text:
Location: West End
Salary: £350 day
Date posted: 22.10.2017
HR Professional - Policy creation / Process documentation - Data protection / GDPR I am currently recruiting on behalf of a Private Banking client based in the West End who are recruiting for an...
Location: West End
Salary: £40000 per annum
Date posted: 18.08.2017
Integration Support Analyst - integration, implementation, API, installation, configuration. Customer Service troubleshooting. This organisation is a rapidly expanding technology company providing...
Results: 2 Jobs


text:
'Be' is a verb not a class of verbs, IMO.
What are "be" verbs?
'Be' is a verb not a class of verbs, IMO.
In addition,Originally Posted by Datalife
The verb To Be
am, is, are, was, were, be, been, being
All the best,
Could it refer to verbs like 'be': copula verbs? I've never heard the term and can't find it.
Do you mean linking verbs like, seem, become, and so on?Originally Posted by tdol
Maybe "Be" is a North American term.
I did;I was trying to think of some group that might have that name, not that I've heard it.
copular sounds good. :DOriginally Posted by tdol

subset: commoncrawl


text:
The early concerns over the Sochi Olympics focused on security threats, and for good reason. The IOC, in its wisdom, awarded the 2014 Winter Games to an area of Russia that (a) doesn't get reliable amounts of snow, and (b) happens to be in close proximity to a civil war/rebellion in the Caucasus. So far, things are working out on both fronts, but not without a lot of effort on point (a):
The people in charge of making snow for the Winter Olympics in Russia caught a break over the past two months, when for two periods of about a week each temperatures dropped enough to make good snow, and lots of it.
Over all, their snowmaking machines made enough to cover about 500 football fields to a depth of two feet. Together with some natural snow, that should ensure that the skiing and snowboarding events at the Sochi Games, which open Friday, take place on glistening white pistes, even if rain and warmer temperatures arrive.
"Our goal was to lay down 150 to 175 percent of what was needed," said Jon Wax, a snowmaker from Wenatchee, Wash., who spent December and January working at Rosa Khutor, the Alpine venue for the Games.
The bigger problem now isn't snow or security (at least at the moment), but the infrastructure — especially living quarters. With the games about to start and an avalanche of visitors descending on Sochi, the accommodations seem to hearken back to the Soviet era:
Sportswriters from around the world have begun cataloguing a litany of accommodation-related woes in Sochi, Russia as organizers scramble to finish the construction of some hotels three days before the Opening Ceremony of the Winter Olympics, and two days before some competitions get underway.
Journalists have been trickling into the Black Sea resort town all week ahead of the most expensive Winter Olympics in history. Russia has spent $51 billion making all ready for the 17 days of competition, but organizers admitted earlier last week that three of the nine media hotels were not completed.
The Guardian's Moscow bureau chief Shaun Walker reportedthat when he tried to check into his room at midday Tuesday, he was told by a receptionist, "Your room is still under construction. They are literally finishing, the keys are literally coming now." Three hours later, Walker reported the same receptionist offered him a different room "with no heating, a single bed, and permeated with the odour of industrial glue."
Twitter heard from Chicago Tribune reporter Stacy St. Clair, who may have explained why vodka is very, very popular in Russia:
My hotel has no water. If restored, the front desk says, "do not use on your face because it contains something very dangerous." #Sochi2014
— Stacy St. Clair (@StacyStClair) February 4, 2014
Water restored, sorta. On the bright side, I now know what very dangerous face water looks like. #Sochi #unfiltered pic.twitter.com/sQWM0vYtyz
— Stacy St. Clair (@StacyStClair) February 4, 2014
"Dangerous face water" should be the meme of the year, if you ask me. In fact, as Fox News also links, one sports writer says it's actually worse in Sochi than during the Soviet era:
I visited the Soviet Union in 1991. Then, I could take a shower in my hotel. In Sochi now? Nyet.
— Nick Cotsonika (@cotsonika) February 5, 2014
At least security appears to be better handled than the rest of the infrastructure. McClatchy reports that athletes are breathing a sigh of relief at what looks to be a competent "ring of steel" at the Olympics sites:
Armed soldiers in hooded drab-green parkas stood guard Tuesday at the end of one runway at the Sochi Airport, where Olympic athletes, spectators and foreign dignitaries are beginning to arrive.
A camouflaged anti-aircraft station rests atop a hill nearby the cluster of ice events stadiums at the Winter Games' Black Sea coastal venue.
Sochi is beginning to resemble a police state, and that's just fine with the Olympic athletes, fans and locals.
"I feel pretty good about it, I mean they are trying as hard as they can," said U.S. bobsled pusher Chris Fogt, an Army captain who worked in intelligence and security in Iraq after the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics. "Something happened in Atlanta in '96, it can happen here. You just hope. I think that they are trying their hardest and they are doing everything they can."
British short track speed skater Jon Eley said: "The security is good, not over the top, and we feel safe."
Now if they could just drink the water ….
Update: Speaking of security, don't connect to the wi-fi networks, either:
"As tourists and families of athletes arrive in Sochi, if they haven't been warned, and if they fire up their phones at baggage claim, it's probably too late to save the integrity of their electronics and everything inside them. Visitors to Russia can expect to be hacked. And as Richard Engel found out upon his arrival there, it's not a matter of if, but when," reports NBC's Brian Williams.
Engel says, "The State Department warns that travelers should have no expectation of privacy. Even in their hotel rooms. And as we found out, you are especially exposed as soon as you try and communicate with anything."
"One of the first thing visitors to Russia will do is log on," says Engel. "Hackers here are counting on it."
What a wonderful venue the IOC chose! What's next, Summer Games in Kim Jong-un's gulag?


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Kerry M. needed a new logo design and created a contest on 99designs.
A winner was selected from 55 designs submitted by 26 freelance designers.
Practical eCommerce
I'm Kerry Murdock, the publisher of Practical eCommerce, at http://www.practicalecommerce.com. Our site provides easy-to-follow, down-to-earth articles, podcasts and other content to help small online merchants grow and prosper. Our company is small, with about a half-dozen employees. But, we love what we do, and we want a logo that is stronger and more engaging that what we have, without competing with our content, which is the focus of our site.
Our audience is mainly smaller ecommerce merchants with freestanding websites/shopping-carts that sell products. The average revenue size of our readers' ecommerce firms is approximately $500,000. It is usually one person with a few employees, at most. The audience is web savvy who is making their living from their ecommerce businesses. Our content is straightforward and helpful and we want our logo to follow from that mission.
We are redesigning the top header of Practicalecommerce.com, and the new logo with fit into that new design. Please use the same basic blue scheme as we have now, but color variations are fine, too. Keep the tagline (Insights for online merchants) intact, too. Finally, please keep the specialized treatment with the "m" in ecommerce that we have in the logo now.
The new header of the site will loosely follow what we have on our new site, Ecommercedeveloper.com, and this new logo will fit into that.
The logo should convey that our content is engaging, helpful and easy to understand.
The logo is currently all lower case, but we are fine with upper case for the P in Practical and the E in ecommerce.
Thank you.
Find out how a design contest works or learn more about our logo design services.


text:
Congratulations on getting through finals! It's been a great year, and I want to thank you all for making that happen.
For all of you graduating, an even bigger congratulations to you. Thank you for all of your help during your time with us in the Co-op. I wish you the best of luck with everything that follows. Try to stay in touch; I'd be happy to serve as a reference in any capacity, and it is always good to know where Learning Co-op alumni end up!
For anyone who worked the last week of classes, make sure to get your time in. Your hours need to be in both PeopleSoft and in TutorTrac, or you won't get paid. If you have any questions or issues, let me know.
For those of you not graduating, I hope to see you in August. I will email you all a couple weeks before classes start to announce our meeting. Feel free to contact me over the summer for whatever reason. Please note, though, that I will not be working during the month of July. I may not check my email regularly during that time. I will be here through June, and back on August 1st, however. I hope you all have an excellent summer! I will see in August!
Many thanks,


text:
US stock market slips after record-setting day
NEW YORK (AP) — The U.S. stock market paused Thursday as investors tried to figure out what to do next following the Federal Reserve's decision to hold steady on its stimulus for the economy.
The Dow Jones industrial average and Standard & Poor's 500 index pulled back from their record highs the day before. Gold, historically a haven for nervous investors, had its biggest one-day jump since the onset of the financial crisis in September 2008.
Many investors had expected the central bank scale back its $85 billion in monthly bond purchases, but the Fed said it first needed to see more evidence that the economy was improving.
The question now is whether stocks can continue their strong run-up given the Fed's dimmer outlook on the economy. The stock market is up 21 percent for the year, and 155 percent since a recession low in March 2009. And, after a tough August, the S&P 500 has risen 11 of the last 13 days.
Wednesday's rally extended that surge, but raised a deeper concern for Julius Ridgeway, an investment adviser at Medley Brown, a financial-advisory firm in Jackson, Mississippi.
Ridgeway said the rally showed that investors believe the economy still needs Fed's help, even after more than two years of modest economic growth.
"The market wants the economy to be healthy and on life support, and it can't have both over the long term," he said.
The Fed's bond buying is designed to keep interest rates low, with the goal of stimulating the economy by encouraging borrowing and lending.
Chairman Ben Bernanke and other voting members of the Fed telegraphed throughout the summer that the central bank was considering pulling back on the program, if the economy was healthy enough.
Now, with the Fed delaying its pullback, the market could enter a new period of uncertainty, rarely good for sustaining a stock rally.
The market is back to its mentality in May, when investors were trying to parse every data point from the Fed to figure out what it was planning to do, said Wayne Wilbanks, chief investment officer at Wilbanks, Smith, Thomas in Norfolk, Virginia, who manages about $2.4 billion in assets.
"It was a huge policy mistake," he said.
The Fed also cut its economic growth forecasts for this year and 2014. Bernanke warned that the upcoming debt ceiling and budget fights between the White House and Congress "may involve additional risks to financial markets and to the broader economy."
On Thursday, the Standard & Poor's 500 index fell three points, or 0.2 percent, to 1,722.34. The Dow Jones industrial average slipped 40 points, or 0.3 percent, to 15,636.55.
The Nasdaq composite index rose six points, or 0.2 percent, to 3,789.38, helped by Apple's stock price.
The price of gold surged $61.70, or 4.7 percent, to $1,369.30 an ounce.
The yield on the 10-year Treasury note rose to 2.75 percent from 2.69 percent late Wednesday.
Despite Thursday's minor pull back, September has been great for the market. Stocks are on pace to have their best month in nearly two years.
The Dow set an all-time high of 15,767.93 on Wednesday following the Fed's decision. The S&P also closed at a record high — 1,725.52
However, Wilbanks and other investors believe the market cannot go much higher, particularly with an uncertain earnings season starting in a few weeks and the looming political fights in Washington.
"We're being very careful about U.S. equities," he said.


