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by Richard Timothy | Feb 12, 2010 | Confessed Confidentially, I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I’ve started creating a list of things I think I’d be willing to try that I’m typically in opposition to. Things that fall under the “doing it for the experience” chapter of life that I think everyone keeps track of, even if it is just a mental note in the imaginary book of our life. I’m not sure this chapter is ever included in biographies, but I think if they did include it, it would definitely add to any books overall readability.
I don’t consider this the same as that list people make as a “to do” list before moving on, powering down, challenging Death, passing into nothingness, or getting your wings, depending on which mythos caters to your needs best in the dying department. Apparently this list always has a connection with buckets, or something.
The basic concept of those types of lists seems to have an arch nemesis quality about them. They are commonly filled with the extremes of life, or as American marketing felt was the necessary approach X-TREMEs of life. These are often things that might put you closer to death than you were at before you started the list. Things like bungee jumping off a bridge… with no bungee cord. You know, things like that.
The list I am talking is a lot of the time about the impulse of the moment, and after saying that I can see how making this list is a bit counter productive in regards to the impulse factor. The thing is, the list is not always for future tense experiences. Instead of it being filled with things you will do, it’s also for the things you have done. So the list is not always full of positive experiences. Some of the experiences were just, well, for experience.
Going to my first and only professional bouncy ball sporting event, which oddly when put like that covers far more sporting “things” than I initially thought… basket ball, my first and only professional basketball game. It was years ago and the tickets were my tip for ordering a pizza. It was the damnedist thing. It was a snow packed afternoon and I didn’t want to cook so I ordered a pizza and when it finally arrived the first thing the delivery man asked me was if I had any plans for next Thursday night.
This caught me a bit off guard. I told him I thought he was cute and was sure he was a lovely person, but he really wasn’t my type. His eyes opened uncomfortably wide while he replayed the whole conversation back in his mind. It reminded me of a baby’s face when it is being tossed in the air. During that freefall phase, there is always that “why the hell are you doing this to me” look of horror. 
It isn’t until they are caught they start smiling and giggling again… or crying. I’ve seen plenty as well. The delivery boy did not cry, instead he caught himself. When he realized what he had said he smiled, and explained that I had won two tickets to a Jazz game, who is only professional sports team that Utah has, I think.
My first impulse was to sell them. Then I started thinking. Perhaps going to a live game would give me some additional perspective to help me better understand the personal mystery that is sports. I asked a friend to go with who was actually a fan of the team and the sport, thinking it might help. It didn’t… well it did in the sense that he could tell me what color of team jersey I should be cheering for based on our proximity to the surrounding fans and who they were cheering for. As for sport appreciation, I still don’t get it, but I went damn it. I did it for the experience.
Sky diving in bowling shoes was another one of these things to add to my experience list. I dug that one though. I went with my two little sisters. It was Steph’s 18th birthday present to herself. It was good, good day. Trying wine for the first time during my first trip to Italy was another experience for the list that just sort of stuck, which should help explain my affinity for Italian wines. It was in the town of Manarola, in Cinque Terre. Sigh, I love that place. Spending a summer in San Francisco turned out to be one of those “seemed like a good idea at the time” experiences, which landed on the “did it for the experience” list with one of those “disastrous experience” asterisks placed right at the beginning, in bold.
Who knows maybe some day I’ll post about each one of these little experiences, but it would probably be a result of a “did it for the experience” for blogging while inebriated.
Things that I’ve recently thought of that I’d probably throw on the list are:
- Sampling a pint of Guinness in a pub in England or Ireland. Having never tried beer in any country, and really having no desire to try any, sampling some Guinness in a pub setting has doable element to it. Sample being the clarifying word in that. Sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot commit to anything more than a sampling at this point.
-
Go to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field and eat a ball park frank. I really don’t care about seeing them play, but I’d like to put the eating a frank at Wrigley Field on my list, and I don’t eat hot dogs. I’ve haven’t since I learned with they were made of some 20+ years ago.
- Drinking a correctly made cup of tea is something that made my list of required experiences ever since two days ago when I came across that section in The Salmon of Doubt, and just might just happen this weekend.
