Over the weekend I followed the story of the Boy Scout lost in Doughton Park, North Carolina. He was found alive and well yesterday. It took the searchers four days and was a difficult trick–though Doughton Park does have some open space, as seen from the summit of the Blue Ridge it is a crease in the land, solidly paved with trees. Relief that the story ended well gave way to my mother’s exasperation for a kid who’s supposed to have sense wandering off from his group in the mountains.

It’s been a rough year here for rescue operations in Oregon, with the boy lost and presumed dead at Crater Lake, the death of James Kim amid the successful rescue of his family, and the three climbers lost on Mt. Hood. Though they’ve had plenty of success as well, the stories of grief are what stick in the mind.

Why would the kid–any kid, let alone a 12-year-old Boy Scout–wander off from his group? Or, in the case of the Crater Lake child, eight years old, from his father? They’re old enough to know better. I realize that kids have minds of their own no matter how well they’re trained, but it makes my hackles rise nevertheless. Kent Auberry, father of Michael Auberry, Boy Scout:

“He was homesick,” said Kent Auberry, father of Michael, at a hospital news conference Tuesday. “He started walking and at one point when he was walking he thought maybe he’d walk as far as the road and hitchhike home.”

“We’re going to have our lectures about hitchhiking again,” the elder Auberry added. “We’ve had them in the past, but with a special vigor, we’ll go over that again with Michael.”

Is it usual for a 12-year-old to think hitchhiking is a good idea? Regardless, Mr. Auberry, if four days in the wilderness doesn’t teach the kid his lesson about doing his own thing under inappropriate circumstances, I’m afraid your “special vigor” will be unavailing.

Well, enough of my spleen. The best part of the story next to the sparing of Michael Auberry’s life? It was a dog who found him–according to the radio report I heard yesterday, the dog and his trainer, Misha Marshall, had only joined the search lately when the dog picked up Michael’s scent and went straight to him.

The dog’s name? Gandalf. Nice.

(H/t TORn.)

As soon as I saw the title of Dave’s post, “How Lord of the Rings Should Have Ended,” I knew what the projected ending would be. We used to get this question an average of once a month back at TORn: “Why didn’t the Eagles just drop the Ring into Mount Doom?”

Well, whether you buy my answer from back then or not, the movie’s cute.

He’s doing good for the Iraqi people and our troops: co-founder of Operation Iraqi Children, which sends school supplies to Iraqi children, many of whom were kept under wretched school conditions during the reign of Saddam Hussein:

Corralled in sweltering one-room buildings without air conditioning, fans, windows, solid floors, or even toilets, Iraqi students lack even the rudimentary supplies that American children take for granted. Libraries and books are almost nonexistent. Without these basic tools of education, Iraqi children face an uphill struggle to learn.

OiC takes donations as well as guiding groups who want to put together school-supplies kits that are stored at OiC’s warehouse in Kansas City and then shipped to Iraq. But the kicker is Sinise’s desire for the program to help our troops as well, many of whom had already taken it upon themselves to try to get supplies and better conditions for the kids:

Working in small groups on their days off, soldiers gather supplies sent by family members, friends, and various groups and take them to villages, sometimes coming under fire as they work to reconstruct the schools and deliver learning tools to Iraqi kids. Their efforts have met with immense gratitude from local Iraqis and their children, who now have access to the basic tools of education for the first time in their lives. “I have seen Iraqi kids climbing on our soldiers and hugging them and kissing them,” remembers Sinise, who accompanied Army soldiers to a dilapidated school they were rebuilding. “I have seen their smiling faces and their attempts to say ‘I love you’ in broken English. The folks I saw had hope in their eyes and gratitude in their hearts for what was done for them.”

…

“Every time a box of school supplies is delivered by our troops it will be another small victory for them in helping win the hearts and minds of the Iraqis,” says Sinise. “It is a beautiful way to begin a relationship with the future leaders of Iraq.”

It seems last night was my night to catch “five minutes” of this or that on TV. I saw the end of Entertainment Tonight, in which one of the hosts caught up with Sinise to wish him happy birthday (St. Paddy’s Day boy) and present him with a $1000 gift card from ET and Capital One to be used for OiC. In his thanks, Sinise made sure to mention that “our troops get to give these out” and that it’s thus good for everybody.

