flint shards--some of which are ten thousand years old. He works on hallowed ground. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CUR5rNI/AAAAAAAAAmY/4_riUKqPq2w/s1600-h/P1020470.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CUR5rNI/AAAAAAAAAmY/4_riUKqPq2w/s320/P1020470.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337449142332626" /></a>Ward gave us a tour of the farm before dinner. Walking past the apple orchard, plucking blueberries off of 30-year old bushes, hiking down into a valley striped with rows and rows of onions and summer squash and scallions, I could not help but think that this rivaled any fireworks display. A squash blossom is just as colorful and explosive. And man, you should have tasted those sugar snap peas! Bang! <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CCLfePI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/ThTK6VyMH1I/s1600-h/P1020457.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CCLfePI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/ThTK6VyMH1I/s320/P1020457.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337444283611378" /></a>The Fourth of July is our nation's time to reflect on and celebrate our political and cultural independence, and to take pride in the fact that our country still is a beacon of hope for people everywhere who aspire to freedom. Spending the Fourth on a farm seems an appropriate form of celebration: those who choose to work as farmers enjoy a certain kind of independence from 9-to-5 cubicle employment. Farmers come close to achieving what Thoreau himself hoped to achieve by moving to Walden Pond: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CZbFdoI/AAAAAAAAAmg/PzipI_4fnw8/s1600-h/P1020476.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SlH7CZbFdoI/AAAAAAAAAmg/PzipI_4fnw8/s320/P1020476.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355337450523031170" /></a>But Thoreau didn't live in the woods forever (and he was only a mile away from town!), and farming is more about dependence than independence: our dependence on the land and nature for survival; our dependence on the sun and the rain and the earth to provide the raw ingredients and energy necessary to grow our food; our dependence on culture and tradition; our dependence on one another. On the day we celebrate our independence as a nation, I think it is also fitting to celebrate and honor those things upon which our lives depend.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-47248098843282728872009-07-01T21:32:00.009-04:002009-07-02T18:59:05.606-04:00Riding to Work in the Year 2009I'll miss commuting to work on the T. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXFOuFryI/AAAAAAAAAmA/acGJVn9unVs/s1600-h/0418090711.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXFOuFryI/AAAAAAAAAmA/acGJVn9unVs/s320/0418090711.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353679435654868770" /></a>Even in the dead of winter, waiting on the platform in the bone-jarring cold,<br /> <br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEwGf5WI/AAAAAAAAAl4/Bss37C6STqQ/s1600-h/0305090758.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEwGf5WI/AAAAAAAAAl4/Bss37C6STqQ/s320/0305090758.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353679427435750754" /></a>without my gloves again, I appreciated the opportunity to ride the T. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEiINOpI/AAAAAAAAAlw/nD0Hs-CIDow/s1600-h/0312091755.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEiINOpI/AAAAAAAAAlw/nD0Hs-CIDow/s320/0312091755.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353679423684819602" /></a>Even when the subway car was too full to sit, too full even to stand, <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXET6mxLI/AAAAAAAAAlo/n53JQnoDKbM/s1600-h/0303090737.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXET6mxLI/AAAAAAAAAlo/n53JQnoDKbM/s320/0303090737.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353679419869676722" /></a>obnoxious perfumes of strangers in the morning giving way to sour sweat of strangers <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEOLGDvI/AAAAAAAAAlg/h3AT-gwKefc/s1600-h/0227091605.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwXEOLGDvI/AAAAAAAAAlg/h3AT-gwKefc/s320/0227091605.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353679418328223474" /></a>in the evening, teenagers who listen to their music too loud and talk too loud (I always listen for The Flaming Lips' <a href="http://www.rhapsody.com/player?type=track&id=tra.3715093&remote=false&page=&pageregion=&guid=&from=&__pcode=">Riding to Work in the Year 2025</a>),<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWbYsqwJI/AAAAAAAAAlY/6CU3z1RdPTc/s1600-h/0226091537.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWbYsqwJI/AAAAAAAAAlY/6CU3z1RdPTc/s320/0226091537.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678716778758290" /></a>all the faces reading and talking and sitting in silence, daydreaming, thinking, <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWbEd5A8I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/Jyb14SWBFkI/s1600-h/0224090751.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWbEd5A8I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/Jyb14SWBFkI/s320/0224090751.