- Sitting in a tub of jell-o might belong on my list. Sure it sounds wrong on multiple levels, but if it goes bad I imagine the worst that would happen is that it could result in an international campaign of “shit you should never do”. Ohhh…
- Create an international campaign for “shit you should never do”.
- And… spend more than 15 minutes creating my things to get to for my “did it for the experience” list.
The nice thing about these lists, they are always a work in progress. Although, don’t confuse this with an excuse or justification list. If your actions result in emotionally or physically hurting another person and you try to claim you did if for the experience… no! Piercing your naughty bits is something one might do for the experience. Hurting someone for the experience defines you as a douche and places you right below that ring of nasty growth that forms in the toilet if you stop cleaning it for s few weeks on the list of brainless life forms.
How about you? What is something you’d put on your “for the experience” list?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: to do list, Utah Jazz, Manarola Cinque Terre, and Wrigley Field.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 11, 2010 | My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Something to Wine About
With this months wine party over and done with, mostly, I figure it’s time to talk wine. I don’t consider a wine party officially over until the last of the wine is drunk, drank, drunken… gone. As of today, I have one bottle to go. A half bottle of merlot and a half bottle of Pinot. Better make that ¼ bottle of Pinot. I call it palate motivation, and it adds a certain regalness to my desk. Besides I like the way the light of my monitor reflects through the wine, well did thirty minutes ago. I’m sure the wine party will officially be over sometime Friday… night.
So the wine I want to talk about was actually a wine that want not intended for the wine party. It was just finished at the wine party. It all started on the Thursday. You know how some days are really crappy and the idea of liquid libations start to tickle your senses, much like a sneeze during allergy season in a field of whatever the hell it is that give you allergies. Yeah, Thursday wasn’t like that at all. As far as Thursdays it was rather lovely. I remember there was some sunshine and smog, but low smog.
In route from work I just so happened to be driving by the liquor store. It took driving six blocks in the opposite direction I normally drive, but it was the… scenic route. There are two, three, ten… there are a number of things that I absolutely love in life. Turns out one of them is when you go into your local liquor store and discovering that the Italian wine section has almost doubled since the last time you were there… and I didn’t even know that I loved that until last Thursday.
I knew what I wanted get for the wine party, but, but, but there were so many new ones! Besides wine should always be purchased in pairs, well you should always buy at least two bottles at a time. There are reasons for this. Mainly, it’s the brown bag thing. If you get two bottles you get a bigger bag, almost grocery sized. There’s a bigger sense of purpose, better yet, accomplishment.
But, if you only get one bottle you’re stuck with one of those small bags that wrap around the neck of the bottle. Whenever I walked out of the liquor store with just one bottle I always felt like I needed a hobo jacket and a park bench to sit on. Oh, and if you get two bottles, or more, you always have the option to compare, and then compare, and then compare again.
The first bottle was something tried and true, a lovely Chianti Classico that I have savored on more than one occasion. Then, because there were so many new flavors, most of which I had never even seen before… let alone pronounce. That’s one thing about loving Italian wines, I can describe the label simply enough, but I’ll be buggered if I can tell you what it’s called.
As for how I made this brilliant wine selection. I relied upon a tried and true method of decision making. I used that rhyme, the one about a guy named Moe and he was a meeny, or something. The rhyme ended and my finger was pointing at a bottle of 2007 Castello Monaci Liante Salice Salentino… I have the empty bottle on my desk as I type this to make sure I spell it right. It’s made with Negroamaro (80%) and Malvasia Nera (20%) grapes and Castello Monaci is located near the bucolic town of Salice Salentino in Puglia, or in common English, the “heel” of “Italy’s boot” .
As for my review, I’m going to get very technical and tell you it was “yummy” no, better make the “super yummy”. Everyone that tried it made the Oooo sound. You know, that sound that says, “That just exceeded all my expectations I had for this.” It was only $13US too. There’s a saying about wine (that I just made up), which is, “Never underestimate the flavor of a cheep wine.” Besides, it easy economics, why send $130.00 on one bottle of tasty wine when you can get ten bottles of something that is just as likely to make you say “Oooo, that’s nice!” ten times more.
