Category: General

  • Anne Elk, The Brontosaur Lady


    I’ve got one last Mesa Southwest Museumstory.

    As you can imagine, dinosaurs can be big – really big. When a child looks at them, they’re even bigger.

    I’ve pointed out (leading to this story, actually) that Michelle is quite good at dinosaur identification – but that’s looking at books, or on the TV screen.

    When she was confronted with the Apatosaurus at the museum yesterday, this picture is an approximation of what she saw. It’s no wonder that she incorrectly identified this dinosaur.

    “Daddy, it’s a brachiasaurus!” she shouted excitedly.

    I had already read the sign and knew it wasn’t, not that she was that far off, so I asked her, “Is that what it is?”, and she nodded, so I suggested we step back to get a better look at it.

    Once we stepped back, I was going to ask her to look at the head and legs and I knew she’d get it, but before we got that far Anne Elk arrived on the scene.

    (I’m sure Anne Elk is not her real name, I just instantly branded her that in my head. I chose the name not becuase of her looks, she was quite attractive and looked nothing like John Cleese in drag, but because of what she said.”)

    Anne apparently felt that Michelle needed more feedback.

    “That’s very good!”, she said, “It does look a lot like a brontosaur! You’re really good at this! This one is called Apatosaurus.”

    I just tried to look at her and smile, not sure if I was irritated because she thought my daughter stupid enough to call it a ‘brontosaur’ (which she didn’t) or she thought my parenting needed some help.

    (The fact that she just might be one of those people who talk to complete strangers never crossed my mind at the time.)

    I was certainly irritated because she’d robbed Michelle of the chance to look over the skeleton and change her identification. I was sure she’d be able to stand back and see it wasn’t a brachiasaurus.

    Later she tried again to encourage Michelle with a series of fatuous remarks like, “Aren’t their bones big” or “Isn’t he funny looking?”

    Again, it rubbed me the wrong way, this time because she was talking to her like she was a baby. I smiled and remained silent thinking that her kid was probably still in diapers or something.

    Finally, she came over to me and tried starting a conversation. If someone were trying to get this dad’s attention, she couldn’t have chosen a better topic:

    “Your daughter is so bright. How old is she?”

    “She’s three.”

    “She is so clever. She really seems to know a lot about this stuff.”

    She couldn’t have chosen a better topic, but by this point, I was just too entrenched in my irritation at this woman that I wouldn’t engage her in conversation. I couldn’t fathom why she kept coming back to us and trying to engage us.

    She didn’t appear to be with a family or kids and, more to the point, Michelle wasn’t being that clever at the museum.

    Shortly after seeing the apatosaurus she was frightened by the animatronic dinosaurs. I had calmed her down, but she was nervous and quiet, not running around and pointing at dinosaurs and saying, “It’s a triceratops!” or reciting facts or anything like that.

    I just couldn’t help feeling like this was false praise and that she wanted something from us – and I wasn’t about to give it.

    The “conversation” consequently went nowhere and she finally gave up.


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  • Mesa Southwest Museum



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    Having established that my daughter is a wannabe paleontologist, I took her today to the Mesa Southwest Museum.

    It’s been several years since I’ve been there and they’ve made significant renovations, including a permanent dinosaur exhibition. They had a small exhibition before and I wasn’t sure what to expect.

    The permanent exhibition is quite nice, and Michelle and I enjoyed it. My main complaint was that skeletons were, in many case, poorly labeled. In many cases, the name was not clearly displayed and the descriptive text needed to be read through to find the name. While that’s not too bad, it’s not terribly convenient when you’ve got a three-year old standing there saying, “What’s this dinosaur, daddy? What’s this dinosaur?”

    In one or two of the cases, there appeared to be no sign at all. That’s something they need to work on.

    One section is called dinosaur mountain, and it has a series of animatronic dinosaurs. What surprised me was that Michelle was actually afraid of them. She can watch dinosaurs tearing each other up all day long on Walking With Dinosaurs but when confronted with very unrealistic ones she was nervous. Fortunately, I was able to assure her that they were nothing to be afraid of.

    The museum is also hosting a traveling exhibit called When Crocodiles Ruled put together by Science Museum of Minnesota.

    I wasn’t too impressed by the Crocodile exhibit, but it was aimed, I’d guess at elementary school-aged children. The “science” exhibits had too much reading to keep Michelle’s attention, and there weren’t enough fossils.


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  • Geek Moments for Fathers


    If ever there’s proof that parents influence their children, my little dino aficionado, Michelle, is it.

    I nearly chose a career in Paleontology, and, although I managed to avoid that particular path to poverty, I’ve still got quite a lot of books and such on the subject.

    Michelle has an amazing ability to remember and identify dinosaur species (and, she corrects anyone who calls a Tyrannosaur a “T-Rex”). At age three, she can correctly identify and name at least:

    • Compsognathus
    • Coelophysis
    • Ornithelestes
    • Oviraptror
    • Velociraptor
    • Deinonychus
    • Allosaurus
    • Dilophosaurus
    • Tyrannosaurus Rex
    • Spinosaurus
    • Apatosaurus
    • Diplodocus
    • Brachiosaurus
    • Saltasaurus
    • Iguanodon
    • Maiasaura
    • Parasaurolophus
    • Protoceratops
    • Psittacosaurus
    • Styracosaurus
    • Triceratops
    • Pentaceratops
    • Zuniceratops
    • Pachycephalosarus
    • Stegosaurus
    • Ankylosaurus

    Although, admittedly, she does have some difficulty identifying related species, for example, confusing Daspletosaurus or Albertosaurus (both Tyrannosauridae) with Tyrannosaurus Rex itself. Small wonder, though, often the illustrations are virtually identical and you have to get into measuring sizes of the bones before the speciation becomes obvious.

