Next Trip To Vegas, Zero G for $3,500!

A company called Zero G is selling virtually the same experience NASA astronauts get in training for weightless conditions. For just $3,500, you can reserve your seat in G-Force One, a specially outfitted Boeing 727, which flies in parabolic arcs, mimicking zero-gravity on the downturns.

Stephen Hawking recently took his turn…

For the $3,500 you get a 90 minute flight and 15 30-second intervals of zero gravity.

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas…let’s hope it’s not your lunch!

The Stan

The Critical Difference Between Sci-Fi and Fantasy

Due to the request of my reader, I’ve decided to make a post on the important distinction between science fiction and fantasy.

So at the extremely high risk of sounding like a complete and total nerd (which I suppose I am), I’m going to tackle this subject.

In general, sci-fi deals with possibilities based on what we know or can speculate about science and technology. Fantasy is based on medieval superstitions.

That being said, there are many examples of hybrid stories. Take Star Wars, for instance. To a die-hard sci-fi fan, it's not strictly hard science fiction because of the "magic" of using the force. That element is fantasy. Star Trek, on the other hand, while occasionally metaphysical, is more hard science fiction.

It's the difference between science...or speculative science...and superstition or the metaphysical.

Lord of the Rings, then, is pure fantasy. Star Trek is hard sci-fi (for the most part). And Star Wars is mostly sci-fi, with some fantasy elements thrown in.

To dismiss all sci-fi as fantasy is to dismiss the possibility of it ever happening. But that's the whole point of sci-fi...to extrapolate what could be.

Think of all the technological developments of recent decades…personal computers…personal communication devices (cell phones)…cloning…finding planets around other stars…genetic engineering…nanotechnology…advances in robotics…etc.

All of these things were imagined before they were created (or discovered). Indeed, before anything can be invented it must first be imagined. Is this mere fantasy?

Sci-fi writers wrote about submarines before they were invented (Jules Verne). Or about robots decades before they were created (Asimov, Karel Capek who coined the term). Or about trips to Mars and the Moon (Jules Verne, Ray Bradbury, etc.)

Science fiction writers have traditionally been the inspiration for much of our technology and development. Since nerds tend to read science fiction…and those same nerds tend to go into fields such as research science, engineering, medicine, mathematics, etc…(except for this nerd who went into music)…you can see how much science fiction becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy in terms of speculative technology.

Sci-fi writers are the dreamers, the engineers the makers.

But there’s also more to it than that. You see, sci-fi deals with possibilities. Not just technological possibilities, but future history. Extrapolating possible futures based on what is happening now and what has happened in the past.

In this regard, sci-fi can serve as a warning…or a morality play…showing a world that could be if certain trends continue. Think of the classic novel 1984 by George Orwell. It’s a warning. I believe we’re still headed for 1984, but that’s a different story.

Fantasy, on the other hand reaches into the superstitious past…to some type of medieval world devoid of technology but full of magic. Lord of the Rings is a classic example.

I’ve typically preferred sci-fi over fantasy, but with Lord of the Rings being one big notable exception. I also really like the Harry Potter series.

But consider the difference between the two genres. Fantasy is just that. Pure fantasy. Sci-fi, on the other hand engages your mind in possibilities.

Now, keep in mind these are generalizations and aren’t meant to classify every book or movie firmly into one camp or the other. There are many hybrids, and many stories with elements of both.

But for the sci-fi fan, we call books devoid of all fantasy elements as “hard science fiction.” A speculation on what could be…

Dr. Nerdstan

P.S. “Hitchhiker’s Guide,” though a delightful read, can only be considered a sci-fi parody, since there’s very little real science in it.

The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy

Not much happening today. I bought a trash can.

I’ve also been reading The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Five Novels In One Outrageous Volume” by Douglas Adams. I don’t get around to reading fiction (or in this case, sci-fi) all that often—not nearly as often as I’d like to.