If you dig red wine, find a bottle of this and enjoy. And if you don’t like red wine… get a bottle of this and send it to me.
Oh, and I also learned if at all possible, always purchase the 2007 Plungerhead Zinfandel before the 2008. The difference is sippingly noticeable, and more so if you actually take a mouthful of the stuff. So to recap, in a Frankenstein monster kind of way, 2007 Goood! 2008 Baaaad. I mean it’s drinkable, just not nearly as drinkable.
You know, I don’t think I’ve yet to ask this, but to you wine drinkers out there, do you have any red recommendations? I’d love to hear them.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: wine and PC, Castello Monaci Liante 2007 Salice Salentino, and wine store.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 9, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
It has been a weekend of revelations, or at the very least a weekend of notable observations. One of the main ones being, wine does not a detoxifier make. Ok, so what happened was, on Saturday I went and got a massage on a Migun massage bed, which was groovy, happy, and relaxing. Not to mention that it helped release a number of toxins in my body. The problem being, one of the orders you are given at the end of your massage is to ingest copious amounts of water to help flush all of the new released toxins from your body. Not that this was a problem, the situation that occurred is that the evening encompassed this months wine party, which is essentially an anti-detox gathering.
So as a note to self, which I think you might find useful, using wine in an attempt to keep hydrated and to assist in flushing out the toxins released from a massage is one of those “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” But trust me, it’s not… well eventually it’s not. Throughout the evening though it did felt like a pretty good idea.
On an “Oh” topic, I did finally see Avatar this weekend. I main thing I learned about this experience was that going to a movie on Super Bowl Sunday kicks ass. There was hardly anyone in the theater. Angela and I got there 5 minutes before the movie started and still we got bloody great seats. There might have been maybe only 20 other people in the entire theater. It was grand. There was even a cute old couple in front of us. The old chap did nap out for a bit. I could hear him snoring for about twenty minutes. I think it was the explosions from the missiles being fired into the bid tree that woke him up. He jumped a little when it happened to, which really set the wrong mood. This huge tree is being blown up and I’m giggling because of this little adorable old man being exploded out of his nap.
Although, I will say this, in regards to being ordered to consume mass quantities of liquid, preferably water, over a three day period, going to see a three hour movie during the second day, after spending most of the morning drinking glass after glass of water, is not the wisest of decisions. Let’s just say I got a lot of exercise during the film from all the sprints I did running up and down stairs whenever the “need” arose. So today, I’m still trying to figure out if my legs are sore from all the running or are still residuals from the massage. It’s a toss up at this point. Although I would like to direct this one comment to Hollywood… if you insist on making epically long films, put in a damn intermission. You are doing a huge disservice to the bladders of movie going public all over the world.
I guess that’s it, oh yeah, um, something about the film… well out of all the movies I’ve ever seen it was definitely one of them. No, I mean, it was fine. I dug the respect life and nature message, and the “humans quit being bastards” message was equally clear and understood. Though it didn’t alter my world or the way I look at films, or affect me say the same way I Heart Huckabees or Stranger than Fiction did, but it was quite entertaining. I don’t think I’ll see it again. At least I have no plans on seeing it again, but plans are very fickle things. I’m definitely glad I saw it in 3D on the big screen though. So, you know, thanks James for sharing your opus. I’ll even check out the sequel.
There you have it, my bemused babblings of a basic and bobbingly brilliant weekend… almost Seussian you could say.
So any of you have any notable observations this weekend?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Migun, old man sleeping, and Stranger than Fiction.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 8, 2010 | Confessed Confidentially, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I love Trekkies. Not because I am one, and not because I want to be one. I mean I have never had the opportunity to play one on television, nor have I ever gone to a convention, but I think I’d like to… on both counts. I mean, I did go to the new Star Trek on opening night… on an IMAX screen no less, but I didn’t initiate it. A friend invited me. It was a lot of fun though, and for the record, going to a movie with a theater full of devout fans really adds to the delight factor of the film. The only exception being the last three, which were actually the first three Star Wars movies, episodes 1 and 2 anyway… the second one was so bad I boycotted the third one and have still not seen it. I mean let’s be honest, after episode 2 ended… I witnessed a theater of adult males openly crying out of sheer disappointment, I mean let’s face it that was the day the power of the force lost all its power.