text:
by Jim Harris
When the roll is called up yonder, there will be a few less parishes from Philadelphia reporting for duty. That's because, like Philadelphia schools, libraries, municipal services and Market Street buildings, some of the city's Catholic churches are disappearing, due in part to money woes and also because of "demographic shifts" (to Brazil and Uganda) in the Catholic population.
Archbishop Charles J. Chaput held a news conference last week outlining the changes. The following parishes have been declared merged, moved or kaput by Chaput:
Our Lady of Everlasting Eternal Abiding Immortal Enduring Infinite Boundless Help and Caring has closed. Our Lady of Mercy is almost out of mercy, and will close soon. Blessed Teresa, Defender of the Poor, is moving to Devon, where there won't be quite so many poor to defend. Parishioners at The Church of the Assumption were flabbergasted when they heard their financially solvent parish was closing. Just goes to show that you should never assume.
These are also the last days for Our Lady of Pompeii, which has merged with Mount Saint Joseph's and St. Helena's to form Mount Saint Helena. St. Joseph the Worker will be moving to Carpenter's Hall, where their motto will be "We'll build a stairway to Paradise, with a new step every day." St. John Bosco has merged with St. Ovaltine's in Hershey, Pa. St. Basil and St. Rosemary have gone into the restaurant business. Holy Cross has absorbed Saint Madeleine's and is now called Double Cross.
St. Benedict's has merged with St. Arnold's to form St. Benedict Arnold. St. John the Baptist is being split in two. Half of the congregation will move to Wayne, where they'll become St. John Wayne. The other half have actually BECOME Baptists (or God forbid, Jewish), which is a much safer emotional investment these days. St. Nemo's in Fishtown will remain open, but only on Fridays. Our Lady of Spain will also remain open, but will discontinue their Accordion Masses.
Some other cost-cutting measures will include strategies like outsourcing the sacraments. For example, confession and penance will now be handled by Traffic Court. Venial sins will require a penance of five Hail Mary's plus a $26 fine and court costs. Mortal sins will result in three black marks on the soul and a six-month suspension of good luck. The Archdiocese will also be doing away with wine at all masses except at St Bernard's, where it will be dispensed only by big dogs from small wooden casks.
The Archbishop also announced that folks who are too poor, old or infirm to make it to services in the new locations will be able to watch televised masses from home. There will also be a new radio station in town, "WGOD, All Saints, All the Time."
Additionally, parishioners left high and dry (mostly dry) will receive consolation prizes including "Catholicism, The Home Game." It comes with dice, a gold-plated playing board, incense and collection boxes. Hours of fun for the whole family. All of this was of little "consolation," however, for members of Our Sister-in-Law of Consolation and the other churches that closed.
Folks entering those churches last Sunday were met with the following declaration pinned to the churches' front doors: "Dear parishioners, Goodbye and Amen. Here's hoping we meet now and then. Jesus has left the building. This time, unfortunately, He won't be coming back. Please return to your homes, but don't forget to drop a coin or two in the poor box before you go. Needless to say, there will be no more holy days of obligation in this neck of the woods. Good luck!"
On the cosmic scene, hell has been closed (whew!); Purgatory has merged with Limbo, and Heaven will only be open on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays as well as one Saturday a month. Govern yourselves accordingly, and may God have mercy on us all.


text:
11:30 am
Sid The Science Kid "The Perfect Pancake" Sid wants to know how his Grandma always makes perfect pancakes. They're never too squishy or burnt. At school, Sid makes an important discovery -- heat changes things! This lesson reveals the secret of Grandma's pancakes: she heats them on the stove for the perfect amount of time . D
12:00 pm
Super Why! "The Muddled-Up Fairytales" Everyone is busy and Whyatt doesn't know what to do with himself! So Super Why and his friends fly into the story Muddled Up Fairytales where they visit a young dragon new to Fairytale Land who is eager to find a legend of his own. But when Dragon tries to move in with The Three Pigs, he sets off a wacky chain of events that turns the whole land upside down! The superhero readers need to help Dragon find his Happily Ever After! Educational Objectives: To learn the fun of creativity, explore the alphabet, practice the magic of spelling, and use the power to read to create a brand new story!. D
12:30 pm
Caillou "Can Do Caillou" Caillou Roller Skates: Caillou wants to learn how to roller skate. until he realizes roller skating is very difficult. With a little help and guidance from his pre-teen friend, Daniel, Caillou decides to keep practicing, so his skills will improve - just like Daniel's did! Educational Objective: Perseverance; the importance of practicing skills in order to improve. D
1:00 pm
Thomas & Friends "Helpful Friends" Charlie & Eddie - Edward wants to show Charlie that he is a really fun engine instead of doing his job. Edward races off to the tracks telling Charlie jokes. A big mistake occurs when Edward takes Sir Topham Hatt's car to the Steam Works by mistake, but Kevin doesn't know how to fix cars, only steam engines. D
1:30 pm
Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood "A Snowy Day/Tutu All The Time" A Snowy Day: It's snowing in the Neighborhood! Miss Elaina is coming over to Daniel's house to play in the snow. When it's time to go outside, Mom Tiger helps Daniel change out of his pajamas into clothes that will keep him warm and he learns how important it is to choose the proper clothes. Tutu All the Time: Katerina is wearing her favorite sparkly tutu at school today! She likes to wear it all the time, even when she's painting and playing "grizzly bear" with her friends. D
2:00 pm
Curious George "George Buys A Kite/Train of Light" Curious George Buys a Kite - After a gust of wind destroys their kite, George and Bill are determined to buy the Ultimate Kite on display at Ada & Luke's country store. Luckily, Bill & George's Excellent Job Service finds enough work to keep their weekend schedule filled with money making chores--until rain prevents the duo from completing their outdoor tasks. Can their precise schedule be rearranged to do the inside chores while it's raining and complete the outdoor tasks when it's sunny or will Bill and George's Excellent Job Service go out of business? Train of Light - During a trip to Mabel's Department Store, George helps wrap presents, watches himself on TV, rides the escalator, and becomes fascinated by a lamp that casts a shadow of a moving train onto the wall. D
2:30 pm
Martha Speaks "Que Pasa, Martha/TD Is Talking Dog" Que Pasa, Martha - Senor Craig expects everyone to present an oral report in Spanish, and Alice is a nervous wreck! With the help of Martha and some Mexican alphabet soup, she aces her presentation, but did she actually deserve her grade? Vocabulary: (E) recite(d), memoriz(ed)(ation), bilingual, pronouc(e) (iation), articulate (I) speech, oral, aloud, voice, remember. TD Is Talking Dog - Inspired by an old Tarzan-style movie, TD decides to learn animal languages and become an animal linguist. Under Martha's tutelage, he begins his lessons. D
3:00 pm
Peg + Cat "The Mega Mall Problem/The Cleopatra Problem" The Mega Mall Problem - The Mega Mall. Peg and Cat search the enormous Mega Mall for the teens so they can all enter the Zebra Guy dance contest. Primary Content: Attributes of objects; Secondary Content: Maps. D
3:30 pm
WordGirl "Highway to Havarti/Tiny Big" Highway to Havarti - The Botsford Family vacation gets diverted when Becky discovers that Dr. Two-Brains is going to be performing his latest heist at the International Cheese Exposition. Tiny Big - Mr. Big manufactures the ultimate teen idol, Tiny Big, to steal WordGirl's thunder and brainwash the town into spending all their money on pop star merchandise. D
4:00 pm
Wild Kratts "Googly-Eye: The Night Guru" The Kratt brothers secretly "borrow" Aviva's half finished night vision goggles to go in search of a mysterious nocturnal creature. But when the unstable goggles stop working, the brothers find themselves taken in by the nocturnal society of the tarsier. As they investigate, the Wild Kratts team discovers that nocturnal creatures only come out at night and learn that eyes help a creature see by collecting the light that comes from objects all around. D
4:30 pm
Cyberchase "Codename: Icky" The kids devise a series of codes to trick Hacker while searching underwater for a cyber-slug.G
5:00 pm
Fetch! With Ruff Ruffman "Socket to Me" Sam and Sammy work on helping Ruff decrease his electricity consumption while Harsha and Noel get singing lessons and have to perform.LIVE!. D
5:30 pm
Nightly Business Report Tonight on Nightly Business Report, Fed Chair Janet Yellen tells Congress the economy has shown recent signs of weakness. We have her outlook and what it might mean for your money. And, Best Buy returns to a profit. D
5:56 pm
NewsHour Promo NULL
6:00 pm
PBS NewsHour NULL
7:00 pm
Doc Martin "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" Martin and Louisa host a disastrous dinner party, the new nanny walks out, and Morwenna advertises for a lodger.G
8:00 pm
Outdoor Idaho "Canyonlands Calling" Cameras roam desert expanses, narrow canyons, mountains and rock formations of the southwest corner of Idaho. Participants reveal how eight years of collaborative effort among many interests can culminate in the federal Owyhee Initiative that includes many uses, including designated wilderness.G
8:30 pm
Art Wolfe's Travels to the Edge "The Making of Travels to the Edge" In this behind-the-scenes peek at travel with a photographer, Art and his small crew venture through the remote kingdoms of Bhutan and Nepal.G
9:00 pm
Midsomer Murders "Ghosts of Christmas Past, Part One" Barnaby looks forward, with reservations, to entertaining his in-laws for Christmas. Meanwhile, exactly nine years after the suicide of Ferdy Villiers, his family and their guests arrive at the somewhat dilapidated Villiers home to celebrate the season. But someone among the Villiers family seems too aware who is hiding dark secrets. Part 1 of 2G
10:00 pm
Vera (Apt) "A Certain Samaritan" DCI Vera Stanhope investigates the murder of 29-year-old Niall Coulter while his closest associates are intent on obscuring the truth. While coping with revelations from her own past, Vera sifts through evidence of the grief, love, and addiction that characterized Niall's life.G
11:30 pm
Charlie Rose NULL