Don’t get me wrong, I read constantly. At the moment, I’ve got a pile of marketing and business books that are currently on my to-read list. But every now and then you need some vacuous time. That is, time filled with pretty much nothing.

Not to discount the literary qualities of “Hitchiker’s Guide.” There aren’t many. But it’s a wildly entertaining read. Adams is full of satirical wit poking fun at…well…life, the universe, and everything!

For example, here’s a quote that reminds me of some of my own past experiences. I reprint it here with the express permission of the publishers…which I hope they will give me after the fact…and without me asking…

“Bistromathics itself is simply a revolutionary new way of understanding the behavior of numbers. Just as Einstein observed that space was not an absolute but depended on the observer’s movement in space, and that time was not an absolute, but depended on the observer’s movement in time, so it is now realized that numbers are not absolute, but depend on the observer’s movement in restaurants.

“The first nonabsolute number is the number of people for whom the table is reserved…[etc.]

“The second nonabsolute number is the given time of arrival, which is now known to be one of those most bizarre of mathematical concepts, a recipriversexclusion, a number whose existence can only be defined as being anything other than itself…[etc.]

“The third and most mysterious piece of nonabsoluteness of all lies in the relationship between the number of items on the check, the cost of each item, the number of people at the table and what they are each prepared to pay for. (The number of people who have actually brought any money is only a subphenomenon in this field.)

“Numbers written on restaurant checks within the confines of restaurants do not follow the same mathematical laws as numbers written on any other pieces of paper in any other parts of the Universe.”

I read all of Adams books in high school. But that was maybe 15 years ago. I was an avid sci-fi fan and read many books by Asimov, Heinlein, Niven, all the classic sci-fi greats.

And so I reveal my complete nerdness for all to see.

But I haven’t read a sci-fi book since high school. “Lord of the Rings” doesn’t count because it’s fantasy. Fantasy is a completely separate genre, a fact many fail to distinguish…much to my constant annoyance.

And so I reveal yet another layer of nerdness.

But oddly, a couple of weeks ago I suddenly became nostalgic for a classic sci-fi read. I fear I may be descending back into nerdhood…and after all my hard work to escape from it! Whether I was ever successful at it is up for debate.

And so I re-read Adams. Next on my list is the Mars Trilogy by Ken Stanley Robinson. Man, this is becoming habit-forming!

But like all good habits, it’s enjoyable…of arguable merit…and wastes time and money.

On another note: my legs are not nearly as sore today as yesterday. Which means I was able to walk today.

In fact, I was in so much pain yesterday, I felt…looked…and walked like an old man. A fact Alba was happy to point out every chance she got…

“Hey old man!”

“What’s taking so long?”

“Need a cain?”

Not to mention the sadistic giggles every time I groaned while shifting position on the couch!

What ever happened to tender-loving-care?

So anyway, I bought one of the most expensive trash cans ever today. Cost me $80. Stainless steel with a foot-lever and everything. It’s not one of those automatic infra-red models that cost $200. (How can anyone spend $200 on a trash can?)

Of course, before I hobbled into Bed Bath & Beyond I couldn’t imagine why anyone should spend $80 on a trash can…But when I saw the $200 one, suddenly $80 didn’t seem all that bad.

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me until just after I left the store…but I began wondering if it was some kind of conspiracy.

“Hey,” says a Bed Bath & Beyond executive, “let’s make a trash can that will sell for $80.”

“Eighty Dollars!” exclaims the CEO. “How can we possibly justify that?”

“Well…let’s see…How about we make a $200 trash can so that $80 looks cheap!”

“Brilliant!” says the CEO.

And so it was.

The Stan

Crashing a Quinceanera

Last Saturday, Alba insisted I go with her to this quinceanera. A quinceanera is a Mexican tradition celebrating a girl’s 15th birthday. It’s supposed to be a big fiesta.

I’d never been to one. And oddly enough, neither had Alba. She’s Mexican…but not Catholic. And apparently the quinceanera is more of a Mexican Catholic tradition.

