Paradox. Get it?

Not much about math in this post. Just felt like telling this story…

Today was paradoxical. It was like winter and like summer in one day.

It was like winter, because even though it’s April 17, we woke up to snow. Not much, and it didn’t stick, but it [...]]]>

Paradox. Get it?

Not much about math in this post. Just felt like telling this story…

Today was paradoxical. It was like winter and like summer in one day.

It was like winter, because even though it’s April 17, we woke up to snow. Not much, and it didn’t stick, but it was snow. It had been in the 80′s here a few days ago.

It was like summer, because the cardinal is still banging herself against our window (see previous post). And because the groundhogs are out. How do I know this? Well…

I was having a lovely midday snooze upstairs. My wife was reading a book next to me. I was so tired that I kept mumbling my dreams in my sleep. First my wife asked me what I said, which woke me up, because I hadn’t consciously said anything. But I’d been mumbling something about shooting something in “Law and Order – Special Victim’s Unit.” After falling asleep again, I woke myself up muttering something about the TV program “House.” I guess I’d watched too much TV last night when I should have been sleeping.

At some point I’d fallen into a deep, deep sleep, finally. I was awakened by my wife’s blood-curdling scream. She kept screaming, as I jumped up, still in my underwear, half blind without my glasses, yelling, “What?! What!?”

“There, look over there!”

I couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t even make out which direction she was pointing. She was still screaming as I said, “It’ll be alright!” as I grabbed for my glasses.

There I saw it. It was in our bedroom, on the floor, about 15 feet from the bed. It was an animal. Looked like a groundhog. It was a groundhog. It was not moving when I first saw it.

I had a few seconds to figure out what was going on, when the screaming began again. It was because the thing was moving. It was still alive, and writhing. “It’s coming this way!”

Photo by fauxto_digit

It wasn’t moving too fast, so I ran downstairs, grabbed anything I could as a “weapon” (a mop) and ran back up to shoo the thing away from our bed. All the while running the scenarios through my head, of how this thing could have gotten up to our bedroom.

Obviously one or both about golden retrievers had brought the thing up to our bedroom as an “offer” to us. How sweet. They had done this kind of thing before. The most recent, though, was about three years ago, when Galileo, our oldest, plopped the top half of the rabbit on the rug next to the chair I am sitting in as I write. But we thought their hunting days were over at their age.

I guess these dogs still have some hunt in ‘em.

By now the screaming had subsided and my wife had run downstairs, so I yelled to her to please get a bucket. So she brought me up a big square bucket which I ran over and placed over the now barely moving groundhog. Fortunately there was no blood involved.

Any real danger from the poor little guy was now under control now, as long as I did not let go of the bucket. Mimi (my wife) had a good idea and brought me up a baking pan to slide under the bucket. Then she got me some clothes as I gingerly brought the bucket, baking pan and the there-within trapped marmot downstairs where I set it on a stool.

Mimi then placed her hand on the bucket so I could change into some clothes and put on some shoes. Then she opened some doors for me and I took the poor rodent out to its final resting place, on the outskirts of our property, beyond the electric fence that our dogs supposedly cannot cross.

By this time the little feller (and by “little” I mean a hefty ten to fifteen pounds) was not moving at all, which led me to acquiesce to my cowardice in deciding that I would not have to take measures to put him out of his misery, after all.

Off into the shrubs went the earthly remains of what must have once been a noble groundhog.

Mimi and I discussed the issue, as she drew deep breaths, and we pondered how the heck the groundhog had gotten up there without us noticing anything.

Our first assumption was that both dogs had probably attacked it together. The usual attack method is for one dog to get in front and one dog to get behind their prey. Since both of our dogs are nine years old, they are not quite as fast as they used to be, although our youngest, Maia, is still a rocket. We also assumed that Galileo was the one who brought the groundhog up to the bedroom, because he is the larger of the two, and our firstborn, so naturally the blame goes to him (isn’t that the way it works in most families?)

More likely, is that Maia was the culprit. It turns out that Galileo has a harder time climbing the stairs to our bedroom than Maia. Besides that, from outside the dogs have to get through two doggie-doors to get into the house. Galileo is much larger than Maia, so I don’t think he could fit through carrying a groundhog. Then she had to clamber up the stairs, sneak right past our bed, walk over her bed to the the end of our bedroom where she most probably deposited her prey.