text:
COLUMBUS, OH (WOIO) - Arguments have just been filed with the state Supreme Court to save the life of serial killer Anthony Sowell.
Sowell killed 11 women, kept the bodies in and around his home, and he now sits on death row.
The new arguments don't pretend he didn't do it. In fact, appeal attorneys say his guilt is a "given." However, they argue his is "not dangerous" in a prison setting, and he should be taken off death row and allowed to live in prison.
The appeal criticizes Sowell's trial attorneys--saying they should have focused on convincing a jury to give him life in prison instead of trying to convince the jury he was not guilty.
A separate appeal is pending in Cuyahoga County Court.
Copyright 2012 WOIO. All rights reserved.


text:
JARRATT — Johnathon Montgomery said the first hint of freedom came late Tuesday afternoon.
A prison guard brought a set of civilian clothes to his cell at the Greensville Correctional Center, and said it "was time to pack up my stuff."
"I said, 'Am I being released?'" he said, though the guard didn't answer directly.
"It was like there was a surprise party. Everybody knew about it before I did."
Then, at 5:15 p.m., Gov. Bob McDonnell called Montgomery and told him he was granting him a conditional pardon. The governor apologized for the injustice that has kept him locked up for the past four years.
The pardon, granted less than 24 hours after it was filed, allowed for Montgomery's immediate release about a month after his accuser admitted she lied in 2008 when she claimed Montgomery sexually assaulted her eight years earlier.
"It is a travesty of justice when an innocent person is confined in a jail or prison, and it should never occur in our society," McDonnell said in a statement Tuesday. "Tonight I called Johnathan to personally offer, on behalf of the citizens of the Commonwealth, our heartfelt apologies for all that he has been put through due to this miscarriage of justice."
VIDEO: Johnathon Montgomery speaks immediately after his release.
McDonnell then called Montgomery's mother and father. His father, an appliance repairman in North Carolina, missed the call because of a company policy that prohibits him from picking up his cell phone while driving.
"He left a message that basically said he was sorry that it happened ... and that John's coming home," David Montgomery said.
'Tragically delayed'
Johnathon Montgomery received an $80 check from the prison canteen fund. From 6 p.m. on, he waited for his mother, family friend Pam Cross, and a staff member with the Hampton public defender's office. They arrived just before 8 p.m.
"It feels awesome," he said as a crisp wind blew along the road leading into the prison. "It's a great feeling. ...You don't know what is lost until you've lost it."
He looked forward to talking to family members whenever he wanted and doing the "normal things that people take for granted."
"It's beginning to be over," said his mother, Mishia Woodruff. "I'm so happy to have him out. There was a lot of anxiety getting here. I was anxious, excited, all that stuff."
When she first saw him in the prison, she said, she almost didn't recognize him in his civilian clothes. "He'll always be my baby," Woodruff said.
As for what they would do now, she said: "He's got decisions made for him for the past five years, so he gets to make decisions and call the shots. He's a grown man."
After his release he planned to go to a restaurant in Newport News for pizza, then check in with his probation officer. Under his pre-approved release plan, he was expected to stay Tuesday night with Peggy Cameron of the Hampton Public Defender's Office, at her home in Newport News.
Though he is not "restricted in movement," Cameron said, Montgomery must get approval to travel out of the state. State officials are considering a plan that would allow him to travel to his father's home in North Carolina for Thanksgivng.
"My dad has a cute little dog, and I can't wait to get to his house and hold that dog," he said. "I have a cat that I haven't seen in four years."
He plans to go to Best Buy and purchase a Bluetooth device, and to see the new "Twilight" movie.
"This situation has been a tragedy," McDonnell said in his statement. "An innocent man was in jail for four years. While tonight Mr. Montgomery is free from prison, he will never get those years of his life back."
"I am thankful that the witness in this case finally stepped forward to recant her testimony. Justice, while tragically delayed, has been served."
As Montgomery put it: "I didn't realize it until three or four days ago, but the truth sets you free, and it has been the force for freedom in my case and in other people's cases."
Pardon process
The Mid-Atlantic Innocence Project, based in Washington, D.C., emailed the petition for conditional pardon late Monday.
"The petition was filed at 9:11 p.m. (Monday) with the governor's staff," said Shawn Armbrust, the Mid-Atlantic Innocence Project's executive director. The petition was eight pages, and included trial and sentencing transcripts, in addition to Hampton police documents and an email from Commonwealth's Attorney Anton Bell supporting the release.
Under the conditional pardon, Montgomery, 26, was released from custody while a separate petition — for a "writ of actual innocence" — wends its way through the Virginia Court of Appeals in a process that could drag on for months.
In 2008, Montgomery was convicted of the sexual assault eight years earlier of a 10-year-old girl. Montgomery was 14 at the time the assault was supposed to have occurred. His accuser, Elizabeth Coast, now 22, recanted her testimony last month.
Coast said she made up the story as a way to deflect her parents' anger after she was caught searching for sexually explicit websites online. She explained that she picked Montgomery as her attacker because she knew his family had moved away to Florida and she didn't think police would be able to find him. Instead, police tracked him down in Florida and arested him.
Coast, who until earlier this month worked as a civilian information clerk for the Hampton Police Division, is being charged with perjury.
Before Coast came forward, Montgomery was expected to serve another 2 1/2 years on what was originally a 7 1/2-year sentence.
Montgomery's lawyer, Hampton Deputy Public Defender Ben Pavek, filed a motion on Nov. 1 asking for a court order overturning the conviction.
That motion, strongly backed by Commonwealth's Attorney Anton Bell, was granted on Nov. 9 by Circuit Court Judge Randolph T. West, who was the trial judge in 2008.
Later in the day, however, the Attorney General's Office blocked Montgomery's release, saying West didn't have the authority to act. The Attorney General's Office contended that under state law, state courts could not reverse a verdict more than 21 days after a trial verdict.
Montgomery will remain on probation. The full terms of the release terms were unclear late Tuesday, including his status as a registered sex offender.
The governor said he issued the conditional pardon after his office reviewed court documents, and listened to a recording of a recent interview with Coast. The petition package included a letter from Bell saying that Montgomery "is an innocent man, falsely imprisoned as a result of false accusation and perjured testimony."
In her discussions with the governor's office, Armbrust said she alerted the governor's staff that Montgomery does not have family or friends in Virginia. Requiring him to remain in Virginia could be a burden on his parents, who live in North Carolina and Florida.
A local appellate attorney, Charles Haden, explained that a pardon is not an admission by the state of a wrongful conviction, but only a forgiveness of the punishment under humanitarian or extenuating circumstances. Haden said he wouldn't be surprised if keeping him in Virginia were a condition of release.
"If he moves to California and doesn't do anything to file a writ of actual innocence" then you could have "a real mess" trying to extradite him back.
"It's certainly preferable for Mr. Montgomery that he gets released from prison sooner rather than later," Haden said. A provision that he stay in Virginia is "certainly preferable to remaining incarcerated while waiting for the Court of Appeals to act."