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678711348069314" /></a>the train delayed without explanation and all you want is to be home <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWa0wsDKI/AAAAAAAAAlI/w-0w03XVT6Q/s1600-h/0220090752.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWa0wsDKI/AAAAAAAAAlI/w-0w03XVT6Q/s320/0220090752.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678707131944098" /></a>but you overhear a man in khakis and duck boots tell his lady friend <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWagHj99I/AAAAAAAAAlA/F0BHxkFIkb4/s1600-h/0220090751.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWagHj99I/AAAAAAAAAlA/F0BHxkFIkb4/s320/0220090751.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678701590738898" /></a>(more interested in <em>Teen Vogue</em>) about the porcini salad he paid too much for--<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWab14FYI/AAAAAAAAAk4/-zXJid4To5M/s1600-h/0220090732.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWab14FYI/AAAAAAAAAk4/-zXJid4To5M/s320/0220090732.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678700442817922" /></a>despite these annoyances, the T still beats traffic jams. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWBZpETOI/AAAAAAAAAkw/6PK-U1BF2FE/s1600-h/0219091728.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWBZpETOI/AAAAAAAAAkw/6PK-U1BF2FE/s320/0219091728.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678270355492066" /></a>I like driving to work without traffic jams--I don't like having no choice <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWBAyYyzI/AAAAAAAAAko/ZxiHcGDsewU/s1600-h/0219091724.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWBAyYyzI/AAAAAAAAAko/ZxiHcGDsewU/s320/0219091724.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678263683697458" /></a>BUT to drive. Riding the T can be an event. Riding the T can be banal.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWA5VOtCI/AAAAAAAAAkg/dCV-rsEaxrs/s1600-h/0219091723.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWA5VOtCI/AAAAAAAAAkg/dCV-rsEaxrs/s320/0219091723.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678261682353186" /></a>For daily commuters, the T (and perhaps the bus) offers <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWAnowVHI/AAAAAAAAAkY/r7vuDx5k7D8/s1600-h/0219090819a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWAnowVHI/AAAAAAAAAkY/r7vuDx5k7D8/s320/0219090819a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678256932410482" /></a>small moments of grace, if we're willing to notice them. <br /> <br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWAu6yhoI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/VZleF1GqNKg/s1600-h/0218090658.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkwWAu6yhoI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/VZleF1GqNKg/s320/0218090658.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678258887100034" /></a>I snapped these photos on my cell phone camera between January and April 2009.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-33351674722678921532009-06-30T11:10:00.001-04:002009-06-30T11:10:42.093-04:00Battlestar OklachusettsJune is almost over, July is our last month in Massachusetts, and we've started packing for the big move. Today is my last day of work. It's been raining for two weeks straight, but every once in a while the sun comes out and steams up the city. The air is humid and heavy, and I wish it would stop hanging around and do something already. <br /><br />*<br /><br />Emmett has taken an interest in bubble wrap, cardboard boxes, and rolls of tape. <br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoAf6NCGeI/AAAAAAAAAjw/j58q0ZZFIdA/s1600-h/P1020317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoAf6NCGeI/AAAAAAAAAjw/j58q0ZZFIdA/s320/P1020317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353091655283120610" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBtVR5mPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/uPNiQv1i7Is/s1600-h/P1020325.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBtVR5mPI/AAAAAAAAAj4/uPNiQv1i7Is/s320/P1020325.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353092985401219314" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoAfqDx7LI/AAAAAAAAAjo/br11lM7j1M0/s1600-h/P1020284.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoAfqDx7LI/AAAAAAAAAjo/br11lM7j1M0/s320/P1020284.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353091650949344434" /></a><br /><br />I, on the other hand, have not, and would much rather watch episodes of <em>Battlestar Gallactica</em>. Humanity has been suprise-attacked by the Cylons--brutal, sentient machines that turned on their human creators. The survivors jump around the galaxy on a fleet of spaceships looking for Earth while trying to avoid annihilation. At the end of Season 2.5, they've found a habitable planet hidden from their enemies in a nebula; against the audience's better judgment they decide to abandon their ships and inhabit the planet (New Caprica, they call it) that could become their permanent home.<br /><br />*<br /><br />Two nights ago, after we put Emmett to bed, Emily and I watched the first four episodes of Season Three, in which the humans manage to escape (barely) from Cylon captivity on New Caprica, but sadly the half-human, half-Cylon baby they've been secretly harboring is abducted. Later that night, Emily and I both had long, involved, vivid dreams featuring infants and exodi. I woke up in a sweat, disoriented by the drum of fan, and forgot that a month back we'd transitioned Emmett to the crib.