Many people use that much-maligned phrase “support the troops.” Sinise is putting it into action by enabling them in turn to support the Iraqi people. Happy birthday, man.

“… which reminded Anne of the early days when she too had been ignorant,
and she too had been accused of supposing sailors to be living on board
without anything to eat, or any cook to dress it if there were,
or any servant to wait, or any knife and fork to use.”

–Jane Austen, Persuasion

Mike was one of the “servants to wait,” and his ship, the USS Blueback, once used in filming The Hunt for Red October, is now moored (docked? anchored?) in the Willamette River for tourists at OMSI, the science museum just over the hills in Portland proper. I haven’t been through it yet, mostly because The Bean is a bit too young. But I plan on it soon. I’ll take an extra look into the source of Mike’s duty troubles, the supply closet:

A narrow, L-shaped compartment, it was about 5-and-a-half feet tall inside, with rail-lined shelves along the bulkheads. And it was packed, floor to ceiling – er, deck to overhead – with cans, crates and boxes. I’d start pulling stuff out, burrowing my way in, looking for everything on the list [of ingredients for all the day’s meals]. It’d take hours, and inevitably I’d find myself stuck at some point, contorted in the aft-most corner, sweating and cursing as I tried to free myself, unable to find the freakin’ “corn, creamed.”

Alan Sullivan with Best Word Use of the Day: Numinous. One of Lewis’s most-used words and the most concise and beautiful for meaning “supernatural, of the spiritual realm.” And probably associated in his mind with Tolkien’s Numenor, although Tolkien was at pains (and sometimes borderline uncharitable to Lewis) to set inquiring readers straight on the fact that “Numenor” in no way derived from “numinous” and was unrelated to Lewis’s unwelcome use of “Numinor.”

Also, in which I learn about sheer boundaries and what causes turbulence in clear air:

Such clouds may form low in the atmosphere, like these off California, or much higher, at cirrus levels. They are the visible form of eddies at a sheer boundary. Such phenomena are common in clear air, and they make for a bumpy ride when aircraft encounter them. If there is just enough moisture, clouds may provide a signature for the process.

Eddies in the air, just like in water. Fascinating, Captain. And good for an aspiring pilot to know. And yes, numinous.

He visited the set. He totally sucks. And I can’t even read the post yet because I haven’t watched the episodes in question–still catching up after being sick. Ah well. I couldn’t resist reading the part about Mary McDonnell, though–apparently she is indeed as cool as she seems:

So impressed is she by my brother’s research capabilities, Mary will continue to pop out throughout the afternoon and evening to ask him for more information, including at least one more song (wondering whether “Bus Stop” was a Beatles song or a Hollies song– the latter, as we confirmed via the now-invaluable PDA).

Talking to Mary during these breaks, and watching her playful demeanor with the actors and crew, it’s easy to recognize her incredible charisma. She’s one of those rare women who walk into a room and make everyone, men and women, instantly laugh & smile. Oh, and she’s also beautiful– never a bad trait in an accomplished and talented actress.

I’ve loved her since I saw Sneakers. Nice to know she acts like a human being, not necessarily Hollywood being. Welp, more incentive to finish up the episodes in question so I can read and salivate over Dave’s post. But he still sucks. So say we all.

H/t Bryan at Hot Air.

… check out this surprisingly serious, sad, sweet little Ernest number from Ernest Goes to Camp. Yeah, you read that right. I saw it as a teenager, and even though over-the-top physical comedy isn’t my thing, I’m quite sure the user comment at IMDB is correct that it’s the funniest of the Ernest movies. Battered, pathetic Jim Varney is credible and lovable here as the fallen hero, and the song itself is so catchy that I spent literally years with a fragment floating in and out of my mind from time to time … “Gee, I’m glad it’s rainin’ … now dammit, how does the rest of that song go?” I thought I’d never find out, because I didn’t really want to know badly enough to rent an Ernest movie. Behold the wonders of YouTube for reviving sad songs from the zany-movie genre.

Jim Varney died of lung cancer in 2000. He was a funny guy who did some very good things:

When given the chance to have a lifelong dream fulfilled by such groups as the Make-A-Wish Foundation, several hundred terminally ill children have asked to meet Ernest. He never let them down.

RIP, Slinky Dog.

The orchestra sounds slick, sure, but try it again without instruments or other sound-effects devices:

Oldie but goody. H/t … an ex-bf. Thanks, babe.