text:
Moderators: Three Stars, dagny, pfim, netwolf
Gaucho wrote:Looks like Arsenal is the only suprise entry in the quarterfinals. Then again, it's only Real... still, with Arsenal struggling lately this is kinda unexpected.
Admin wrote:Arsenal is a bit more than a surprise. Did you catch the line-up they trotted out against Real?
That was a great victory but watch them lose 2-0 in the return leg...
Rob UK Pen wrote:I can see Arsenal scraping through.
Admin wrote:I hope you're right but after years of watching Arsenal struggle in the Champions League I'm not counting on it.
How serious do you think the Henry transfer rumors are? Vieira is one thing but Henry... I don't want to think about it.
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text:
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May 2-9 Podcast
The Rev. Daniel J. Coughlin discusses his eleven years as chaplain of the U.S. House of Representatives.
April 14 marked the last day of Father Daniel J. Coughlin's tenure as chaplain of the U.S. House of Representatives. Fr. Coughlin was the first Catholic priest to serve in that role, and he held the position for 11 years. Here he speaks about some of his most difficult moments as chaplain, notably the tragedy of 9/11 and the shooting of Arizona Congresswoman Gabriella Giffords. He also asks for the prayers of all people of faith for both the chaplain and the members of the House, whom he argues approach the duties of their office with moral seriousness. Scroll to minute 4:39 to hear Fr. Coughlin's comments on the controversy surrounding denying communion to pro-choice Catholic politicians: "One of the saddest stories I heard and experienced," he says.
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UPDATED 7:20 pm - Bill Guerin took warmup, but now is not on the ice. Islanders playing with just 17 skaters. Stay tuned.
7:10 pm - League sources told Point Blank on Saturday that interest in available Islanders veterans continues to increase. The trade talk has now intensified to the level that one source described the likelihood of the Islanders making at least one significant trade before Wednesday's deadline as "more than 90%."
As tonight's game against Buffalo began, the Islanders were said to be contemplating several packages for their sought-after veterans.
The veterans atop the wish lists are captain Bill Guerin, defensemen Brendan Witt and Radek Martinek, and injured center Doug Weight. While - we repeat - the Islanders may not bring back the level of return from their trade of Chris Campoli to Ottawa for a late first round draft pick - there is major momentum toward the completion of another transaction or two for Team Rebuild.
When even a franchise like St. Louis - currently on the outside of the Western Conference playoff picture - declares itself a "buyer" at the deadline, it paints a definitive picture of why the Islanders offices have become a popular spot to make trade offers. There simply are not many "sellers" for the scavengers to hunt for meat. Besides the Islanders, the only clear-cut sellers are Atlanta, Tampa Bay, Ottawa, "descending rapidly" Toronto, Colorado and Phoenix.
The Coyotes may not host a veterans garage sale, but they are well aware of the haul that could come with the trading of ace center Olli Jokinen. The Florida Panthers are not sellers in the traditional mode, but they are very open to trading Jay Bouwmeester because they will lose the all-star defenseman on July 1 for nothing.
sleep 5The Islanders have plenty to sell. Besides Guerin, Witt, Weight and Martinek, other Islanders in play include potential UFAs Andy Hilbert and Dean McAmmond, simmering goal scorer veteran grinder Jon Sim and goaltenders Yann Danis and Joey MacDonald.
If the Islanders were blown away by offers by popular heart-and-soul forwards Trent Hunter and Richard Park, they would be forced to listen.
But attracting the most interest, of course, is the Islanders' trio of experienced and accomplished leaders. Deals for Guerin and Witt could help the Islanders obtain additional early-round draft picks. The knee injury to Doug Weight has not derailed requests for the services of the playmaking center. A deal involving a conditional third or fourth round pick that escalates with each playoff series victory remains a strong possibility.
The NHL trade deadline is Wednesday, March 4.
sleep 5POINT BLANK TRADE PRIMER
Saturday, February 28
The key Islanders most likely to be dealt, in order of likelihood:
1. Bill Guerin
2. Radek Martinek
3. Andy Hilbert
4. Brendan Witt
5. Doug Weight


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Politicians took pictures on their cell phones, whistled and gaped as House Speaker Michael E. Busch introduced a "very special guest." He said that unlike Phelps, lawmakers are not "great swimmers … but they all know how to tread water very well."
Addressing the House of Delegates, a somewhat nervous-seeming Phelps smiled and said it "feels good to be back home" in Baltimore, causing the Baltimore delegation to leap to its feet.
On the way between the House and Senate, a gray-suited Phelps fielded a question from a reporter on the issue of the day: fear that the Preakness Stakes could be sold out of state under a bankruptcy auction.
Phelps, who has been known to enjoy a party, said that he has never been to the second jewel of the Triple Crown at Pimlico and hopes to attend this year.
"To have it leave Baltimore, I can't really see that happening," he said, adding that such a turn of events "would be devastating."
While Phelps was being lauded on the Senate floor by Baltimore County Sen. Jim Brochin for the swimmer's generosity to his fans, a group of admirers - mostly women, many gussied up - stood in the lobby waiting for a sliver of that generosity.
They were upset to learn from security moments later that Phelps had left through a side door.


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Liverpool defender Danny Wilson has joined Hearts on loan
Hearts have completed the season-long loan signing of Liverpool defender Danny Wilson.
Last Updated: 18/01/13 6:57pm
The SPL had just come out of a transfer embargo, and they have moved quickly to bring in Wilson.
Hearts have now confirmed that Wilson had joined on a six-month deal and could play against Clydesdale Bank Premier League champions Celtic on Saturday.
The former Rangers defender has struggled to win a first-team place at Anfield and has spent time on loan at Blackpool and Bristol City since leaving Ibrox in July 2010.
Hearts boss John McGlynn was delighted to seal his signature, telling the club's website: "Danny is a quality player and someone we know a lot about.
"Even at such a young age, he brings a lot of experience and not only will he be a very good addition to our squad, he will be a good influence on the young players we have here.
"He has been playing regularly down south so fitness won't be a problem and hopefully it won't be long before we see him in a Hearts shirt."


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:There was a muffled rustle, something falling, and a sudden gasp.
From between the racks and the legs of people, I spotted a pair of feet, toes upward. Someone had fallen, although that seemed impossible given the clientele of this upscale store a stone's throw from Michigan Avenue in the heart of Chicago. Everyone, customers and staff, looked no older than 45 and fit enough to run a 5K at a moment's notice.
Surely, someone would spring into action, administer mouth-to-mouth and then step back when first responders rushed through the front door.
I looked around. My daughter, Diana, was lost in the crowd, pushing through racks of tight woven clothing that looked like it would cling like a second skin. In fact, some of the staff modeled the merchandise. There wasn't much left to the imagination. They were showing off toned muscles, flat stomachs and everything else that was properly proportioned.
The thump, thump of the music didn't miss a beat. A lean blonde, wearing black tights with sweat glistening on her face, continued circling her arms above her head as she performed a split in the display window. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her from inside the store – they were too intent on the clothing. Those on the sidewalk gave glances but didn't stop. I guess pretty women performing yoga in the center of town is not uncommon in Chicago.
In the meantime, the feet pointing up from under the racks didn't move. To my amazement, someone stepped over them. There was no effort to help, especially in a post-Christmas sale.
"Some sale," I thought. The tag on a pair of pants showed $102 marked down to $89, a whopping 10 percent. Yet the store was packed with people lined up at the register and much longer cues to get into three changing rooms.
A woman in robin egg blue tights with a black and white wool striped ski hat and fur topped boots, who looked like she had stepped out of an upscale vodka ad, cruised among the masses.
She was effective. Customers kept asking her questions. Maybe she would start doing yoga at any moment. She didn't.
There was some more rustling. Finally someone noticed the body beneath the racks.
The headless body lifted from the floor by one of the staff shocked no one. A mannequin had been pushed over by the shoppers and was being slid back into the window display, not far from the girl who continued to do yoga. This is not what I expected when Diana said she wanted to go shopping as a Christmas gift.
"You want to go where?" I asked for the second time.
"Lululemon," she said.
I had never heard of the store, but then I'm not hip to the style, or, for that matter, the fitness scene.
That was part of the lure for Diana. Lululemon is not found in Jackson, Wyo., where she lives. There was another, more compelling reason for me to fly to the Windy City for the weekend. Diana and her daughter Natalie were there, as was my son Jack, his wife Jennifer and their two children. Lululemon was just a momentary diversion. But what a great perspective on the up and moving young set and a limited view of the local economy.
"They can't take the money fast enough," said a young man who assumed a stance of patience beside me. We were both in front of a display about a collection of yoga classes, or sessions, or whatever you call them. It was one of the few places where people weren't frantically pulling shirts and pants off racks and even stripping down to their underwear to try things on.
Steve, my newfound companion for this trip to Lululemon Land, worked in "IT" (information technology).
"I should have bought stock in this company," he said. In fact, he proceeded to tell me, if he had just heeded what brands his wife bought and invested in those companies, he'd be able to afford her shopping forays.
His wife appeared from the throng. She was wearing heavy lipstick and a tan down parka with a fur collar. Steve looked at her hands and saw they were empty. He looked relieved.
"Couldn't find anything she would like," she announced. Steve told me she was looking for a gift but had suspected she was really shopping for herself.
"I love this place," she said.
He rolled his eyes.
She disappeared among the racks again.
Moments later, Diana emerged from the changing room with a pair of pants that looked no bigger than a sock.
"That's it?"
"Really didn't find anything else," she answered.
Steve flashed me a look, as if I just escaped being run over by a Mack truck. He looked positively envious.
"I think you need a shirt, too," I said.
Steve looked at me incredulously. Diana picked up the cue and instantly went into shopping mode. I just smiled.
I can't wait for a Lululemon to open in Warwick. That would be proof positive that the economy is on the rebound; even better, that Diana will be visiting.