<br /><br />*<br /><br />If you are ever on the cusp of a major life change, I recommend you head to the science fiction section of your local video store. The best movies and shows involve the violent and awkward collision of different species, mindsets, ways of life. A good sf movie is always apocalyptic in the sense that it shows one world ending as another begins. <br /><br />*<br /><br />Ridley Scott's <em>Alien</em>, despite all its stomach-bursting gore and its dark-corridor suspense, is really a long meditation on the consequences of reaching too far. You can't explore the deepest recesses of space without encountering a little contagion every now and then, whether this contagion is an 8-foot tall lizard that has acid for blood and will gestate its young inside your measly little body, or the soul-sucking greed that makes large corporations think their workers are expendable. And this contagion you pick up on your Odyssey home may just follow you for the rest of your life. You cannot overcome this contagion. You must transform it by merging with it. That's why the humans in <em>Battlestar Gallactica </em>were so keen on protecting their half-human, half-Cylon charge: life could never be the way it was before, so they knew that she was the key to their future. <br /><br />*<br /><br />Ray Suarez wrote a book called <em>The Old Neighbood: What We Lost in the Great Suburban Migration: 1966-1999</em>. I found it on the shelf as we were packing our books and have been flipping through it for a week or two. People left the cities in the 1950s thinking that a better life awaited them in the new communities being constructed on old farms at the edge of town. City life was vibrant and active but dirty, cramped, and dangerous, and life in the new suburb would be sterile but clean and spacious. Everything and everyone would look the same, they thought. There we can finally be free, they thought. <br /><br />*<br /><br />Free from what? Cylons? <br /><br />*<br /><br />Emily's parents threw us a Boston-themed going away party this weekend. Lobster bisque, Fenway franks, Harpoon beer, ice cream with Brigham's hot fudge sauce. People from all walks of our life here showed up: Emily's farm friends; our old barbecue crew; folks from Tufts and Emerson; neighbors, bandmates, cousins, aunts and uncles, former colleagues. <br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBtryFU8I/AAAAAAAAAkA/fEGsiCQH0KE/s1600-h/P1020342.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBtryFU8I/AAAAAAAAAkA/fEGsiCQH0KE/s320/P1020342.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353092991441785794" /></a><br /><br />Amid all these humans, Emmett suffered a major case of "stranger danger" anxiety. For example, he cried every time he saw our friend Dan. Gee, I can't imagine why. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBt9x5GKI/AAAAAAAAAkI/CqqOsguKBvs/s1600-h/P1020371.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkoBt9x5GKI/AAAAAAAAAkI/CqqOsguKBvs/s320/P1020371.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353092996272822434" /></a><br /><br />*<br /><br />At the party a friend of mine I always see at Boomerangs, JP's thrift store, gave me a book he'd found there that reminded him of me. He even wrote me a little farewell note on the front page. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'd donated that same book to Boommerangs not three days before. Sometimes the things you choose to leave have a strange way of refusing to be left behind. <br /><br />*<br /><br />In the first three seasons, all Jack from <span style="font-style:italic;">Lost</span> wanted to do was leave the island, but once he left all he wanted was to return. The island is his Battlestar, skipping through time and space. <br /><br />* <br /><br />Is Boston the New Caprica we're fleeing, or is Oklahoma City the New Caprica we're fleeing to? Where is our earth? We may never find it. We take solace in the vessel that takes us from point A to B.Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-23527406520337330162009-06-24T09:10:00.006-04:002009-06-25T15:16:03.370-04:00A Bird's Eye View of Population Density and SparsityIt's hard to see the forest for the trees. It's even harder to see the forest for the trees when the forest has been deforested. Translation: it's hard to see how dense or sparse a neighborhood is or has become when you are living in it. Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. Or, in this case, you need to take a hundred steps up and look at the picture from above. This is where satellite imagery can help. <br /><br />Inspired by Charles Benton's "<a href="http://www.arch.ced.berkeley.edu/kap/">kite aerial photography</a>" (but not actually owning a kite), I explored <a href="http://www.bing.com/">Bing</a>'s maps page and discovered a cool feature: "Bird's Eye View" satellite imagery. Using this tool, I "Binged" nine of my previous addresses to see what they look like from the air. To me, the results reveal much about differing assumptions of how and where we ought to live, and how we ought to go about planning cities and neighborhoods. <br /><br />Check them out. Two of these are in Cincinnati, three are in Oklahoma City, and four are in Boston. Can you tell which ones are which? <span style="font-weight:bold;">The first reader to put all the right answers in a comment will win a free Oklachusetts sticker</span>. <br /><br />But also, I'm wondering if you agree with me that the most aesthetically pleasing neighborhoods from the air often have the sparsest populations on the ground (and if you read my last post, you'll remember how important I think it is to have densely populated neighborhoods). Some of these 'hoods look like they were designed mostly for the approval of plane passengers cruising overhead. One more thing: which of these places looks the most "family friendly"? What does this mean, anyway? Is it friendly to have to put your kid in a car seat whenever you want to go anywhere? <br /><br />#1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw_FxdBqI/AAAAAAAAAjg/5CVPjkZbnrY/s1600-h/neighborhood1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 166px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw_FxdBqI/AAAAAAAAAjg/5CVPjkZbnrY/s320/neighborhood1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611692732352162" /></a><br />#2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-pi0nDI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/6JEqeEg3uok/s1600-h/neighborhood3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-pi0nDI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/6JEqeEg3uok/s320/neighborhood3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611685154790450" /></a><br />#3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-1PEZRI/AAAAAAAAAjY/6l5dz0jyjvg/s1600-h/Neighborhood2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 154px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-1PEZRI/AAAAAAAAAjY/6l5dz0jyjvg/s320/Neighborhood2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611688293164306" /></a><br />#4<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-b9qicI/AAAAAAAAAjI/4Z_gd7JxsTk/s1600-h/Neighborhood4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEw-b9qicI/AAAAAAAAAjI/4Z_gd7JxsTk/s320/Neighborhood4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611681509280194" /></a><br />#5<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwwAQKLfI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Bc6sEUj4ow0/s1600-h/Neighborhood5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 162px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwwAQKLfI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Bc6sEUj4ow0/s320/Neighborhood5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611433552489970" /></a><br />#6<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvRLwMNI/AAAAAAAAAiw/Lns0KeaPuuQ/s1600-h/Neighborhood7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvRLwMNI/AAAAAAAAAiw/Lns0KeaPuuQ/s320/Neighborhood7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611420917543122" /></a><br />#7<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvJlUEPI/AAAAAAAAAio/1S2cco_2Z8I/s1600-h/Neighborhood8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 199px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvJlUEPI/AAAAAAAAAio/1S2cco_2Z8I/s320/Neighborhood8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611418877268210" /></a><br />#8<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvuIgm6I/AAAAAAAAAi4/z1n_YTJLTA4/s1600-h/Neighborhood6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 166px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwvuIgm6I/AAAAAAAAAi4/z1n_YTJLTA4/s320/Neighborhood6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611428688567202" /></a><br />#9<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwu5j8JyI/AAAAAAAAAig/qcgiNYtQ1bU/s1600-h/Neighborhood9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/SkEwu5j8JyI/AAAAAAAAAig/qcgiNYtQ1bU/s320/Neighborhood9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350611414576539426" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-84620379312314139922009-06-23T15:21:00.017-04:002009-06-24T18:46:35.642-04:00We Want Density, Not a Thin CityRecently I wrote <a href="http://oklachusetts.blogspot.com/2009/05/whats-your-walk-score.html">a post about "walkability"</a> in which I asked the readers of Massahoma, Oklachusetts to visit the WalkScore website to determine how walkable their neighborhoods are. Almost without fail, the addresses with the highest WalkScores were in cities with the highest population densities. This does not surprise me at all, because a high population density means more people concentrated into a particular area means greater demand for the goods and services that businesses provide, and this demand is more frequent and consistent because it can come in the steady form of foot traffic (as opposed to only coming by car), which means that land can be developed for other, more significant purposes than parking. High population density equals foot traffic equals consistent demand equals business development. Add it all up and you have thriving urban areas where people live, work, study, shop, and play. Population density is what drives mixed-used development. And as Blair Humphreys notes in <a href="http://imaginativeamerica.com/2009/06/streetcars-drive-development/">his most recent post on <em>imagiNATIVE america</a></em>, streetcars can play a big part in the creation of this density and development. <br /><br />Check out these numbers from the 2000 Census Data: of the three major cities I lived in (Oklahoma City, Cincinnati, and Boston), Boston has the largest population at 608,352 and the highest density at 12,172.3 people per square mile, while Cincinnati has the smallest population at 332,458 but the second highest density at 4247.2 people per square mile. Oklahoma City, meanwhile, has a population of 547,274 but a density of 833.8 people per square mile. <br /><br />Let's put these figures into larger perspective. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_cities_by_population">Of the 263 biggest cities in the US</a> (cities with populations over 100,000), Boston ranks 21st, OKC 31st, and Cincinnati 56th. But when ranked by population density, Boston is 10th, Cincinnati is 76th, and Oklahoma City is 258th out of 263. I know Oklahoma City doesn't have the natural boundaries like Boston and Cincinnati have (the Charles River, the Bay, the Ohio River, etc.), and I know Oklahoma City went on what Steve Lackmeyer in his book <em>OKC Second Time Around </em>calls an "annexation spree" in the 1950s that saw its land area jump from 80 to 475 square miles by 1961 (today it covers 620 square miles and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_United_States_cities_by_area">is the second largest major metropolitan area next to Jacksonville, Florida</a>). I also know that this annexation spree happened at the same time Oklahoma City's extensive streetcar system and interurban passenger rail service was being dismantled (today no such service exists, though many people are pushing hard to have streetcars included in MAPS 3). For an in-depth account of OKC's streetcar past, start with <a href="http://dougdawg.blogspot.com/2007/09/okc-trolleys-part-1.html">Doug Loudenback's "Okc Trolleys Part 1</a>". For photos of downtown's long gone Interurban Terminal, see the <a href="http://rezoneokc.com/sites/index2.html">spread at Rezone OKC</a>. <br /><br />I know these things, but I don't have to be an urban planner to realize that 258 out of 263 is absurd. The number isn't entirely accurate, since there is more rural square footage in Oklahoma City than urban square footage. But even if you deannexed the rural areas (and generated a political firestorm in the process) and thus reduced its total square footage, OKC's population density would still be lower than it would have been if not for four decisions that eroded the city's core:<br /><br />1) Unchecked expansion of city limits;<br />2) Development outward instead of inward; <br />3) Disappearance of streetcar and passenger rail service;<br />4) "Clearance and Redevelopment" of the urban landscape through Urban Renewal (to see what was lost, <a href="http://imaginativeamerica.com/2009/06/things-i-should-have-posted-over-the-last-3-weeks-5-of-10/">check out these maps</a>, courtesy once again of Blair). <br /><br />If Oklahoma City had restricted its territorial growth, concentrated its development, and preserved its architectural buildings and transportation infrastructure, then we'd be in a different league right now. For the most part, this is what Boston did. But OKC didn't, and so every civic decision we make from now on must somehow address our critical lack of population density. <br /><br />Stay tuned for some satellite images that illustrate this problem...and a reader contest!Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-11164314949276971742009-06-21T08:14:00.014-04:002009-06-22T06:58:03.333-04:00Some Thoughts on Father's Day<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sj7ueg1w0wI/AAAAAAAAAiY/L5xrZEduD3I/s1600-h/P1020262.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sj7ueg1w0wI/AAAAAAAAAiY/L5xrZEduD3I/s320/P1020262.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349975615341646594" /></a><br /><br />Fathers may not admit it, but they like to push their children in strollers or wear them in slings because it secretly makes them feel cool. <br /><br />When I wear or stroll Emmett down Centre Street, whether I'm at the coffee shop or bakery or library or the bank, people gawk as we approach--little old ladies ooh and ahh, young couples give us puppy dog eyes and hold each other's hand a little tighter, tattooed baristas say things like "that's one good looking lad" without a trace of irony, and even homeless dudes forget to ask me for some spare change. Emmett is my instant attention-getter, my get-out-of-obscurity-free card, and when he's with me, I forget that my hair is turning gray, that my hairline is receding, that my back is killing me, and that I didn't get enough sleep the night before. I could weigh 250 pounds, be hungover in Vegas with a huge beard and two loser friends like <a href="http://trueslant.com/markstricherz/files/2009/06/hangover.jpg">that fat dude from <em>The Hangover</a></em>, but throw a baby on me and I'm pure box-office gold. <br /><br />In fact, Emmett's kinda gotten to my head. I'm more than a little immodest when he and I are hanging out. Take this situation, for example: <br /><br /><strong>Little Old Lady </strong>(who sees me standing in the aisle of the convenience store with Emmett strapped to my chest): Oh, how cute! How precious!