Welcome to vastbranch.com

So Becky and I (and our beautiful appendage) are back from our trip to outer-space, a.k.a. our trip to Boston and the middle-of-nowhere.

Clem, as expected, was perfect on the plane. What else could we expect from such an easy-going baby? He also paid-out for his grandparents by figuring-out crawling and cutting his first tooth while we were there. My mother got the joy of discovering the tooth. He was working on pulling up to standing before we left Texas, but only worked it out for real in the Logan airport Hilton. Yesterday we all had jetlag and slept until one. Today I awoke at dawn (7:30) and Becky arose shortly after. Clem tried to have jetlag again after spending most of the midnight hours of last night screaming and bouncing in his cot. But he awoke before ten and Becky found him standing in his cot holding onto the bars and screaming.

The trip was a roaring success and I am busy now that we’re back, but I have a lot of pics to put up and I want to get them up before too long, so I’ll do my best.

I hope everyone is well, all over the world. Cynicism says no.

Obviously, the election. The last post about George Bush beginning and ending with a bang generated some serious debate and discussion about the election and politics in general. I think even then we all had our answer, we knew Obama was going to win, but now it’s (roughly) official. Come on, Virginia, count those frigging ballots!

At the start of the campaign process I was leaning towards McCain. I wasn’t going to vote for him, but I hoped he would win. I was against Hillary because I don’t like political dynasties — we might as well have a monarchy if every president’s wife and son have a shot at the post. And I was against Obama because there was something about him I didn’t like. I still feel a certain unease. He’s a little too slick, maybe. I also disapprove of his taxation policies, and I was very concerned with his aim to pull us out of Iraq. McCain was supposed to be a rebel outsider Republican who stood for less government, lower taxes, and fighting the radical right wing and the toxic type of Christians who are devouring the soul of American society.

Alas, it wasn’t to be. As the campaign progressed, John McCain failed to fulfill his rebel role and knuckled under to the far right by naming Sarah Palin as his VP candidate. In the debates, he was atrocious. He looked like a simpering idiot next to the calm, assured, articulate Barack Obama. That Joe the Plumber gag really pissed me off. What a gaffe. Obama nailed it at a rally when he said, “How many plumbers do you know who earn $250,000?” McCain stopped looking like the different Republican and started looking like more of the same. Unfortunately for him, I think that made the election a lot less tight than it would have been otherwise. If he had really run his own campaign, run it in his own style, maybe he would have had a chance. But I wonder if a man his age can have the energy to do that.

By the end of the election I was not going to vote for Obama but hoped he would win. Although, by the very end, if I had ever received my absentee ballot, I would have considered voting for Obama. Because the Republican party’s voters are a shameful bunch. Country First? They should have made holographic campaign buttons that alternately read ME FIRST when twisted to the light.

People voted for McCain because they feared Obama. He was a scary Muslim; he was a nigga from the hood and was going to give all the government’s money to crackheads; he was a Commie (Sooooooocialiiiiiist!); he was going to raise taxes; he would allow terrorists to kill us all. I don’t think anyone voted for McCain because he was the right man to lead the country. As usual in America, fear was the driving force. If there was a non-selfish reason for voting McCain, I haven’t heard it. It may sound moralizing of me, but life lived without ethics is as pointless and savage as life lived without wine, music, friendship.

This time our fear did not win. The better candidate will preside. The candidate who actually stood for Country First — not just the rich sector of the country — but the whole country, including the poor, the weak, the stupid and the strange. Including even McCain voters. Obama’s victory speech was excellent. Measured and sober. I wish him luck and wish him a long, assassin-free life.

Well, not really, but what the hell. This financial crisis is amazing, is it not?

I am very curious about the interplay of media/rumour and actual economic downturn. For example, I think all the talk here in Britain about higher prices actually made businesses raise their prices before they needed to. This of course lead to general higher prices.

I also think that when people started hearing about higher prices and a weakening economy, it made them say, “Well, if I’m going under, fuck it, I’m not paying that bill, I’ll go to Spain instead!” And then that leads to actual mortgage defaults and bad debt floating around.

Obviously the banks stopped lending to one another based on fear of bad debt; because of some actual bad debt, they began fearing all debt was bad, and stopped lending. The result is real trouble for them as they cannot afford to pay their bills.

I’d like to know more about this topic: how rumour and talk actually affect economic function.

On a slightly happier note, isn’t it great that the Bush 2 era is ending like this? This guy comes to power almost eight years ago, and as he does, the most potent symbols of America’s global economic might come crashing down in a cloud of dust. Then, as he leaves power, the actual economic might of America is crashing down… leaving only a glorious spray of rainbow-coloured banker-sweat drifting gently, and landing softly on his ignorant smirk and stickout ears.

Fantastic!

Becky has recently started Clem on solid foods. So far things have gone well (knock on wooden spoon). The first non-breast milk food Clem ate was ‘baby rice’ which is rice for babies. What does that mean? I don’t know, you look it up. Second, he had banana. Then, for the first time in his young life yesterday, he tasted carrot.

He has been staring at our food, watching us eat with intense interest, possibly muttering to himself that he is being ripped off big time, for a while now. He reaches for our plates whenever an opportunity presents itself. He quite regularly insists on feeding when Becky is eating, as if to say, “I recognise what’s happening here — and I’m not going to miss out on the action!”

When the NHS weaning advisor visited us a few months ago, she said we should hold off weaning until 6 months, if we could. If we could… words which turned out to be more meaningful than we expected. With Clem nearing 20 pounds and still growing steadily, his caloric requirements have begun to outstrip Becky’s patience if not her physiology. We started giving him water from a cup with the intention of feeding him milk in this manner but we haven’t yet tried milk-in-cup. Still, the cup-drinking really seemed to open Clem’s mind as to the possibilities of non-breast related drinking/feeding and we decided to start him on mashed solid foods.

And so…

Clem eating banana. And wearing banana. And playing with banana. He really loves banana.

Eyeing banana. His reaction to carrot after three days of banana was not entirely positive, though, in Becky’s words, he seemed to accept the flavour after a while and did in fact eat carrot if not with as much gusto as he ate banana.

It isn’t easy to photograph Clem doing things like eating because he gets distracted by the camera and just wants to stare at whatever it is I’m doing. He loves straps of all sorts but especially filthy ones and my camera strap is no exception. As he gets faster and more adroit I’m going to have to be careful.

He likes to handle the spoon himself, and can do so fairly well, though you must make sure he grasps the spoon near the spoon part (what is that called? dish? bowl?) or he’ll choke himself with it.

A beautiful end of summer sunset over the Ouse. Just to show Clem isn’t the only subject I photograph.

Clem playing with the toy attached to the retainer bar on his push chair. He makes this face when he concentrates, pursing his lips, breathing heavily. It seems to work. I might try it next time I play tennis.

He has developed an interest in Gordon. And of course Gordon is interested in him. Clem especially likes to stroke Gordon’s ears and to pet his eyes.

Close up.

Here be de baby settin’ on de couch.

And asleep at my side, holding his cloth book.