    I’m also quite pleased that she firmly understands that Pterosaurs, Marine Reptiles and Therapsida/Synapsids (Mammal-like Reptiles) are not dinosaurs.

    OK, that’s my proud geek-father moment.

    Of course, she likes Hello Kitty, too, but she doesn’t get that from me.

    There’s more on this, but I’ll post that later.


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  • Strange Colors



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    My kitchen window looks to the east. Last evening, while standing in the kitchen, I noticed and odd pink hue to the light. Looking out the window, everything from the sky to the ground had adopted this pink shade, so I grabbed my camera in hopes of capturing it.

    Of course, the source was the sunset behind me, so I got out and caught this second shot to the west.



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  • The Popeye’s Song


    We stopped in this Popeye’s Fried Chicken today. It’s one of those newfangled restaurant gas station combinations. That seems like such a great idea to me. We all know how well gasoline goes with just about any kind of food, right?

    The point of this story is that, somewhere in the back, one or more of the employees were singing a song to the tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

    They weren’t singing loud enough for me to hear the whole song, but from what I got the final verse went something like this:


    On the twelfth day of [blah blah] KC asked of me:
    [blah blah blah]
    Seven Number 7's
    [blah blah blah]
    For the love of god
    [blah blah blah blah]
    ...and a Number 1 meal, spicy.

    After the big production (one guy sang all 12 verses) I heard him say he was trying for American Idol.

    Here’s a bit of advice: Don’t quit the day job at Popeye’s

    (However, if anybody happens to know the lyrics to this song, post it in the comments.)


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  • These Shoes Were Made For Stomping…


    James got his first pair of shoes today.

    He’s been standing for a while now, and even walking along (sideways) while holding onto things. In the last few days, he’s been taking a couple of unaided steps and so… here he is, stomping away and have a good old time.


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  • Never ask a 3-year old to smile…


    Last weekend, I took Michelle to Encanto Park on Saturday morning.

    The idea was just to get out of the house for a while, but it was a beautiful day and the park was virtually empty. The amusement park, Enchanted Island opened up and was equally empty, so I took Michelle on the train ride.

    I hadn’t been expecting anything other play running around the park, so I hadn’t brought my camera.

    Today, we came back just for the photo op.

    Here is proof that when you ask a 3-year old to smile, the result just isn’t always you want. I don’t know what Irene’s excuse is in this picture…


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  • Stupor Bowl

    I saw on the news tonight that 85% of the televisions in America are expected to tune in to some sporting event or other on Sunday.

    Couldn’t care less, but, they had an article more near and dear to my heart. Pizza restaurants expect a massive upsweep in sales on Sunday pandering to the couch potato army. Some restaurants are expecting 300-400 pizzas sold on that day!

    They’re stocking up to make sure that they can handle the extra load.

    What does that mean to me? Sunday will be a bad day to buy a pizza. Rushed and overworked staff will be preparing substandard pizzas for and unappreciative and unwashed audience.

    Obviously Saturday will be a good day for reviewing a pizza. I wonder who it will be?

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  • Fry Bread House


    If you’re like me, the State Fair means just one thing: The Food Rides!

    The piggly wiggly fry ride, the corn dog ride, the lemonaid ride and most importantly, the indian fry bread ride.

    Once upon a time you could only get fry bread at the fair, but now there are a few places you can buy fry bread year-round. (Finally, I don’t have to go to the state fair anymore!)

    Best of the bunch is the Fry Bread House, which not only has good fry bread, but makes good red and green chile beef to top it.

    Fry Bread House
    4140 N 7th Ave
    Phoenix, AZ


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  • How To Fix Chinese Week

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    So, having busted on Phoenix’s Chinese week celebration, I also have a proposal for improvement.

    Unlike western New Year, Chinese New Year isn’t just a single day. The New Year celebration covers 15 days from the actual eve of the New Year until the Lantern Festival 15 days later.

    While not every day in the 15 is a holiday, depending on the day New Year falls on, workers usually only get 3-5 days off from work.

    Having spent a Chinese New Year in Taiwan, I was really surprised that New Years’ eve and day are dead quiet. Everyone is home with their families. The city of Taipei empties as everyone returns to their home. The people wandering the streets are largely made up with foreigners with nowhere to go (although the temples do pack in good business on New Year’s Day.)

    Westerners with visions of Lion Dances in the streets would be sorely disappointed.

    At the other end of the celebration is the Lantern Festival, which closes Chinese New Year. The lantern festival features beautiful and intricate lanterns and people thronging the streets buying food and celebrating.

    While lesser known, it seems to me that this would be the ideal time to celebrate Chinese Week. Many Chinese and Taiwanese have, no doubt, gone home for the actual New Year, but have begun to return by the Lantern Festival. More Chinese-ancestored people available could make the Chinese Week more authentic. The Lantern Festival is visually beautiful, and could be used to sponsor contests by schools and corporations to build and display lanterns.

    The time has come: Let’s have a Lantern Festival for Phoenix’s Chinese Week!

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