I guess more than anything, I just like the idea of Trekkies. Now before I go any further, I know that there are going to be those that get a bit frumpy at my use of the word Trekkie as opposed Trekker. I never even knew this was an issue in the Star Trek fan microcosm until I watched the documentary Trekkies.
Apparently, a Trekkie is one kind of fan and a Trekker is another, but no one can really agree what the official definition of each term is. So I think it breaks down to which word you like the sound of most, that’s what you will label yourself as. I guess in a vague way it’s the difference between calling yourself a Buddhist or Zen Buddhist, or maybe a Catholic or a Protestant, a Druid or a Wiccan, a cat person or a dog person… paper or plastic. The core perspective is the same, it’s just the label is what is different.
So left them fight… better make that debate. Let them vigorously debate about it all they want, but honestly people, WWGRD, What Would Gene Roddenberry Do? 
I do have some friends that are Trekkie-ish, which enables me to be a bit of a vicarious Trekkie, which I do enjoy the hell out of. I participate by buying these friends the occasional action figure, or toy phaser, or a USS Enterprise model with buttons that make launching photon torpedo sounds and such. I have three words for you Star Trek marketing gurus… Star Trek Legos! They would sell like, like Margaritas in Cancun. Mmmm, margaritas, sigh…
(Note to self, stop by the liquor store on my way home from work.)
Right, so about this vicarious Trekkie thing, this also means that I can watch the television shows and enjoy the movies, well, except for 5, UNLESS, yes there is actually a way to sit through and enjoy Star Trek 5. It’s called RiffTrax. Thanks Mike! Still, all of this enjoyment aside, I don’t really invest in anything more Trekkie than that. I don’t go to club meetings. I don’t know any substantial Star Trek trivia. I mean I know Kirk was a captain and a man-whore, and has the middle initial T. I know that Spock is really Leonard Nimoy, or maybe it’s the other way around. And I know that if some bloke on the away team is sporting a red jumper, I’ll be taking two drinks once he inevitably dies (one of the rules when playing a Star Trek drinking game).
I know some people give Trekkies a hard time mainly because they don’t really get it, but I’d like to point out that they make the extreme acceptable. They gave the people the ok, to dress up and go to movies. I mean Comic-Con would still be a groovy idea that a few guys had one night hanging out in the garage playing their Atari 2600 if it had not been for the clear message of support and success fans continue to give Star Trek. They have helped infect the world with the belief that it’s ok to be an adult and dress up when it’s not Halloween.
Besides, I absolutely love the random and creative discussions that come about as a result of this type of fan participation. Things like, who would win in a fight between a Jedi and a Vulcan. To which I think we all know the answer, neither, because it would be both illogical and in conflict with the way of the force. Granted a Sith and a Vulcan, that is a different story. All I know for sure (which I’m completely making up) is that if that Vulcan were in fact Spock, hands down, that Sith would be Spock’s bitch every single time… no exceptions.
I don’t see this as any than sporting debates and the fanaticism about fantasy football, or any other fantasy sporting events that people obsess about. Personally, I don’t see a lot of difference between a sports hero and a superhero. I mean sure the Flash might be able to steal bases better than Ty Cobb, but my guess is that he probably can’t hit worth a damn. Well, that and one is real person and the other is a fictional character.
So, when it comes to life as a proxy Trekkie, as long as I have friends who are willing to believe and engage, I’m happy to support them with Pez, toys, the occasion Star Trek movie marathon, and, yes, if needed, my personal contribution in helping them down a warp core breach.
Live long and na-nu… or something.