So Alba wanted to go.

Now, here’s the thing: Neither Alba, nor I, knew the girl, or any of the family, or anyone who was to go there.

It turns out this family had invited Alba’s sister, X (name has been changed to protect the innocent), who does tailoring work for them. So basically, they are a casual acquaintance, a customer, of X…and X decided she couldn’t go (a diplomatic way of saying she didn’t want to), so she gave the tickets to Alba.

Alba wanted to go…out of curiosity. And she insisted I go with her.

Now, X told us it was a formal occasion. Formal to me means “tuxedo.” So I don my tuxedo (a relic of my performing days) to go to a quinceanera for a girl I don’t know, for a family I’ve never met, for an event where I will be a complete stranger to everyone…and they’re all Latinos.

I just happen to be white (with medium brown hair and green eyes)…and tall…and weigh 280 lbs.

I point all this out to Alba, whereupon she insists “It will be fine, you’ll blend right in.” I’m dubious, but off we go.

For a white guy it’s a somewhat disconcerting experience being the ONLY gringo in a room of 400 Latinos…Moreover if you’re the tallest person in the room. Mexicans…especially native ones…aren’t known for their height. Just ask Alba.

And of course, due to the misunderstanding of what “formal” means, I’m the ONLY guy wearing a tuxedo.

So considering the fact that I’m the only white guy, I’m the tallest guy in the room, and I’m the only one wearing a tuxedo, there ain’t no way ANYONE missed me, and possibly wondered what the hell this gringo was doing crashing their party.

Fortunately, Latino’s are a friendly race. At least this bunch were.

But once I got over the fact that I stuck out like a big white guy in a tuxedo in a room full of short, dark-skinned Hispanics, I began to relax and enjoy myself.

We were seated at a circular table in a large ballroom, with a Mexican band from Yucatan as the main feature. We were even treated to a performance of the traditional village dance of whatever village this family was from.

There’s something very charming about native traditional dances…the native clothing…the Latin ladies...


I have a weakness for Latin ladies…hence my engagement to a Oaxacan native. But to see beautiful young Latinas in the traditional garb doing the traditional dance. I must say it was a pleasurable experience. Not really erotic, mind you. Just pleasurable.

Apart from the fact that I was in a restaurant ballroom in El Segundo, CA, I felt I could have been in Mexico proper. If you close your eyes, you could easily imagine yourself in a small village square, having a grand old fiesta.

The food was awesome. I love Mexican food anyway, (another reason to be with a Mexican woman), and this stuff was particularly good.

But I couldn’t get over just how expensive this party must have been…and for a 15th birthday! You can’t really equate it with the “Sweet 16” tradition in America. I mean, these people went all out. This was no simple house party. The only thing I can equate it to is a wedding reception…complete with "groomsmen," a "groom," "bridesmaids," and the "dress."

Which is why I felt like a wedding crasher.

Of course, I did the polite thing and congratulated the new 15-year-old. I even met her Mother. And I had some pleasurable conversation with the other guests at our table.

All in all it was an enjoyable experience. Alba was wearing this striped, frilled skirt that showed off her beautiful brown legs. It just so happens I love a pair of beautiful brown legs. Especially hers. And that skirt…man! Get’s me excited thinking about it.

Yes…all in all in was a VERY pleasurable evening!

The Stan

Of Ice Cream...and Six Packs

Since this is my first day back in the Blogosphere, I decided to make it a double feature. Actually, I just felt like writing another post.

I decided this week that I've had enough. I haven't worked out regularly in over three years. I guess love makes you lazy...as opposed to lust, which makes you work hard. I suppose it's the difference between having and wanting. Desire is the mother of all hard work.

But anyway, I've seen my future if I don't change my ways and it looks like this...(see photo) No, that's not me. At least, not yet anyways.

