Humble Tidbits of Vacuity

I've Moved

2009-04-13T10:40:00.001-04:00

I can now be found at http://www.textualintercourse.wordpress.com.

Thank you.

I Was 16 My First Time

2009-01-20T21:25:00.001-05:00

Laws Cannot Prevent Underage Sex... It only Makes Sex Offenders Out of Children

ABBA Dabba Doo

2009-01-16T16:09:00.002-05:00

Several months ago, we were over at my sister-in-law’s house for something, a birthday party most likely, and A was having a good time with her cousin playing Nintendo Wii. They were playing High School Musical: Sing It. This is a game where songs from the movie are played and you sing along with them into a microphone and the game judges you on your pitch and durations of the notes. Despite the fact that A isn’t into High School Musical, she had an absolutely great time singing along with the songs.

Since the movie Mamma Mia came out, A has been totally digging on ABBA. She loved the Mamma Mia soundtrack and asked us to get ABBA albums out of the library. She’d walk around the house with her headphones on singing ABBA. We’d be in the van listening to the Mamma Mia soundtrack and she’d be singing the songs.

Three weeks ago, we went to Target to look for a birthday present for one of her friends. A went to the toys to look around while L and I went around to get some things that we needed (dishwasher soap, Capri Suns, etc). When we got to the toy department, A wasn’t there. Not to worry, though. She wasn’t far off. She was in the video game section, just standing before the cabinet with eyes wide as wide could be.

There, on the top shelf behind the glass, was a game. Singstar: ABBA. It’s the same kind of game as the High School Musical one I talked about earlier, only it’s on the PS2. And it’s ABBA. And her birthday was coming up.

“That’s what I want for my birthday,” she said. “That right there.” I told her that we’d have to do some research on the game to see what songs were on it and read reviews and what not in order to see if it was really something she wanted. We also informed her that it was going to be much more than the $30 (the cost of the game) because we would also have to purchase the microphones, which were going to be another $25.

I knew that she REALLY wanted this game when she said, “I could use some of my Christmas money to buy the microphones!”

I gave her the text-book parent answer. “We’ll see.”

Well, her birthday came and one of the presents she opened up was Singstar: ABBA. She hugged it and didn’t want to put the box down.

“Can we put it in?” she asked.

“Uhhh, I guess. But we don’t have the microphones.”

“So? I just want to hear the songs. There are some I don’t know and I want to at least listen to them before I have to sing them.”

So we put the game in and set it up with a throwaway profile so she could listen to the songs. Two days later, it was the weekend and all she kept asking was, “When can we go to GameStop to get the microphones? Can we go now? What about now? What about after lunch? When can we go?”

We went after dinner and she bought the microphones. We arrived at home and she was on the floor opening the box before she had even taken her coat off.

The next 3 hours was as close to an ABBA concert as I’ll ever get. Or want to get. She was having the time of her life, belting out Dancing Queen, The Winner Takes It All, Mamma Mia, and others.

And you know what? It looked like one hell of a good time. We set up S.O.S. as a duet and I sang with her. Her sister sang songs with her. L sang songs with her. And even Z sang with her. Everyone was having a good time. So good, in fact, that I’ll be purchasing SingStar: 80’s on payday.

I’m looking forward to singing Culture Club, Wham, and Flock of Seagulls.

Yes. I am a dork.

Books vs. Movies

2009-01-06T09:56:00.000-05:00

I’m an avid reader. I always have a book to read. I think the longest time I’ve spent between finishing one book and starting another is 2 or 3 days.

I like watching movies, too. After a day of working and an evening with the kids, there’s nothing better than spending a couple of hours “decompressing” in front of a TV screen.

Sometimes, these two things become intertwined, for there are plenty of movies out there in the world that are based on a book.

For years and years, I’ve been of the opinion that, if a movie is a based on a book, I should read the book first. It’s taken me 38 years to realize that this, in my humble, vacuous opinion, has been a mistake.

The beginnings of this conclusion began with Harry Potter. I had no interest in reading Sorcerer’s Stone when it first came out. I had glanced at it in the bookstore and immediately put it down when I saw the word “wizard.” I’ve never been able to really get into books with wizards, trolls, elves, orcs, etc. (However, I WILL read The Lord of the Rings before I die. I’ve been trying to read those books since I was 16, but that’s a completely different story.)

In 2003, my family saw the movie Sorcerer’s Stone. And we loved it. We bought that movie and Chamber of Secrets and we loved that one too. I was sold. We bought the books and I began reading them to my daughter. When the movie version of Prisoner of Azkaban came out, we had already read that book. When we saw the movie, we were disappointed. We didn’t enjoy it as much as the previous 2 movies. So much had been left out of the story. At the time, it was easy to blame it on the change of directors. Chris Columbus directed the first 2 movies. Alfonso Cuaron directed the third. Every Potter film as initially been disappointing, but after subsequent viewings they have become more enjoyable.

More recently, there were the movies Hostage and Gone Baby Gone. I really enjoyed the books, but as for the movies……not so much.

Which brings me to The Ruins. The Ruins is a 2008 horror film. The DVD looked promising, but I didn’t have high hopes because a) I had never heard of it before and b) it’s a horror film. Typically, that’s a recipe for bad. But I borrowed it from the library and was surprised at how good it actually was. To be clear, this will never be a classic and it won’t win any type of award or anything, but it was pretty good (and graphic) for what it was.

A few weeks later, I was at the library again and I saw a book called The Ruins. It jumped out at me because I recently saw the movie. As I read the description, I thought it sounded WAY too much like the movie to be a coincidence. A quick check of the DVD box confirmed that the movie was based on the book. Screenplay for the movie was done by the book’s author. So I checked out the book and read it. It was a pretty darn, good book.

Now, the thing is, this is a book I would never have read. In fact, if I knew the movie was based on the book, I don’t think I would have ended up seeing the movie knowing what the book was about. And if, by some chance, I did read the book before seeing the movie, I would not have liked the movie (for there were many, many changes).

So…the movie (which I enjoyed) helped me enjoy the book as well. Had I read the book first, the best scenario would have been that I liked the book but hated the movie.

So, my long standing rule is changing. When it comes to movies based on books, I will see the movie before reading the book. Maybe that will help me get through The Lord of the Rings. Although I’ve tried watching Fellowship of the Ring several times and can’t seem to make it though without getting completely confused.

Thanksgiving

2008-12-01T09:59:00.000-05:00

Being a picky eater, I’ve never enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner....and more and more often, Thanksgiving as a whole.

When I was a kid, the table would be filled with all sorts of Thanksgiving food and I’d be eating a bowl of cereal. As time passed, special concessions weren’t made for me anymore (rightly so!) and I had to eat what was available.

My Thanksgiving dinner, since I was about 12 or so, has been dinner rolls. Maybe a small slice of turkey (think Post-It note size). Maybe a couple spoonfuls of corn.

And every year, it’s like it’s some sort of surprise.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yep.”

“That’s it????”

“It’s fine.”

“But there’s stuffing and sweet potatoes and gravy and green beans and turkey and beets and cranberry sauce…”

“Nope, this roll is all I need.”

“I’ve never heard of someone eating rolls for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Sure you have. Every year for the last 15 this is what I’ve eaten.”

And the rest of the day, it’s more of the same.

“You sure you don’t want any (insert food item here)?”

“Nope, I’m good thanks.”

It just keeps going until I get upset and say something like, “Look…if I wanted (food item), I’d have eaten it. I don’t want any. Stop asking me about it, ok?”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go hungry.”

“I’m 38 years old. I don’t need anyone to make sure that I eat. I don’t need to be reminded that there’s food here. I’m not going to leave the house and say ‘but nobody told me there was…whatever’. It’s Thanksgiving. There’s food here. I get it. I’ve eaten what I want, so just let it go.”

That conversation, in some form or other, happens. Every. Single. Year.

I don’t like Thanksgiving.

Facebook

2008-11-22T18:22:00.003-05:00

The passage of time is an interesting thing. It's funny how some things so far away while other things, that may have happened earlier, seem like yesterday.

Recently, through the magic that is Facebook, I have become "friends" with people whom I haven't seen in...well...decades; former classmates, ex girlfriends, people I used to work with, etc.

In some instances, people I went to Jr. High School with don't seem as long ago as some ex co-workers. An ex-girlfriend seems like a lifetime ago, but my next door neighbor from 1977 only seems like a few years.

Regardless of how little or how much time has passed, I find it interesting to be able to see people who have been in my life at one point or another. Some have had a dramatic impact on my life, some less so. But all are people I am proud to have known.

A Pen is Just a Pen, Isn't It?

2008-09-11T09:55:00.001-04:00

I don’t understand the expensive pen.

To me, a Write Bros. pen is just fine and dandy. I can get a dozen for a fraction of the cost of the expensive ones.

Heuristically Programmed Algorithmic Computer

2008-08-12T09:41:00.000-04:00

I hate the goddamn U-SCAN machines at my local grocery store. I have never been able to use these “convenient” devices without it becoming necessary for an attendant to get involved.

Take the other day, for example. That morning, my daughter was making oatmeal and discovered that we were out of milk. So I ran up to the store to get some. I ended up getting 2 gallons of milk and two small boxes of donuts. There was 1 checkout lane open and there were 6 people in line. I didn’t want to wait, so I thought I’d give the U-SCAN a try. I hadn’t used the U-SCAN in about 6 months because of previous less-than-satisfactory experiences, but I thought “what the hell.”

So I scan my first gallon of milk and it tells me to place the item in the bag. I do. It tells me (again) to place the item in the bag. At this point, my shoulders slumped. I looked to the sky and heaved a sigh that unmistakably said, “For the sake of all that is holy in this god-awful world….WHY?” Meanwhile the machine repeated its request: “Please place the item in the bag.” I lifted the milk out of the bag and set it down again. The U-SCAN continued with, “Please place the item in the bag.” Again, I lifted the milk and set it down again. This did nothing, for the U-SCAN still wished for me to “place the item in the bag.”

Now, even though these are U-SCAN machines, there is an employee of the store stationed in the area to help customers in need, to accept checks as payment, etc. I signaled for help. He came over and asked what the problem was. I told him. The machine, ever so politely, made its request again: “Please place the item in the bag.” You know what the employee did? He picked up the milk in the bag and set it down again. And it fucking worked.

“Sometimes you have to pick it up and set it down again,” he explained.

“Gosh, really? Thanks, I’ll remember that from now on.” He smiled and went back to his employee station. I turned back to machine and scanned my next gallon of milk.

“Please place the item in the bag.” I set it in the bag and nothing happened. After a few moments, the U-SCAN said, “Please place the item in the bag.” So I lift the milk up and set it down again. This time, however, the U-SCAN said, “Please wait for an attendant.”

What. The. HELL.

I turned to signal the attendant and found that he was already walking in my direction with some hand-held thing in his hands. He looked at my screen, pressed a few buttons on his hand-held and my scan registered. I started to thank him, but he was already walking back to his station. I scanned the first box of donuts.

“Please wait for an attendant.”

I stood there and shook my head in resignation. The attendant appeared at my shoulder, looking at my screen and pressing buttons on his hand-held. My scan registered. “Please place the item in the bag.” I did so, fully expecting no confirmation that I had done so. However, in a stunning turn of events, it did not repeat its request and was patiently waiting for me to scan my next item. I scanned the second box of donuts.

“Please wait for an attendant.”

“Suck on my dick.”

The attendant reappeared again, looking at my screen and pressing buttons. The scan registered, he disappeared. “Please place the item in the bag.” I put the box on top of the other box of donuts and pressed the PAY NOW button. Of course, there was NO ISSUE WHATSOEVER the payment process. That’s not surprising, really. It’ll take your money just fine.

I left the store with a strengthened resolve to not use the U-SCAN again. But I’m sure, in a future moment of weakness, I’ll forget the intensity of my current feelings and I’ll be lured into giving it another shot.

Microwave Shmicrowave

2008-07-07T11:58:00.002-04:00

Anybody ever have a microwave oven that actually defrosts well?

I've never seen one that can. The two we had when I was a kid, the one we had in our first apartment, the one that came with the house that we bought, and the new one I just installed a week ago...none have been able to defrost in anything close to a convenient time.

Saturday night, my wife wanted to make lettuce wraps. As with all recipies, she doubles or triples the batch, so we had to defrost 6 frozen chicken breasts. I figured I'd do 3 in the microwave, and I'd do 3 by hand under the kitchen faucet (or tap, for all my British readers). The 3 I did by hand were defrosted in about 10 minutes. In the microwave, it took about 35 minutes.

That just seems weird to me.

Dead On!

2008-05-12T10:52:00.001-04:00

http://www.wetherobots.com/2008/05/12/bobs-memoir-part-2/

This actually could have been about me. It totally hits the nail right on the head.

All Over The Place

2008-04-16T15:33:00.001-04:00

Something happened this past weekend that, quite simply, cannot paint a better picture that shows how different I am from the other parents at school.

This past weekend was an overnight campout for the cub scouts. Not a campout with tents and stuff. We were in a structure at the official scouting camp for this region. There was electricity, but no heat. There were beds, but with those really thin vinyl mattresses. A good time was had by all who attended.

ANYWAY…after the kids had gone to bed (or at least, into their rooms), we adults were sitting around the campfire. Apparently, I had completely zoned out because one of the guys nudged me and said, “You look like your deep in thought.”

My reply was, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Is it personal?”

“Umm….no, not really.”

“Well, lay it on us then.”

I glanced around, shrugged and said, “OK. I was just sitting here looking at the fire and I started thinking about how people sat around fires hundreds of thousands of years ago, which got me thinking about cavemen, which got me thinking about the movie Quest For Fire. It’s a movie from the early 80’s and I saw it on cable. It was the first movie I saw that depicted sex on the screen. Nothing graphic, ya know. But there was this scene where a cavewoman was squatting by a river or something getting a drink and this caveman came up on her from behind and started humping her. That got me thinking about my dogs because both of them are in heat. Even though they are both female, one of my dogs mounts the other one, and that’s just strange. Thinking about my dogs, I was thinking about how they have different colored collars…one purple and one green. I remember specifically making the decision to have two different colored collars because it would be like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, where each one of the turtles had differently colored bandanas. Leo was blue, Don was purple, Mike was orange, and Raph was red. Thinking about the turtles reminded me of how I used to play with the action figures when I was a teenager. I was a fan of the comics and it was fun to have the action figures. Not the same kind of fun that I had with Star Wars and G.I. Joe action figures. I used to play with those a lot. We’d be outside in the dirt and stuff and we’d set up the G.I. Joe’s like they were assaulting the fortress of the bad guys and stuff. When that kind of thing got boring, we played ‘real-life’ G.I. Joe, where we’d have our toy guns running around the neighborhood shooting each other. Which is kind of what I do now, but on the computer instead. Some guys from work and I play Call of Duty 4, which is a war-game kind of video game where you’re running around in a computer generated arena shooting each other. And then I got to thinking about how advanced video games have come in the last 30 years or so. I had an Atari 2600 when I was a kid and one of my favorite games was Megamania. That was a game where these ships flew across the top of the screen and your ship, at the bottom, had move back and forth shooting the ones at the top. The fast you cleared a lever, the more points you got. I always thought the ship I controlled looked like the Starship Enterprise from Star Trek; the original series, not The Next Generation or anything. That got me thinking about the new Star Trek movie that’s coming out next year and how all new actors are playing the original series characters and I was wondering if it was going to be a more realistic vision of the future or if they were going to have some 60’s throw back stuff, like with the miniskirts and stuff. I always found it strange that girls, like in the old Star Trek and even now in Tennis, have as part of the outfit the portion that looks like underwear. In fact, in the Star Trek technical manual I have, they have patterns for making the uniforms if you want, and that part of the female uniform is actually called the uniform panty. And I was wondering why it’s ok to show that when walking around or playing tennis but take great pains to not display their real underwear when wearing jeans or pants or stuff. That, then got me thinking about the Victoria’s Secret catalog and I was wondering why it’s just ONE bra but a PAIR of panties. That’s when you asked what I was thinking.”

All was quiet for a few seconds, except for the crackling of the fire, and one guy finally said, “Wow.”

Another said, “I was just thinking about a time when I was around a fire when my dad and I were on a fishing trip when I was a kid.”

I said, “I was all over the place.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

And then the talk became about fishing and golf and stuff. I sat there for a while, not joining in because I don’t know the first thing about fishing OR golf. Finally, we all decided to turn in. The fire was put out and we went to bed.

Story of My Life

2008-04-09T11:17:00.000-04:00

So…I was sitting here trying to think of something to write about. And I couldn’t think of anything. So I turned to Google and searched for “ideas for blog topics.” One of the pages that the search returned was called 101 Great Posting Ideas That Will Make Your Blog Sizzle.

Number 73 of the 101 said to “Create a post that incorporates the words, ‘desperate’ and ‘futile’”. Brilliant! That suggestion practically wrote the post for me!

I was desperate enough to do a Google search for blog posting ideas. However, it proved futile because I still have nothing of substance to say.

Dead Presidents

2008-04-07T12:17:00.000-04:00

When you think about it, money is just really arbitrary. Here’s a sheet of paper. It has a 5 on it. That means you have 5 dollars. If it had a 10 on it, you’d have 10 dollars.

Why is it arbitrary? Because sometimes businesses will accept Canadian money. That’s not legal tender here in the U.S. of A. But they’ll accept it. Oh, they won’t accept all types, mind you. You couldn’t pay for anything with a Canadian bill. That’s just not right. But a Canadian dime? Or a Canadian quarter? Or penny? They have no problem accepting that.

Case in point. There is a Family Dollar close to where I work. I can get a 20 oz. Diet Coke for $1.15 there. That right there is a bargain with a capital B. But I found out a way to get it cheaper.

About a week or so ago, I picked up what I thought was a quarter from the parking lot of a local Target store. But it was a Canadian quarter. I was initially disappointed because the vending machines at work (and everywhere else for that matter) simply do no take Canadian. I was about to give it to my kid when I had the grand idea. I would see if I could use this to pay for a 20 oz. Diet Coke at the Fam-D (as I like to call it). So, on payday Friday, I took a crisp one dollar bill and my Canadian quarter and went to get a Diet Coke. The cashier rang it up at $1.15, I gave her the dollar and the “quarter”, and I got a dime back. So, when all was said and done, I got me a 20 oz. Diet Coke for a grand total of 90 cents American.

As I said earlier, I probably couldn’t have done this with a Canadian dollar bill. But with the change, that’s a different story. Apparently, if it looks close enough to a quarter (or dime or penny), it will be accepted.

Our House...In The Middle Of The Street

2008-04-01T10:57:00.000-04:00

I moved out of my parents’ house in 1990. My parents sold their house and moved to a new one in 1991. The people who are living in my old house right now are the third owners of that house since my parents sold it. And the house is up for sale again.

This past Sunday, it was an Open House. I had no real desire to walk through and look at the house, because it’s not mine anymore and there would be no point. After 17 years, many things would be different and it just wouldn’t be the house that I remember…so why do it? You can’t go home again.

But…..my mom wanted to go have a look so I said that I would go with her. The changes that were made were quite glaring. But that was to be expected. My mom, however, seemed distraught by the changes. It had hard wood floors instead of carpeting, our living room is now the dining room and vice versa, the bathrooms and the kitchen had been TOTALLY redone. My mom was particularly concerned with the whole living room / dining room thing, and kept lamenting about it long after we left.

But I was surprised at some of the things that were exactly the same as I remember. For instance, the carpet on the stairs going from the 1st to 2nd floor is the same carpet (and it looked like it), the wallpaper in the closet of the room that was mine was the same, as was the glass covering of the light fixture in the upstairs bathroom.

But it’s what I saw in the basement that was really unexpected and surprising to me. Above the little storage area underneath the basement steps, hung on a hook, was my old, plastic, personalized light switch cover plate. It has a drawing of a boy on the left hand side, and above the little rectangle where the switch would be is my name. Of course, this is not where I had last seen it. When I moved out, it was still performing its duty as a light switch cover plate in my old bedroom. My mom said that they never took it off the wall when they moved out.

So to sum up…through 3 different owners and over the course of 18 years, that plastic wall switch cover plate of mine has remained in that house. I don’t know if it’s been in different places in the house over the years, or if the people who bought it from my parents put it there. But it is nothing beyond stunning to me that after all this time it’s still there and in a quite accessible place.

Yesterday, I e-mailed the realtor who is selling the house. I told him who I was, why I had gone through the house, what I had found, and asked about the possibility of reclaiming that personalized, plastic light switch cover. Today, I received an e-mail from the realtor telling me that he’s forwarded my e-mail to the owners of the house and will let me know. It would be the coolest of all things cool if I’m able to get it.

A Day

2008-03-24T16:34:00.000-04:00

For the last 2 weeks, I’ve opened up MS Word and stared at a blank document wondering what to say about…….anything.

For the last 2 weeks, I haven’t had anything to say about ………anything.

So, instead of just letting the days go by without updating, I’ll just start talking about what I did today.

I woke up this morning at 7:30 after staying up until 4am playing Call of Duty 4 on the PC. We took Z to a Dr. appointment at 9am, which lasted until 9:50.

After that, I went to work. So far I’ve applied a software update, helped move some office furniture around, got a list of necessary files together for a company that we’re outsourcing some work to.

For lunch today, I met up with an old friend from high school. He was a half-hour late because he got stuck in a meeting. I had a calzone with bacon.

While I was waiting for him to arrive, I came up with a list of the books I’d like to read: Lord of the Flies, The Outsiders, Hound of the Baskervilles, A Christmas Carol, Stranger in a Strange Land, War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man, Peter Pan, Robinson Crusoe, all the Harry Potter books again, Gone Baby Gone, Sissy Nation, The Lord of the Rings saga, The Italian Secretary, Guns of the South, Time and Again, From Time to Time, The Forge of God, Darwin’s Radio, I Robot, 2001 A Space Odyssey, Childhood’s End, Timescape, Contact, The Exorcist, and A Separate Peace (cuz I never read it in high school).