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What do ghosts look like?
Posted 06 April 2008 - 06:17 AM
I never want to see a ghost, at least not yet. But I am curious. Tell me about your experience!
Posted 06 April 2008 - 07:37 AM
I do want to add that my experience says that spirits do not look like what you see in the movies. I have never seen a glowing blue shape, etc. You have to remember that movies are intended to make the parties involved in the production of them a huge amount of money. If they made movies about ghosts that were exactly as they seem in real life, the movies would be rather mundane for the most part. A person's memory can fade or change slightly with time, and our perceptions are always effected by such things as our upbringing, our environment, and so on. This is why I advocate journaling - so that later on you can refer back to what you described and correctly remember what you saw/experienced.
Posted 06 April 2008 - 01:10 PM
Posted 07 April 2008 - 06:43 PM
It all depends on how the spirit can be or wishes to be viewed.
Posted 10 April 2008 - 10:20 AM
Posted 10 April 2008 - 10:54 AM
The only hollywood movie that ever had anything that I have seen the same thing as is Ghost. You know those creepy black things? I've seen things that look, act and sound fairly like they're depicted in that movie. I darn near fell out of my seat when I first saw them in that movie (and yes, they scared the bejeebers out of me in real life and up on the screen). Nothing else in the movie or any other movie or television show relates to an experience I've ever had... especially how all of a sudden the temperature drops to the point that you can see one's breath before a manifestation occurs.
Posted 10 April 2008 - 11:12 AM
The only ghost I have "seen" looked to be completely solid, but it was dark so it's tough to say.
The list of reported visual sightings range from mists and orbs to fully solid looking people. Some people have even reported being in complete physical contact with what would be considered a ghost.
Psychic people of different "sensitivities" also may "see" ghosts and spirits. But this is not necessarily on the visible light spectrum that many people report seeing ghosts (I mean seeing them as plain as day like anyone else you would see).
There's plenty of debate on whether you are truly seeing an optical representation of the light that a ghost produces/bends/uses or if what you are seeing is a pyschic representation in your own mind... one the ghost/spirit is giving to you to interpret. I tend to think it's a bit of both. I also tend to think Psychics of differing types can also "see" ghosts/spirits in a manner many people cannot. That being not some optically represented image.
The actual list of how ghosts have been seen is pretty long:
Flashes or flickers of light
ecto-like forms
grey mists
Black formless shapes or mists
Shadows on a wall
Partially transparent forms
Fully transparent forms
Solid human or other living creature forms
etc etc.... the list goes on.
I do however think some of these forms can be explained by the natural or otherwise mundane. Mists for one, could be created through the use or presence of unfra sound. Jiggle those eyeballs enough and you can start seeing things. Orbs or orb like visions could range from things on your eyeball to other vision problems.
Also keep in mind that some people are not as talented as others when comes to describing what they see. Unless you can see exactly what the person is describing, it's hard to tell if it could be mundane/natural. Then again, if we could see what others experience.... well think of the possibilities, lol.
After all of that babbling I put everyone through, the answer is pretty simple. They could look like practically anything.
Posted 10 April 2008 - 01:08 PM
I've had to experiences with actually seeing an entitity. One was out the corner of my vision, but it was solid. A little kid. The other time was Solid standing on the other side of a closed door(Mostly Glass). They were inside my house, I was on my porch smoking a cigarette.
Actually I have seen a shiloutte before also.
Posted 10 April 2008 - 03:52 PM
He swore he saw her sitting in her old chair, and he even had an 20 minute long conversation with her. When he got up to get something to eat, she vanished right before his eyes. It freaked him out, as he realized she had passed away over a month before that day.
I've seen her in many different shapes - she prefers full apparition rather than a solid one. Sometimes I just "sense" her when she visits.
Posted 10 April 2008 - 04:39 PM
My last experience, I saw a solid figure. It was a girl probably 12-14 years old. She was sitting at the edge of my bed. When I woke up, turn over to the edge, I saw a girl just sitting there. As I woke up, she stood up, and slowly walked to the door and vanished. I wasn't scared for some reason.
Posted 12 April 2008 - 08:02 PM
gettin' it done everyday
Posted 12 April 2008 - 08:40 PM
Don't know if this is the right section. Though I should because I've used this site so long lol. But I was wondering what ghosts look like. I know that can look like flashes of light and all, but what about when you see full figures? Do they look like they do in the movies? Do they glow with blue or white edges? Are they sometimes solid? Do they have color to them?
I never want to see a ghost, at least not yet. But I am curious. Tell me about your experience!
I have only once seen what might have been a ghost and it looked like a person.
I think they probably appear in many forms a manifestation or a means of a physical representation or resemblance so they can be observed , while not being observed i think they are invisible at least while in this dimension.
Posted 12 April 2008 - 11:03 PM
Thinking about what I'd seen that night, I can't remember if I'd seen her entirely, or partially. I don't recall if she had legs or anything like that. I basically looked at her face and eyes.
Now...whether or not what I'd seen was actually "a ghost" or the embodiment of my mother's spirit, manifest as an image that had brought me comfort as a young boy...who knows? I'm sure she was there. I'd heard it explained that it was my mother's way of showing me that she'd be behind me on my journey through life. That sounds like a pretty good explanation, to me!
Beannacht ort
Posted 13 April 2008 - 01:16 AM
I'm sorry that your mom passed away, but now you know that she is with you when you really need her.
Posted 16 April 2008 - 05:43 PM
thanks for the input
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Here are just a few of the many workshops and activities at Seattle Mini Maker Faire 2012!
Cascades Science Center Foundation is a non-profit foundation dedicated to sparking children's interest in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) through hands-on activities that stimulate creativity, encourage exploration and inspire active learning for children to unlock their full potential. At the Seattle Mini Maker Faire, the kids will have an opportunity to participate in fun science activities led by the volunteers of the foundation.
The Joy Guild is a village of creative-minded people who seek fun, playfulness, and inspiration to live a happy life. Our programs encourage exploration through an artist's lens and learning-by-adventure. We're excited to be part of the creative reuse movement, turning found objects, scraps, and seemingly useless materials into something new and functional, instead of adding to an ever-growing landfill. Take our Creative Reuse Challenge to build your own guided art project—from toys to textiles to trimmings.
Join the Craft Mob at the Sharecraft booth! We'll be re-purposing old t-shirts to make new, usable tote bags which will be donated to a local charity. Or for a donation, you can take the tote bag home with you! Bring your favorite old t-shirt, or shirts that your kids have outgrown, and repurpose the fabric, the graphics and the images on the shirt to make a keepsake tote bag!
Learn to solder, or refresh old skills with the soldering iron at the Solder Station! Multiple vendors will sell kits and projects at Seattle Mini Maker Faire. Have a seat at the Solder Station and one of the knowledgeable volunteers will help you get started. Volunteers at the Solder Station come from many local hacker spaces including Jigsaw Renaissance, Emerald City Makers, and more!
Make your own rocket out of paper and tape, then launch it into the air with pneumatics! Yeah, that's right, pneumatics!
We are Ashley and Penny, and we are Hula Hoop enthusiasts. We have created Inspinity to share our sport with the world! When kids and adults of all ages see our colorful hoops they are entranced with curiosity and compelled to join in the fun of hula hooping. It is such a fun activity you can do almost anywhere if you have enough room, and whether you can do tricks or just enjoy a core work out, hula hooping can be enjoyed by anyone. Our passion comes from the magic of hula hooping that can turn any inflexible adult back into a child with just one rotation of the hoop, to see them smiling and laughing, even though they may not get the motion of hooping right the first time.
The West Seattle Fixers and Makers will display wood carvings, paddles, canoe, sculptures from recycled materials and unique appliances that have been repaired by our Fixers' Collective.
In addition to the displays, we will offer activities for visitors to do during the event; such as making their own mini sewing or tool kit, taking apart broken tools and trying to diagnose why it doesn't work, and exploring creative uses for PVC fittings and tubing.
At the Light Symphony booth, you can program an Arduino to play musical tones with light! Visitors will be able to send a light signal to a modified fiber optic receiver board that converts the light signal to sound. By recording that sound to a mobile device or computer you can then attach a small LED box we made (and visitors will get a chance to prototype) to the audio output. The light box will blink and fade to the beat of the melody. The UCDS Technology Specialist and some of the fourth and fifth grade students who created, built and recorded this project will be present to help guide and demonstrate visitors through their process.


text: Certain of us northeasterners won't exactly be crying for the New York Football Giants, now that they've had their Super Bowl rings stolen. Ha, ha. The thieves disabled the alarm system at E.A. Dion Inc., cut a hole in the roof and made off with a safe that weighed at least 1,000 pounds. The loss was discovered Sunday by a Dion employee, who went to the business when she was unable to access her work e-mail from home, apparently because phone lines had been cut. The heist could have taken place at any time over the weekend, Sgt. Jim Keane said Wednesday. Well, I don't think it was the phone lines that were carrying that employee's e-mail messages, but you get the idea. Maybe there should have been a radio back-up? How is it possible there wasn't one? Unfortunately, only the Giant staffers got hit by this one. The players received their rings already. Bummer. And you conspiracy theorists out there, go ahead and get started. The company is in Attleboro, Mass., which is quite possibly the single greatest concentration of Pats fans in the world. Can you say, "Inside job"?


text:
Create commercial for shoe website
Budget $30-250 CAD
I am looking for someone to create a short Video Ad for my website that sells custom printed shoes.
The main focus of the video is to show users that they can create their own designs on a shoe and get them excited about creating a custom shoe.
I recommend a format like this:
1) Intro - Show the flipping and adding of various designs to a shoe like this video: [url removed, login to view]
2) Then say "Did you know?
Now you can Design your own sneakers!"
3) Then move into showing a user uploading their design to our website and the shoe design being created
4) After that show a short clip of the shoe being manufactured (Will provide a video you can take this clip from)
5) End with our logo and a link to our website.
Video length should be around 1 minute.
Please include a video ad you have created for review
5 frilansare har i genomsnitt lagt bud på $219 för detta jobb
commercial design portfolio [!] [!] [!] [!] [!] [!] Here is my our portfolio links.. [!] [!] [!] [!] [!]
Hi, I'm based in Windsor Ontario as well. :-) You can find me on [!] assuming we aren't already FB friends and I'd love to visit you at your shop and talk face to face about your vision. I have 35 years experienc Mer


text:
Bundesliga: Hertha Berlin 0 Freiburg 0
Hertha Berlin's European hopes suffered a further blow as their poor home form continued with a 0-0 draw against struggling Freiburg.
Although Hertha remain firmly in the running for UEFA Europa League qualification, Jos Luhukay's men have now won just one of their last seven Bundesliga fixtures at the Olympiastadion.
Sami Allagui had a golden opportunity to score inside the first minute of the encounter, but missed the target to set the tone for an evening of frustration.
While seventh-placed Hertha will be annoyed at missing an opportunity to steal a march on their rivals, Freiburg will surely be content with a priceless point in their battle for survival.
Allagui spurned two chances prior to the interval, while the visitors could have moved in front when Vladimir Darida fired straight at Thomas Kraft following a neat passing move.
Darida forced Kraft into further action in the second half, while Freiburg goalkeeper Oliver Baumann made a less-than-convincing stop to deny Adrian Ramos - the primary threat for Hertha in the closing stages.


