February 27, 2008 — 2:26 PM
New Keychain
New keychain
Originally uploaded by tbridge.
Who needs lame-ass dongles when you can slap half a gig of old memory on your keys...
February 24, 2008 — 12:26 AM
Tom Bridge in the dugout
Tom Bridge in the dugour
Originally uploaded by mikehill33.
I took an awesome trip today to be part of the Nationals Super Flush at the new Nationals Ballpark. Sadly, I forgot the memory for my camera, and the best I could do was iPhone pictures.
February 20, 2008 — 3:09 PM
Lolpokercat
More on the online Poker Cats Contest
All I ask is that you click on the lolcat above and give it a good solid rating. I think it's funny as heck, but you can decide I'm only 4 cheezburgers of funny, or even 3. No 2s or 1s, please. Those are for unfunny cats.
February 4, 2008 — 11:21 PM
Asking One Thing
I don't politic much. It's weird being in Washington and totally divorced from the scene. Sure, I have clients who are lobbyists, clients who are lawyers and clients who do graphic design for both sides of the political spectrum, but my involvement is in fixing their computers, not in their policies or politics. It's doubly odd when you think that Tiffany and I both have degrees in political science. We were both drawn to this seat of power, but on arriving, felt that it had become something we could not in good conscience serve.
It wasn't the policies. It was something else. And it put me off Washington for quite a while. It wasn't til I'd lived here a few years that I got to be okay with it all.
But, I suppose, there's at least part of an answer out there. There's definitely something to Change. There's Hope in Change. I fear this nation has seen too much partisan stagnation over the last 20 years. Everyone's only about tearing down the other guy instead of running on a platform. That makes it awful hard to consider any kind of change, as all your energy seems to go into a horrible feedback loop that keeps us angry, afraid and desperate to trash the other guy.
But hope is what we look for. It's what lets us Believe. It's what makes Nations Great. It's what allows us to remove tarnish, to do good works and to lead. It sparks those, like me, who've stood aside as those with zeal, not hope, have bent the nation to their will. It's interesting to watch something like this happen, as I certainly didn't expect to be in the camp of the leftmost candidate.
But here I am.
And here you all are. Please take a second to read Michael Chabon's endorsement of Sen. Obama in today's Washington Post.
It's probably some of the finest political writing I've read in a while. Then go vote.
February 2, 2008 — 2:12 PM
A Morning Of Memory
Jim Holloway was the organist for Falls Church Presbyterian, where Tiff and I sometimes attend. He was the organist who played at our wedding, who accompanied my singing when I was selected to handle a summer service. He was also the director of the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington for close to a decade, a master pianist and organist. He was a kind gentleman of distinction and brought everyone up to his level, even if it took him some time and some coaching.
I remember two mornings with Jim that will forever stay with me. The first was a summer session morning at FCPC, I was singing solo for the service as was often the custom for the time of year. I don't remember quite what it was, he would remember, but he stopped after the first verse of accompanying. He slid to the edge of the bench so I could see him well, and he said in his polite tenor, "Sing. The. Song."
He could tell I was phoning it in for rehearsal. Gave me a moment, and then I sang the snot out of it. "Better," was his only reply. Before his coffee, Jim wasn't a talker in the morning, but you gave him that cup and he would just hold court. I remember some lovely discussions of travel, of cooking, of entertaining and of a life well lived. Jim loved everything he did, and everything he did, he did well.
The second memory of Jim is early in his tenure at FCPC. Gretchen had scheduled the Mass of the Children, a great piece for organ and choir, and we had rehearsed it nearly to death. Gretchen reminded us all on Thursday that there was one service at 10am on Sunday, and our call was 9:15. Be there at 9:15.
So we were. Except Jim. 9:30...9:40... Phone calls were made, and no answer given. 9:55 arrives and Jim comes in cool as a cucumber. Dressed to the nines, relaxed in his usual Southern Gentleman way. Gretchen shot him the look she usually reserves for errant timpanists, and he could tell something was wrong. But Jim got up on the bench and played the organ as he always did, with a graceful flare for the dramatic. When it came time for Reverend Schmid's sermon, he slid off the bench and sat next to Gretchen. He said, we heard later, "I am so sorry I was late, I had heard 10am all week and picked it up as our arrival time. I took my time, brushed my teeth, and I thought I was on time. I did have a lovely breakfast, though."
And with that, he disarmed the ticking timebomb of Gretchen, and all was forgiven.
Jim will be missed terribly by all who knew him, all who love music. Below is the text of the Daniel Gawthrop song that he arranged for the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, that we sang today at his memorial. I hope we did you proud, Jim. We all tried, so hard.