After lunch, I installed some programs a girl here at work needed onto a laptop.

Later tonight Z has baseball practice. I don’t know if we’re going to go since it is spring break and there may only be a few people there. If we don’t go, the family and I are going to the mall. My wife wants to stop at the Franklin-Covey store for some stuff.

The Big Bang Theory is on tonight and I hope to be able to watch I Am Legend…the alternate version with (in my humble vacuous opinion) the better ending, instead of that stupid ending that was in the theatrical release. I’m also going to enter my Coke Rewards Codes into my account at mycokerewards.com. I’ve got about 40 that have been sitting around waiting for me to do just that.

Later.

Hey, Kids...What Time Is It?

2008-03-10T14:34:00.001-04:00

I’m not a fan of the time change. This past weekend, we entered “Daylight Saving Time.” For those who don’t know what that is, that’s the time of year when we move our clocks ahead 1 hour. Ostensibly, this is done to save energy. More daylight means less use of electricity. Or so they hope. In the fall, we will set our clocks back 1 hour. This is done…..well, I don’t know WHY it’s done. I think the whole thing is ridiculous. I’m all for more daylight, so why don’t we just keep it this way from now on?

Anyway, as I get older these time changes really fuck with my internal clock. It never used to be that way. Sure, there was an adjustment period for the first day or two. But anymore, it takes me a week or so to internally come to grips with the new time. And that really doesn’t make sense to me. I typically get 3-4 hours of sleep each night. There’s no reason for me to become overtired because of this.

Lady Luck

2008-02-20T14:13:00.000-05:00

OK, so….I was at my daughter’s indoor soccer game a week and a half ago. I like watching indoor soccer. It just moves faster than outdoor soccer. But anyway…

I’m not sure if this is how all indoor soccer arenas are set up, but this one has netting that goes all around the sides and across the top. When a team causes the ball to hit the netting, it’s considered something like “out of bounds” and the other team gets the ball at approximately the spot where it hit the net.

Well, at the game, the ball was kicked and it hit the net right in front of the stands were we were sitting. This one woman about two rows down from me hunkered down and put her arms up to protect herself. I guess this is a normal reaction…to protect yourself…even though the net is there to prevent such and unfortunate eventuality from occurring. Anyway, when she un-hunkered and realized that she was indeed safe from harm, she said, “Wow! It’s lucky that net was there!”

And I just sat there in disbelief. Because there was no “luck” involved in what had just transpired. It wasn’t some accidental occurrence that had placed the net at that spot at that time. The net was placed there by design, in order to do exactly what it did: protect the spectator.

Idiot.

Contains Previously Released Material, But Modified So As Not To Be Repetitive

2008-02-07T13:13:00.000-05:00

You have no idea how difficult this is for me. I’m sure there are plenty of things I could write about here, if I weren’t so indifferent about, well, pretty much everything.

I’ve seen many blogs across the tubes of the Internet where the author has asked his/her readers “Why did you start your blog?” I’ve never answered this question because I never had an answer other than, “I dunno.” But I’ve been thinking about it in the back of my mind for quite some time now. And while I don’t have an answer that starts with something like, “I started my blog in order to ________,” I will say that whenever I do post something, it makes me feel good.

Why is that, you might ask?

Well, I think it’s because writing stuff down forces me to pay attention to and engage things I’ve seen and done in my life…something that I don’t do all that often.

But, Kevin, that doesn’t make sense. How can you not pay attention to and engage things that you, yourself, have been a part of?

Good question, and maybe those are the wrong words. I just know that in the past 2 weeks, I’ve played racquetball twice, gone to and indoor water park, gone to Dave & Busters, dealt with my car (which is on its last legs) not being able to start for 30-40 minutes after turning it off, and helped coach 3 basketball games. And I don’t really have anything more to say about having done any of it, other than factually state that I did those things. It doesn’t matter to me whether I did those things or not, and I often have to think very hard about what I could write about. It’s almost a chore for me to identify something I could write about and then actually write something more substantial than “I went to the grocery store today.”

“Horse hockey!” you might say. You might also say, “You’ve had this blog since 2003. Don’t tell me you have a hard time coming up with things to write about.”

Well, truth be told, I’m actually rather surprised that I’m still making posts after almost 5 years. And also, it takes me a while to write my posts (unless, of course, it’s a funny video I want to share). I would say that, on average, it takes me about 2 hours to write my posts. That, of course, doesn’t count the time I spend thinking about what I’ve done and seen that interests me enough to say more than, “I went to the grocery store today.” In fact, it’s taken me about 4 hours over the last 3 days just to get to this spot in this post. I’ve gotten e-mails from a few people who’ve said that they liked my blog, but wished I would post more often. That’s fantastic that someone would say that. But it’s just so damn exhausting for me to a) identify something interesting enough to write about and b) talk about why it was interesting, how it made me think/feel, etc.

And I’m sure someone out there is going to say something like, “You’re over-thinking it.” But I HAVE to over-think it. Otherwise my post would read like, “Read the paper today.” “Water in the shower wouldn’t turn off.” “Ate dinner.”

But that’s exactly how I go through my life. It’s ridiculous the amount of effort it takes for me to expound on any of it.

This Made Me Laugh

2008-01-28T10:24:00.000-05:00

Once again, I tried embedding the video. And once again, I was greeted with spectacular failure. So, you'll just have to click the link.

F-bombs galore, so it's NSFW. But it's damn funny.

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/40fa73e376

I Am Legend

2008-01-21T15:43:00.000-05:00

I saw I Am Legend on Saturday. Despite the fact that it was different from the book, I found myself enjoying the movie very much. But while the first hour was fantastic, the last half hour seemed rushed, forced, and thrown together. The end of the movie came up on my so quickly, I was left there with a handful of popcorn halfway to my mouth wondering, “That’s it?” Then I started thinking about how it could have been better. I think it would have been better if it was more like the book, where Neville ends up being, at least in the view of the infected, a monster (like vampires are to us). He becomes a legend to them, as the title indicates. Instead, we got an ending of hope, with the title referring to Neville being the creator of, and eventually the one who cures, the disease. Ultimately, I was disappointed in the movie.

I realize that movies that are made from books can’t be just like the books. There’s too much internal dialogue, subplots, characters to force into a movie. Of course you have to leave some stuff out. But in many movies, they at least try to stay close to the general feeling of the book. I think everyone can agree that the Harry Potter movies pale in comparison to the books. But they do a good job and maintaining the feel and being as true as time will allow to the source material.

I’ve always been a proponent of reading the book first, if a movie I was interested in seeing was based off of a book. But lately, I’ve found that this just detracts from my enjoyment of the movie. Here’s a brilliant case in point: Hostage with Bruce Willis. I think that I would have liked this movie had I not read the book first. But, I got the book out of the library, read it, then watched the DVD. Hated it.

So, I Am Legend. Excellent first two-thirds, sub standard last third.

New Year's Resolution

2008-01-08T16:45:00.000-05:00

I’ve never been one to make a New Year’s Resolution. I am who I am, and I don’t make any apologies for that. Certainly, there are some things about myself that I believe could use improvement or things about me that I might need to change in order to enjoy a long life with friends and family. I don’t think that there’s anything magical about Jan 1. Just because it’s the start of the new year, doesn’t mean that it should be the start of a new and improved me. I should be capable of making whatever changes I deem necessary at any time.

But there is one thing about me that I need to change. I’ve had a habit for about 23 years. I’ve tried breaking this habit several times, but I’ve never had any real success. I think the longest I’ve gone without was about 8 days. But it’s time to get serious. I’m ready to quit. And I’m going to do it cold turkey.

Because today, I found a website that lists quite a few different ways to help me break this habit. I really believe I can do it now.

Marian The Librarian

2008-01-03T13:19:00.000-05:00

There’s a new librarian at our neighborhood library. I’m not too fond of her. Recently, our library changed their “Items On Hold” procedures. In the past, you requested material, they called or e-mailed saying it was there, you went to pick it up, and they would get it off the shelf for you. The little slips of paper had the patron and the patron’s library card number on it, so they were able to just type the number in the computer and it really wasn’t necessary to give them your library card. I was able to pick up my wife’s books for here and she was able to pick up mine.

Now…when you’re informed your material is waiting, you have to go get it yourself from the Items On Hold shelf. They’re clearly labeled with your name so you can find it…but your library card number is no longer printed on the slip. This is so people just can’t swipe other patron’s material. The side effect is that the library staff no longer has the card information readily available and it must be provided by the patron. So far, I’m OK with that.

Except that this new librarian has given me several different stories when I try to pick up my wife’s stuff. First, it was that you actually needed to present the patron’s card. I could only pick up my wife’s stuff if I had her card. This, she said, was because there have apparently been divorce circumstances where vengeful spouses have picked up their soon-to-be-ex-significant-other’s material and then thrown them away, thereby racking up huge fines. She had no answer when I pointed out that I could perhaps murder my wife, take her library card, and check out material with the intent to steal it. She let it go, since it was a new system and I was obviously unprepared for it.

Several days later, I showed up to get more material and I had my wife’s card with me. And to put your mind at ease, no…I had not murdered her. Anyway, THIS time I was told that I didn’t actually need her card, as long as I could provide the library card number (which is something I can do due to our extensive use of the library website which required you to login with your card number). Again, she had no answer when I suggested that this didn’t solve the problem she originally presented me with. If we WERE getting divorced, I could still get my wife’s material and incur unbelievable fines if I just provided the card number. I decided to be an asshole kind of guy and pointed out that her original explanation to me (divorce situations) was either a mistake on her part or an intentional lie, and I just wanted to know which one it was. Of course, she said that she was a mistake on her part. Pushing it further, I said that was an odd mistake of reasoning to make, considering the obvious reason of the number not being available on the slip so the patron must provide it.

Then there was the time that material for both my wife and I were available. I brought it all up to the desk to check out. I handed her my books first and told her my card number. No problems occurred. Then I handed her my wife’s books and was told that if I wanted to check out her books, I needed to have her actual card. I pointed out that I hadn’t needed my actual card just moment ago when I checked out my books. THIS time she explained that she had no way of knowing if it was actually my wife’s card or not. I told her that the name would come up on the screen. She said that it’s possible that I would be providing a card number for a fictitious person and possibly be guilty of a third degree felony which is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of up to $10,000. She had no answer when I asked her how having the actual card in my hands could change that possibility, considering she’d get the same screen on her computer whether she hand typed the number in or scanned it in off the card. She then said that if a patron wants to allow material to be picked up by another patron, then there must be a written permission slip on file.

At that point, I’d had enough. I told her to get the manager. Now, I’ve known the manager for years. I told her that I understood the lady was new and that she’s just doing her job and that since she doesn’t know me she’s understandably wary about letting someone check out another patron’s material. That wasn’t my problem. My problem was all of the different stories and reasons I was being given in an effort to dissuade me. If she would have said, “Sorry, not allowed to do that,” I’d have been cool with that. I’d have gotten around it by talking with the manger, but I’d have been OK with the new girl following her rules. Just don’t come up with all these made up reasons and excuses that are so easily thwarted.

I Come In Peace

2007-12-20T10:31:00.000-05:00

December 22 is The 2nd Annual Global Orgasm For Peace. According to the website, they are doing this "to effect positive change in the energy field of the Earth through input of the largest possible instantaneous surge of human biological, mental and spiritual energy."

The group that's behind this collective Big O is trying to synchronize at the actual time of the Solstice, which is 6:08am Greenwich Mean Time (the time in London, England.) So, if you're interested, you can click HERE to check the actual time YOU'RE supposed to have your orgasm, because not everybody lives in London.

I'll be listening to this song...and this song...and also this song to celebrate the event.

Superbad

2007-12-18T23:59:00.000-05:00

I just saw the movie Superbad. Sweet Jesus, I haven't laughed that hard at a movie in a long time.

Decorations Shmecorations

2007-12-17T16:56:00.000-05:00

Last night, I did the thing I hate the most about the Christmas season: Stringing the lights on the Christmas tree. We have a fake tree, 11 layers high, each layer having 8 branches coming out of the trunk. My wife wants the lights woven up one side of each branch and down the other. This takes about 4 strands of lights. If it were up to me, I’d only use 2 strands and just wrap them around the tree. But, I do have to admit, that weaving all the lights throughout the tree does look much, much better. It’s just damn annoying and takes a good hour and a half. Then the ornaments went on.

What kinds of ornaments do you have? When I was a kid, my parents had the traditional red ball ornaments and silver ball ornaments. When I moved out of the house and had the experience of decorating my own tree, I had them as well. But as the years went by, those ornaments have been replaced with (except for just a couple of exceptions) the Hallmark Keepsake ornaments. We have Star Trek ornaments, Star Wars ornaments, Harry Potter, Tnkerbell, Pooh Bear, Peter Pan, anthropomorphic animals doing all sorts of activities like delivering mail, sledding, and snowball fighting…that kind of stuff. My mom isn’t very fond of our tree. She thinks it looks “patch-quilted.” Sure, it’s not as uniform as a tree with all red ball ornaments or something similar, but it is a tree that has plenty of representation for each of the five members of my family.

Drama Club

2007-12-11T10:33:00.000-05:00

Remember that school play that was cancelled and then un-cancelled?

Well, the drama ain't over yet.

That's Not Mayo!!!!!!!

2007-12-10T11:26:00.000-05:00

What did this guy find when he took a bite of his hamburger?

So far, I have been very fortunate to never have found a surprise of any kind when I've been eating.

Beyonce

2007-12-03T16:53:00.001-05:00

Can I PLEASE stop seeing Beyonce everywhere? Billboards and commercials, advertising everything from Pepsi to American Express to HDTV. And she’s always rehearsing in these commercials. I don’t need to buy a ticket to her actual concert, because I’ve apparently seen the whole show in rehearsals.

UPDATE!

2007-11-29T13:19:00.000-05:00

School Permits Performance Of Contested Play.

The Show Mustn't Go On

2007-11-27T16:01:00.000-05:00

Controversy Kills School Play

Gary Hines, president of a local NAACP chapter and operator of a diversity training company, has succeeded in getting Lakota High School to cancel the scheduled performances of Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians (more popularly known as And Then There Were None). His problem arises from the fact that waaayyyy back in 1939…and in a different country…the original title for Ms. Christie’s book was Ten Little Niggers. Never mind that it’s never been published under that title in America. Never mind that it isn’t even about race.

How long before taking a train on the railroad or wearing cotton clothing is considered racist due to their racist histories?

Diamonds Are Forever

2007-11-26T14:08:00.000-05:00

I’m not a conspiracy theorist or anything, but I think we are being fed a load of phoeey when it comes to the cost of diamonds.

“Diamonds are so expensive because they’re rare. It takes many many many years to make a diamond.”

Go into any mall in the country and you can find (at the very least) 1 jewelry store. Some malls even have 3 or 4. Not that malls are the only places that have jewelry stores, mind you. Jewelry stores are all over.

How many jewelry stores do you think are in the United States? Whatever number you come up with the answer is A LOT. There are plenty of jewelry stores all across this country. And each and every one of those jewelry stores has diamonds. Plenty of diamonds. Plenty of them.

Diamonds aren’t so rare. I could pick one up anytime I wanted to…provided I have the money. I would have a very good choice of diamonds IN EACH STORE. And I never have to worry about a shortage. There will always be jewelry stores, displaying their wares, having their diamonds under million watt halogen bulbs in order to dazzle you with their sparkly brilliance. I know I could go today….tomorrow….next month….or in a year and I’ll be able to pick up a diamond whenever I want.

I think the demand falls well short of the supply. It’s ridiculous how much those things cost.

Does Not Appeal To The Prurient Interest

2007-11-13T14:13:00.000-05:00

You may remember Topc #2 of this post. Well I found out that there is a sex offender that lives right around the corner from my house. Like, 4 houses away from me. My wife and I thought it strange that there wasn’t any mail notification or anything, because that guy didn’t live in the house last year. So we asked the guy across the street from us, who is a lawyer.

He learned that the guy was found guilty of date rape...12 years ago.

I don’t have an issue letting my kids go outside to play. I had no issue letting my kids go up to that house on Halloween and get candy from the man himself. However, I did think it strange that he was allowed to be there on Halloween. I thought sex offenders weren’t allowed to do Halloween.

Continuing with the sex motif…how ‘bout THIS story? Now, I don’t know exactly what was said or anything, and despite my belief that telling your kids about some of your own escapades is…kinda creepy…but I’m rather stunned at the FELONY charge. It’s not like she used her kids in the demonstration, not like she touched them in that special area and said, “See? Doesn’t that feel nice?” No, the felony charge was going to be for exposing the kids to harmful descriptions. But it was only a misdemeanor for exposed the kids to harmful material. Doesn’t that seem kind of backwards?

Grieving

2007-11-07T16:32:00.000-05:00

When my sister died back in 87 88 89 the late 80’s at the age of thirtysomething, my mom was devastated. And I mean devastated! When we got the call, she let out a wail that I can still hear like it was yesterday. And she cried for about a month. I swear that’s no exaggeration. It was for a whole month. My sister was my mom’s 4th child, and the 1st of 2 girls.

When my brother died last week at the age of 56, my mom certainly cried. He was her first born child. But she’s not displaying the intensity of grief that she did for my sister.

Of course, that could be attributed to many things. My brother was 56, not thirtysomething. He had 5 kids and several grandkids, my sister had had none. While he was my mom’s first born, he wasn’t a daughter and therefore didn’t have the mother/daughter bond. I don’t know.

But…my mom was functional on Friday (2 days after he died, 1 day before the funeral), running errands and doing grocery shopping. She was functional the evening after the funeral, as my twins and I spent the night there while my oldest had a sleepover at home. She had no problems making them dinner or breakfast the next day. There was no crying.

Until…

Sunday morning about 10:30, the phone rang. Z answered it and spoke with the person on the other end for a few moments before handing the phone to my mom and saying, “It’s Joanne.”

And then my mom changed. With a voice that sounded like it was such an effort to speak through the sobbing she said, “H-h-hello? N-no…I’m fine. I know I should go to church…::deep inhale::…but I just…just…can’t sobsobsob. I know. OK, bye.”

And then it stopped. With absolutely NO HINT of grief or sadness or any of what she was projecting through the phone she asked what our plans were for the rest of the day. The phone rang again and it was my (now) oldest brother. She spoke with him easily, solidifying the plans for the coming weekend when he is going to come down with a chain saw to cut down some bushes along the side of her house.

It was weird. It almost seemed like she was milking it for all it was worth when she had Joanne on the phone.

And I know that’s terrible of me to think, much less say, but that’s exactly what it seemed like.

This Is Like 2 Posts For The Price Of 1

2007-11-05T18:50:00.000-05:00

So…having the time change back an hour one week later than usual made the first part of Halloween kinda sucky. I don’t know about you, but our Trick-or-Treat times were from 6pm to 8pm, and at 6pm it was still daylight out. It didn’t start getting dark until about 7 or so. There was just something…unnatural…about watching kids walking around in broad daylight dressed up for Halloween. It was just weird. There’s this neighborhood “haunted house” that is set up every year during trick-or-treat time. It just wasn’t any good from 6-8. Not. Scary. At. All.

But…we spent all two hours walking all over our neighborhood. We carried extra bags with us so the kids could dump their candy when their baskets got full. They ended up dumping 4 times. We had a lot of candy to sort through when we got back home.

One of the great things about my kids is that they don’t get all that excited about their candy and want to eat eat eat. After we sorted the candy we had this great big mound of crap for me to take into work and leave in the break room, while each of the kids kept enough to fill their baskets. This Halloween candy will, without a doubt, still be around at Halloween 2008. My kids just don’t eat all that much candy. For them, Halloween is more about dressing up and walking around. The candy is just a side benefit.

Then, about an hour later, just as I was getting ready to head to Kroger for a Totino’s pizza, my sister called telling me that my oldest brother had just died. So, after asking if they needed me to come to the hospital and being told (in no uncertain terms) that I was NOT to come to the hospital, I hung up the phone. I told my wife, who said, “What? Oh my god! When? Do you need to leave? Oh my god!” and then went out to get the pizza.

Upon my return, I was hit with more questions:

“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did it happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“When’s the funeral?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s the funeral?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can you eat pizza?”
“I’m hungry.”

::Sigh:: This is harder to write about than you might think. And I’m only writing about it because I’m sure there will be things that happen later on that will cause me to reference this and it just wouldn’t do to have any of you confused.

I was never close with my brother. Well, half-brother. He was 19 years old when I was born and already living out of the house. In fact, I just found out that he was 19 years older than me this past Saturday at his funeral. I had no idea how old he was, no idea when his birthday was, couldn’t match up his kids names with the faces, didn’t know where he lived in the city…none of that. Typically, throughout my life, we would only see each other at Thanksgiving and Christmas. In the two years since my dad died, I’ve seen my brother more than ever…about 10 times. So, I wasn’t that close with him. In fact, all of my (half) brothers and (half) sisters (originally 3 and 2, now down to 2 and 1) have always been more like friends of my parents to me.

I was torn. I felt like I HAD to go to the funeral. I mean, he WAS my brother, after all. And if I didn’t go, my mom would NEVER forgive me. Try to imagine feeling obligated to go to your mother’s friend Madge’s funeral. That’s about what I felt like. Unless you are someone who happens to be really close to your mother’s friend Madge.

The minister who was officiating the funeral was the same guy who did my dad’s. This guy went on and on talking about the Lord and quoting David and Psalms and Ecclesiastes all sorts of stuff. Which I suppose is standard for a funeral but I just see as a complete waste of time and effort. I spent of this time with my head in my hands looking at the floor until I realized that there would be some people who would think I was upset and want to talk to me about it afterwards. So I made sure not to do that anymore.