Any of you have your own kind of vicarious fanism?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: warp core breach, Trekkie, Trekkies Spock, and wwrgd.
by Richard Timothy | Feb 4, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
I was initially going to write a bit of a fluff piece today… or at the very least a short, sweet, and to the point piece so I could direct most of my writing time working on editing Chapter 9 of my book. Then, as I imagine everyone does on a rather regular basis, I found myself a little side tracked looking up random things on that series of tubes that the young kids call the Interweb thing. I ended up stopping by to visit the blog of a fellow writer whom I’ve yet to really meet other than a friendly Facebookian hello. Anyway, Kyria Abrahams has a new weekly column on The Faster Times where she reviews gadgets and so forth. You can check out her column here.
As you can read a delightful piece of bemused and amusing observation. Other than wanting to share a fun read, the reason I bring all this up is that her column got me thinking about a few things of the tech variety. It’s not that I’m against technology, I do dig it. It’s mostly, I guess, that I am a bleacher type of fan. I’m not in the middle of it by any means, but I’m close enough to eventually hear about now things and can raise my big spongy #1 finger and yell out, “Yea technology!”
I mean I have a cell phone, but at the same time I’ve made sure to block any and all texting capability from it. I see the pictures of all the new toy and have wonderful friends who stood in line for four hours on opening day for the iPhone release just so they could get one… and then do that gushing Apple euphoria thing that Apple fans do whenever they get a new toy that sports an incandescent image of an apple with a bite taken out of it. I’ve even held an iPhone more than once over the last year, and you know what… they’re cute. Not as cute as a puppy mind you, but cute in the “Ahhh, the little Autobot decided to take a nap.” kind of way.
At the same time I still occasionally listen to my cassettes, and I still take pride in my collection of 27 Elvis cassettes I scored for .25 cents each at a garage sale back in 1994. Oddly though, I might be the only one that takes pleasure in this. I mean if you listen to your 8-tracks you’re considered “old school.” If you still listen to vinyl you’re admired as “retro” or “vintage.” But telling someone you still listen to cassettes, I swear, they look at you like you’re some sort of degenerate that just climbed out of a cave while picking your nose and wiping the leftovers on the front of your shirt. Someday the masses will consider cassette tapes to be more than just burning blocks used to assist in the demise of the ozone layer, but until then I think I’ll keep that little nugget of appreciation to myself… I mean… damn!
The key realization I had while reading Kyria’s article was, and I’m not saying Apple is the only one responsible for this, but it seems that the time of having four remote controls to run all the crap in your entertainment center has sort of evolved and decided you head out of the front door with you every time you leave the house. Instead of four remotes people now have four random devices with them at almost all times. Here’s what I mean:
- A person with their iPhone using a Bluetooth headset so they can take calls and e-mail at the same time. Not to mention the GPS running in the background to help them find the nearest Starbucks. Which we all know is right in front of them on the street corner. All they need to do it look up from their phones screen to see it.
- Then they have their Kindle (but are now secretly obsessing about and pining for the iPad) for reading the Wall Street Journal, or the complete works of Douglas Adams, to which I’d like to point out should really only be read in electronic format on Apple products out of homage the man.
- There is their iPod, attached to the one ear that is not sporting the Bluetooth headset, so they can listen to some newly purchased artist that has yet to be discovered and it absolutely brilliant… while still talking on the phone.
- And finally, there is their MacBook Air, for writing that screenplay they keep talking about while sitting in the coffee shop, talking on the iPhone about the new iPad while listening to their iPod.
Hey Steve… quit it already! Just do us all a favor and just make the equivalent of an Apple iconed universal remote. Some type of universal Apple electronic device thingy so people can avoid having to purchase the new iCrap satchel for all their i… well, crap. Or at the very least give us some iBuprofen to help us deal with the endless “i” onslaught. Or coupons… we’d all dig some discount coupons!
What do all you Appleachians… Appleites… Apple folk think? Oh, and sorry about all the iPuns. Sometimes it’s a little hard to quit once you get going.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Apple, foamy finger, and cassettes.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 3, 2010 | My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Today’s post needs to start off with a defining moment. I am writing about MY notebook and not THE Notebook. If anyone is expecting a write up about that movie… your disappointment may never fully heal. That being said, it’s the subtleties of life that put a smile on my face, well I suppose that and a good bottle of wine… and Bree, and rice crackers, and friends and family, and I’m really not sure why, but randomly yelling, “Woo Packers, Woo!” always makes me smile (probably some deep seeded MSTism)… ok fine, come to think of it there are a number of things that bring a smile to my face. Today though, I had a subtle observation. It was the little note book I always carry with me, where I write down random Smirky… Smirkable? Smirkish?.. Smirk inspired observations, realization, ideas, and inspiration, oh and sometimes the occasional grocery list.