So this morning I started working out with a couple of filled 5-gallon containers of water. (Don't have a gym membership just yet.) They have these convenient little handles on the side which make them look like giant dumbbells.

So I started out with a few lunges and squats with these water-bells...well...

It's amazing how much you use your legs. Walking...standing up...bending down to pick up something...wiping your ass...(that is, if you wipe in a croutched position as I do. I never could understand how any man can do it sitting down.)

Anyway, I'm walking on a wobbly pair of legs today. I mean, even standing up from my chair is like doing another set of squats! I have to keep telling myself: "Come on! You can do it! Just one more rep! Just one!"

I suppose I haven't gone entirely without exercise over the last three years. I do one full situp every day...I do the first half when I wake up in the morning and the other half before I go to sleep.

But I've made my mid-year resolution: I'm going to lose these 80 or so extra pounds of lard I've been cultivating through long hard work...sitting at my desk job.

80 pounds!! In three years!! How did I let myself go so far? I'm as big as I was during my last year in college! And after I'd worked so hard to become a lean mean sexy machine so I could meet someone like Alba!

Well, the late night bowls of ice cream end here, my friends. Bummer...summer's the best season for it! No....must....resist....temptation...

Like my friend Seth, who's finally come to believe Chick-fil-A is evil because of their sumptuously delicious cookies-n-cream shake...I must see my favorite snack (and biggest weakness) for what it is: a concealer of six-packs.

Yep. I've got a six pack. Somewhere underneath all that lard. Just can't see it at the moment...too many bowls of ice cream concealing it. But it's gotta be there...After all, I've done 1,095 sit ups since I've met Alba!

The Stan

Here's To Good Food...And GREAT Sex!

Well, I'm back in the Blogosphere, boys and girls. Not that too many of either will notice. Perhaps one or two of my old friends...perhaps. It doesn't really matter.

I can't really say for sure why I decided to start posting again...Oh, yeah. It was fun. I've realized I like to write. Enough to perhaps call myself some sort of a writer, I suppose. But also enough to make it a somewhat time consuming process to post something. Being a writer means I like to write too much.

So instead of just two sentences about how I ate the Evil Jungle Thai Steak Salad at Houston's (it was awesome), I like to renumerate on it's qualities, speculate endlessly on the complete list of ingredients, describe the jucy bits of steak that were so rare I felt like I was eating steak sushi, etc. But I'll spare you most of the details.

Rare steak used to make me gag. But I suppose since I started liking sushi, rare steak is actually enjoyable now. And when I say rare, I mean RARE. I think they just waved the steak in the direction of the grill before they cut it up and put in my salad. It certainly put me in touch with my inner carnivore.

But the real story that night was not the food...immensely pleasurable though it was. I took Alba out for our three year anniversary.

Three years.

Gone in a flash. And yet, on the other hand it's like we've been together forever.

Not to sound grotesquely romantic and sentimental. It's just strange what a paradox time is. How can time fly, and yet seem like forever? Three years is a long time, and yet it flashes by with barely a notice.

Alba and I have gone from non-stop sex to the more normal 2-3 times a week. Except on certain occasions--perhaps when I eat more rare meat than usual--when it feels like my sexual drive goes into hyperdrive and it's just like old times for a few days.

This week was one of those times. Is it a cyclical thing? Was it just a coincidence that I happened to get horny as a Gila monster during our anniversary week? (Actually, I don't think Gila monsters are all that horny...but it certainly rolls off the toungue better than "horny as a Texas horned lizard.")

So what I'm wondering is...what's the secret to continuous sexual energy? Can I learn to control my appetite such that I can turn it on or off on a whim? Could I just decide that everyday I'd like to have a morning wake-up romp, a lunch-time quickie, and an after-dinner delight?

Hmmm.

Well, at the moment, I don't know. Maybe it's really just a matter of diet and exercise. But I think I'll keep my eyes and ears peeled for more information on this subject.

Siyonara, boys and girls.

The Stan