After the service, I hugged his wife, and my nephews and neice, said goodbye to my mom, 2 brothers and sister and headed home to finish getting the house ready for my oldest daughter’s birthday sleepover.

After that was done, my other two kids, Z and A, and I went over to my mom’s house to spend the night. My house isn’t big enough for all the people that were going to be there and my oldest didn’t want the two younger ones hanging around.

While we were at my mom’s house, she pointed out that I was the only immediate family member who didn’t cry. I pointed out to her that MY immediate family is my wife and kids and her and that I NEVER counted my brothers and sisters as family. She said, “Well, they are.”

I said, “Only legally.” It was a rather tense evening.

But please don’t misconstrue my lack of sadness as belittling the significance of his death. I’m well aware that there are plenty of people who are deeply affected: My mom, her kids, my brother’s wife, their kids, their grandkids. Their lives are irrevocably altered, and their outpouring of emotion at the funeral is a testament to their loss.

It’s just not a loss that I share.

...

2007-10-28T12:19:00.000-04:00

For some reason, I've been really depressed lately. There has been absolutely nothing...NOTHING...that I've found even remotely interesting enough to write about here. Or anywhere for that matter. I feel like I just want to stop...everything...about me.

That Ain't Right

2007-10-18T12:08:00.000-04:00

OK. Wrong. Wrong. This is wrong. Oh how it's wrong. So wrong.

Vaginal Food & Cuisine

Wrong.

Contrary To Rumor, I Am NOT Dead.

2007-10-15T15:17:00.000-04:00

OK, first and foremost, sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've just been ridiculously busy at work and on the go with soccer practices and games on the weekends. It's been unreal.

So, since I had some time...and I was way overdue for an entry...and I was tagged by my friend Doug and douglas.nerad, I figured I slap one up here. So here ya go!

Four Jobs I Have Had (current job excluded):
I’ve only had 2 jobs.

1. The summer that I was 16 (1986), I worked at Woolworth’s stocking shelves, mopping floors, unloading trucks, etc.

2. Then in Nov ’86, I started working at a market research firm and I’ve never left. But…during my 21 years, I’ve had many different jobs there. I’ve been a telephone interviewer, a supervisor of telephone interviewers, a project manager, a call center manager, an analyst, and am now currently in the IT department maintaining our data collection software system.

Four Films I have Watched Again and Again:

1. Star Wars – In 1978 or 79, it was playing at the neighborhood theater. Admission was $1.00. I went almost every single day (and sometimes twice) for the entire summer.

2. Shane – a 1953 Western starring Alan Ladd. Every time it would come on TV, my dad and I would watch it. I own it on both VHS and DVD.

3. Hero at Large – a 1980 John Ritter movie, in which he plays a struggling actor who foils a robbery on his way home from a PR engagement where he was portraying Captain Avenger. Click the title for a more in-depth explanation of the movie. I saw this movie on something called ON-TV (precursor to Cable) when I was a kid and just loved it. I’ve seen it several times since then and just recently got it on DVD.

4. Dirty Dancing – In 1987, this movie came out and I had a new girlfriend (who would later become my wife). We saw this movie at least once each weekend during the time of it’s theatrical release. Not counting Star Wars, this is the movie that I’ve seen the most times in the theater.

Four Places I Have Lived:
Doug listed cities here, but the only city I’ve lived ever lived in is Cincinnati. So I’ll name the 4 places in Cincy that I’ve lived.

1. Childhood home – enough said

2. Apartment #1 – where I lived after moving out. We had to pay for heat, but it wasn’t necessary as the people below us constantly had their heat at 90 during the winter. Had a gun pointed at my head by some Russian guy who lived across the parking lot. There were a group of us sitting outside on the stoop and he thought we were being too loud.

3. Apartment #2 – moved here after being evicted from #1 because we violated the no pets rule. This was a rather uneventful few years, except for the fact that I got married while living here and found out my wife was pregnant while living here.

4. Current House – The apartment was too small if we were going to have a kid. So we got a house and we’ve been there since 1996.

Four Shows I Love to Watch:
While I do watch a lot of TV, there aren’t too many shows that I feel I need to see. At the moment, I can only think of:

1. House – I really enjoy his disdain for people. This is a show that is set to record every Tuesday night.

2. Life – a new show on NBC. I don’t know how long I’ll stick with it because it seems to be another show that has this running mysterious subplot. So far, it’s been wonderfully episodic and I’ve been able to ignore the running subplot, but when the show brings that storyline to the forefront is when I’ll stop watching.

3. Big Bang Theory – new sitcom on CBS. I haven’t laughed this hard at a sitcom in a long time.

Four Places I Have Been on Vacation:

1. French Lick, IN – My wife’s dad has a time share here. As I understand it, French Lick used to be a real swinging scene. But it’s not like that anymore. French Lick makes me sad, because it is clearly and quite obviously a has-been that just hasn’t come to the realization that it’s a has-been. (The link goes to my June 2005 entries. Read all about my vacation June 10-17)

2. Smoky Mountains – this is where we vacation most often. But unfortunately, even though it’s ridiculously crowded and annoyingly touristy, we stay in Gatlinburg because it’s just outside of the “main” entrance. We could stay in Townsend (which is WAY more subdued), but it would be and extra 15 mile drive to get to the stuff we usually do.

3. Hilton Head – quite possibly the best vacation I’ve even been on in my entire life. Woke up, went to the beach, ate lunch at the beach, back to the room for dinner and the rest of the night. The kids had a blast on the beach and in the ocean. I had a blast because there was no real pressing need to DO something. The beach was doing something enough.

4. Orlando – speaking of ridiculously crowded and annoyingly touristy, we’ve been to Orlando and Disneyworld. My wife’s grandfather, aunt and uncle and cousins live there so we stay with them. Her aunt works for Disney, so we get into the parks for free. If I ever had to pay to stay there or go to the parks, I’d NEVER do it. Ever.

Four of my Favorite Foods:

1. Pizza – And just plain cheese. Maybe, if I’m feeling adventurous, I’ll go with a bacon topping.

2. Ravioli – Again, just plain cheese ravioli. In plain marinara sauce.

3. Hamburger – Plain. No cheese, no nothing. Just the bun, the meat, and the bun.

4. Fried Chicken – like from KFC or something like that. Breasts or Legs. Thighs are just way too difficult to deal with.

Four of my Favorite Drinks:

1. Diet Coke – I used to drink Coke all the time, but on a lark, I gave it up for Lent. I’m not Catholic or religious or anything, so Lent means absolutely nothing to me. I just did it for fun. Gave up Coke and switched to Diet. Ended up losing 15 pounds.

2. Water – a distant, DISTANT 2nd place to Diet Coke.

3. Lemonade – I seem to ONLY drink this on a summer day after mowing the lawn.

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now:
Wow, this is actually difficult to answer. I hardly ever think about where I’d RATHER be. Certainly there are times when I’m looking forward to leaving work and going home, or looking forward to going to the bookstore or whatever. I don’t think I’ve EVER said something like, “Man, I wish I were in El Paso right now" or "It'd be good to be in Vale again."

I don’t have 4 places, but right now…at this very moment…I’d rather be at Barnes and Noble.

Time Travel

2007-09-24T23:49:00.000-04:00

I'm a huge fan of time travel stories. Books, both fiction and non-fiction, short stories, movies...the whole concept is fascinating to me.

Sure, we'd all like to be able to go into the future and see what things are going to be like...or travel to the past to see if Oswald really was a lone gunman or to see just how those pyramids were built.

But, I think I've hit upon a great, practical use for time travel: Running an efficient take-out pizza joint.

So check this out. A customer comes up to the counter at 7:00pm and places an order with the cashier. The cashier transmits the customer's order (via special quantum computer) 25 minutes into the past...so that the kitchen receives the order at 6:35pm and makes the pizza, thereby having the pizza ready by 7:00pm (when the customer places the order). From the customer's standpoint, he/she receives the piping hot, made-to-order pizza immediately!

Feel free to bask in the glory of my genius.

Lice!

2007-09-15T23:59:00.000-04:00

Fuck!

How About Some Controversy?

2007-09-07T15:48:00.000-04:00

Topic #1
Recently, there has been a local story about a woman (assistant principal at a school) who went to work, forgot about her two year old daughter and left her in a hot SUV for 8 hours. The little girl died.

Here are the basics of the story;
She got in the car with her daughter and left home. Realizing it was a bit too early to drop off her daughter at the sitter’s, she went to a bakery to get donuts for the meetings she was going to be having at school. She loaded the donuts into the SUV through the tailgate door. She pulled up to the front door of work, unloaded the donuts via the tailgate door, parked the car and went in to the building where she spent the next 8 hours forgetting that she left her daughter in the car.

No charges are going to be filed against the mother.

Some say that it is outrageous that the mother isn’t being charged. Others, including the prosecutor’s office, say that this was a terrible, terrible accident.

I agree with the prosecutor’s office. As terrible as the situation is, according to Ohio law, the mother’s actions did not meet the definition of reckless conduct necessary for prosecution.

Should she have not forgotten her kid was in the car? Of course.

How can you get out of your car and be so oblivious that you don’t notice your kid is in the car seat? I don’t know.

How can you open the tailgate of the car, see a portion of the car seat protruding over the top of the seat and NOT be instantly reminded that your kid is still there? I don’t know.

How can you, at some point during the day, not remember that you didn’t go to the sitter’s? I don’t know.

But I don’t think any of that is criminal. It's tragic, but not criminal.

Topic #2
What is with the abject fear of sexual predators and kids? Not every person convicted of a sex crime is after children, yet we have all sorts of rules to keep them away from them. I’m going to offer a few examples:

There’s a guy who lives two doors down from an old high school friend of mine. He is a registered sexual offender and has lived in that house since 1980. In 2005, a brand new school was built close by. Close enough that he is now in violation of the law saying that he isn’t allowed to live within so many yards of a school or playground or whatever. Because of this, he was told that he had to move.

Two things bother me about this:
1. He was there first. He was in compliance until a school popped up out of nowhere.
2. The sexual offense he was charged with had NOTHING to do with children. He raped a woman in 1996.

So why is it imperative to keep him away from kids?

There is a guy in my mom’s neighborhood who has been convicted of a sexual crime. I don’t have any issues with letting my kids play outside by themselves because this guy’s crime didn’t involve kids. I don’t know the details, but the Hamilton County Sex Offender’s website just says “Sexual Predator.” If it had involved kids, it would have had “involving a minor” in there somewhere.

Why is there a need to protect kids from people like this even though the crimes committed had nothing to do with children?

I don’t know how things are where you live but here, if a sexual offender moves into the neighborhood, residents are notified by the police via mail stating the person’s name and their address. As a parent, I would want to know about this IF the person committed a sex crime against minors. If it was not against a minor, then I don’t need to know.

But you know what MIGHT be helpful? If someone convicted of burglary…or breaking and entering…or grand theft auto. How come I’m not notified of that? I’d want to know if my house has a chance at getting broken into or if my car has a chance of being stolen because someone like that moved into the neighborhood. Or maybe if someone was convicted of assault, I’d want to know about it…just so I can be aware that I might get attacked when I’m out mowing my lawn.

Ridiculous? Of course it is. So why is the sex offender different? And, unless the sexual offense was against minors, why are we more afraid for our kids?

Sorry, No Title For This One

2007-08-28T14:30:00.000-04:00

This entry actually began as a comment that I was going to make on this entry by thethinker, but it started to get WAY too long.

When I was in Jr. high school, I spent some time dwelling on the death of my parents.

I’m sure that EVERY child does this at one time or another. I spent time alternating between what I thought it would be like if my mom died and what it would be like if my dad died. Of course, neither possibility proved to be “better.” They were equally devastating, for different reasons. My mom was the more “hands on” of the two. She was always cooking, cleaning, making sure that when I opened my dresser drawer I would find season appropriate clothing, helping me with models or whatever else I needed help with. To lose that kind of support…to be forced to “grow up” a bit early, to be more responsible for myself, was scary. Particularly when it would be an instantaneous change and not one that happened gradually.

My dad, on the other hand, was more the lecturer. Before I came to resent these lectures as I became more independent, I was honestly interested what he was saying and I would listen intently. Whenever my dad was talking to me, I always came away feeling like I understood the world a little better or understood my choices more clearly. The thought that I wouldn’t have him there to help me understand things was terrifying.

I was also terrified that both of my parents would die before I turned 18. Cuz then where would I go?

Probably my sister's, but I didn't want to do that. See, even though (at the time) I had 3 brothers and 2 sisters, they had all moved out of the house by the time I was 4 years old, so it was as if I was an only child. That’s certainly the kind of life I had…that of an only child. My brothers and sisters have NEVER seemed to be brothers and sisters to me. I’ve always thought of them more as friends of my parents. As far as I was concerned, my family was my mom, my dad, and me. Of course, there are uncles and aunts and nieces and nephews and cousins and all that kind of stuff associated with “family,” but I don’t look at any of those people as “family” either. I’ve always been the kind of person who only…associates?...identifies with?...with few people. So, like I said, my family was mom, dad, and me. No one else really mattered to me in that way. And when one of my sisters died, I wasn’t all that affected. At least, no more than you might be if you heard that a friend of your mother’s, whom you had met a few times, had died.

And it wasn’t just with my family that I…what?...kept at a distance? It was with friends, as well. In high school, I had very few actual friends. Friends, meaning people that I would call to see if they wanted to hang out. If they weren’t available, I found other things to do, like read or watch movies. Sometimes, hanging out with them meant going to a party or something, where there were other people that I knew from school but never hung around or had conversations with. And then there were the girlfriends. My entire life, I’ve only had 3. Girlfriends were important to have. I mean, I didn’t want to go through high school without having one (or a couple) because…well…because I thought it was one of the necessary things. Not that I was just having a girlfriend because “that’s just what your supposed to do.” No, let’s be honest. I’m a guy. And I was horny. And that’s what my first 2 girlfriends were. Girls that I had sex with. Exclusively. Aside from the beginnings of each relationship, not a day went by that we didn’t fuck. There was this one girl though, who I would have liked to have as a girlfriend becasue we got along famously and were really close, but it never worked out to be more than a really good friendship. My 3rd girlfriend was different, though. We actually hung out and talked and played games and went to movies and there were plenty of times where we DIDN’T have sex. And the sex with her was because we wanted to share that part of ourselves with each other.

ANYWAY…the whole point of all of that rambling was to make the point that I only keep a very few number of people close to me. Time and distance plays a big part of that. I can be a fierce, loyal friend, but the more time that passes where that relationship isn’t maintained, or only maintained to a certain limit, the weaker my emotional attachment becomes.

And then when I turned 18, I was glad I didn’t have to worry over whatever hassles would be involved in deciding who would get custody of me if my parents died. I was free of the possibility that I would be sent somewhere to be with people I didn’t know simply because they were the closest relative. But I still didn't feel I was ready to be without one or both of them. I was scared that I'd be some 18 year old kid without any parents, and that just didn't seem right. Even though I was legally an adult, I still needed them.

It wasn't until I got married (to girlfriend #3), had kids, and established a family of my own that I realized the death of a parent wouldn't be the end of the world. I wouldn't be left with an emptiness inside me. I had a new support structure, in the form of my wife and kids, and it was there that my energies were spent and the emotional bond cultivated. Sure there would be the sadness that always comes with the death of a loved one, but it would be much, MUCH easier to weather with my wife and kids right there with me.

And so, when my dad died quite suddenly, unexpectedly, AND without warning from a heart attack in Oct. '05, I didn't break down crying. I didn't ask "Why?" I didn't get angry. I didn’t say “Oh, no no no!” I loved my dad, but my emotional attachment that I had to him when I was younger had been…replaced?...put aside?...weakened? …by the emotional attachment I have with my wife and kids.

And so, I knew I would go on and his death didn’t shake me to the core. In fact, after getting the hysterical call from my mom at 4am (“He’s dead, he’s dead! Your daddy’s dead! Oh sweet Jesus he’s dead and he’s not coming back!”), I calmly got a quick shower hand headed to the hospital. After hanging around there for a few hours, calling my uncle, one of my brothers and my sister, and spending some time with them at the hospital...I went to work. My sister and brother had things under control with my mom so I just...did what I normally do. I went to work, took care of some things that only I could take care of, organized some coverage for the rest of the stuff and took the rest of the week off to help arrange the funeral, help my mom with the lawyer, and whatever else she needed of me. I DID cry when “Taps” was played at the conclusion of the service, but I wasn’t crying for my loss. I was crying because I was happy. Happy that my dad got the funeral I know he wanted.

My father being dead doesn’t make me sad or remorseful. And it doesn’t make me happy. If I had a choice, I would choose for him NOT to be dead. But I don’t have that choice. And because I don’t have that choice, I just accept it as it is.

You Say Eeether, I Say Eyether…

2007-08-19T23:59:00.000-04:00

Everybody has their own preferences…their own way of doing things. Maybe you put your socks on before your underwear. Maybe not. Maybe you like the toilet paper to pull down the front instead of down the back. Maybe you choose Coke over Pepsi. Or Durex over Lifestyles. Whatever your preferences are, they are what make you YOU.

And that’s just great. Our differences in our preferences can be the source of good natured ribbing (“Salt on your watermelon? What kind of freak are you?”) or they can be the cause of heated debate (“There IS a God?” “No there is NOT!”).

We interact with people every day who have different opinions and preferences from us. And things are usually pretty smooth. But every once in a while you run across someone who thinks that his/her preferences or opinions are the RIGHT and everyone else is wrong (or an idiot).

I know someone like this and, the more contact I have with this person, the less I want to be around him. And it’s not because we have a difference of opinion on just about everything…it’s because I’m being tired of being told I’m just flat out wrong in my choices.

For example, I’m “wrong” or I “don’t know what I’m talking about” or I’m “an idiot” because…

I like Family Guy more than the Simpsons.
I like Star Wars more than Lord of the Rings.
I dive an automatic instead of a standard shift.
I stay up really late instead of going to sleep at 9pm.
I bought Clementine oranges in one of those plastic mesh bags instead of in a crate.
I bought ice cream that didn’t come in a container that had a fully removable lid.
I don’t read the last chapter of a book first.
I get most of my books from the library instead of buying them.
I play video games on a PS2 instead of on a computer.
I’m an ass man instead of a tit man.
I liked Batman Begins more than the 1989 Michael Keaton Batman movie.
And my personal favorite…
I’m an idiot because, whether I’m at Burger King or McDonalds, I get both my hamburger and fries there instead of getting the hamburger from BK and then going to get the fries from McD’s. This situation is unique, in that I agree with him about liking McD’s fries more than BK’s, and liking BK’s burgers more than McD’s. But I’m not going to drive 5 miles out of my way to achieve this “ideal meal.”

So, it’s not that I don’t want to be around this guy because we have different opinions about things. It’s that I don’t want to be around this guy because everything is his way or no way and he tries to get people to defend their opinions and choices only to dismiss them with further opinions of his own.

Example:
Him: How can you like Star Wars more than Lord of the Rings?
Me: Because I was 7 when I first saw Star Wars and it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. It was so much a part of my childhood that, even now when I watch it, I feel just like I did when I saw it for the first time. When I watch it, I’m 7 years old again.
Him: But Lord of the Rings is cooler.
Me: In YOUR opinion.
Him: No, it’s cooler and that’s all there is too it.

And then, ohhhhhhhhhhhhh and then, because I’m such an idiot that I can’t see the obvious fact that LotR is “cooler”…then any of my opinions regarding movies are without merit.

Me: Y’know what was good? Little Miss Sunshine.
Him: Yeah? Well, you like Star Wars better than Lord of the Rings so you’ll understand why your recommendation doesn’t have much weight.

Whatever.

There’s just no way to have a conversation with someone like that. It’d be easy to get into an argument, but what’s the point? Nothing anyone says will change the other’s mind.

You Like Me! You REALLY Like Me!

2007-08-14T09:38:00.000-04:00

I don't like to boast or brag and say things like "Look how cool I am!" But every once in a while, when someone says something nice about you and/or the things you do, you can't help yourself. We've all had those moments in life when we've gone to our family or friends and said things similar to:

"Guess what my boss said about me in my performance review?"
"I got a bonus at work today!"
"Carly said the sweetest thing to me today. Listen to this..."
"I won first place!"
"She said that I was the best lay...EVER!"

Well, yesterday I was stopped by to check out Whatever Blows My Skirt. She had gotten her blog reviewed by something called The Jack Factor and was excited about what was said. After reading her review, I went ahead and submitted my blog for review.

I was amazed by what Jack (whoever he is) had to say about my blog. I mean, I knew that my little space here wasn't bad, and I don't think that it's as good as he alleges it to be, but he had some really nice things to say. His criticisms of HToV were right on the money, and are the same critcisms I have about it.

So, this is me saying "Hey! Guess what The Jack Factor said about my blog?" Click here to read the review. And don't stop there. Check out what he's said about some other blogs...some you may know, and some you may not know. And for shiggles (that's shorthand for shits and giggles), submit your own.

Perspective

2007-08-08T15:34:00.000-04:00

OK, I’d like to retract almost everything I said in my last post. It’s not that I don’t want to do anything when I’m on vacation. It’s just that I don’t want to have the vacation activities all planned out with a laundry list of things that MUST be done before vacation ends.

This vacation ended up being a “So what do you want to do today?” kind of thing. It turned into that because of the other family that we were sharing the cabin with.

Going on vacation with another family is always difficult. Your family has habits and attitudes, the other family has habits and attitudes…and sometimes they mesh well. But more often than not, they don’t mesh and there is some sort of adjustment period.