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Running Time: 127 minutes
Studio Name: Little Dragon Pictures
Series: Lesbian Big Booty Lovers
Director: Miles Long Nikki Phoenix
Categories: Lesbian All Sex All Girl Big Butt High Definition
Description: Every lesbian loves a big booty and a girl's girl can't wait to bury her face in a luscious big derriere. Watching her feel the soft butt cheeks on her face while she shares her lover's juices and makes her lover shudder is something you can't miss!
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This lesson plan teaches how to select the landing site for a planetary surface investigation, using the 5E learning cycle. Students will be able to determine a landing site for their Mars rover; work with their team to summarize information and... (View More) identify important details in non-fiction writing; research Gale Crater through an online interactive module; use Google Earth Mars to learn about Mars surface features; gather and analyze data to conduct a scientific experiment; collect and record data in a science notebook to draw logical and scientific conclusions; define and identify the role of controls and variables in teams' scientific or technical questions; and differentiate between weather and climate. The lesson plan has a number of appendices, including standards alignment. This is Lesson 8 of the elementary school version of the 6 week Mars Rover Celebration curriculum. (View Less)
Materials Cost: 1 cent - $1 per group of students
Math skills are applied throughout this investigation of windows. Starting with basic window shapes, students determine area and complete a cost analysis, then do the same for windows of unconventional shapes. Students will examine photographs taken... (View More) by astronauts through windows on the Space Shuttle and International Space Station to explore the inverse relationship between lens size and area covered. This lesson is part of the Expedition Earth and Beyond Education Program. (View Less)
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This is an activity about sampling in astronomy. Learners will make a sampling window in order to estimate the number of stars in the sky visible to the unaided eye. After, they will discuss how to estimate the effect of different variables on their... (View More) counts, such as sky brightness, dark adaptation, cloud cover, etc. Please note use of a clear night sky is optimal for this activity. (View Less)