Therefore the likely perp in this episode of “Law and Order –RVW” (Rodent Victims Unit) looks like the disarmingly adorable Maia.

Who? Me?!

In the aftermath, I went up and Cloroxed the floor in the bedroom, as well as the bucket. I think we won’t be using the baking pan anymore, though.

It’s still snowing, and the cardinal is still throwing herself against the window. Life is a paradox.

Now I can go check the electric fence.

Honorable mention to the first person who guesses the name of the smiling doctor in the picture (and why it makes it even more of a paradox). Leave your answer in a comment.

It’s just one of the reasons schools need work.

Get it?

Hotcha,

- Professor Homunculus

As loyal readers know, I am a semi-retired professional magician. I live in rural upstate New York, where there’s not a lot of work for magicians, except at birthday parties, weddings, etc. I’d rather eat a raw frog than perform at functions like that, so I don’t get a lot of gigs up [...]]]>

As loyal readers know, I am a semi-retired professional magician. I live in rural upstate New York, where there’s not a lot of work for magicians, except at birthday parties, weddings, etc. I’d rather eat a raw frog than perform at functions like that, so I don’t get a lot of gigs up here.

So I was happily surprised yesterday, around 2 pm, when Ken, the owner of the Night Eagle Cafe in Binghamton, NY, called me out of the blue, and asked if I would perform that evening as an opening act for Leon Redbone.

Would I open for Leon Redbone? Is 2 a prime number?

It seems that Redbone doesn’t like other musical acts opening for him, and that Ken hadn’t known this until the day of the show. I’d done an open mic at the Night Eagle years ago, and he kindly remembered me.

I was psyched. I have been a fan of Leon Redbone and his eccentric style of jazz/blues/pop/early-twentieth-century music. Here’s a taste:

Click here to view the embedded video.

I dusted off my traveling magic case, restocked a few props, did a quick rehearsal to get the “rust” off, got out a fresh pair of jeans and a sports-coat, and packed the car.

Then I called my wife and told her the news, and she came right home after work, changed clothes, and off we went.

Without time for dinner, we got to the Night Eagle, and prepped and hung around till I went started warming up the crowd with close-up magic at the tables before actually opening onstage.

The Night Eagle Cafe in Binghamton, NY is a great venue, recently moved from Oxford, NY. Ken Millett is the owner and driving force behind the place. If you are anywhere near the southern tier of New York state, check out Larry Coryell with Bombay Jazz at the Night Eagle on Sat., Jan. 26th., 8:00pm. (Admission is $35.)

Audiences at the Night Eagle are great. As you might imagine, a Leon Redbone audience is right up my alley. By the time I’d finished warming up the crowd for the stage part of the act (I’d been my own warm up, in effect) we were all ready for a good time.

I got to do a half-hour of absurd comedy-magic, and if the crowd had anywhere near as much fun as I did (and I think they did), we all had a ball.

There was an intermission, and then “The Man” and his two able accompanists came out. There was a lot of trouble with the microphone (real or imagined – it was hard to tell) and the evening suffered from it, but the music, singing and amazing whistling talents of Leon Redbone satisfied the audience. The place was packed all evening.

My wife got to take some pictures. One of them was backstage of Leon and me.

It was an exciting evening for me, and just one more of the recent experiences that are conspiring to bring me out of semi-retirement. I love magic and performing, and the people you meet when you travel and edify and enlighten with magic.

That’s the news from Central New York,

Hotcha!

Yours truly,

Brian Foley (a.k.a. Professor Homunculus)

Today’s procrastination efforts have lead me to invent this little icon: Can you guess what it stands for?

I’m not [...]]]> Some days, like when it’s going to be hot and humid, and you have palettes of rocks to move to make rock walls, and cords of wood to stack, you procrastinate. (What, you don’t?)

Today’s procrastination efforts have lead me to invent this little icon:

Can you guess what it stands for?

I’m not sure if you’re technically allowed to use different fonts in an icon, but what the heck. It works with plain-text too, but not quite as effectively.

If you’re the first one who can, send me an e-mail and I’ll send you the MathMojo e-booklet of your choice.

Hoskeebo!