This family we went with…I just knew that our habits and attitudes were not going to make for a smooth problem free vacation. They are fine people, and very fun to be around. But spending a week, living in the same cabin, was going to cause some sort of friction.

Knowing what I know of this family, I told my wife that she needed to understand that we weren’t going to be on vacation WITH them…we were just going to be on vacation in the same area and happened to be sharing the same living space.

Unfortunately, my wife didn’t agree with my assessment and continued to believe that we were on vacation WITH this other family. Not that I fault her for that. If you’re going somewhere with people, there is typically some implied understanding that there will be plenty of shared activities. Certainly there will be times when someone wants to do their own thing, but in general, you want to believe you’re there WITH them.

Guess whose assessment was correct? Yep. Mine.

The other family we were there with is a very...um…fast…family. There are all about getting to the destination as quickly as possible, hanging out for a few seconds, and then leaving as quickly as possible. Our family isn’t like that. We tend to enjoy the journey as much as the destination.

Example: A hike to a waterfall. We started the hike as the same time. My family was three quarters of the way to the falls, and the other family was already on their way back. They saw the hike a simply something you had to do to get to the falls. The falls were the sole purpose of the hike. We, on the other hand, took the time to point out to our kids examples of erosion, fallen trees, a mantis eating some other insect, boulders and how they may have ended up in the woods, and just all sorts of stuff. So, it took us longer to complete the hike.

Now, I will say that I believe that my wife does end up spending more time than I believe is necessary at places, be it the grocery store or a waterfall. But that is who she is. Often, I fail at displaying the kind of patience that is necessary for this and end up displaying my exasperation when she says something like, “Just one more thing…or two.” Of course, the “one more thing or two” ends up translating to 10 more things or maybe another 30-45 minutes…but she is who she is. ANYWAY…

My wife kept feeling pressured to either keep up with this other family or leave someplace before she was ready to, because she didn’t want to keep this other family waiting. So, in a complete reversal, I was the one arguing to stay wherever we were. I knew that she wasn’t “done.” Every time, I kept reminding her that she needs to let go of the idea that we were doing these activities WITH the other family and we just needed to have our vacation.

That was just one example. The whole week was filled with things like that. The end result was that we either didn’t do some of the things we would like to have done, or we didn’t spend as much time as we’d have liked to doing the things we did.

I could say that the other family was rigidly set in their ways and had no regard for our plans or the things we wanted to do. But that would only be true if I believed that we were on vacation WITH them.

I could say that the other family expected us to adjust to THEIR way of doing things, instead of making some adjustments of their own. But that would only be true if I believe that we were on vacation WITH them.

But I also believe that just going on this type of vacation…to the Smoky Mountains…was an adjustment for them. They are a family that needs to be entertained. There needs to be some kind of outside source (such as TV, video games, movie theater, etc) or some kind of equipment (pool table, board game, etc) to engage their interest. I can understand how visiting Clingman's Dome, or touring Cades Cove, or going on a Park Ranger led hike where he talks about all the things around you and how precarious the balance of nature is, could be boring.

This just wasn’t the right kind of vacation for our two families.

Vacation

2007-07-26T16:36:00.000-04:00

I’m going to be going on vacation next week. To Gatlinburg, TN. Leaving on Sunday 7/29 and returning on Saturday 8/4.

Funny thing about vacations: I don’t like them. Well, that’s not necessarily true. I DO like vacations, I just don’t like doing things while ON vacation. See, my idea of a vacation is going somewhere, anywhere, that isn’t in the immediate metropolitan area and not doing anything in particular.

I find that most vacations are just way to damn busy…

Washington, DC: Must see White House, Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, Capitol, Arlington, etc
Florida: Must visit Disney, Epcot, Animal Planet, Slippy Village, Kennedy Space Center, Jamboree Junction, etc
Williamsburg, VA: Must visit Jamestown, Yorktown, Colonial Williamsburg, etc
French Lick, IN: Must see Louisville Zoo, explore the state park, Amish Village, train rides, etc
Gatlinburg, TN: Must do hikes, Cades Cove, apple farm, Clingman’s Dome, Cherokee, NC, etc

Now, I’m not saying that those vacations were bad. Ultimately, with the benefit of hindsight, I’m happy that I’ve been to those places with my wife and kids and that they've enjoyed themselves.

But there’s only been on 1 vacation in my life that I really, and I mean truly, enjoyed. That happened in the spring of ’06 when we went to Hilton Head. And it wasn't BECAUSE it was Hilton Head. It could have been anywhere, as long as it followed this kind of formula: We woke up, ate, went to the beach and read (i.e. did nothing), came back to the room, napped, ate, maybe went to the pool, came back to the room and went to sleep. There were no plans. Sure we ended up doing stuff, like going to the Salty Dog or to the Nature Preserve that they have there…but those were spontaneous things. They weren’t planned in advance and if it turned out that we didn’t go…well, then that was OK. It wasn’t part of an itinerary.

And that’s what I consider to be the perfect vacation; something where you don’t feel as though you HAVE to do…anything. I would be perfectly content to stay at a hotel in (insert a city/country name) and never leave the hotel room. Well, maybe “never leave the hotel room” is a bit of an exaggeration. Of course I’d leave the room. I just wouldn’t want to DO anything.

How about some examples? Didja ever see the movie National Lampoon’s Vacation? At one point in that movie, the family was at the Grand Canyon. Something was going on and Clark was in a rush to leave and his wife said, “Don’t you want to see the Grand Canyon?” He puts his arm around her, looks at the canyon for a few seconds, and then says, “Let’s go.” THAT is me.

If I went to Paris, I’d be content to just see the Eiffel Tower from the hotel balcony. I don't want to see the Louvre, enjoy the cuisine, or experience the culture. If I went to London, I’d be fine just passing by Big Ben. I don't want to ride the undergound, tour any castles, or see the changing of the guard. Even though I haven’t been to those places, I know I would behave that way because it’s what I did in Niagara Falls when I was 10. I stood at the railing, looked at the falls for a minute, and then asked my parents when we were going back to the hotel. I know I’d behave that way because it’s what I do now. In Hilton Head:
Wife: “Hey look! A pod of dolphins!”
Me: (glancing up) “Yep.” (goes back to reading book)

I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t enjoy going on a cruise ship. The price of a cruise is awfully high to just do nothing. And because it’s so much money, I would feel as though I HAVE to do things on the ship, just to get my money’s worth. And that doesn’t make sense…to do a bunch of stuff you don’t want to do so you feel as though the price you paid was worth it.

I have friends who've gone all over: Fiji, Cancun, Hawaii, Bora Bora, Key West, Argentina, Las Vegas, Ireland, Amsterdam, Cabo San Lucas. Whenever they come back there are always picutures and stories of things that they did...scuba diving, wave running, museums, mountain climbing, motorcycle tours, standing next to a lava flow etc. It's clear that they had themselves a good time. And I'm happy for them. But, for me, I see all that type of stuff as things that got in the way of the vacation.

So, I’m going to Gatlinburg, TN. It’ll be good because I’ll be off work, out of contact, and someplace that has different scenery. But I’m not looking forward to all the shit we’re going to do.

Except for the chair lift thing up the side of the mountain! Those chair lift things rock!

Oh Oh It's Magic

2007-07-17T18:01:00.001-04:00

Have you ever seen anyone overreact to the performance of a magician? I’m not talking about a typical response of “Wow! That was a really good trick!” or even a “Ok, THAT was cool!” I’m talking about the kind of reaction where someone maybe screams or runs away or starts crying.

I’ve always loved watching magicians. I much prefer the close-up kind of magic and sleight of hand stuff as opposed to the big spectacle of disappearing tigers or national monuments. My fascination with magicians was big enough at one point for my mom to take me to a magic store so that I could get the tricks and perform them myself. That was utter disaster. I quickly found out that being able to do the trick immeasurably paled to experiencing the trick. I didn’t want to KNOW how to do it. I wanted to watch it and be amazed, even though I know it’s not really “magic.”

So it amazes me when I see someone freak out over some magician making a coin disappear or “magically” know which card you picked out of a deck. A while back, there was this guy in the racquetball league at the YMCA. We’ll call him Walt. Seemed like a good guy. Funny, bright, easy to talk with. Well, one evening while hanging around in the hall waiting for our court times, one of the other league guys (Ed) brought up the fact that he knew a wizard. A wizard who he could call on the phone and who would be able to tell what someone what card they were thinking of. Of course, everyone demanded proof. So Ed asks Walt to say the name of a card. Walt picked one, let’s say the 6 of hearts. Ed borrowed a cell phone, put on the loudspeaker so we all could hear and called The Wizard. He made some small talk, saying where he was and asking if the Wizard had heard from some sort of mutual friend yada yada yada. Then he went ahead and told The Wizard that he had a guy there who was thinking of a card and no one believed that The Wizard could guess it. The Wizard said, “Well, I’ll prove it. 6 of hearts.”

That was pretty fucking awesome. Everyone registered the amount of shock and surprise you would expect them to show at how such a spontaneous and unplanned event played out. It was fun and of course there were the questions. “How’d you do that?” “Oh come on, really! What’s the trick?” and so forth. But Walt was stunned.

Now, it just so happened that Walt was the guy I was scheduled to play that night. Our time came and we went into the court. As soon as the door closed, Walt said, “How did he do that?” I was smiling (cuz it was a good trick) and told him I didn’t know. Well, because I was smiling, Walt didn’t believe me. He started getting angry. “Don’t tell me that! You know! Tell me, please!” I assured him that I didn’t know and that there was certainly some trick to it. That’s when Walt said, “Things like that are unnatural. Black forces like that can cause big problems.” He was visibly shaken.

So at this point I was thinking, “Cray-zee.” But I told him that there was obviously some kind of code in the small talk or something that Ed said to tip off “The Wizard.” Walt wanted to know what that code was, because he sure didn’t hear any code. So I explained, “That’s the whole point of HAVING a code. What fun would it be if the code was blatantly obvious?” Walt didn’t want to hear any of it.

It ended up with Walt quitting halfway through the fist of what was supposed to be 3 games. He said that he was dropping out of the league and would not rejoin if Ed was going to be in it. He didn’t want to risk being around that kind of stuff. And he never came back.

Now that’s something I just don’t get. I mean, really. In the 21st century, how can anyone honestly believe that mystical, dark forces were invoked and psychic abilities were called into play just to tell someone which card they were thinking of?

Hysteria

2007-07-03T16:16:00.000-04:00

OK. So, on Friday I took a small break from work and went to the Family Dollar store that’s close by and got myself a Coke and a box of Bite Size Frosted Mini-Wheats. When I got up to the line, I saw that only one register was open and it was backed up. Apparently, Family Dollar was THE place to be on Friday afternoon. Anyway, about 6 people back from the register, there was a display case of some sort, which would obviously cause the line to have to bend in one direction (or the other) and any new member of the line would then have to approach it from the side.

Well, there was a little girl…I’ll say about 6 or so…standing with a cart full of things. She may have been in line (because she was coming from the side) or she may not have been (because the space between her and the person who was DEFINITELY in line seemed to be right on the cusp of that imaginary demarcation line that would make the answer obvious). I didn’t see a parent with her so I figured I’d just go ahead and ask this little girl if she was in line. After all, I wouldn’t want to cut in front of her if she was.

So I asked her, “Are you standing in line?”

She looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh?”

So I asked again. “Are you in this line or are you just standing here waiting for your mom or dad?”

She just stared at me.

I said, “This is what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to stand here (taking the place behind the last, obvious person in line) and if it turns out you ARE in line, I’ll let you and you go in front of me.”

And that’s when this happened:

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Everybody stopped what they were doing to see what was going on.

This woman came running up and put herself between me and the little girl. “WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?”

“I’m sorry, was this your place in line?”

“DON’T GIVE THAT BULLSHIT! WHAT WERE YOU SAYING TO MY DAUGHTER?”

“I was just trying—“

“TRYING TO WHAT? HUH? WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO?”

“—figure out if she was in line or not.”

“YEAH ,RIGHT!” She took the girl’s hand and started pushing the cart away and down one of the aisles. “OUGHTA CALL THE DAMN COPS ON YOUR ASS, TRYING TO WHATEVER WITH MY LITTLE GIRL!”

And then in a gesture that I’m constantly amazed at, the people in line offered to let me go in front of all of them since I only had 2 things. The person who was next to me in line offered his support by saying that he knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong and that the woman was overreacting. I gave the cashier (who sees me often, as Coke and Mini-Wheats are my standard purchases a couple of times a week) my business card with instructions to give it to the police in case the woman decided to “call the damn cops.” I think I’m in the clear, since I haven’t heard anything.

BUT, it does bring up an odd issue: pedohfealeea (purposefully misspelled so as not to attract undesired traffic) and the hysteria surrounding it.

I’m going to ask you to go here and read the article.

Done? Good. I’m going to come right out and say that I would probably have done what Mr. Peachey did. In fact, I’m SURE that I’d have done what Mr. Peachey did, because I have. Twice in the last year. Both times had to do with witnessing a kid have a bike wreck. The first time, my wife was in the van with me. We saw a girl fall off her bike. It looked spectacular, but the girl sat up and was holding her knee. I drove on by, and only stopped at the behest of my wife, who made be back up so she could see if she was OK. And she was, just had a scrape on her knee. The second time was pretty much identical. A kid fell off his bike. Again, it was pretty spectacular looking. But I drove on by.

The first instance, the thought of “ped hysteria” did go through my mind, but only because of an incident that happened in 2005. And that issue happened with people that I knew. I had dropped off my older daughter, S, at a friend’s house for a birthday party. My younger daughter, A, was in the back of the van and on the way home saw one of her classmates playing in her yard. I pulled over (on the wrong side of the street), my daughter opened the side door to the van and called to her friend. Her friend called back, jumped off the swing, and started coming to the van. That’s when Mom dashed out of the house and restrained her daughter. Only when I said, “Hey there, C. A just wanted to stop and say ‘hi.’” did Mom relax.

The second instance of a kid falling off the bike, I don’t recall ever consciously rationalizing why I wasn’t going to stop. I just didn’t.

Should I have stopped? Probably. It would have been the decent thing to do. But I didn’t. Other personal instances, which you can read about HERE, and news stories like THIS are what make it very easy for me to understand WHY Mr Peachey did what he did.

And as I’ve stated over at Jenny’s Flawed and Disorderly May 1st post (comment 28 of 31), I’m not proud that I would act in a similar fashion.

Meme

2007-07-01T23:55:00.000-04:00

I done been tagged by Starrlight from Here Comes a Storm in the Form of a Girl. Apparently, as a warm up, I'm supposed to utilize Wikipedia to gather some information about my birthday. After that, and probably more along the lines of why you visit this place, there are questions that I have to answer. So, buckle up kids! Here we go!

April 4

3 Events
In 1818, the United States Congress adopted the flag of the United Statess with 13 red and white stripes and one star for each state (then 20).
In 1964, the Beatless occupied all top five positions on the Billboard singles chart in the United States
In 1973, the World Trade Centerr in New Yorkk was officially dedicated.

2 Births
Hugo Weaving (of Matrix and Lord of the Rings) was born in 1960
And in 1965, Robert Downy Jr arrived

1 Holiday
April 4 is Children's Day in Taiwan and Hong Kong

Fascinating stuff, no? I didn't think so either. Thankfully, there is something more substantial below.

1.What were you doing 10 years ago?
10 years ago, I was a new parent. My daughter was 8 months old. I was working 2nd shift…which in reality turned out to be a shift that ran from about 2pm until 3am. My mom was coming to the house to take care of the baby, since my wife was working regular hours and I was sleeping until noon. In August of ’97, I would come inches from being decapitated but ended up being lucky enough to walk away with a severely broken wrist that resulted in 2 surgeries, 2 months off work, 65% mobility, and pain that is still with me today.

2.What were you doing 1 year ago?
About this time a year ago, the family and I were on vacation in Indianapolis visiting the zoo and the Children’s Museum. I was 7 months into a new position at work (IT Department). If you’d like to know more about me in July of 2006, you can click here: http://rickrack.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html

3. Five snacks you enjoy:
Bite-size Frosted Mini Wheats (dry, no milk)
Pretzels
Tostito’s
Rice Cakes with peanut butter
Oyster Crackers

4. Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
Piano Man – Billy Joel
Photograph – Def Leppard
Cum on Feel the Noize – Quiet Riot
Beautiful Disaster – Roger Clyne & The Peace makers
Rhinestone Cowboy – Glenn Campbell

5. Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
Pay off our Odyssey
Replace my Saturn
Buy a larger house
Set up college funds for each of my 3 kids
Invest in a bunch of stuff

6. Five bad habits:
I procrastinate
I fall asleep on the couch WAY more often than I sleep in my bed
I’ll finish this section later

7. Five things you like doing:
Reading
Hanging out at Barnes and Noble
Staying up late
Playing with my kids
Imagining the word “motherfucker” at the end of commercials, as if it were an actual part of the commercial (e.g. IcyHot. Make pain and scent a vanishing act, motherfucker).

8. Five things you would never wear again:
Parachute pants
Fanny Pack
Raincoat
Corduroy pants (part of the uniform from Catholic High School)
Knee high socks with horizontal stripes at the top

9. Five favorite toys:
Ever?
1970’s Star Wars figures
Starbird
Master’s of the Universe figures (early 80’s)
Bulletman
Fisher Price Adventure People Daredevil Sports Van

And that brings this post to a close. Thanks for coming and I hoped you enjoyed your stay.

Do You Have Any ID?

2007-06-26T17:05:00.000-04:00

According to Mingle² - Online Dating

And all because of 5 occurrences of the word "sex," 3 "hell"s, 2 "fuck"s, and 1 "orgasm."

And here I thought I'd been holding back.

Up And Down The Dial

2007-06-19T18:00:00.000-04:00

I finally got the WKRP in Cincinnati complete first season DVD. I had asked for it as an anniversary present on May 13, but the stores were sold out of them. I found that to be kind of weird, because I didn’t think there what THAT much of a furor surrounding this show’s release on DVD. My wife got a rain check from Target so that whenever the next shipment came it, we would still be able to purchase it at the “1st week released” discounted price. FINALLY, this past Saturday we found it at Target. It turns out that every Target in the Greater Cincinnati Area had only received 4 copies of it and, yes, they were just now getting the new shipment in.

Sunday night, after everyone went to bed, I watched Disc One. Last night, I got through half of Disc Two. I’ll finish that tonight and then do Disc Three tomorrow night. Yeah, I have no life.

Anyway, so why am I writing a post about WKRP? Well, dear reader, I’ll tell you. Even though I was a little kid when this show was on the air, it made a huge impact on me. I knew that, when I grew up, I wanted to work in a place like that. And I do. I found this job in 1986 when I was 16. It was a small company then, only 10 total employees. 21 years later, with a whopping total of about 550 employees, I’m still there. It’s not the same as it used to be, but it’s not a stuffy place which requires professional dress and has restrictive rules about personal appearance. It’s a place that has characters, not drones.

As a result of the show’s impact on me, WKRP in Cincinnati is the ONLY TV show I will ever own on DVD. It’s probably just me, but I don’t see the appeal in owning TV shows on DVD. Owning movies? Yes, because they are a bit longer and you can get settled in with a bowl of popcorn and some drinks and enjoy the show. But TV shows? I personally don’t get it. Especially big, long serials like Lost, Heroes, or 24. When does an owner of those types of shows ever say, “Hey, let’s spend the next couple of weeks watching the first season of 24 from beginning to end?” DVD shows like that, it would seem to me, are destined to just take up space in peoples’ houses unwatched, except for maybe during the week that it was purchased.

So how do I know that I won’t fall victim to that same type of behavior? I don’t. That may very well happen. But I sincerely hope that I doesn’t. All I can say is that WKRP wasn’t an impulse buy on my part. It’s not a favorite show that is currently on the air in its 4th season but the 1st and second seasons have just been released on DVD and I just have to get it because it’s a really good show (a’la Grey’s Anatomy, House, Prison Break, etc). WKRP is a show that hasn’t been in wide syndication (such as Star Trek, Seinfeld, or Andy Griffith), there is a certain amount of nostalgia (it’s been a long time since it’s been on the air and it a hoot to see how the city where I grew up and have lived in all my life used to look and how it’s changed), and in my humble, vacuous opinion, it’s freakin’ hilarious (“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly”).

Groundhog Day

2007-06-11T16:38:00.001-04:00

Sorry I haven’t had a post lately. I just haven’t had much to write about. So, as I was driving to work today, I was going over things I could post about. And I had nothing. So I started wondering why I had nothing. And then it occurred to me.

During the summer, there just isn’t anything going on in my life. There are no school issues that bring to mind something I did as a kid, there aren’t any get-togethers with other people where I could experience an idea, controversial topic, or overhear a conversation and it’s just boring. During the summer, I only have 2 days…Weekday and Weekend. Weekday is wake up, go to work, work, go home, hang around, go to sleep, rinse, lather, repeat. Weekend is wake up, loaf around, run errands to the grocery store, eat dinner, loaf around, go to sleep, and start over again. Since buying the new car last weekend, I’ve done nothing other than what was outlined in those two previous sentences. I’m on auto-pilot, and there’s just nothing remotely note-worthy happening.

Now watch. Tomorrow, a web-footed midget wearing a space helmet and holding a tuning fork will infect me with pink eye.

A New Car

2007-06-04T15:44:00.001-04:00

We bought a new car yesterday. As much as I hate the idea of having a monthly car payment, this is something we really needed to do. The van we had just had way too many issues with it, the 2 biggest being that the air conditioner wasn't working and only one of the windows would roll down. We have had issues with that van since Day 1 (back in 1999), and, in a strange turn of events, it just made more financial sense to get a new one.

8 Random Things About Me

2007-05-29T03:07:00.000-04:00

Beej over at A Life of Adventure tagged me to do this meme. And so here ya go.

