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Yesterday my athletic-watching skills were sorely tested. But I passed with high marks. With astounding skill I managed to go out in public while the Oregon State-Missouri Sun Bowl game was being recorded on my DVR, and return home without knowing who won. I’ve got considerable practice at this, so I’d be remiss if I didn’t share some tips with those just coming up in the sports event recording ranks. Of course, I had to hone my talent in the school of VCR hard knocks. When I used to play doubles at the Salem Tennis and Swim Club, I can’t…

There’s nothing wrong with Christmas except almost everything. Frantically buying presents. Obsessively decorating the house. Feverishly socializing. Leave all of that stuff out and you’re left with something good. It just isn’t Christmas as we in the United States know it. But it’s surely a lot closer to what the man we’re supposedly honoring, Jesus, would have wanted. I found this image at Buy Nothing Christmas ’06, along with other posters that inspired my increasingly minimalist Christmas soul. Last night Laurel said, “Let’s not get each other any presents this year.” “Sounds good to me,” I told her. I’ve already…

What a Thanksgiving bummer! It looks like this beautiful creature is going extinct. Yes, this could be the last time a much beloved Now & Zen Unturkey graces our vegetarian table. I had no problem buying this ungobbler a few days ago at LifeSource Natural Foods. But this disturbing page greeted me when I tried to access the Now & Zen web site. And the buzz over at Veggie Boards isn’t encouraging: Now & Zen is no more. Same message here. Nor is there any cyberspace sign of Green Options, the company that reportedly bought the makers of the Unturkey.…

I love my Stihl backpack leaf blower. I also love Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. Can my loves co-exist? Would Thoreau, who wrote "If the soul attends for a moment its own infinity, then and there is silence," approve of pushing leaves around by means of a noisy engine? Yes, I believe he would. There is beauty, profundity, and philosophical wisdom in the practice (dare I say “art”?) of leaf blowing, notwithstanding the snooty attitude of this blogger, who considers leaf blowers a din of ubiquity. Cute. And often true. But our house sits on ten acres, not a small city…

Like most men, I feel grateful that I’m not married to me. Laurel, my wife, simply is a better person than I am. Less egotistical, more compassionate and generous. Here’s an example. Last week we stopped at the Mountain High Grocery in Detroit, our habitual halfway pit stop when driving back and forth from Salem to our cabin in Camp Sherman. The coffee is good, the toilets are clean, and the snacks plentiful. Nirvana. This visit I also wanted an Oregonian for my reading pleasure after we got home. Looking to my left as I walked through the Mountain High…

After years of blogging, it occurred to me that I’ve never written about my bathroom habits. This oversight needs to be corrected. After all, some of my most satisfying moments occur on the toilet. Now, you might be thinking, “Brian, you need to get a life.” But going to the bathroom is part of my life. And since I’m a vegetarian, it takes up a larger share of my day than it does for most people. Yes, it’s a scientific fact. Vegetarians and vegans kick butt, so to speak, when it comes to the frequency of bowel movements (detailed BM…

I keep hearing of more and more people my age—late 50s, early 60s—who are moving to easy care condos with a few potted plants on the deck. Every year at field mowing time this seems like a damn good idea to me. And also, a horrible prospect. We’ve got about a dozen grassy areas on the five acres surrounding our house that need an annual mowing. Reasons: reduce fire danger, aesthetics, keep brush from growing in. Side benefit: gain insight into the adage, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” This is a unpleasant job. My attitude hasn’t changed from…

I’m hugely proud of my grocery list system. I’ve worked on it for many years, evolving it into a highly refined state. It’s time to offer it to the world. Behold The Hines Household Grocery List! Click on this thumbnail and let it enlarge (erotic, isn’t it?) so that we can examine the fine points together. Now, the main use of this list is for my weekly shopping expedition. I’m the designated grocery hunter. I bring back the bulk of the supplies. My goal is to get everything on the list and to waste little time on getting anything that…

[Update, June 22: I'm pleased to report that I've received a bare foot pardon from the Courthouse Athletic Club. The River Road location, at least. Gary, the manager, says that it is OK to be shoeless in the corner of the weight room where I like to do my Tai Chi and Yoga thing. Thanks, Gary. I ordered some lightweight kung fu shoes before I got the news, though, and may end up wearing them at the club. Regardless, it's nice to have the bare feet option. I appreciate the support I received via comments from the bare foot community,…

Vive le difference. My wife is happy now that we have tile rather than carpet downstairs. I was content with what was there before, but I’m happy she’s happy. As for me, I’m thrilled that, when I mowed the tallish grass today, my new DR Field and Brush Mower didn’t leave clumps of cuttings all over the lawn. To Laurel, this earns a big yawn. But she wasn’t the one who had to keep going over the lines of grass clumps produced by my old side-discharge, three blade, non-mulching mower. I’d remow some clumpy cuttings, which would merely shoot the…

Nice headline, if I may say so myself. Which, since this is my blog, I am. I should clarify, though, that by “community” I basically mean “me.” Nonetheless, this is a big story for baby carrot crunchers: the King of Baby Carrots, Robert Grimm, died recently. At age 54. Of a heart attack. When I saw this in TIME’s “Milestones” section I almost choked. On a baby carrot. I eat a lot of baby carrots. My wife makes me. At the age of 57 I still need babying. “This is why,” Laurel tells me, “married men live longer than single…

I’m pleased to report that, to coin a phrase, major combat operations in the HinesLand blackberry war ended today. Victory is ours! Well, mine, since my wife handles the mopping up and reconstruction duties, while I take care of the heavy duty combat. My last dispatch from the War on Blackberries was November 2004. In that communiqué I said, “We will not rest until every last offshoot of the Himalayan Blackberry evil-doers has been brought to justice.” Indeed, we, by which I mean me, haven’t. After the battlefield shifted to our newly-acquired five acres, as reported in “We buy some…