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The Cold Man & The Sea
For some men, learning to surf is the dream that never dies. After years of stalled fantasies, the author decided to pick up a board and face the ocean. Only problem: His ocean was in Maine
When you first decided to really do this thing, you didn't envision...snow. Or whatever is falling from the sky now: half liquid and half ice, these tiny hurtling Cadillacs stinging your cheek. Bone-chilling mid-December in Maine, a white haze hangs over the stony points of land in the distance. The murk has bits of red and purple in it, little bulbs of color strung over the ocean. A nor'easter has stirred up the Atlantic like a supershake, driving a frenzy of waves. They come one after another, aging before your eyes, black swells that turn green as they rise, then hunch and go white-haired as they fall apart.
This is an important moment for you. You're about to surf. You meant to do this long ago, but what happened? You grew up on the slack waves of Long Island Sound? And then, what? Life took over until the essential things you had on your to-do list, the golden for-you things, seemed like maybe they would just stay on that list forever. In the last three years, since the birth of your first child, and then a second, you've come to understand this truth: You're 38 years old and soon to be older—and your world is held together as tenuously as an icicle on the gutter. Everything is fraught with new breakability. And now you lie awake nights hoping things won't break.
Zipped into your wet suit, you haul your board down the stone embankment, out across the empty beach, to the eddies at the edge of the ocean. It's a very cold wind, isn't it? Made of oxygen that's been blowing around the world for eons. And the water is thirty-nine degrees of ball-grabbing insistence. Water is 3 billion years old, and it bashes and sucks and sings: Come to me, lover, searcher, surf dude, it's time to teach you something about Ma Nature.
Today your fellow conspirator is Brother-in-Law, five years younger than you, single and wearing an enigmatic swami-grin. He's wading into frigid waters with an old waterlogged board he bought secondhand. "Fucking cold, fucking cold, FUCKING COLD!!" he repeats like a mantra. He doesn't yet share all your feelings of too little time. He recently summited Denali, round-trip in twelve days, damn fast, according to the bush pilot who flew him down from base camp. Even pitted against the crevasses of a glacial mountain, he beats time.
He's also a man who makes a certain sartorial statement. He has taken some thermal insulation from a sleeping bag and duct-taped it to his broken rib (another story entirely, involving bourbon, an icy slope, a couple of kayaks and an impromptu slalom course), then put on a wet suit, a windshirt, a dry shirt on top of that and a billed hat. Your brother-in-law is a walking Polyprene tag sale, a patchwork Popeye. He looks like the opposite of those surf gods in neon colors, the yellow-lime-electric-orange human beings doing the unthinkable in the pages of that surfing magazine you sometimes read. Page after page, they stand inside the curls of twenty-footers with narcotic half smiles, on surfboards bearing the names Evolution, G-Force and Reef, lost in Fiji, Tavarua, Indonesia, California, Hawaii. Out in all that liquid space. Free.
Maine is not known for its monster breaks, or anything related to this fine sport, and so does not appear in surfer magazines. But there are waves here, fifteen minutes from your door, and today they're topping out at six or seven feet. Not bad, especially if you don't know how to surf. And, dude, remember: You don't know how to surf. You're a novitiate, discombobulated driftwood in a December storm.
By the time you've struggled past the wave breaks and reached the outside, you've drunk enough salt water to fill a lagoon and you're a little cross-eyed. Brother-in-Law has made it, too, resting facedown on his board for a second, catching his breath in the calm fetch. But this is a nor'easter. New swells propagate, radiate and rush in black, rippling procession, and suddenly you're caught by some miracle in the clutch of a wave that is unfurling beneath you. You've never ridden a bucking bronc, but this could be similar. And no sooner are you up on your feet than you are unceremoniously pitched headfirst, flipped like a coin as the wave explodes into a million glittering coins.
This is the part where frigid, thousand-volt water is forced into your nose, mouth, ears. A full-body, nonoptional enema. When you finally break free of the rinse cycle and come to the surface again, Brother-in-Law appears on the rising horizon, locked belly-down on his board with that enigmatic swami-grin and duckbill hat, missiling at eight knots right for your head.
On the ride home in your oversize family vehicle with two child seats and Fig Newtons smushed in the belt buckles, you both shiver and moan, to communicate that you're still alive. A bruise blossoms on your sternum from the point of contact with Brother-in-Law's board. Finally, after what seems like a long time, words form again.
"Man," says Brother-in-Law.
"Goddang," say you.
"Can you imagine surfing in warm water? There are people right now surfing in warm water..."
"Who get up every day..."
"On, like, the North Shore, dude."
A stop sign, and the wiper wicks snow from the window. You both look left, then right. You both are very, very blue, like ice in certain light.
The North Shore. The words clang through the freezer of your brain, conjure palm trees and Hawaiian surf, brown skin and the taste of frangipani and salt. Perhaps you're about thirty years late to this sport, bound to an entirely different life, on a rocky shoreline 6,000 miles from that sandy one.
But still. Brother-in-Law finishes the thought and unwittingly plants the seed. Lost in the same daydream, he says, "What do you think the real thing feels like anyway? I really wonder what it feels like to surf the real thing."
It gets bad, this dream, so bad that on any given day, after you've picked up the scattered toys and train sets, ferreted out cookie crumbs from under the table and folded the tiny shirts and pants of your offspring, after surrendering to the fact that you and your wife may never complete a conversation again and are often incoherent once the kids have dozed off for the first, fleeting sleep of a five-stage night, you thumb through your surfing magazines, feeling a deep-down, visceral ache. You become lost in the nearly pornographic ecstasy of this otherworld, the incredible waves, the rocketing surfers, the narcotic smiles. Really: What must it feel like?
And then one day you wake up, in hopes of forgetting. Forget the terrorist fears and market ululations. Forget the world as you know it. You pack the family and leave behind the broken lamp, the unpaid bills and the ringing phone. You flee the cold weather. And with one genie blink, here you are: with your summer babe and two heartbreaking trolls, one who is nearly 3, and the other who is three months old. You're here to surf, but there's something else, too, something you never realized about parenthood, back when it was all just the ambiguous meeting of sperm and egg: It can be as lonely as polar exploration, and in moments mightily Sisyphean. But when you're together like this, in the bubble, you're given a gift. Sure, there are diapers and meltdowns, but there's also the sweetness of this every-hour dialogue with your wife and kids, this connectedness that gets lost in weeks of white noise and work.
So you go to Hawaii, to Oahu, starting at Waikiki, that surreal city on the beach where people pad the sidewalks barefoot and nearly naked, surfboards balanced on heads, past Louis Vuitton and Chanel boutiques. Here you stay at the Halekulani Hotel, with soft robes in the closet and surfing lessons available nearby. From your lanai that first day, the kids napping on freshly laundered sheets, you gaze down the beach to Diamond Head and the jagged-edged Ko'olaus, watch the sky burble in a lava wash of orange and red at sunset, breathe in jasmine and a light salt breeze. Across that broad expanse of sea, waves emanate from the Southern Hemisphere, legendary slow rollers for beginners like you, delicious-looking things on which a phalanx of surfers rises and falls until the light sifts out of the sky and there is nothing left but the breathing sound of the ocean, struck once across the face by silver moonlight.
The next morning, you go looking for a lesson and, on the advice of a friend, try Clyde Aikau, brother to one of Hawaii's most famous big-wave surfers, Eddie Aikau, who was lost at sea twenty-five years ago. Clyde is 53 years old, a hulk of a man, who runs a beach concession in the tradition of the beach boys of yore, the ukulele-strumming, fun-loving originals, including surfing's greatest ambassador, Duke Kahanamoku, who clowned and gave surf lessons and took people on outrigger canoes for beer money. Legend has it that the Duke, as he's called, rode the longest wave ever, here at Waikiki, an impossible mile and a half.
At first Clyde's standoffish. He seems to glower behind black Terminator glasses. Truth be told, he kind of brings you down. But then he speaks his brother's name and his mood revolves once, his sun re-rises and throws gold over everything. "When you go into the ocean," he says, "you're going back hundreds of years, to the purest time, the purest element. I can remember the look on my brother's face, dropping in on a forty-foot wave at Waimea—forty-foot, brah!—and there was nowhere he'd rather have been."
Clyde opens the door on Eddie, his lost brother, his greatest hero, and tells you how Eddie was the very first North Shore lifeguard, saving scores of lives, how he vanished when he joined a boat that was sailing to Tahiti to trace the route of the original settlers, how there was bad weather that day, but the governor and the mayor had come for the send-off so they decided to go anyway. He tells how the boat was swamped and Eddie decided to swim for help. Later a rescue plane discovered the beleaguered party. What ensued was a massive three-week search for Eddie Aikau—planes, helicopters, boats, even psychics, one who claimed the surfer had been swallowed whole by a whale on the eastern side of the island.
"It was very hard," says Clyde. "Still is." The beach is mobbed, but talking to Clyde you feel that you've entered a hushed room where there's only you and he—and his brother, in neon. Then he tells you one more story. In his brother's name, Clyde began the annual Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational, an event vaguely scheduled between December and March, on the North Shore, for a day when the forecast promises gargantuan waves. At that first contest, in 1986, Clyde says that when he paddled out to the lineup, to where about twenty guys were waiting on sets of waves, he saw a flash in the water nearby, a sea turtle, and then followed it, beyond where everyone was sitting on their boards, beyond where it seemed to make sense. And no sooner had he lost sight of the turtle than a twenty-five-foot wave appeared before him; he paddled, dropped in and had the ride of the day, winning the contest.
"Oh yeah, the turtle is part of Eddie," Clyde says now, taking off his Terminator glasses, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the memory. "He watched over me that day and told me to follow him. Our family can trace our lineage back to Heva Heva, my great-grandfather who was a high priest and a caretaker of Waimea Bay. From Heva to Eddie to me, it's all right there in that patch of water."
He motions for you to follow him, so you do. He picks up a board. It doesn't matter if it's a one-foot wave or a monster wave, he says, surfing is the best feeling in the world. He drops the board in the sand and shows you: When you've paddled into a wave—and caught it—grab the board at its edges and push off, bringing your feet to a firm plant with arms stretched wide. "Then hold on, brah," he says. "And when you turn, torque your body. Like this." Clyde torques his body, scooching the board over the sand, left then right. The tops of his feet are the caramel color of many decades spent beneath this same sun, doing this same wondrous thing.
Out in the water, Clyde is a drillmaster. He takes long, strong strokes as he skims past the Japanese tourists clinging to boards. In surfing, your first realization is that it's damn hard to paddle long distances, especially when you're on a board above the water. Head craned forward, back arched, arms stroking, it requires muscles you've never used before. But Clyde effortlessly hydroplanes. When a set of waves arrives, you hear nothing but screaming from him. "Paddle, paddle, paddle! Move it, move it, move it! Go, man, go!" His tone makes you think of the army. "Hey, brah," he barks, "if you want that wave, you better get your ass in it."
You catch a few, pop to your feet in ready position, arms outstretched. As advertised, the waves are perfect for learning, and your wipeouts are benevolent, fun, enema-free. The water is warm and green; the air warm and blue: There really is no difference in temperature between the two. The hours are measured in each new surge of waves, each new ride and wipeout, and then the long paddle back out against the incessant beating of a new set, and the waiting, just sitting among other surfers waiting for another chance. And this cycle repeats for as long as a body holds up—until your fingers prune, muscles ache and head begins to thrum, until you find one last wave to the shore, to your room and the kids just in from the beach, sandy and smelling of suntan lotion—and then the sea continues on, anyway, without you.
This, then, is what surfing is: Sun, salt, heat and exhaustion. All-body ertion followed by dreamlike fatigue that blurs the harder outlines of reality and allows you to lie down and sleep happily in a new place, at whatever hour of the day, no matter who's not sleeping. Surfing is oneness and nothingness, or the somethingness that occurs when you're overwhelmed by a 3-billion-year force larger than yourself.
And more. Put this on a hula-dancer postcard and send it to Brother-in-Law, because after Clyde and another four days splashing around at Waikiki trying to get your sea legs, you've figured it out: Surfing is the destruction of earthly vanities—of ambition, envy, pride—because the ocean doesn't know what these things are. Afloat, at sea, you find yourself two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen, wave and white water, fin and tail. You're the purest element, not human anymore, not even a metaphor for human. You just are. And you're set free by the immensity of everything you aren't. On top of a wave, underneath a wave, dragged by the riptide, you're free in one other way, too: Free to never return, if that were your inclination, which makes you more free when you do.
Behold this Holy Grail, these seven fabled miles of surfing, the North Shore: Here the names of the breaks alone illumine an entire atomic history of the sport: the Banzai Pipeline, Sunset, Waimea Bay, Log Cabins, Rocky Point, Chun's Reef, Kammieland, Monster Mush. What was once a '70s hippie outpost is now ground zero, a potpourri of pros, locals and tourists, trawling through the village of Haleiwa for coffee, sandwiches and shave ice on their way up the highway to the beaches. To sun and fun, magic tricks and epic wipeouts, enlightenment and oblivion.
Your timing is perfect. You and the elfin posse have arrived on the eve of the season's first swell. After four months of flat ocean, of shaping boards and watching surf videos, the real thing. But remember: It's not you who's been waiting four months—the locals have. However swept up you've become, you're still a haole to them, an outsider, a mainlander, a hopeless Caucasian case, translated literally as someone "without breath." You're a father and a husband and a worker bee on a rocky, freezing-ass coastline 6,000 miles from here. Parenthood is the vast new chaos of your life, the Big Bang occurring under your own roof, the monster wave you ride—fantastical, impossible and scary.
So it's true: You'll probably never be one of those neon men in the surf magazines. And yet you now know how to stand up and surf a little. You know to watch the late local news in Hawaii to get the surf report at 10:20 p.m. And you're dumb, in the best way. Which is why you're about to do this thing anyway.
The swell hits in the late afternoon, a truly mesmerizing, planetary event. The sky sheds its high blue for a low-ceiling turquoise green. A light wind picks up, riffles the palm fronds until they clatter. The waves begin small and build, hour by hour, foot by foot, so that by five they're coming in at seven or eight feet. Anxious surf squirrels load their boards on car racks, drift forth from bushes and bungalows, walking the width of the beach in a trance, gaping at the flash, buck and rush of the ocean.
"Man, people are really horny for waves around here," says a former pro surfer named Randy Rarick. His house is fifty yards from Sunset Beach, and he's old-school laid-back, full of so much surfer gemütlichkeit he gives you a loaner board he shaped himself and points you to a place where you may not get killed. You and board and family drive down the highway to Chun's Reef, about 1,000 percent sure there's never been a surfer song written about a novice haole taking the North Shore by storm in a Dodge Caravan.
Even at this hour, dinnertime, cars are still lining up and down the highway. People hurriedly unload their boards, looking serious, hop down a stone wall to the beach, strap their leashes to their legs, walk their boards into the shallows, jump on and begin to paddle, moving water with cupped hands, propelling their bodies toward the horizon line, finally letting go of land, smiling.
And just behind them, so do you.
Once out to the lineup, you linger. Below are fish and deep clefts of tropical water; above, fish-shaped clouds and sky. These particular waves have been whipped up and driven south across the Pacific by a storm front sweeping from Siberia to Alaska, waves cruising unhindered over a 1,500-mile fetch until they crash into the reefs of Hawaii, where they go from being deepwater to shallow-water waves, driven up by rock and coral, energy piling skyward, then, bowed by gravity, cupping, unbuckling and crashing downward.
Eight feet doesn't sound as big as it looks from where you're sitting, but it's pretty damn sizable. It looks like a reckoning. But it costs nothing to try. So you do. You size a wave on the horizon, pick it as yours, take a deep breath, heart thumping, and as it speeds forth, you paddle like hell, trying to steal a glance behind at the approaching wall of water. Then everything begins to rise, as if some big hand is scooping up this patch of ocean with you happening in it. From here it's pure instinct: You stand on your feet, in a wave that almost instantaneously swats you from behind. The next sensation is of toppling headlong into the drink, of tumbling and tumbling and tumbling. Your board with its razorlike skeg guillotines down just past the tip of your nose. And you can feel the leash break loose at your ankle. And then you're pinned and pummeled by about 6,000 pounds of water, body going rag doll in the tumult, revolving, cartwheeling.
Every wipeout is its own little heart stop, its own near-death. It's a moment where control of your life has been relinquished to a higher being that is beating the pudding out of you. But every once in a while, a little annihilation feels good; sprites appear before you with messages from beyond. "When big waves hit you," says Clyde, "what pulls you out is heart and spirit. Physically, you can only go so far; mentally, you can go a lot farther."
In your case, you're back to the surface, sputtering. Through glassy eyes, you see land-sky-wave, and then you're swamped again before you've taken a good breath, swallowing, being force-fed what feels like an entire block of salt. Six thousand more pounds on your chest squeezes what's left of your oxygen—so this is what's meant by _haole—_and now you're less enthralled by your own annihilation, more panicky, fighting for the surface. And, make no mistake, it is a fight at whose dark, gauzy heart is the nauseating realization that this would be a very bad ending to the safari dream.
Then all at once, you're bobbing on the surface again. "Goddang," yell you at the sky, lungs greedily grabbing air. "Jesus Mary."
The ocean, benevolent mother that she is, has pushed you past the wave breaks, and after regaining oxygen and equilibrium, you're left with only the ignominy of having to swim after your board, which literally gets pushed an eighth of a mile to the beach, the same beach on which your family has come to frolic. Once ashore, you can see them between watery drips, maybe two hundred yards down: Your son running in circles around your wife, who holds the baby, all of them glowing there. Perhaps the way the light falls on them now, the absolute tangerine of the moment, is a message from the gods to call it a day, to go back to that other life. But your summer babe gives you a sexy wave that communicates an understanding: Go ahead, there's still time. After a quick surgical fix of the leash, you paddle back out, and now, having spotted your wave, having maniacally stroked and caught it perfectly at its highest cusping point, you grasp the board on either side. You plant your feet and open your arms wide, just as Clyde taught you. And you hold on, the wave lifting and racing, with you on top.
What does it feel like?
It feels like flying. That's the only thing you can think of: Flying. Unhindered, unfettered, unbound from yourself, you're surrounded by blue air and blue water. You have your arms wide, and you're being driven by the ocean, which sounds like dynamite going off around you. And then you're lifting off. When you torque the board, it gives easily, and you're making turns. When you walk up on the board and then back, you speed and slow. You bend and reach for the board between your legs, grab hold with your right hand, lie back into the wave and zag left, carving a sharp line in the ocean. You're not neon, but in this one second, there are sparks of color flying off. Of trillions given by this ocean, it's one of the most amazing feelings.
Eventually, the wave crumbles, and you turn back out, sun sliding into the infinite fetch of water before you, everyone lost in this last shimmer before darkness, the shore all but invisible now. You paddle hard and fast, figuring you've got maybe a half hour, and you want more. When you make the lineup, though, there are no waves in sight. In the long lull between sets, you sit with about twenty other hard-breathing, water-beaded bodies. Tomorrow you may find yourself in the belly of a whale; you may come back as a turtle. Who knows? But now you can hear the sound of air moving over water and feel the soft swells. Everyone sits silently, just taking it in, grinning.
This part is easy, for your new life with children, however fantastical, has required patience you never knew you had, and then some you don't have yet. You're trying, learning, tumbling. If you were to compose a few lines on these sheaves of water to a younger man, they would be this: Surfing is the future rushing at you, and you paddling, wide-eyed and awed, to catch it. Surfing is patience, and patience is the ocean, wherever that ocean is, even if it's freezing-ass Maine...especially if it's freezing-ass Maine.
For one moment, though, this is not Maine. And for one moment, you're connected to everything by warm water and light, the timelessness of floating in liquid space.
Actually, brah, I could be wrong, but I think I saw you out there, too; in fact, I know you well, you and I, me and you, yeah, even now, we're still sitting out there, waiting.
Michael Paterniti is a GQ writer-at-large. He is the author of Driving Mr. Albert: A Trip Across America with Einstein's Brain.