Number 1
I am a picky eater. To the best of my knowledge, I always have been. While I now eat more things than I did when I was little, I still have a very bland, plain diet. Hamburgers are plain, just the bun, meat, and bun. No cheese, onions, pickles, ketchup, mustard…nothing. Plain fried chicken, like you might get from KFC. Cheese (not meat) ravioli, in plain ‘ol traditional Ragu sauce. Plain cheese pizza. Steak. French fries. Some of my more “adventurous” meals include Chinese food…but only then it’s just the chicken with sweet and sour sauce…and occasionally some fried rice. Also, vegetable soup. I describe that as “adventurous” because it’s all mixed together. Typically, I eat my food in groups. For example, at Thanksgiving dinner I will eat a slice of turkey before moving on to a bowl of corn and then ending with a roll. I won’t take a bite of this, then of that, then back to this and then some of the other.

Number 2
I’m somewhat obsessive compulsive. This is most noticeable when it comes to my DVD collection. They must be alphabetized. Also, if I purchase something that is part of a series, I feel like I have to own the whole series. For example, I could not be content to own a couple of James Bond books. I would have to own the entire series. It bothers the shit out of me that I only own the first 2 Rocky movies. That’s a conscious choice, because the other’s weren’t that good, but I feel like I should get all the others. In fact, when I see them at Wal-Mart or someplace, I spend a moment debating if I should purchase them. I don’t, because logic wins out. But the feeling is there.

Number 3
I’m not circumcised. My mom tells me that it’s because the Dr. didn’t believe in cutting up little babies like that, but I know that’s not true. However, that’s her story and she’s stuck to it my entire life. My mom was deathly afraid that the skin would grow closed. As a preventative measure, she’d wake me up in the middle of every single night and have me pull the skin back, just to be safe. In grade school, I was relentlessly teased about it. The story that went around was that I had somehow gotten the tip cut off.

Number 4
I wet the bed until I was 12 years old and started seventh grade. I believe the underlying cause had to do with Number 3. You see, my public elementary school only went up to sixth grade. After that, my parents put me in a private school, while all of my classmates continued in public education. I didn’t know anyone in the new school, and the teasing about being uncircumcised was no longer there. I didn’t come to that conclusion, though, until the summer between freshman and sophomore year in high-school. The first real, live girl who had an occasion to see my penis was taken aback and refused to touch it. I wet the bed for a month afterward. However, I stopped after doing some research at my local library, where I found out that there were plenty of guys in the world who were uncircumcised and there was nothing for me to feel ashamed or insecure about.

Number 5
I’ve worked for the same company since November of 1986. It started as a part-time job after school and evolved into a career.

Number 6
I view pornography on a fairly regular basis.

Number 7
I believe in ghosts. That doesn’t mean that I believe in an afterlife (i.e. Heaven or Hell), but I do believe in ghosts. The house that I grew up in was haunted. Not like, Amityville Horror or Poltergeist haunted, but there was a ghost of an old woman there. All of my brothers and sisters have a story or two about Mrs. Greatorex (the previous owner of the house). My mom and dad had several stories of their encounters. I have two stories myself. When I was 12, my dad was fixing up the third floor of the house for me to move up there. New carpet, wallpaper, some shelving units, etc. I was in my current room on the second floor, when I heard something upstairs fall. I went up to see what it was, in case it was a shelf that fell off the wall or a bucket of the wallpaper glue that may have tipped over. When I got to the top of the steps, there was a distinctly humanoid shape in the corner. I screamed and ran downstairs and told my mom. “Oh, that’s probably Mrs. Greatorex,” she said. That’s when I learned about the whole thing. The second time was about 4 years later. I had gotten off work at 9pm and was going to meet some friends, but I had to stop at home and change. After changing and on my way back downstairs, there on the stair landing was a old woman, completely solid-looking head but gradually fading to nothing as you moved down to her feet. So I did what anyone would do in that situation. I screamed. Then I bounded down the stairs toward the front door. My right arm passed through her. It was very cold and the hairs on my arm stood straight up for the next half-hour or so. After that, I had no further encounters. I slept on the living room couch for a month.

Number 8
I mentioned brothers and sisters in number 7. Technically, they are my half-brothers and half-sisters. My mom was married and had all of them. Her husband died. She met my dad, married him and had me. I’ve never really thought of them as brothers and sisters, because they had all moved out of the house by the time I was 4 or 5 years old. To me, they’re more like friends of my parents.

And there you have it. Eight random things about me.

Athlete? Or Athletic Supporter?

2007-05-19T09:17:00.001-04:00

OK, so ultimately my blog template didn’t change much. Just a new header. That’s OK, though, because I agreed with the people who commented on my blog saying it was difficult to read. I also didn’t like the fact that there seemed to be a lot of wasted space when the browser window was maximized. But that’s enough about the template and design. Let’s get on with the show.

Recently Ken Griffey Jr. of the Cincinnati Reds gave a jock strap to a “fan” who had been heckling him. Kind of a good natured insult. Well, the other night on a local radio station’s sports call-in show, the host invited listeners to call in and share their stories about getting their first jock strap. Some stories were funny, such as the one where the guy’s mom took him to get one but it ended up being too big and when they went back to the store to exchange it for a SMALLER one the transaction was done by a 16 year old girl who ended up being a fellow student at the kid’s high school. Aye carumba! Other stories were more serious, such as the guy who claimed he played baseball better than he ever had before, simply because he felt more like a man. However, every caller looked back on their first jock as one of the rights of passage into manhood.

I was dumbfounded. A right of passage? Really? I don’t understand that. I certainly don’t view my first jock strap as a right of passage. It was just the first thing out of the gym teacher’s mouth freshman year in high-school. “You will all need jock straps!” So, we went out and got one. And yes, I went with my mom. Anyway…I wore it for the first two-weeks of gym classes before saying, “This is stupid.” I stopped wearing it and haven’t ever worn one again.

The Only Constant Is Change

2007-05-12T03:53:00.000-04:00

I got bored Friday night and tweaked my template.

Since you good folk are the one's who read my blog, I'd really like to hear your thoughts about the new design. I'd like to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Have at it.

***UPDATE 5/16/2007***
I hated the black background. I found it to be too dark. Also, while I thought the header image was bitchin', it didn't match the tone of the site. So, I've made more changes. I, personally, like this much better. However, I don't think I'm done yet.

Thank you for being patient.

2007-05-10T10:10:00.000-04:00

HEALTH PSA: Oral Sex Can Cause Throat Cancer.

There's just nothing else to say.

Except, "Well, damn!"

2007-05-03T14:33:00.000-04:00

Apparently someone...maybe a congressman, maybe an aide, maybe a secretary, maybe just an IT person...but SOMEONE from the U.S. House of Representatives visited my blog today. I thought that was kind of spiffy. But it wasn't until I saw HOW he/she found my blog that I decided to dedicate a post to it. So, here ya go. Tax dollars at work.

Click the image to enlarge.

2007-04-30T17:32:00.000-04:00

“There are just some things that girls shouldn’t do with boys.” That’s a quote from one of the assistant coaches on my son’s soccer team. A couple of weeks ago, we had arrived at the practice site a little bit early, and were waiting for the team currently using the site to finish up. I was sitting on my car reading when he noticed that the boy’s team currently on the field had two women coaches.

“That team has women coaches.”

I looked over the top of my book to see. “Yep.” I went back to reading.

“It shouldn’t be like that.”

“What do you mean?” I said, face still buried in the book.

“Women shouldn’t be coaching boys.”

“No?”

“Hell, no.”

I closed my book and paused for a second. No way was I going to let an opportunity like this pass by. “I don’t see how it’s any different than men coaching a girl’s team.”

He turned and looked at me like I had 3 heads. “You don’t???”

“Not at all. Soccer is soccer, whether boys play or girls play. As long as the coaches know what they’re doing, who cares whether they are men or women?”

“Well I’ll tell you this. I wouldn’t want my son to be coached by a woman. There are just some things that girls shouldn’t do with boys.”

And, for my own clarification I asked, “But it’s OK for a guy to coach a girl’s team?”

“Absolutely.”

“Whatever.” I went back to reading my book.

********WARNING********

***Mature Themes Follow***

And while we’re on the subject, here’s something else that someone thinks girls shouldn’t do with boys…freakdancing. For those of us that were a part of the 80’s culture, that would be dirty dancing. Google ‘freakdancing ban’ and you will get a ton of hits to articles from all over discussing banning this type of dance at school functions.

I, myself, am on the fence with this. On the one hand, I can totally buy into the idea that it is just a dance and it’s how kids have been taught through viewing music videos somewhere. When the movie Dirty Dancing came out in 1987, a bunch of us jumped on the band wagon and emulated what we saw on the screen. And as I recall, all us guys thought that it would be truly mortifying for the girl to fell our hard-on while doing it. I was simply a dance like any other. It was fun.

On the other hand, I can totally buy into the idea that it is flat out inappropriate to do at a school sanctioned event. It does simulate sex, and I, myself, had engaged in this type of dancing several times for purpose of achieving ejaculation through dry humping (which, in hindsight, was a mistake because the cleanup could be…uncomfortable if unable to start it immediately). However, I only did this with girlfriends and not with just casual dates.

Of course, 1987 is NOT 2007. In 1987, 2 Live Crew was a scandal! Thank them for the warning labels that are on almost every CD. In 1987, there weren’t any news reports of teen sex orgies. In 1987, we didn’t have the Interweb to throw pornography at us whenever we wanted (or didn’t want). In 1987, we didn’t have virginity pledges. In 1987, we didn’t have girls who would agree to anal sex as a way of maintaining their virginity (which doesn’t make sense to me).

So I don’t know where I sit. I’d like to think that I’m on the students’ side and say, “Freakin’ is just a dance like The Twist so get over it.” But I’m sure I would totally change my tune if I saw my daughter dancing like that.

Hypocritical?

2007-04-18T17:23:00.000-04:00

Many Parents Admit They Bribe Their Kids. No way! I totally disagree.

I, of course, am kidding about disagreeing. I see it all the time with parents at school. And I myself have been guilty of doing it in the past. However, I am well aware that I’m not necessarily doing the right thing. Like some in the linked article stated, sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. I know that, at least when my kids were younger, there were things that happened that required me to focus on just one of the kids…things like diaper changes or taking care of a nosebleed or, on one occasion, searching for a lost child in a mall. Invariably, one (or both) of the remaining two children would simply not understand that my attention would need to be elsewhere at the moment and would still insist on running around, wanting me to read to them, or wanting to run off. I know I’ve said something like, “For the love of everything that is holy in this world, I NEED you to just…..stand here and wait/be quiet/stop hitting….while I take care of this. I will get you a cookie when I’m done but you MUST. Let. Me. Do this!” And I think every parent has been in this situation before. And I don’t necessarily think that kind of bribe is bad, because it’s done very rarely and in emergency situations.

And, sure, I’ve bribed my kids for something that probably didn’t deserve a reward. I’m not saying I’m perfect. But I try to identify those times and I say, “Yeah, that was a mistake. I’ll try not to do that again.”

But kids, especially younger kids don’t really grasp the concept of “Just doing the thing is reward enough.” They need rewards for some things. It becomes a problem when the parents ALWAYS and CONTINUALLY use rewards instead of trying to teach them that the reward is in the doing.

What I try to do is reward my kids with something after extended displays of acceptable behaviors. “You come straight home and do you homework first thing for a whole week and we’ll take you to the bookstore.” Or “You go clean your room, and if it stays clean for 3 straight days, you can have 60 minutes of video game time.” The homework needs to be done first thing. Just having the homework done by bedtime isn’t enough.

Other times, we’ll use THEIR desired behavior as a reward for OUR desired behavior. For example, I play softball on Tuesday nights and there is a playground close to the ball field. My son wants to play there while I’m playing softball. So I’ll tell him, “Y’know, if I can’t trust you to get dressed in the morning without me having to constantly check to make sure you’re doing it, how can I let you play over there without me supervising? Show me that I can trust you to do what you’re supposed to do in the mornings, and I’ll trust you to play at the playground by yourself.”

The bad effects of flat our bribery have been displayed very clearly to me in the last couple of week. Nothing earth shattering, but it’s made me think about it more.

This is my first year as a soccer coach. I’m helping coach the 2nd grade boys soccer team. One of the issues we’ve had so far this year is that we can’t seem to get the boys to pass the ball. This has been a big complaint of mine in previous years of soccer and basketball, but the reason they aren’t passing has become crystal clear now. The parents are offering rewards to their kids if they score a goal. I’ve heard “Three goals from you this season and you get a pair of heelys.” or “$5.00 for every goal you make” or even “You’ll get an iPod Nano for 5 goals.” No wonder these kids won’t pass the ball. The other team usually ends up stealing the ball away and our team rarely even makes it down to the opposing goal. Also, what happens is the kid doesn’t want to play defense (like fullback or goalie) because that doesn’t give them the chance to score. They won’t play their best, hoping the coach will say “Well, defensively you’re weak so let’s try front line.” Or they get angry when they have to sit out a quarter or two in order to give other team members a chance to play. They aren’t learning the concept of “TEAM” because they are solely focused on getting their own promised reward. How do you fight that?

Taking them out of the game for refusing to pass makes them all pouty and angry. Which is all fine and good, but the lesson isn’t learned. They just see it as a lost opportunity to score a goal. It doesn’t get through because, the next game, they are still not passing. As an object lesson to the other players, the lesson is still lost because all it means to them is “If he isn’t playing then I’m going to be and I’ll have a chance to make a goal.” The whole idea of playing-the-game is obscured by the gotta-get-the-goal mindset.

Makes me upset.

2007-04-16T17:21:00.000-04:00

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Last week was spring break and I did not get an opportunity to sit down at my computer for any length of time. I didn’t go anywhere exciting or anything, just took the week off work so my wife wouldn’t be stuck with 3 kids all by herself for the week.

But enough about that. Let’s get to the point(s) of this entry.

POINT 1
I’m a bad husband. And I don’t me that in a humorous, self-deprecating kind of way. It’s a straight up fact. I’m not a very good husband. I have a horrible tendency to tune out my wife and only half listen to what she says. I avoid things she needs me to do simply because I don’t want to deal with the hassle (i.e. asking my mom for money, talking with my mom about moving in with us, finding a dentist for the kids, yada yada). I don’t support her (around other people) when I think she’s wrong about something. And I’m sure there are other things. The reason I bring this up is because of her birthday this year. We really didn’t do anything for it. I got her a card. We had also been talking of getting her a computer, but we weren’t going to do that until several days after her birthday. I had just assumed that THAT was going to be her birthday present. It never even occurred to me to at least take the kids out and get some small things so they each had something to give her, so her day came and went with no presents. And this is not the first year that’s happened. In fact, I’d venture to say there have been more years where her birthday has been overlooked than there have been when we celebrated. And it’s totally my fault. I don’t put forth the effort to go out and get her something. I use the excuse that I was busy at work and didn’t have time that week before to get her something. But really, how much effort does that take? A lunch break or two where I go to a store for her instead of grabbing a Whopper from BK? There’s really no excuse, but I seem to do it a lot anyway. And I don’t know why.

POINT 2
I read Dear John by Nicholas Sparks last week. Bawled my fucking eyes out. And even though it left me feeling depressed and empty for a few days, I thought it was a pretty damn good book BECAUSE it left me feeling depressed and empty for a few days. Any book that can bring out an emotional reaction from me gets my seal of approval.

Now, I COULD bore you about our trip to the zoo, but it wasn’t eventful at all. I COULD tell you about shopping for the computer that we got for my wife, but there’s really nothing there to expound upon. I could even tell you about the boil I have right at the base of my….well…y’know. But that would be way too much information for you. So we’ll just stay with the two points I’ve already discussed.

2007-04-04T12:48:00.001-04:00

Like you, I’ve been different ages at different times in my life. Today, another one is added.

37.

Let’s see what happens this year.

2007-04-02T11:38:00.000-04:00

Well, lookee there. I done got reviewed at Ask And You Shall Receive. Ask And You Shall Receive is a no-holds-barred blog review site. You have to ask them to review your blog and it takes a while them to get around to it, which is understandable considering how many people probably request a review. Check out what they had to say about yours truly, check out other blogs they reviewed, and/or leave them a request to review yours.

2007-04-01T23:59:00.000-04:00

I must be a suspicious looking character. Every year, for the last 6 years, I have been stopped at least once (but no more than twice) by an employee of the school wanting to know who I was, what my business at the school was, if I was a parent of a child at the school, yada yada yada.

The first time this occurred was way back at the end of 2001. And I didn’t mind. It was our first year to the school, and I felt good that there was concern for the safety of the children.

The second time was at the beginning of 2007. Different person stopped me, but what bothered me the most about it was that she had followed me through the school and then waited in the hallway while I was talking about something with a teacher. She stopped me when I came out of the room and began her interrogation. I copped a little attitude because, c’mon…I was just in there speaking with a teacher for several minutes.

In succeeding years, I’ve displayed more attitude and indignation when asked because, Jesus, I am at the school 4 times a week. One particularly bad incident was when I was standing with my daughter looking at a map of the neighborhood on one of the walls. There was a Walk To School program and everyone who typically walked to school chose a color to highlight their route. Now, we don’t walk to school. We live too far away. But when I was a kid in the neighborhood, I would walk to school and I was showing my daughter the route that I would walk. Well…apparently someone interpreted this as me trying to get a little girl to show me where on the map she lived. The only information I gave this person was that yes, I was a parent of a child in the school and she just so happened to be the little girl standing right next to me.

Last fall, I had taken my oldest to school earlier than normal because she had some elective type class. My wife called me and asked me to wait there (instead of going to work right away) in order for me to help her carry some stuff from the van up to the second floor. So, I waited outside, leaning up against the school and playing games on my cell phone while I waited. Eventually, she called to let me know she had arrived but was parked on the other side of the school grounds. I put my phone away and headed across the grounds to meet her, passing first through the area of the playground where the intermediate grade kids were and then through the section where the primary kids played. Just then, I heard someone yelling, “Sir? Sir! What’s you’re business here, sir?” I turn to look around and it’s the playground monitor who followed me from the other side of the school. “Yes! You, sir. Don’t move!” Nearby was the primary grade playground monitor…a woman whom my wife and I are familiar with. I said, “Karen, will you handle her for me? L is waiting for me to help carry some stuff.” So I kept walking and I heard, “Sir! I told you not to move and if you don’t stop I’m calling the po…” I looked back to see Karen speaking with this woman explaining that I was not a threat.

So…I’m glad they are on the lookout for dangers to our school children, but after 6 years it starting to get annoying.

And then there was the time, in my own neighborhood, when I was walking my girls around selling Girl Scout Cookies. We started off going up the street with the girls leap-frogging each other while going house to house. They went to houses 1 and 2, then the girl who went to house 1 went up to 3, the girl who went to house 2 went to house 4, etc etc etc. Well, due to a combination of one girl getting a couple of sales while the other did not, they eventually ended up on opposite ends of the street. So I stood on the sidewalk halfway between each one so I could keep and eye on both. Next thing I know, I hear from behind me, “Can I help you with something buddy?” I turned around to see a guy who had come out of his house and was standing in his yard, his wife behind him in the doorway on the phone.

“Nope.” And I turned back around to keep and eye on my girls. At this point, I had NO IDEA what this guy was thinking.

“What do you mean, ‘nope?’?” He had an indignant tone in his voice. “What are you up to?”

“Just selling some Girl Scout Cookies.” Perfectly logical (and true) explanation.

“Girl Scout--?” I turned back around to face him and he started walking toward me with a scowl on his face and pointing his finger. “You better tell me what the hell you’re doing around here, bud!”

“I told you. Girl Scout Cookies. I’m walking my daughters around the neighborhood.” I indicated my one daughter down the street, and then my other daughter up the street.

That calmed him down. “Oh. Oh. It’s all good. I was just…Hey, honey?” He turned to his wife who was still on the phone in the doorway. “It’s OK, he’s just taking his kids around selling Girl Scout Cookies.” Then his wife said into the phone, “Oh! Oh, it’s ok. It’s just some people selling Girl Scout Cookies. Sorry about that. Thanks.” Then she hung up. The guy explained to me that he was just watching out for things in the neighborhood.

“Yeah, sure. I understand. Did you want to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”

“Uh, no. No thanks. Have a good day.”

So I’m stunned. This dude tried to interrogate me, got a bit angry with me, had his wife on the phone with what I assume to be the police, and then doesn’t buy a box of cookies???? What a fucker.

2007-03-27T10:08:00.000-04:00

Well, I suppose that if you've REALLY got the itch, it doesn't matter where you scratch it?

2007-03-21T17:59:00.000-04:00

I recently had a discussion with some people about consequences. It started off with us talking about our kids and teaching them consequences, but rapidly turned into a big share-fest of personal stories about consequences.

For one guy, it was touching a hot stove. For another, it was throwing snowballs at cars and hitting a police car with one. For another, it was getting cut when handling a pocket-knife for the first time. Mine was throwing rocks at windows.

I was about 7 or 8 and our house was next door to small apartment building. I always thought that was odd, considering it was the only apartment building on the whole entire street, but I’m told it’s because the neighborhood was built before certain zoning laws were established and, well…there you have it.

ANYWAY…I was about 7 or 8 and my next door neighbor (other next door, NOT the apartment next door) and I were playing in his back yard. We got to wondering if we could throw rocks all the way across my backyard and break the window on the apartment building. This was not a big pane window, it was divided into small squares.

So, we spent some time throwing nickel and quarter sized rocks at this window until one of us, I can’t remember who, broke it. Yay! Mission accomplished! Whaddya wanna do now? It never entered our heads that this was vandalism, or it was wrong, or that someone was going to have to pay money to repair it. We just wanted to see if we could do it.

