Grow up, old man

Yesterday, I finished listening to Maze of Bones, the first installment in Scholastic's The 39 Clues series, which the publisher hopes will help keep sales up now that the Harry Potter series has concluded.

It's not bad, certainly better than author Rick Riordan's other series, Percy Jackson and the Olympians, which I found ghastly and unreadable. To be fair, I started it after working through all of Anthony Horowitz's Alex Rider books, which I loved. Riordan oversees the story arc, but he is only one of the writers that Scholastic is using to churn out the 10 book series in 2 years.

Time magazine described the series thusly: "If you forcibly interbred Lemony Snicket and National Treasure and chose the most viable of their mutant offspring, you might come up with something like The 39 Clues." Orphans Dan and Amy Cahill discover at their grandmother's funeral that their family is old and powerful, including seemingly all of the major figures of history. The will sends them off on a dangerous worldwide quest to track down the 39 Clues and find the Cahill Treasure, the secret of the family's power.

I found it interesting enough to create an account on The 39 Clues website. I felt a bit creepy scrolling all the way down to 1964 to select my birth year, but the site doesn't seem to be judging me. It asked me a series of questions to determine which Hogwarts house branch of the Cahill family I belong to.


I'm guessing it was a close call between this scientific branch and the Janus branch of artists and performers.

The second book in the series comes out today.

Real Olympics

I've made good progress on the sweater this morning, so I thought I'd pause and offer these thoughts on the Real Olympics. I know we call them "the Olympic Games," but by and large "games" do not belong in the Olympic contests. I say these events must go:

• Badminton
• Baseball
• Basketball
• Beach Volleyball
• Boxing
• Fencing
• Football
• Handball
• Hockey
• Judo
• Softball
• Table Tennis
• Taekwondo
• Tennis
• Volleyball
• Water Polo
• Wrestling

Anything that is a direct match-up between two people or two teams is something other than the Olympics. (I know: you're going to fight me on Wrestling since it has tradition behind it. I don't care; it meets the "match-up" criteria, so it goes).

I also say we ditch "Equestrian" for a species violation. And we should lose Rhythmic Gymnastics because its stupid.

Frazz

February 1990 was a very frustrating part of my life. My wheels were spinning. My Master's thesis was overdue but stalled, and it was blocking me from moving on in my studies. Although I lived with two other grad school guys, I felt lonelier than when I lived alone (loneliness without solitude). I was certainly on the point of admitting I was gay, but I had no idea how to begin to come out. And it was February in Ohio. Bleah.

Late in the month, an otherwise unremarkable "Calvin & Hobbes" cartoon was published with a panel that spoke directly to me. I cut it out and stuck it to my monitor. I've carried from job to job an enlarged but abridged version: "Why do things have to be this way? Why can't things be different?"

Periodically, I have a pang of grief over how much I miss "Calvin & Hobbes." When this happens, I might re-read all the books, troll the web for news and nostalgia, or change my IM avatar to that little picture of Calvin throwing an existential temper tantrum.

On one such occasion, I read that a comic called Frazz had a similar visual style, and I've been reading it ever since. I encourage you to check it out. I really liked today's comic. It's smart, and expects a lot out of the reader, referencing this classic Charles Addams piece.