<br /><br /><strong>Chad</strong>: Thank you! <br /><br /><strong>LOL</strong>: How old? <br /><br /><strong>C</strong>: I'll be 33 in July! <br /><br />Or this one: I'm walking down the sidewalk with a cup of coffee and I overhear a beautiful woman say to her friend, "Isn't he darling?"<br /><br /><strong>Chad</strong>: Are you talking about me? Thank you!<br /><br /><strong>Beautiful Lady </strong> (choosing to ignore me): Just adorable! <br /><br /><strong>C</strong> (choosing to ignore that she's ignoring me): Thank you, thank you, thank you!<br /><br /><strong>BL</strong> (who looks the other way as we pass, then whispers to her friend): I was talking about the baby. <br /><br />Okay, so maybe most of the time they are talking about the boy and not the father. But yesterday, Father's Day, we were at a Building 19 looking for discounted Persian rugs, when an older gentleman, stooped with a cane, and I had the following exchange: <br /><br /><strong>Older Gentleman</strong>: That sure is a cute one!<br /><br /><strong>Chad</strong>: Thank you! <br /><br /><strong>OG</strong>: Enjoy him because it won't be this way forever! <br /><br /><strong>C</strong>: Kids grow up pretty quick, huh?<br /><br /><strong>OG</strong>: Sure, but so do their parents! One day you'll be like I am! <br /><br />So I am getting old and getting older by the minute. Good thing I have Emmett around to make me look young. And in case you think this is vanity or pride, please remember that this is Shakespeare-approved vanity or pride. <a href="http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonn01.htm#anchor002">Shakespeare tells us in his second sonnet</a> that to have children is "to be new made when thou art old, / And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st it cold." <br /> <br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sj7sg8qiS4I/AAAAAAAAAiQ/UimgdEg1Gkw/s1600-h/P1020266.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8g-xb_ORUOU/Sj7sg8qiS4I/AAAAAAAAAiQ/UimgdEg1Gkw/s320/P1020266.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349973458147232642" /></a>Chad Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10563363539247268478noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6263630560673585483.post-81497157078110024902009-06-17T18:51:00.005-04:002009-06-17T19:39:20.137-04:00Emmett Takes the TEmmett rode Boston's T today for the first time. Hard to believe that it took 7 months; I suppose it's because our little neighborhood of Jamaica Plain has everything we need on a daily basis (markets, cafes, thrift stores, libraries, community center, huge botanical garden, etc.). With another local mom and her daughter, we went to check out what the Boston Children's Museum has to offer babes Emmett and Eleanor's age. Eleanor has ridden before, and stood in Rachel's lap grabbing the pole with all the swagger of an experienced commuter. Emmett rubber-necked; there was so much to look at: people of all shapes and sizes and colors, scenery passing in a blur on the other side of the window, signal lights and advertisements and maps. He was in heaven.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-AHQPS0I/AAAAAAAAACA/Hz5NDPoxIN8/s1600-h/P1020230.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-AHQPS0I/AAAAAAAAACA/Hz5NDPoxIN8/s320/P1020230.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348444572891433794" border="0" /></a><br />I tried to verbalize to Rachel what it was that I missed so much about taking the T daily (I had been working downtown as a consultant, but was laid-off during my maternity leave). I suppose it constantly reminded me that I am part of a larger civilization. I had to share space with the rest of greater Boston's commuting humanity - come face to face with their quirks, their smells, their voices. We had to treat one another during that time with mutual respect and consideration; often it was even kindness. This is what some people hate about public transport. I say those people - the ones sitting solitary in their climate-controlled cars during rush-hour, and for whom public parks are never as good as one's own fenced-in private yard - have lost a little bit of their humanity. But then I'm prone to hyperbole.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-ARFF7BI/AAAAAAAAACI/aAX8eQnBDYc/s1600-h/P1020244.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-ARFF7BI/AAAAAAAAACI/aAX8eQnBDYc/s320/P1020244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348444575529036818" border="0" /></a><br />The museum was hoppin' for a weekday. Their dedicated "Play Space" for children under 3 was filled with moms and nannies and their charge, and smelled not-vaguely like poop and pee. In the small infant area, for kids who can't yet walk, most everything was padded, and the walls were mirrored. Emmett ogled the surely-stressed fish in the plexiglass tank, and was nearly swallowed-up by the weird waterbed thingy...but mostly he and Eleanor fought over the cool toys that a thousand other kids before them had pawed and drooled on. It had to be great for their immune systems.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-AVfm_cI/AAAAAAAAACQ/JHKJeXYzk1I/s1600-h/P1020245.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DjR5J-Ruwis/Sjl-AVfm_cI/AAAAAAAAACQ/JHKJeXYzk1I/s320/P1020245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348444576713997762" border="0" /></a>Mama Reynoldshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03677227713928052189noreply@blogger.com1