WELL…as you can probably guess, we were caught. Turns out the old woman who lived in the apartment had spied us through the window and she told my dad. My dad paid for the pane replacement and I had to spend an hour each day helping this lady with some chores. I vacuumed her floor, washed her dishes, mopped her floor, took out her garbage, etc. But I was OK with all of that. In my mind, my punishment was just being around her.

Loyal readers of HToV know about my…let’s call it “lack of enthusiasm”…when it comes to interacting with people whom I do not know very well. That hour each day was the longest hour ever. Being 7 or 8, I wasn’t very good at the chores I was doing and she was constantly talking to me about how to do it. Looking back, she was actually trying to teach and help me. She was very patient and she didn’t criticize, she’d dry the dishes while I washed, she’d get the bucket and mop ready…pretty classy. She could have been a mean old bitch, but she wasn’t.

But, damn, I hated it. I would have just rather done the chores and not said two words to her. But no. I had to talk about my school and things I liked to do and listen to her tales of changes the neighborhood had gone through. ::Shudder::

When the week was over, my dad asked if I had learned my lesson. I said yes. He asked what it was that I learned. I told him that you shouldn’t throw rocks at windows because you might have to be with someone you don’t know and talk about things. I remember him agreeing about the rock throwing and was satisfied that I wouldn’t do it anymore. He wasn’t too thrilled with my reason though. He explained the whole “vandalism” and “respect for others” to me, which was all well and good. But I don’t think I would have gotten as much out of the punishment if it was just going to rely on those concepts. The “having to be around and talk with someone you don’t know” thing is what really drove the lesson home.

2007-03-20T15:39:00.000-04:00

The other night my youngest daughter (8) was reading a Pokemon book that she got from the school library. I came into the room from the kitchen to find her curled up on the couch with her face buried in a pillow. She wouldn’t look at me and any time I tried to turn her over, she pulled against me keeping her face buried.

Finally, I got her to sit up only to find that she was crying her eyes out. After a lot of coaxing and a lot of hard listening in order to make out a coherent sentence that was racked with heaves and sobs, I found out that the book was “just sooooo sad!”

Turns out that the character in the book, Ash, traded away Butterfree, the second pokemon he had ever caught. My daughter wasn’t upset at THAT, but she found the whole idea of saying “good-bye” and giving up something of sentimental value just too much to bear. She calmed down after her brother (also 8) went ahead and told her how the book ended (Ash gets Butterfree back).

I can’t even begin to tell you how good it made me feel to see her get all worked up over a book. In my humble, vacuous opinion, way too many people look at reading as a chore and as something that’s done only when absolutely necessary. I LOVE that all 3 of my kids see reading as something that is engaging.

2007-03-14T17:05:00.000-04:00

The look of incredulity I often encounter from other men (and sometimes women) when I say any of the following things is downright hysterical.

No alcohol, thanks. I’ll just have a coke.
I hardly know anything about cars.
I only own a couple hammers, a screwdriver, and a ratchet set.
I don’t care about (insert sporting event here).

The other day, I took my son to a birthday party that was at some kind of club. It was pretty far away, so I was just going to hang out until the party was over instead of driving ALL they way back home and then ALL they way back to pick him up.

I asked one of the employees where I could just go sit down until the party was over and he directed me to an area that had several booths, a few TV’s, and a service counter to get food and drinks. The place had just opened and, at that point, I was the only one there. So the guy says, “Let me just get the game on the TV for ya.” I told him that it wasn’t necessary because I had brought book. That’s when I got the dumbfounded look, like he was trying to process information that was so far out of his realm of experience.

“You don’t want the game on?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? It’s (some basketball team) and (some other basketball team).”

“I don’t even know what that means. I’ll be fine with just my book.”

“Well, I just turn it on in case you change your mind.”

“Fine, whatever.” And on went the TV.

So, I sat there reading my book for about 10-15 minutes before other people started filtering in. These were parents of other kids at the party. I would have recognized them. These were people who belonged to the club. They obviously knew that a game was being played, but it had just gone to a commercial break. One of the guys asked me, “Who’s winning?”

“Huh?”

“Who’s winning the game?” he said, indicating the TV.

“Oh. I don’t have a clue.”

“Well, aren’t you watching it?”

“Nope. I’m reading my book.”

“How can you not be watching? It’s (some team) and (some other team)!”

“Sorry. Perhaps they’ll show the score when it comes back on.”

“Unbelievable.”

And this, ladies and gentlemen of the studio audience, is a text book example of WHY I don’t like parties, or get-togethers, or going out to dinner with other couples, or anything overtly social like that. Almost every guy wants to talk about beer, cars, or sports. And if there’s a game actually on TV, parties and get-togethers usually end up divided into the men watching TV and the women talking and laughing about….whatever. I just feel so out of place with it all. But, ultimately, I choose to hang out with the girls because…well, they’re not talking about beer, cars, or sports.

Now, to be fair, I will admit that I don’t put much of an effort into it. In fact, I put more effort into NOT engaging people. I will consciously demonstrate body language that says “Stay the fuck away from me.” For those who don’t speak the body language, I do my best to answer in one or two word responses, or with statements that don’t let the conversation grow.

Just last night, I went to the grocery store to get a Totino’s pizza ($1.00 each) and, when I got into line, the guy who was in front of me was a parent that I recognized from school. My first thought was, “I should’ve looked before I got in line so I could have waited until he left.” But it was too late, I was already there. I didn’t say “Hi.” I NEVER do that. Ever. That’s just asking for trouble. But, after a minute or so, he noticed me and said, “Hey, Kevin. How ya doin?”

Now, I COULD HAVE said, “I’m fine, thanks. What brings you to Kroger so late?”

But instead, I said, “Just fine.” And that was all.

He asked, “Are you handling the time change well?”

I COULD HAVE said, “Yeah, pretty well. It’s wreaked havoc at work and I’ve spent the last two days updating all the computers with the patches that corporate said were automatically pushed down but weren’t. But it’s great that it happened because it’s allowing soccer practices to happen a little later so everyone’s not rushed right after school.”

But instead, I said, “Yep.”

After he was done, he said “Good seeing you. Take care.”

I COULD HAVE said, “Good seeing you, too. Tell Sylvia I said ‘hi’.”

But instead, I said, “Later.”

I am simultaneously proud at and bothered by they way I handled that. And the weird thing is, the reason I’m proud is the exact same reason I’m bothered. I successfully avoided anything but the most superficial interaction with another person.

2007-03-10T23:02:00.000-05:00

I'm not usually one to hand out unsolicited recommnendations, but if you want a good laugh, check out Uncle Jay Explains the News. It's a weekly video, posted sometime on Sunday. It's a satire piece, and the format is that of "Uncle Jay" explaining the news to a younger audience. In my humble, vacuous opinion, I think it's absolutely brilliant. Even more so because it's a one-man operation. And now, on with the show.

You ever get a book out of the library and discover someone has gone through it with a blue pen and "edited" it for you? I got a book out the the library the other day (The Music Lovers by Jonathan Valin) and found it completely marked up. Every single religious invocation (Jesus, Jesus Christ, goddammit), every variant of curse word (shit, fuck, dick, asshole, ) and almost every derogatory name (fag, whore, nigger (but not ofay, which is a racial slur for a white person)), had been crossed out. And not crossed out very well, either. All the religious curses were crossed out with 2 strikethrough lines, while all the other "objectionable" words just had a single strikethrough. Who are these Holden Caufield's that are compelled to do this? And if you're going to do it, why do it half-assed so that the words are still readable?

2007-03-01T15:48:00.000-05:00

OK. In the past few days, I’ve had a HUGE breakthrough. This is something that has going for about 30 years…ever since I was in 1st or 2nd grade.

I remember music class. We didn’t have a music teacher that was as talented or personable as Mr. Holland. We had Mrs. Michaels. She was an older lady. She clearly knew her stuff and taught us how to read the musical staff and play the recorder and what the different kinds of notes were. But, at the risk of the pot calling the kettle black, she couldn’t sing. Or maybe she could, I don’t know. What I DO know is that when she did sing, it was always about 2 octaves higher than it should have been. That was really annoying.

However, that’s all just background and not germane to the point of this entry.

This one time, in music class, ~~I stuck a flute in my~~ we were singing the song Git Along Little Dogies. The what? The song Git Along Little Dogies. It’s an old western song. You can listen to it here (just the first 4 lines will be fine) and then click on The Old Man Rockin' The Cradle-Get Along Little Dogies(4.392 MB mp3 file) to listen to it (just skip to the 3:00 mark, that’s where the song begins). I know that’s an awful lot of hoops for you to jump through just for little ol’ me, but I don’t have my own personal domain where I could dump the file and I didn’t want to hotlink directly to the file. That would be unethical.

Anyway...I remember singing that song and thinking to myself, “I know this song from somewhere. Why do I know this song?”

I don’t want to sound like I’ve been obsessed for 30 years, but every now and then (like a couple times a month for years and years and years) I would hum this tune, think back to music class, and wonder how and when it got into my brain.

Then just the other day, I was at my mom’s house and I was looking through some of her old records. Records? Yes, records…those vinyl discs people would play using a turntable. I was looking through some of them and ran across a John Denver record. My mom said, “You used to sit and listen to this record for hours on end.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. One song, over and over again. You used to sing it all the time. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing. When we’d go to Kroger you’d have a crowd of people gathered around the shopping cart while you sang.”

“Which song was it?” I asked, looking at the list of songs on the album cover.

“Muhlenberg County. You used to sing it all the time.”

“Hmmmmmm….there’s no song called Muhlenberg County.”

“Well, maybe that’s not what it was called, but it’s on that record, that’s for certain.”

So I went online to the library catalog, located the CD and placed it on hold, to be delivered to my local branch for me to pick up at my leisure.

I picked it up from the library, listened to it and ran across the song Paradise. Then everything came together in an instant. Yes! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! That was it! The song my mom was talking about. But, more importantly, it was the reason I recognized the Git Along Little Dogies song from a lifetime ago! Paradise was the nameless tune in my head that’s haunted me almost my entire life! Click here, scroll down, and listen to track #3. As I listened, memories came flooding back. Me sitting next to the stereo in the living room with my ear against the speaker, me being very careful as I picked up the needle to listen to the song again, me drawing a picture of a mule in an iceberg, me sitting in the cart at the grocery store singing while my mom was paying, me playing with a toy train singing the song, all sorts of things. Much like finding part 2 of Ultraman (which you can read about here and then here), it’s like I’ve discovered my own personal Holy Grail, and now I don’t know what to do. But I know I feel differently, somehow. Like some sort of weight or something has been removed. It's weird.

2007-02-22T17:15:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a month since I posted about the mp3 player. I just gave it back to the guy. It sat in my desk drawer for a month and 7 days and never got used. And, the more I've thought about it, I think the whole "personal music player" just doesn't fit who I am. When I was a kid, I got a walkman for Christmas. Y'know...with cassette tapes? Never listened to it. Several years ago, I bought a CD Walkman, external speakers, and a couple of Billy Joel CD's while in Dallas on business so I could listen to what I wanted to listen to while in the car. After the Dallas trip? Never used it again.

Just last week, I got to play around with an iPod while in my friend's car. I swear to God, that's the neatest little gadget in the world. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted my own jukebox. And now I could have one that fits in the palm of my hand and will hold all the songs ever made by humankind.

I just don't understand how it's possible for me to want something that I KNOW I'll never, ever use.

2007-02-19T15:40:00.000-05:00

Last night, my daughter, A, asked me to stay in the bathroom while she got her bath. When I asked her why, she said that she was afraid a Great White Shark was going to come up out of the drain and she just wanted someone there with her.

Cute.

That got me thinking back to when I was a kid and the irrational fear I had about sharks. It was at the swimming pool. There were two diving boards: a low dive, which is what most pools have nowadays, and a high dive, which fewer and fewer pools seem to have. This high dive was about 12-15 feet high. Every time I stood on the edge of the diving board, I could clearly imagine the following scene: Just as I step off the diving board and commit myself to the freefall, a shark will emerge from the water directly beneath me and I will plummet straight into its mouth and eaten alive.

It didn’t matter that I KNEW that if there was a man eating shark in the pool, it would have been common knowledge and the pool would have been closed. It didn’t matter that I KNEW there was no way a shark could survive in a chlorine swimming pool. That’s the image that was in my head. I still jumped. But once I hit the water, I swam like the dickens to get to that ladder and out of the pool.

Then, strangely enough, that scene in my head kind of ended up really happening. When I was 10, my sister (who was in college) went on a trip with a big group of people to the Bahamas and she took me along. They had chartered a boat (named Sundancer). One day, everyone decided to go for a swim. Now, this was NOT a swimming pool. This is the actual ocean and there were actual sharks that lived in this ocean. Earlier in the trip, I had seen them. Needless to say, I didn’t want to go into the drink. I had my goggles on, but I didn’t want to go in. My sister was in the water telling me it was fine and that I could come on in, but I just stood on the deck of the boat in my goggles shaking my head no. So one of the guys grabbed me underneath the arms and threw me in. I screamed and held tightly onto my goggles, because I didn’t want them to fall of when hit the water and burn my eyes because of the salt. When I went under, I could see clearly because of the goggles. And I saw a shark. OK, so maybe it wasn’t a shark. Could’ve been a barracuda, might have been a dolphin, or it could have been a just a fish that was close, but at that moment, it was a goddamn shark. I swam back to the boat, scurried up the ladder and ran to my little cabin below deck. From then on, I wouldn’t go in the water.

To this day, whenever I go to a beach, I won’t wade out any farther than waist deep.

THAT was put to the test last year during spring break when we were given a trip to Hilton Head. One day, the dad of the other family we went with and I took all six kids for a walk down the beach. It was a fairly long walk…about 45 minutes down and about an hour or so back (cuz we were tired and walked slowly). On the way back, it seemed that the tide had come in and now there was…let’s just say…a river mouth where there wasn’t one before. We had to cross it in order to get back, no doubt about it. But this was really deep. The other dad went first with one of his kids and the water was up to mid-chest level on him, and he’s taller than me. But, I’m a dad and I’ve got my kids with me who need to get across. I don’t have the luxury of being uncomfortable in this situation so…I did what I had to do and took each kid across in turn, the water up to my shoulders, and all the while being nervous as hell because I’d read that the mouth of a river is a real popular spot for things like sharks and what not.

And yes, I sat on the bathroom floor with my book (Colonel Sun by Robert Markham/Kingsley Amis) while she got her bath.

2007-02-16T17:13:00.000-05:00

Well, I think it's safe to say that I won't be moving to Alabama, or Texas, or Mississippi.

2007-02-15T15:31:00.000-05:00

UPDATE #1:
I got the song Nearly Civilized by Esthero (which I mentioned in my previous post). Everyone can stop scouring their CD collections.

UPDATE #2:
I figured out how to put an image in for my header. Now I just have to come up with a design. Anyone know how to figure out what size the image should be? Or will I just have to arrive at that bit of knowledge through trial and error?

I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat over the past few days. I’ve cried at Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, I’ve cried watching an HBO show about Billie Jean King and when she beat Bobby Riggs. I’ve cried while watching Cheaper By The Dozen 2. I’ve cried at Deal or No Deal and at American Idol.

I don’t get it.

2007-02-12T04:40:00.000-05:00

Here’s an entry about several things, none of which are related. These are things that ran through my head at various times over the weekend and I thought to myself, “That’s prime blog material right there.” And so, without further adieu…

Does anybody have (or know someone who might have) an mp3 or wav of the song Nearly Civilized by a group called Esthero? I’m getting a collection of all of the James Bond themes and this is one that was used in the video game Nighfire. That’s a link to the opening opening of the game, so you can hear a little of the song. There is a much longer, “full version” though, and that’s what I’m looking for. Any help you can give me on this would be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance.

Hey, do you have any psychosomatic reactions to anything? I do. And no matter how much I tell myself how ridiculous it is, it still happens. This one time, when I was a kid…I’d say about 8 years old, my dad and I went on vacation to North Carolina. We went all over North Carolina, but the two things I remember most were Ghost Town in the Sky in Maggie Valley and this little town called Edenton. My dad wanted to go to Edenton, because, back in the ‘50s, he was stationed at the Marine base that was there. He took me on a tour of Edenton, pretty much telling me where things weren’t (“That wasn’t here then” and “None of this stuff was in the town square when I was here last”). Anyway, one night I had a migraine headache and was feeling very ill. My dad went out and got me some aspirin and a Dr. Pepper. I took the aspirin and drank about half the Dr. Pepper. Now, and ever since that night, I get a migraine headache if I taste a Dr. Pepper.

Background on the migraine headaches: I’ve had them all of my life. The are actually caused due to a physical problem. My spine doesn’t have the proper curvature in my neck and every so often, I get these intense headaches. I used to get them 3-4 times a week when I was a kid. In high school, my mom took me to a chiropractor because we’d tried almost everything else. He examined me and discovered the spinal issue. I noticed an immediate improvement after just 2 appointments. I ended up going for about a year, and stopped after not having a headache in over 2 months. Now, I get a migraine about once every 2 or 3 months. Typically I become very nauseous, but if I end up throwing up, the pain intensifies. I’ve tried ALL SORTS of pain relievers. Pamprin used to work, but I stopped using that after a tolerance was built up and I was taking 3 at a time to alleviate the pain. The only other medication to ever work is Immotrex…and only if I take it within an hour of first feeling a headache coming on. It is useless if I take it otherwise.

And finally, I like fun underwear. I do not own any “tighty whities.” All of my briefs are colored, have stripes, or have some type of design on them. I have solid colored boxers, but I also have boxers with Spider-Man on them, boxers with a huge Superman logo on them, boxers with the Abominable Snowman from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Star Wars boxers, Scooby-Doo boxers and a pair that have a big yellow smiley face on them. The really cool thing about that pair, though, is that the circle, the eyes, and the mouth glow in the dark. Not that anyone ever sees that feature, but I know it’s there and that’s enough for me.

2007-02-09T11:30:00.001-05:00

States Try To Ban Driver Distraction

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/02/08/ap/national/mainD8N5NI7O0.shtml

I understand, and agree with, the general idea behind this…that you should pay attention when you’re driving, but how is this enforceable? What conditions must be met before you’re convicted of a DWD (driving while distracted)? How long before the idea comes along to remove the radio/cassette player/cd player? And for anyone who is a parent out there, what about the biggest distraction of all…the screaming, fighting kids in the back seat?

2007-02-08T15:15:00.000-05:00

OK. So…I changed my template. I felt that a change was needed, so I did it. Am I happy with it? No, not really. But there were only a finite number of templates I could choose from and this just seemed to be the best of what was available. I think it could definitely use some color. I’d really like to figure out how to make my own, instead of using pre-selected, cookie-cutter templates). Or even customize one of the pre-selected, cookie-cutter templates to have my own header graphic or what not. Anybody out there have a clue how to do that? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s discuss sled riding. This past Tuesday, Cincinnati had some accumulating snow…five to seven inches within 8 hours. School was closed on Wednesday, and I left work early so L and I could take the kids sledding. There is a park about a half mile from our house that has a huge hill. It’s a very popular sledding spot, but we had never gone before and we figured that this is going to be the only decent snowfall this season. So off we went.

Now, this hill has kind of a cone shaped formation. There is plenty of room at the top of the hill, but it tapers inward as you go down the hill, ultimately ending at a footpath that winds throughout the park. As it turns out, due to the popularity of this location (there were about 25-30 sledders there), it is somewhat hazardous. Not hazardous because of landscape damage due to the amount of sled riders, no. Hazardous because no one was paying a damn bit of attention as to what was going on. Not just young kids, either. Full grown adults, too.

Once someone reached the bottom of the hill, they didn’t move to the side and then start back up. No, they just walked straight back up the hill…right smack dab in the middle of prime sledding area. It was interesting to watch the people climbing up the hill, scramble around haphazardly trying to avoid all the sleds that were careening down the hill. It was like watching pedestrians on highway moving against brake-less traffic. And they never. Seemed. To learn. Run after run, they would head back on up the middle of the hill. This was not just a handful of people, mind you… it was the vast majority of sledders. There WERE a smattering of people who did come up the side, though. Those people, like me, couldn’t understand why more people weren’t doing that.

And ya know what’s even more baffling to me? The fact that, very often, the people who were ascending up the middle of the hill would stop, and TURN AWAY from the onslaught of sleds in order to watch some sled that just whizzed past them. I saw soooo many people get nailed because they turned away from what was coming in order to watch something else. And that I just did not understand. Here they were, climbing up the hill, constantly moving left and right to avoid sleds coming down the hill. Why on EARTH would you think it’d be OK to turn your back on those sleds?

Oh, and here’s something else that I found mind-boggling. In this world of “I’m-a-victim-and-everything-is-someone-else’s-fault-and-not-mine,” not a single person who had been hit said anything like, “Watch were you’re going!” Everyone who got hit seemed to accept it as “just one of those things that happen.”

We only stayed for about a half hour or forty-five minutes because it was becoming too crowded and I didn’t want to push my luck regarding my kids’ safety. It would only have been a matter of time before one of them didn’t pay attention and ended up getting smeared by someone on one of those wood and metal rudder sleds.

2007-02-02T18:04:00.000-05:00

I’m not usually one for details. Well, sometimes I am, I suppose. Like…if someone were to ask me to pick up a canister of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles for them, I would want to know their second choice, should it turn out that there are no sour cream and onion, and then I’d want to know a 3rd choice…just to be safe. Or if something is so out of the ordinary or affects me deeply in some fashion. But usually, I don’t deal with details. Generalization is my typical modus operandi.