It must be “home county” week here at the Notes. My father’s home county, Rockcastle County, Kentucky, has a steel bridge that the state is looking to replace. The kicker: they’ll disassemble it and transport it free to a new location, provided the new owner will commit to reassemble and maintain it for 20 years. They suggest it would make a nice feature in a bike path. Sounds like win-win-win to me.

Billy Joel to sing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl.

He was pretty much my first favorite pop/rock musician, so that’s good karma for me. And good karma for me means my team has to win, right?

Right.

And my Peyton. And, of course, my Allah.

Anwyn’s Note: Originally posted at Electric Venom but accidentally deleted in a database wipeout. Reposted here.

A little Christmas fun before I get to VK’s meme: in the spirit of Electric Venom, I’ll trot out my version of The List — the good list. The really good list. So good that it would never contain a Scotch-swilling comedian or a full-on-himself reality TV judge — which is to say, my list could take Kate’s list to the woodshed. My boys are talented, funny, smart, and lest we forget, hotter than Georgia asphalt in July. In order from longest-lived on the list to brand new, here they are:

… with just a brief caveat to Kate: she seems to have men she can list based on something other than their public persona, at least a few of them. And at least one of them she’s actually sat down for a conversation with, turning my little LotR heart green with envy. I freely admit I know very little about the personalities/tastes/lives of any of my guys. Four of them are actors, and I’d be superhuman if the characters I’ve seen them play didn’t factor in to my liking for them. C’est la vie. This list isn’t about reality. Much. I’d like to think, though, that factoring in their characters makes it less about looks and more about whatever aspects of their personalities *do* emerge through their characters. For what that’s worth.

1. Matthew Perry. He’s the longest-running current denizen of the list; I’ve been in love since Chandler first began doing that “rock — hard place — me” schtick he does so well. He’s gorgeous, funny as hell, and pulls off that cynical, defense-is-the-best-offense hiding a hurt, bewildered 20/30-something better than almost anyone. And, wonder of wonders, he’s now got a character who’s not Chandler — and is finally starting to ramp up as Aaron Sorkin gets over himself and returns to writing a good show rather than a weekly rant. Go, Matthew, go!

2. Josh Charles. He was the sweet stalkerish type in Dead Poets Society but grew up with a vengeance in the short-lived Sports Night. More work for him, please, Hollywood. He’s the reason I’m planning on hitting an Orioles game one of these days.

3. Nathan Fillion. Don’t know Nathan Fillion? Go Netflix yourself some Firefly DVDs posthaste, and don’t let anybody tell you “The new Han Solo.” He is so not. He’s a live wire, the profanity-spewing trickster of the set, the kind of good-hearted actor who will cross the street from a premiere to sign autographs and show up at a convention that was cancelled, out of concern for disappointing his fans. Last seen guesting on Lost. May it be a taste of bigger things to come.

4. *Cough*Allahpundit*cough*. Yeah, I know, I’m too old to be getting internet crushes sight-unseen and conversation-all-but-unhad, but what can I say: cynicism, brains, insight, humor, and that Chandleresque “been burned, afraid of fire” air add up to the kind of boy I can’t stay away from. Now you know, Xrlq, my big defense was all a smokescreen for my little crush. I’ll even overlook his fanboy hangup on the most overrated band in history.

5. I don’t have a number five. Really. I thought about all my current favorite shows and none of the guys measured up to the above four, although some of them might and I don’t put them on just because I have sort of a thing against putting married guys on the list if I know they’re married. (Remember, this list isn’t about rationality, either.) So I’ll give this slot as Honorable Mention to the first man who ever was on the list: Harrison Ford. The one and only Captain Solo and Henry Jones, Jr. Too old for me, sadly, but he’s also got that whole Wyoming-rancher-private-pilot thing going. He’s actually landed before at the airport in Indiana where I used to take my flight lessons. Not, of course, while I was there. Still love him!

That’s the list. Too late for Santa’s notice?

A good friend of mine did graduate work at Texas A&M, her husband received his PhD there, and their daughter graduated last spring. Their daughter played soccer for the school. At a match, my friend met and became friendly with Mrs. Robert Gates, wife of the outgoing president of Texas A&M and incoming U.S Secretary of Defense.

My friend has Mrs. Gates’s number in her cell phone. Kinda cool, no?