What I found most amusing about it was the cover. It’s of the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing. The little white doughy guy is wearing a scarf and a chef’s hat… and nothing else, saucy little minks. His arms are up in the air, much like an American football referee making the “touch down” sign, or at the very least someone giving the pantomimed reenactment of someone saying, “Yay!” Or, on a closer look, you could say he’s doing the Y for YMCA, which was made popular by all those blokes living in that one village. As I recall they were rather big fans of playing dress up.
Still, apart from the little Y the little pastry man is making, he also has this brilliantly delightful smile on his face. Kind of like he’s been reading want I’ve been putting in my, or would it be his? Nope, never mind he’s just a picture, the notebook is mine. So, it’s like he’s been reading what I’ve been writing in my little notebook of ideas. It might sound odd, but it’s a grand little reminder of my goal as a writer, or as Donald O’Connor would sing, “Make them laugh.”
Then again, it’s pretty easy to get side tracked while looking at that perpetually happy face… things like what kind of evil mad genius decided to give life to a ball of dough, and who was the marketing rep that thought this creation would make a good spokes person for a company’s dough based products. If you really start to think about it, it starts getting a little creepy. This little monster is pimping out his family to be cooked and eaten by unsuspecting humans, and all the androgynous creature can do is laugh as you start chewing on his cousin Sigmund, the croissant that you just pulled out of the oven.
Then the imagery starts changing and you realize that the little guy is clearly insane. He’s always happily encouraging you to eat more and more of his family. And you, hypnotized by the buttery flaky goodness concede to consume more and more… OH THE HORROR!
On a plus note though, he does have the most obvious Achilles’ heel since, well, Achilles I guess. All you have to do is poke the little varmint in the belly and he becomes powerless ball of giggling dough. Plus, his giggle is so infectious that you just want to poke him again and again.
I take it back. The evil mad genius that made this baby Frankenstein type of monster is not really so much of a genius, or all that mad, but definitely still evil. I guess you could say the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing was created by a mildly sprained evil part time inventor… probably the same guy that is responsible for that damn Tickle Me Elmo.
Still, all of that aside, I do get a kick out of having the YMCA Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing being the cover of my notebook of ideas. It starts me in the right direction, with a smile. And in reading back over today’s post… I completely agree… bloody random post. Cheers!
Any insights you’d care to share about the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing? Feel free to share.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Pillsbury Dough Boy notebook, Pillsbury Dough Boy, Village People, and Make Them Laugh.
I’ve started creating a list of things I think I’d be willing to try that I’m typically in opposition to. Things that fall under the “doing it for the experience” chapter of life that I think everyone keeps track of, even if it is just a mental note in the imaginary book of our life. I’m not sure this chapter is ever included in biographies, but I think if they did include it, it would definitely add to any books overall readability.
It isn’t until they are caught they start smiling and giggling again… or crying. I’ve seen plenty as well. The delivery boy did not cry, instead he caught himself. When he realized what he had said he smiled, and explained that I had won two tickets to a Jazz game, who is only professional sports team that Utah has, I think.
Sky diving in bowling shoes was another one of these things to add to my experience list. I dug that one though. I went with my two little sisters. It was Steph’s 18th birthday present to herself. It was good, good day. Trying wine for the first time during my first trip to Italy was another experience for the list that just sort of stuck, which should help explain my affinity for Italian wines. It was in the town of Manarola, in Cinque Terre. Sigh, I love that place. Spending a summer in San Francisco turned out to be one of those “seemed like a good idea at the time” experiences, which landed on the “did it for the experience” list with one of those “disastrous experience” asterisks placed right at the beginning, in bold.