I would be an absolute terrible witness to a crime. I would not be able to give any sort of usable description to the police. I would be able to tell if it was a man or a woman. Or if the person was black or white. MAYBE if they had short or long hair. If it was a woman who, in reality, had long hair, but she had it pulled up in one of those bun kinda things, I’d most likely process that as “short hair.” I don’t pay attention enough and would be unable to answer questions like, “Broad shoulders? Full lips? Rounded chin? High cheekbones? Eye color?” I would know if the person HAD shoulders, or lips, or eyes, ears, and nose. Probably wouldn’t be able to say which hand the weapon was in, only that there was one. I would know if it was a gun (but not automatic or revolver) or a knife, but not whether the knife had a serrated edge or if it was a steak or butter knife.

I know that is something that bothers my wife, a lot. Not because we witness a lot of crime or anything, but because I always have a hard time figuring out whom it is she’s talking about when she’s telling me something that happened at school of if I have to tell her about something that was said or done at school.

99% of the time our conversations about that sort of topic follow this pattern:

Wife: “So, Katheen didn’t follow the instructions and now we don’t know how much money the PTA has for Spring Widgets.”
Me: “Who is Kathleen?”
Wife: “Oh, you know Kathleen. Kathleen Swanson. Ally’s mom.”
Me: “OK, I know how Ally is. But not her mom.”
Wife: “Sure you do. She’s got dark hair, always has it in a pony tail, and ALWAYS wears a green shirt.”
Me: “Ummm……..nope. No clue.”
Wife: “The one I was talking to after the basketball game on Saturday.”
Me: “No idea.”
Wife: “You helped her load that big box of books into her car.”
Me: “Oh. Yeah, I remember doing that. I don’t remember a pony tail or green shirt, though.”
Wife: “Whatever. Anyway….”

Or

Wife: “So, who was at Chess Club?”
Me: “I dunno. Several people. Jack, Billy, Trini, and Sarah were there.”
Wife: “Was Jack’s mom there?”
Me: “I dunno. Maybe.”
Wife: “Maybe?”
Me: “There were a few adults there. Some were men, some were women. Jack left with a woman. It may have been his mom.”
Wife: “What’d she look like?”
Me: “I dunno. Had a head, two eyes, couple ears, a nose, mouth…couple boobs.”
Wife: “Nevermind.”

Now, I don’t mean to give the impression that I’m terrible with faces or with names. Once I’m introduced to someone, I’ll remember who that person is whenever I see them again. Still, I wouldn’t be consciously able to describe that person to someone else if the need arose. I’d be able to look at a crowd a pick them out, though.

I’m like that with more than people though. While driving, I see types of cars…bus, van, VW Bug, pickup, car, etc. If I were to witness a hit-and-run type accident, all I’d be able to really say is something like, “A pickup truck did it.” More like a Ford or a Toyota pickup? I dunno. What color was it? I dunno it was a pickup truck. With wheels.

Outside, it’s either day or night. It’s either raining or it isn’t. I don’t pay attention to if it’s cloudy unless something happens to draw my attention to that aspect of the day. That “something” is usually when a stark contrast happens. For example, I could be outside during the day for a while an then, all of a sudden, it gets really bright. I’d recognize the stark contrast and only THEN realize that it had been cloudy and the clouds broke which allowed the sunlight to really shine through.

So where’d this post come from? What was the catalyst that made me decide, “Oh, this is SO going in my blog?”

I’ve got this friend, douglas.nerad, who can be found over there in the sidebar. I hadn’t seen or had any contact with Douglas since the early 90’s and it was only in the last 6 months or so that I discovered his online journal. Anyway, he apparently does this thing every so often called a blog challenge. It’s similar to a blog carnival, and yet different. ANYWAY…the other day a blog challenge was issued: Describe three items you found. There or “rules” and stuff, but basically that’s it.

Trouble is, I don’t really find too many things. What with my superficial way of interacting with my surroundings, I just don’t find shit. Sometimes I see things so out of the ordinary that they get past my superficial filter. Things like someone in a mascot outfit riding a ten-speed or a mini-van with a window-unit air conditioner (like you might have in an apartment) instead of a rear panel window. But I’m not usually observant enough to actually find anything.

2007-01-26T12:59:00.000-05:00

I’ve noticed several blogs recently have been doing posts about what search engine words/phrases have led people to their blogs. I thought that would be really cool to do, but quickly discovered that I am unable to do it because I just have the basic, free sitemeter thingy. Apparently, with the ultra-cool, deluxe, plus, biggie-sized version you can just click a link and get a wicked TPS Report (with the new cover) or some such document.

However, I have decided to not let that little obstacle get in may way and will be drawing on the vast power and encyclopedic knowledge that is stored in that thing I call a brain and will report my information as well.

The overwhelming majority of visits to HToV come via the random blog button created by Bobby over at Bestest Blog.

For whatever reason, I’ve had MANY vists over the years by people searching for X-acto knives.

Every once in a while, people have been shunted here by various versions of “nosebleed coming out of eye.”

The last several months, there have been well over 30 visits from people who were searching for “busty coeds” or “busty coeds cinemax.”

What surprises me most of all, considering that this IS the Internet and all, is that I’ve only gotten about 2 or 3 hits based on the content of this particular post (Warning: Contains graphic language and/or content of an “adult” and sexual nature. I neither encourage nor endorse anyone under the age of 18 to click this link. If, after having read the warning, you still choose to click the link…well, then…that’s your decision and you are responsible for whatever bizarre, psychological damage that may occur.)

Thanks for visiting.

2007-01-22T15:02:00.001-05:00

The personal mp3 player. What can I say about it? Not much, other than it’s just not for me. A couple of years ago, I thought I wanted one. One of our departments here at work has hundreds of these little 512 meg Rios and a guy from the department let me borrow one. I took it back to my computer, installed the software, hooked it up, and began perusing the 2000 or so songs I have on my computer. I copied over enough to fill up the thing and was all set and ready to go. And that’s when I found out I didn’t need one. I never had an occasion to turn it on and listen. My car only had a cassette tape deck. I figured I’d buy one of those cassette adapters and listen in my car. Nope. The tape deck kept ejecting the cassette adapter after 3 seconds. I returned it for another one and it kept getting ejected. So I returned it for my money back. I kept the mp3 player for 2 weeks, and never listened to it once. I’d listen to the songs on my computer while at work, but never found a situation where I would need a personal player. So I gave it back to the guy and said, “Glad I didn’t spend any money on one.”

Then for my birthday in 2005, my wife got one a 4 gig personal mp3 player. I thanked her for it, but said that it was a waste of money and we should take it back. Instead I got a cd player for my car that would play both regular CD’s and mp3 data discs. So that’s what I use.

Lately, I discovered that one of the talk radio stations here in town offers its talk shows via podcast (which is just a spiffy way of saying mp3). I was so excited. I could now listen to my favorite morning talk show (which I don’t get to listen to cuz I’m at work) anytime I want. However, it seems like such a waste to burn 75 megs of talk show to a CD. That’s only using 10% of the CD. Unfortunately, the in-dash cd/mp3 player won’t play CD-RW’s…only CDR’s. HERE is the perfect use for a personal mp3 player.

So, a friend of mine who just got a new iPod, let me borrow is 1 gig iRiver last Monday. I copied the talk show onto it, plus several other songs I might want to listen to…and that’s it. It’s been sitting in my desk drawer ever since.

The in-dash player doesn’t have an input jack, and I can’t justify spending money on an mp3 player AND an wireless FM transmitter just so I can listen to a 2 hour talk show whenever I feel like it.

So, the personal mp3 player just doesn’t make any sense for me and my lifestyle.

But they sure are neat, aren’t they?

2007-01-17T15:31:00.000-05:00

Got tagged by Mairin Verthandi over at Tales from the Trenches to do a meme. So here it be.

1. If you had to choose one vice in exclusion of all others what would it be?
Lust

2. If you could change one specific thing about the world what would it be?
I would ditch the whole daylight savings time thing. This spring, we should all just set our clocks ahead ½ hour and be done with it forever.

3. Name the cartoon character you identify with the most.
I was always kinda partial to Underdog.

4. If you could live one day in your life over again which one would it be?
What’s the point in doing that? I think the memory of whatever day that is for someone is probably much better than the actual day was. Why ruin it?

5. If you could go back in history and spend a day with one person who would it be?
I’d want to spend the day with the first person that looked at a crab or a lobster and said, “I’m gonna eat that!” He must’ve been one hungry dude.

6. What is the one thing you lost, sold or threw away that you wish you could have back?
My Superman doll from 1979.

7. What is your one most important contribution to this world?
Well, of course the answer to this question is my kids.

8. What is your one hidden talent that nearly no one knows about?
I can swallow in such a way that it sounds like a fart.

9. What is your most cherished possession?
There is nothing that I have which I would classify as “cherished.” I have things I like. I have things that I’d miss if I didn’t have them anymore. But there’s nothing that holds a super-special place in my heart of hearts.

10. What one person influenced your life the most when growing up?
Ultimately, I think it would have to be my mom. She did a real good job at instilling the messages “If it’s too hard to do then you shouldn’t even try” and “Whatever you do isn’t all that good and someone will have to come and correct it.” She wasn’t malicious or condescending while she was teaching me this. I’m 100% certain that she has/had no idea that this was the message she was broadcasting.

11. What one word describes you better than any other?
Goofy.

2007-01-13T18:29:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, around 5 pm while my wife was out somewhere with our girls, I was awakened from my fever induced sleep by my son screaming in terror. "Daaaad! There a squirrel in the house!!! It's in my room!! Waaaaahhhhh, there's a squirrel in my room!!!"

I, of course, was instantly awake. "Where? Where?" He led me to his room and, right there on the windowsill, was a squirrel. Oh, joy. I shut his door, walked down the hall and shut the door to my daughters' room and to my room. I checked to make sure the squirrel was still in my son's room (it was) and I went through the kitchen to close the basement door. OK. Now, if it got out of my son's room it would still be confined to the hallway, living room, dining room, and kitchen.

Despite the screaming by my son and, what I felt, the palpable adreneline induced excitement in the air, my two dogs were still lying on the living room floor. I peeked into my son's room (still on the windowsill) and called the dogs over. As soon as they saw it, the game was afoot.

One of the dogs jumped onto his bed. The other remained on the floor, blocking the exit. All three animals just stood there, each waiting for something to happen. Then it did. The squirrel jumped, in an attempt to leap over the dog on the floor and head out the door. It didn't make it. The dog smacked it out of the air. I'm not sure exactly what happened after that, cuz I said "Oh, shit!" and shut the door. After that, I just heard a lot of running around in there. Then it kind of calmed down.

I opened the door to peek in. Apparently, the dogs had trapped the squirrel under his bed. Now, his bed isn't one of those beds where you can just slide things under. He's got a big wooden thing with six drawers and the only way under the bed is either through the space between the mattress and the wall or to push the matterss all the way toward the foot or head of the bed and slide through that gap. One of the dogs figured that out and under the bed she went. I heard just a few seconds of scuffling and that was that. Then the dog came out. I wasn't sure if she got it or if it had somehow escaped or what. I left the two dogs in there, shut the door and called my neighbor.

She came over with a cardboard box and I told her the story. We decided to check under the bed. I lifed the mattress and she held the box like a shield to bat the squirrel away if it jumped out like things do in the movies. As soon as I lifted the mattress, I saw it. Dead. I ended up scooping it up with a snowshovel and putting in the box, which I taped securely enough that not even Houdini could have escaped.

I believe the squirrel came in through a hole in my son's wall. A hole that had been there for several years that his desk was sitting in front of. So...if it came in through the wall, that means that it was in my attic. I haven't heard or seen any more, but that doesn't mean that they're not there. I'm really not looking forward to setting traps and all that other stuff that goes along with removing these creatures from my life.

Have any live studio audience members ever had to deal with a situation like this?

2007-01-12T16:44:00.000-05:00

Over the Thanksgiving ’06 holiday, I got into a disagreement with someone about the Borat movie. He asked if I saw it. I hadn’t but had seen many clips from it over the Interweb. He asked my opinion and I said that everything I had seen had me in hysterics. He then told me that he had read some of the controversy about the movie gone to see it, found it offensive, and ended up walking out. Well, that surprised me. Here’s a guy that listens to Howard Stern religiously. I just couldn’t fathom how he could be offended. So I asked.

He said that most of what he saw was pretty funny; things that Borat did, how he was interacting with people, saying racist and insulting things and the reactions of the people. But it was when Borat was at the rodeo and sang the “Kazakhstan National Anthem” that this guy got offended. He didn’t like the fact that Borat used The Star-Spangled Banner as the tune. He said that Borat was making fun of patriotism.

This is where the disagreement, which turned pretty heated, began. I said that I didn’t understand how he could find it offensive enough to walk out, when he was laughing right along with the movie up until that point. He just felt that it had crossed the line and was completely uncalled for, especially in the political climate that exists right now. So I wanted to know why it was OK for him to be laughing along with the all the racism and religion jokes, but draw the line when it comes to taking a jab at The National Anthem. He just felt that it wasn’t right and walked out of the movie.

I fired back with the idea that, if you go to this movie, knowing that there’s controversy about it, knowing that Borat is going to be satirically making fun of anything and everything, and laughing at Jew jokes, ethnic jokes, religious jokes, and anti-women attitudes…then you give up any right to be offended when he finally turns his sights on something YOU hold dear. You just gotta roll with it, take your licks like everyone else, and move on. YOU’RE not that special to be immune from it.

He said that was bullshit and that he has every right to be offended.

I stood my ground and said that when you willingly put yourself in a situation where you KNOW that “being offensive” is part of the show, it’s hypocritical to laugh at everything and then get upset when something you are or believe in is attacked.

Eventually, with the intervention of several other people, we agreed to disagree.

I told this story to several people at work the next week and was shocked that most everyone agreed with him. And I’m still being haunted by this argument. It came up again the other day when someone brought it up to me as we were discussing movies. This guy asked what I thought of the movie The Descent. I said I like it a lot, and jokingly added that all those girls would have probably died of hypothermia being 2 miles underground in the cave, wearing tank tops and shorts and getting soaked in the underground stream. Well, he used that as support that my argument about the Borat movie didn’t make any sense. “How can you say you both liked the movie and had a problem with it?”

::Sigh:: I then had to explain that it was a nitpick and it didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the movie. Also, I didn’t TURN OFF the movie and say it sucked because of that little “problem.” He said I was being inconsistent. I said the situations were completely different. He said that it sounded like I was the hypocrite.

What are your thoughts on the subject?

2007-01-09T01:49:00.000-05:00

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

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2006-12-29T02:14:00.000-05:00

Well, hey there everybody! What would a post-Christmas entry be without my usual bitch and moan session about gifts given and received? Should you feel an overwhelming curiosity to read my posts from previous years, you can click here.

Anyway, this year is about how my kids got the shaft from my MIL. As I’ve mentioned in previous Christmas posts, my wife’s family exchanges gifts a few days before Christmas. This year, we had our gift-giving night at our house. Our family, wife’s sister’s family, and wife’s parents. My niece got dance game for PS2, along with the floor pad (which was sold separately. My one nephew got a handwriting analysis kit and a fingerprint detection kit. My other nephew is younger (like 3) so he got something age appropriate.

My kids gifts were as follows: a toolbox (with tools) for Z. That was awesomely cool, since Z likes to build things and figure out how things work and are put together. But then came my daughters. S got a shirt and a small purse. A got a shirt and a small purse. MIL kept saying, “Those bags are Longaberger.” “Those bags are Longaberger.” And that’s all fine and dandy, but the kinds don’t know (and don’t care) about Longaberger. All they saw was that their cousins got something to do and play with, and they did not.

My oldest came to us the next day saying that, while she liked the shirt very much, she felt kinda bad that she and her sister didn’t get anything to play with. She wanted to know if it meant that grandma loved her cousins more. We did our best to explain to her that the bags were kind of expensive and that grandma really thought that they would like the bags and shirts. We went on to explain that she and her sister behave more maturely than the other kids and that grandma probably didn’t think about getting something “fun.” She said that she understood and went on her way. But I’m fairly certain that it’s still in the back of her mind.

I mean, come on. We all remember when our Christmases stopped being about getting toys and fun shit, and started becoming about handkerchiefs and hair clips. It sucked. But I think it sucks more when 2 kids in the same family, the same age, get so diametrically opposite gifts.

Not an hour later the phone rang. It was MIL, doing what she always does a day or two after giving the kids something…calling to see how they liked it and how much time they’ve spent with her gift. She asked about it, and my wife told her. The immediate excuse was that the PS2 game and pad were on sale, as where the handwriting and fingerprinting kits. Each grandchild had approximately the same amount of money spent on them, give or take a couple bucks. ::Sigh:: That was never our complaint, and our explanation of what was upsetting to our kids was never understood by her.

2006-12-27T18:14:00.000-05:00

Thanks for visiting my blog. After you're done here, you could check out several quality blogs over there in my side bar or you could also check out the blog carnival over at Who Are We.

2006-12-24T23:59:00.000-05:00

I’m 36 years old and have never been able to wrap a present in such a way that it looks presentable. My wife wrapped about 30 presents in 2 hours and I can’t wrap a present to save my life. 7 gifts, 4 rolls of wrapping paper, two and a half hours, 1 roll of tape. I either cut the paper too small or I cut it way too large. A couple of boxes I ended up just cutting the paper to the size of each side, top and bottom and taped them on. I hate hate HATE this part of Christmas.

2006-12-21T16:47:00.001-05:00

Two weeks ago, I had to cancel a racquetball game because the kids had their Winter Concert at school. My opponent and I agreed to make up the game on Monday 12/18 at 9pm.

So, 9pm Monday 12/18 comes around and I show up at the Y and my opponent is there and he said to me, “Y’know, when we scheduled this make up game, I forgot that the Bengals were on Monday Night Football.”

I said, “Oh yeah? I had no idea. Didja wanna reschedule or…?”

“No,” he said. “You came all the way out here to play, so we’ll play.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

So we proceeded to play our three-game match. I lost most decisively. 15-0, 15-0, 15-0. But those scores don’t do my loss justice. These three matches lasted a grand total of 17 minutes. And to really put this into perspective for you, the other guys who were playing their game at 9pm in a different court hadn’t even finished their first game.

My opponent apologized to me, saying that he really wanted to get back to the football game. I told him not to apologize for that, but instead he should apologize for not playing that way the previous 6 times we’ve faced each other. I mean, I’m never going to get better if I’m being treated with kid gloves.

2006-12-14T17:07:00.000-05:00

Hmm. It seems as if December is a very light blogging month for me. Been busy, busy, busy. What with basketball, boy scouts, girl scouts, indoor soccer, ballet, newspaper club, choir, art club, spelling bee, geography bee, and getting ready for the upcoming holiday…I just haven’t felt like sitting down and taking the time to pound out a blog post.

So…it’s not you. It could never be you, so don’t think that. It’s me. But I hope we can remain friends.

Anyway, I feel as though I owe you some kind of content here, since you did take the time to google me or click the link from either your own blog or a blog you were reading.

Hey, did you hear about the Christian Fraternity that is suing the University of Georgia? The University is refusing to recognize it because it requires all its officers and members to be Christians. The University says that the fraternity’s membership rules violate the University’s non-discrimination policies for student groups.

Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the whole point of a fraternity to be discriminating in who it chooses to accept or not accept? From what the University’s policies state, it would seem that guys could join sororities (which would be way cool because then they could be present at all the “pillow fights in underwear” events), girls could join fraternities (if you’re a girl, feel free to insert a reason here), people with blue eyes could join the brown eye fraternity/sorority, etc etc.

I’m on the Christian Fraternity’s side. If the fraternity Fucka Buncha Yu can reject a pledge who didn’t tie a brick to his papa parts and then toss the brick off the roof, then I think the Christian Frat should be able to reject a pledge who answers negatively to the question, “Do you pledge your belief in Jesus Christ?”

2006-12-04T23:53:00.000-05:00

Here is...in my humble, vacuous opinion...what is wrong with overprotecting our kids and "keeping them safe" from life's little disappointments such as losing a soccer game or being "IT" in a game of tag. Teen Murderer Says Jail Is Too Hard, Appeals Sentence

2006-11-28T16:59:00.001-05:00

*** WARNING: THIS ENTRY CONTAINS WORDS THAT SOME PEOPLE WILL PROBABLY FIND OFFENSIVE TO SOME DEGREE. IF YOU CONTINUE READING, THEN IT IS CLEARLY YOUR CHOICE TO DO SO AFTER I VOLUNTARILY WARNED YOU THAT THERE ARE WORDS IN HERE THAT YOU, ON ANY GIVEN DAY, WOULD RATHER NOT SEE OR SAY (EVEN TO YOURSELF). THERE IS NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY HERE. YOU AND YOU ALONE ARE MAKING THE DECISION TO READ FURTHER, IF THAT IS INDEED THE DECISION YOU’RE MAKING. SO, UNLESS YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF COMPUTER PROGRAM THAT FILTERS OUT CERTAIN WORDS THAT YOU MIGHT FIND OBJECTIONABLE, YOU WILL INEVITABLY RUN ACROSS SOME RATHER CRASS AND UNPLEASANT WORDS. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED ***

So Michael Richards (Kramer from Seinfeld) called a couple of guys niggers. Whoop dee fuckin doo. And here we are, a couple of weeks later, and people are still talking about it. It’s an international incident. Jesse Jackson wants to ban that particular racial slur from TV and film.

Now, you will not find me making excuses for what Mike did. To be sure, what he said was disrespectful. It was unprofessional. It was uncalled for. The Laugh Factory is perfectly in their right to say, “Hey, ya know what. We don’t want to give you a venue anymore if you’re going to behave this way.” He should probably apologize to the guys for calling them that. I’ll even go so far as to say he should probably apologize to everyone in the audience at the Laugh Factory for letting the show become derailed in such a fashion.