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The boys have been verbally pecking at each other for 90 minutes. It's heating up. I hear a dull thud; two seconds later Cole comes flying through the living room with Conrad just inches behind. Younger, but bigger, Conrad is growling, and furious that his older brother is just a bit quicker. Cornered, Cole meets wrath head on.
Thud, thud, thud, Smack!
Now Conrad is running from Cole.
Thud, thud, thud, Smack!
This is getting pretty good. I'd probably watch this on late-night TV.
I let them pound on each other for another minute. Eyes are starting to mist, faces are getting red. It's time for me to play parent. The always-ready SuperSoaker squirt gun comes in handy here. A few pumps later, both boys are dripping wet, their energy directed at me. Water guns in hand, they come back smiling and seeking revenge.
Some might think the moral here is "real men resolve their disputes with weapons." Not really. I don't advocate fighting at all. Provided it's an even match, sometimes brothers just need to wail on each other.
"Quit taking my picture, man. Freakin' papparazi is everywhere. Anderson, go beat him up."
Speaking of wailing on people, I'm talking to UFC champion Anderson Silva. A few guys at the office have set up virtual shrines to the guy so I know he must be good. He's come to drive with his buddy Jerome Dahan, owner of Citizens of Humanity Clothing.
Dressed in street clothes and wearing a brilliant smile, I have difficulty picturing this man knocking other guys out. Anderson looks and behaves like an average Joe, not this monster nicknamed "The Spider."
Silva is what we in the automotive world would describe as a "sleeper" or "Q-ship"—that is, an average-looking car with huge performance. We love that type of car.
The half-million dollars in Mercedes with us is the exact opposite. Bulging fenders, NACA-style ducting, quad exhausts… the SLS makes a very bold statement, the Brabus version even more so. It wants everyone to know just where it sits in the grand arena.
Although its much older 300SL sibling was clearly a sports car, the current version is getting much closer to becoming an exotic. It will take the fight to Ferrari's 458 or McLaren's MP4 quite handily. By simply shaving a few pounds, the SLS could go all the way.
Silva is sort of doing the same thing, just the opposite direction. He's so good he's been fighting in heavier weight classes. I can't help but wonder if the extra weight will have the same dynamic on a human as it does on a machine. Historically, carmakers would rather increase engine output than reduce weight. And as good as the SLS is, it would be much, much better if it didn't carry so much mass. Granted, even a good driver is going to run out of talent long before the SLS does, which makes it almost a moot point. Still, lightness can be very rewarding.
Regardless of weight class, both Silva and the Brabus SLS are at top of their game. In the meanwhile, I have my own fight to attend. Prepare for an ultimate soaking, boys.


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Cooking with Pumpkin: From Whoopie Pies to GoulashBon Appétit
We cooked with raw pumpkin once last year, and it was a disaster. But these recipes are giving us new courage. Some are made with canned pumpkin, yes, but others use a specific pumpkin that is the best one for cooking. Do you know which it is?
Sugar pumpkins are the smallish, round pumpkins that you should be looking for in terms of cooking. They are sweeter and less fibrous than Jack-O-Lantern-sized pumpkins.
This Bon Appétit slideshow has many more than five recipes; we just picked our favorites. Go take a look. The recipes go way beyond your classic pumpkin pie.
• See all the recipes: Cooking with Pumpkin, at Bon Appétit
Above are the ones we thought looked the most interesting….
Which one looks best to you? Are you cooking with pumpkin this Fall?
Related: Recipe: Pumpkin Tortilla Soup
(Images: Misha Gravenor, William Meppem, Tina Rupp, and Tim Morris for Bon Appétit)


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K-Dawg wrote:Mr.Bob wrote:
People who Could And Should Go to London, But Apparantly Don't Seem As If They Will
Hah, I never knew I would be on such a list.
pierce studios wrote:Correction on that list: Cookie is coming.
Jops wrote:i'm currently in an internet cafe in glasgow so this means i can't chak out thears and e-mails too often...
All i can tell is that i should reach Victoria station for about 11:00
Then, well, i've no idea on how to get to Mile End.
((just to be safe i'm gonna pm you my phone number))
Mr.Bob wrote:Can this restaurant seat 10?
Mr.Bob wrote:Bwahaha I am going to win!
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Question: I recently flew back to Los Angeles from New York on American Airlines. About two hours into the flight there was an announcement that all the onboard toilets, except for one in coach class, had stopped working, and so more than 150 passengers had to share one bathroom. How does this happen? Are there guidelines or regulations that airlines should follow in this situation? There was no mention of compensation of any kind, although I won't be flying AA again in this lifetime, so I'm not looking for that. There seemed to be no accidents, and the bathroom at the back coped amazingly well. After we landed, there was a stampede to the toilets in Terminal 4.
Peta Noble
Rolling Hills Estates
Answer: Noble's question raises some important, if delicate, points for individuals, which we'll get to in a minute. But first, here is American Airlines' response:
"The decision to divert an aircraft due to lavatory issues is a difficult one. We must balance the desire to get our customers to their destination on time, while ensuring everyone has the amenities they need during the flight.
"In this case, the decision was made to continue to LAX, and we regret the inconvenience this caused some of our customers."
AA didn't address how something like this happens and whether there are guidelines it should have followed.
Although the Federal Aviation Administration has what it calls a minimum equipment list, "There is nothing in the airline regulations about minimum numbers of lavatories," said Ian Gregor, an FAA spokesman.
Apart from what's required and why this happened, it really comes down to your comfort — or lack thereof — if you're faced with such a situation.
The good news: Your bladder probably won't explode, two doctors told me. "It takes a lot for a bladder to rupture — it can and the bowel can rupture as well — but not in the short time frame we're talking about," said Dr. Glenn Hardesty, an emergency medicine physician at Texas Health Arlington Memorial Hospital. A bladder can expand, but it's elastic and generally will return to normal in a one-off situation such as this.
The bigger issue, said Hardesty and Dr. Michael Zimring, director of travel medicine at Mercy Medical Center in Baltimore and the author of "Healthy Travel: Don't Travel Without It!," may be a urinary tract infection from holding urine too long.
The American Airlines situation is unusual, but just in case — or to avoid lots of trips up and down the aisle — avoid drinks that act as diuretics, Zimring said, especially drinks with caffeine and alcohol, which rules out coffee, tea, colas and anything that might make you feel better about being stuck in line or without a bathroom. Hardesty notes that drinks with artificial sweeteners can irritate the bladder and intensify the urge.
Those who take diuretics for medical conditions also might consider modifying their schedules.
And in a dire emergency, Zimring mentioned a collapsible plastic bottle, to which I would add GoGirl (www.go-girl.com), whose website calls it a "female urination device." Enough said.
The bigger and more common issue with airplane restrooms is that they're often just a step above the portable toilets we are forced to use at sporting or other outdoor events. Antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizers (3.4 ounces or less for carry-on purposes) are your allies.
When you think about it, a plane is a sort of flying petri dish, so it's a good idea to wash your hands, then use the hand sanitizer when you get back to your seat, especially if you've touched any of the seats on your way back. Wipe down your tray table and the arms of your seat; consider wearing a mask, particularly if your immune system is compromised or you want to avoid giving whatever bug you have to others.
The idea is to come through the knothole we call flying only slightly worse for the wear. End of discussion.
Have a travel dilemma? Write to firstname.lastname@example.com. We regret we cannot answer every inquiry.