But he shouldn’t have to apologize to the community at large. He should not be required to take anger management courses. He should not have to make charitable contributions (totaling $6 million dollars) for the six derogatory words he used on the stage, as the Laugh Factory would like him to do. And he should not be named as a defendant in a lawsuit.

Some of the stories I’ve read have stated that “it’s the worse racial epithet you could call someone.” I disagree. I will agree that it’s the worse thing you could call someone of the Colored/Black/Afro-American/African-American persuasion. However, I don’t think the Italians would care if you called them that. I think they’re more concerned whether or not you’re calling them Wops, Dagos, or Guineas. The Jews don’t want to be called Kikes. The Germans don’t want to be called Krauts. Asians would prefer not to be called Slants or Slopes. The list can go on and on, but I think I made my point.

Ol’ Mike Richards claims that he’s NOT a racist. But so what if he is? If you find what he said unacceptable, that’s fine. Don’t go see his show. Boycott the 7th Season DVD of Seinfeld, if you want. But don’t call your Congressman, your Senator, or your lawyer. He didn’t deny these two guys any service, while giving service to someone else. He didn’t exclude them simply because they were black, and include others because they weren’t. He didn’t make them sit in the back of the comedy club, or give up their seats to a white member of the audience. He didn’t deny them any privilege, while giving privileges to others. He called them a name.

2006-11-22T11:39:00.001-05:00

OK, two things have come in in the past few days that have totally floored me.

Thing 1
Monday, I went on a field trip with Z and A’s class. We went to a nature center and learned about the different plants and animals and what not. While we were there, the nature center guide was going to paint the kids’ faces. Nothing too ornate, just a very simple symbol for some types of animals. So simple, that it took only about 30 seconds to paint it on.

Anyway, when the kids told her what kind of animal symbol they wanted, she would ask them a question or two about that animal (based on the talks and presentations from earlier in the day). Something along the lines of “Oh, you want a deer symbol? OK, what’s a female deer called?” If the kid didn’t know, she’d help out by offering clues or whatever until they got it.

Well, there’s this one kid in the class who is developmentally disabled. He’s not retarded, but there is definitely something that’s not happening in his head. It’s evident in everything he does. When it was his turn to get painted, he wanted a lion symbol. So the guide person asked him, “What is a group of lions called?” He sat there for a minute and said, “I want a lion.” She said, “Sure, but first what is a group of lions called? Starts with a d.” He said, “Native American.” “Nooo, not Native American. Starts with a d.” She then tried to help him out by beginning to sound out the word “DEN.” He said, “Honeysuckle.” In the end, she gave him the answer and he got his face painted and was happy.

So…last night I asked my wife at what grade do they start moving these types of kids into the “special” classes. I vaguely remembered that there were no special classes for K and 1st grade, but I couldn’t remember when they DID start. I told her what happened and that I was just wondering how long this kid was going to be suffer this kind of disservice because he really needs to be in an environment where he can get the slower paced, more specialized education that he needs. My wife said that his parents would never allow that to happen, because they want him to be treated like everyone else. Furthermore, if the school determined he would need to be in that kind of class, she’s sure they parents would pull him out and send him to a different school.

And to me, that’s sad. I mean, I understand not wanting to treat your kid super-special and not make it a big talking-point issue about how “you’re different.” But when it’s staring you in the face, you should do something to help the kid instead of letting him flounder around at levels where he’s obviously not capable.

Thing 2
All that stuff above led to another discussion about a different kid who’s in Kindergarten. His mom wants him to do Kindergarten again because she doesn’t feel he’s ready to move on. He doesn’t know his numbers and is having a hard time reading. And by “reading,” we’re talking about words like cat, dog, and car. My wife told me that this mom said to her, “I just don’t understand. So…what? I guess it’s OUR job now to teach our kids to read?”

WHAT????

I can’t even begin to fathom how someone WOULDN’T think it’s their job.

2006-11-16T00:28:00.000-05:00

Global Orgasm Day. Mark your calendars.

Come one, come all!

2006-11-15T16:58:00.000-05:00

Way back in 1980, the movie The Empire Strikes Back was released. In this movie, Luke Skywalker travels, at the behest of the spirit of Obi-Wan Kenobi, travels to the planet Dagobah to learn the ways of The Force from the ancient Jedi, Yoda.

After my friends and I saw this movie, we constructed our own Jedi Training Regimen. First thing we did was spend our allowance money on some brooms. See, back then, all brooms had wooden handles. We sawed off the handles and they became our lightsabers. We would have sword fights with them and constantly had bruises all over our bodies from where we had been hit. But as time went on, we learned how each other fought and the bruises lessened (but still happened).

We would also have Deflection Training. This entailed one of us standing there with his lightsaber while the others (up to 5) stood 15-20 feet away and whizzed tennis balls at him. The object for the lone Jedi was to not get hit, either by dodging the balls or deflecting them with the lightsaber/broomstick. That person was “out” when he let himself get hit by 10 tennis balls.

I ended up being particularly good at this. Of all of us, I was the one who could consistently last the longest, my record being about three-and-a-half minutes dodging, ducking, dipping, diving and deflecting. It’s weird to say, but I was so focused on where those balls were that they seemed to be moving in slow motion. I also began to recognize patterns of how people attacked. Bill would typically throw 2 low balls and then a high, John would alternate high low, etc. Because of all those things, I was able to make educated guesses as to where the balls were headed and whether or not I should deflect or avoid.

There were other trainings that we did, but they don’t have any impact on what Paul Harvey would call “the rest of the story.”

Here I am, 26 years after my Jedi training, and I’m having a hard time in the racquetball league. For the last 15 matches, I have won 1 game. By the way, 1 match = 3 games. Yeah, I’ve been losing a lot. And they’ve been pretty decisive losses at that with scores like 15-2, 15-0, 15-4, blah blah blah. I just haven’t been able to do anything remotely resembling a strategy. Many times, it’s all I can do to just keep the ball in play. I’ve kept a decent attitude about it, opting for the “At least I’m getting a lot of exercise” take on the whole issue.

Now, as you may or may not know, this past weekend Cinemax aired (can you call it “aired” if it’s cable?) all six Star Wars movies back to back to back to back to back to back…over and over again. It began at midnight Friday night/Saturday morning and ended Monday morning at 7:40am. Because my wife and daughters were on a Girl Scout campout this past weekend, my son and I were able to watch these movies. We weren’t going to be able to watch all six straight through, so we watched 1, 2, and 3 on one day and 4, 5 and 6 the next day. The whole weekend we lived and breathed Star Wars…the movies, video games, legos, read a couple books….it was all Star Wars.

So, Monday night at racquetball, Star Wars was still fresh in my mind. As I stood there waiting for my opponent to serve, I decided to treat this as a Jedi training session…just to have fun a relive a little bit of my childhood. Wow, what a difference! I wasn’t out of position, I wasn’t rushing to get to the ball, I had more time to decide how and where I was going to hit the ball instead of smacking at it out of desperation and at the end I was less tired. I still lost all three games, but the scores were 15-14, 15-13, 15-13.

Of course, one result does not an hypothesis prove, so I’m gonna approach it the same way next match. We’ll see how it goes.

2006-11-11T23:24:00.000-05:00

This story got me kind of upset. "Instead of Spongebob, Children See Sex Show" For those of you who don't want to click the link, I'll summarize. ::deep breath:: Spongebob Movie was scheduled to come on Showtime at 6am following a steamy movie called Busty Coeds but unfortunately the boxing match from earlier that night ran longer than aniticpated so it ended up pushing the end of Busty Coeds past the 6am Spongebob start time and now some woman is upset because she had set their Digital Video Recorder to record Spongebob at 6am but instead her kids ended up seeing some girl-on-girl porn. ::whew::

Here's the quote from the woman that made me upset: "I was totally not prepared to explain this to my kids right now at this age. It has forced me to now go into issues with them that I was not ready to go into and I didn't think they were ready to go into. Now, TV has forced me to go into this with small girls."

Oh. TV forced her into it. It couldn't possibly be her own ignorance or indifference about what's on the channel she's recording. Being a parent myself, I am always aware of what shows may preceed or follow a show I'm recording for my children. Anyone who has EVER recorded a TV show, either with a DVR or one of them there old-fashioned VCR's, has, at one time, experienced "not getting what you were hoping for" for one reason or another...be it a surprise Presidential speech, an overtime/extra-inning sporting event, or some live award show running long.

So, I e-mailed the reporter asking why this story was news, citing that I have The Amazing Race scheduled to automatically record, but since football season began, the start time for my show gets delayed and ::GASP:: I get the last 1/2 hour of 60 Minutes when I was hoping for The Amazing Race. So why isn't my situation news?

The reply I received was very professional, indicating the issue at hand was about scheduling and the fact that Showtime had aired a porn movie immediately prior to children's programming. In fact, Showtime said it "regrets the incident and will closely monitor future schedules in an effort to prevent any programming or content conflict." Which is all well and good, but what doesn't conflict with girl-on-girl porn?

Look, these kids didn't deserve to see what they saw. And, as a parent, I can empathize with the situation this woman is in regarding what to say to her kids. But let's drop the "victimized by TV" slant. This woman simply fucked up and didn't monitor when the show was being recorded or what was on before or after the show that was scheduled to be recorded. And now she has to deal with her mistake. Hardly newsworthy to me.

2006-11-09T17:06:00.001-05:00

What makes a good party? These people from the 50's had a pretty darn good idea of how to host a rip-rollicking good one!

What Makes A Good Party?

2006-11-02T14:31:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, we had this book called The Best Loved Poems of the American People. When I first discovered this book, I totally thought that was true…that these poems were indeed the best loved ones of the American people. Since I had never heard of any of them, I memorized a few of the titles and verses in the book of poetry, went to school and peppered my conversations with titles and quotes from these poems so that people would see that I was “in the know.” I mean, I didn’t want to be one of the American People who didn’t know any of these supposedly “best loved” poems. I figured, based on the title, that everyone would know them. I asked my friends and my teachers if they had heard of this one or that one or that one or this one. Now, looking back, I see that asking other 9 year olds was kind of ridiculous. But none of my teachers knew any of the poems I mentioned, either. So my conclusion was that there must have been a vote back in the 1920's or 1930's (before my teachers were born) where a bunch of newspapers asked readers to send in their favorite poems. Then, all the newspapers got together and sorted out the poems into stacks, so that all entries for this poem was in one stack, all entries for that poem were in another stack and so on. Then...they took the 100 largest piles and said, "These! These are the best, loved poems of the American people! By Jove, we'll include them in a book so that all the people of America can learn to love them, too."

Anyway, after I discovered this book on our shelf, my dad saw me reading it one day and shared with me his favorite poem. At 9, I had no clue what the poem was about or what it meant, but after I started going to catholic school in 7th grade (1982 for those keeping score at home) and hearing, for the first time in my life, about God and His divine plan and what not, I remembered a poem from the book that was the complete and total opposite of what I was now hearing from the teachers. I went home and got the poem book down off the bookshelf. I had long since forgotten the name of the poem, so I glanced through each one, looking for that last line that I remembered quite clearly. I thought, but wasn't certain, that this was the same poem my dad had showed me. Or it could have been just one of the many I had read years ago, so I went to ask him. He didn't have to look at the book. He had it memorized and recited it to me. It was called "Invictus," by Wm. Ernest Henley. I think that this poem served to shape my belief structure more than anything else.

Anyway, this poem didn’t show up again until Oct 2005 at my dad’s funeral. Only, it wasn’t exactly THAT poem. I was awfully surprised when the reverand/pastor/monsignoir/priest guy read a poem that he "knew was [my dad]’s favorite."

The following link has both the poem that my dad shared with me years and years ago, (on the left) and the poem that was read at my dad's service (on the right). http://www.pilgrim.demon.co.uk/alex/invictus.htm I asked my mom where that poem came from and why it was read, and she said, through her tears, "Because your daddy wanted it."

In the house where I grew up, there was never any talk of religion. However, at some point it had to have been mentioned because I knew there was someone named God who lived up in the sky on a cloud. He sat on a throne and watched angels bowl (i.e. thunderstorms). I had no inkling about why they were bowling. I just knew that they bowled and, I assume, slept when they weren’t bowling. It was all a very storybook-ish type image. I was raised with a very strong “personal responsibility” motif and that it was MY choices, right or wrong, that would turn me into whoever I would eventually become.

So, to hear that poem read, and by my dad’s request at that, I felt….betrayed? Angry? Disappointed? Confused? All of the above? It was totally different from how I was raised. It was so foreign to me that I could almost hear the screeching of tires as my “emotional involvement” in the funeral proceedings came to a stop. Everything from that point up until they played Taps at the graveyard had no meaning or impact for me. It was as if I was at some stranger’s funeral.

From what I know about my father, and from my experience with a few other people I’ve known in my life, I think that as some people get older, they tend to WANT to believe because they know that they've almost reached the end. In my vacuous, humble opinion, I think that's like cramming for the test the night before. I mean, how is it that a lifelong theory of thought gets tossed out the window based on the fear that there might not be, and the hope that there will be, something more? And if it’s based on hope, I don’t think that should qualify as “faith,” for the two are different.

2006-10-30T15:53:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday, we were invited out by a couple of friends of ours. They suggested getting a sitter for the night and we’d head over to Newport on the Levee for dinner and whatever. We don’t get much of an opportunity to get out without the kids, but we were able to work it out (kids spent the night at Grandma’s) and off we went.

For those who don’t know, Newport on the Levy is an entertainment complex that played a HUGE part in turning Newport, KY from “Cincinnati’s asshole” to one of the happening places to be. Newport, KY has done what Cincinnati has failed to do time and time again: turn their downtown area into someplace people want to go. People don’t go to downtown Cincy because there’s nothing to do there. Sure, there’s a restaurant or 6. But downtown is not a place where people go to “hang out” and do things and spend money and socialize. Newport on the Levee is just such a place, and I think it’s great that a run-down little village stepped up and did something to get people coming. Cincinnati, meanwhile, debates stupid stuff like dog parks or a ferris wheel.

Anyway…we went to Newport on the Levee and ate at a place called Jefferson Hall. I gotta tell ya, I wasn’t impressed. I didn’t really enjoy the dinner for a couple of reasons. For one thing, the popcorn shrimp was way to crunchy. Now, I don’t expect too much from bar food, which is the kind of place this is, but eating popcorn shrimp shouldn’t remind you of eating Grape-Nuts. Also, they brought me a Rum-and-Coke instead of just a regular Coke. My first clue that something was amiss should have been when they sent the drinks in front of us. My wife’s water and our friends’ beers came in these big 32 ounce plastic cups and I had a 6-ounce glass tumbler. Being the sophisticated drinker that I am, I thought, “Well that’s odd. Surely, beer is more expensive than Coke, so how can they have more than me? What a thing to skimp on.” My second clue should have been the little swizzle straw. But, with my astute mind and all, I thought, “OK, small glass, small straw.” I sucked a mouthful through it. Instantly, I thought, “Ugh, their Coke syrup isn’t working, it’s just carbonated water.” Then I swallowed, and it all became clear. I pushed it to the center of the table and proclaimed, “That isn’t Coke.”

I called the waitress back and got it all straightened out, but that god-awful taste would not leave. Even through the popcorn shrimp, the bacon cheese fries, the onion rings, and the ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery…that taste would not go away. There were several times that I felt like I was gonna throw up. God, it was bad.

Newport on the Levee itself? Umm….it’s more of less just a big mall. Whoopee. After the ice cream, we kinda milled about aimlessly asking, “So waddya wanna do now?” There was talk of a movie, cuz there are movie theaters there. Now, movies are out of the question no matter what because they’re just way too expensive, and my wife and I were already concerned because we had spent a lot of money on the parking and the bad dinner. My rule for the cinema used to be no movies after 6pm, cuz that’s when the matinee prices stopped, but those prices aren’t that good either. Last movie I went to was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, because you make exceptions when your kids are involved. Even though both the new James Bond movie and the new Spider-Man movie are coming out within the next seven months, the next movie I’ll probably go to the theater for is Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (again, the kids). So the price, along with the fact that there was nothing that really struck our interest, took the movie right out of the equation.

The Funnybone Comedy Club came up in conversation. Each ticket twice as much as the movie would have been. I kept repeating in my head, “Please let it be too late, please let the show have already started, please let it have started, please, please.” Whew. The show had already started and the next one wasn’t for another 2 hours 15 minutes. So we just stood around, still asking, “So waddya wanna do?”

There was a Gameworks there. The problem with that is you can’t go into a place like that and expect to have any good time for less than $20 to $25 per person. Sure, they sell game cards for $1 or $5 that give you a certain amount of points, but those will be used ::SNAP:: just like that. And that’d be goofy…going in, dropping $5, playing 2 games, and then leaving. What’s the point in that?

Well, it had been about a half hour of us standing around with our thumbs up our butts saying, “So, waddya wanna do?” Finally, the suggestion was made to go back over to Cincinnati to a sort of upscale neighborhood bar (far away from downtown) to hear a fellow parent from school sing. Every Saturday, he plays guitar and sings at this neighborhood bar. So we went. My wife and I got Cokes and the other couple we were with got beers and we just sat, chit-chatted about nothing in particular and listened to this guy sing. We stayed for about an hour and then left.

I’m glad we got to go out kid-free and spend time with our friends without having to worry about getting back at a certain time, even though we ended up back home by 10:30. I’m fairly certain that the couple we were with thought that we were the most boring people on the planet. But oh well. Had we done more than we did, it would have cost us well over $100. I simply don’t understand where people get the kind of disposable income it takes to got out to places like that and do those things. As it is, we ended up spending about $65, which, believe you me, is a bit more than we were really able to spend.

2006-10-26T10:14:00.000-04:00

So, a few days ago Rush Limbaugh made a comment about a political spot that Michael J. Fox did for Missouri Senate Candidate Claire McCaskill (D). In this political ad, which you can view by clicking here, good ol’ MJF is exhibiting his symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease…shaking and moving all around while talking about stem cell research and its importance to those afflicted with Parkinson’s.

Rush didn’t agree with the ad. He thought it was exploitive and even made the following comment: "He's either off his medication or acting. He is an actor after all." He also stated that he felt as though MJF was “exaggerating the effects of the disease.” That got everyone up in arms and it’s been a big to-do in all of the news publications, shows, Interweb sites, gossip over backyard fences, etc etc.

Rush has since apoligized, stating, "I will bigly, hugely admit that I was wrong."

That’s all well and good, but I think that people are missing the REAL story here.

You see, at the end of the political advert, MJF says, "What you do in Missouri matters to millions of Americans. Americans like me." The last time I looked, MJF is Canadian.

2006-10-23T16:05:00.000-04:00

One of the comments on my Monday October 16 post read thusly:

Cousin of Guy said...
In regards to your comment:"I simply don’t understand why people are inclined to stick something up on the school website that recounts fond memories of the times that were shared 20 years ago."

Aren't you doing the very thing that you say people shouldn't do? Like you said-- "That kind of thing should be for people who really knew this guy…his parents, wife, family, and friends of his".

YOU really can't talk smack against those that choose to remember Bear the way he "was 20 years ago" when you're doing the same thing.

Since I did not recount a fond memory of times shared 20 years ago, I’m not sure what was meant by saying that I’m doing the very thing that I say people shouldn’t do. I never said they shouldn’t. I said I don’t understand why they’re inclined to.

As for me “talking smack against those who choose to remember” him, I can see how Mr. Cousin may have interpreted the post that way. Rereading other comments about the post, it appears that others regarded it that way as well. It was supposed to be a post about the “human condition,” and not an attack on anybody. Since the message that was received is not necessarily the message that I intended, it’s clear that I did not explain myself very well. I will try again, and it may be easier as I’ve had a similar situation come up since the initial posting.

My intended point was that, beyond the “Hey, I went to High School with that guy!” I’m not that impacted by his death. And I don’t understand how people, who haven’t seen him in 20 years, can talk about being stunned and saddened. They obviously are, I just don’t know why. Last week, I heard that Chris Motz (a good friend of mine in 3rd grade) died. I don’t feel stunned or saddened. Nor does that news make me more prone than usual to quietly reflect on the good times we had on the monkey bars and in the lunchroom. And why should it? Too much time has passed for me to be impacted by that news. My absence of grief doesn’t mean that I’m happy. It just means there’s no grief.

2006-10-20T16:19:00.000-04:00

Apparantly, Blogger’s The Thinker has tagged me so now will be filling out the Give Me Five thing. So, sit back and relax, extinguish all smoking materials, set you cell phones to silent, buckle your seatbelt, return your trays to their upright position, and please…remain standing until the ride has come to a complete stop.

Five Things I Would Do If I Were A Millionaire:
Invest some of it
Put some of it into a 5 year CD
Put a large down payment on a house so that my house payment is only like $30 a month
Buy a new car
Open a bookstore and call it Pages.

Five Bad Habits:
Procrastination
Not giving 100% effort
Bite fingernails
Don’t floss
I interrupt people alot during conversations.

Five Things I Hate Doing:
Mowing the lawn
Waking up in the morning
Dealing with salespeople
Running errands for other people
Cleaning the toilet

Five Things I Would Never Do:
I would never murder the Canadian Prime Minister
I would never eat Blood Pudding
I would never not file my taxes
I would never impersonate a federal agent
And I will never, ever like Antonio Banderas

Five Things I Regret Doing:
Not going to the dentist.
Drinking a kitchen sink full of water.
Giving up on my Spider-Man comic book collection
Not following through on my Learn To Draw initiative
Not staying in contact with my best friend from high school

Five Favorite Things:
My wife
My 1st kid
My 2nd kid
My 3rd kid
Cheese Ravioli

Five People I Choose To Do This:
I won’t be forwarding this on, cuz I don’t know anyone who would do it.

A dibby dib dibbity dibby dibbity dib uhhhhhh that's all folks!