Good Dad?

Odd week.

Odd last few weeks really. I've started working in the paid world again. This shakes things up a bit, yes, but it is a good thing. The extra money is nice, but the self-confidence is better.
I can do most my work from home and when I *do* go to the location, I can be back before the kids get back.

My son has a friend who has asked to get off the bus at our house and play. After some investigating, it all became clear...
My son's friend is having a difficult time. His birth-mother is in prison (in a different state) for prostitution.
His father had remarried, and they had another son, yet now they are divorced. His Step-mom is also his den leader for our cub-scout troop (of which I am a committee member/leader as well). Well, the step-mom no longer lives in the house as dad has a girl-friend, she is in an apartment. And she has possession (or at least join-custody) of the younger sibling.
...I think that brings you up to speed.
So - the reason for my bringing this up>

This young boy (He's 9 or 10, I cannot remember), spent the summer in a different state, with his grand-parents.

And as just mentioned, the dad and the new girl-friend each have jobs, with the girl-friend finishing her work day earlier, she is able to arrive at the house between 5:30 - 6:00 PM.
Why would this be a problem? He gets off the bus at 3:30 PM I know it is not a horrific situation, with poverty stricken gang-bangers around, but I see the situation preventable.

Thursday he asked to spend the night, as the dad was at work until 10PM and the girl-friend was going out with girlfriends. I had to explained it to him that this weekend wasn't possible as our family would not be around = we would be leaving to visit relatives for the weekend. Today (Friday) he all but begged me to take him with us.
His step-mom (or should I say former step-mom?) picked him up. Apparently she had a date and was willing to cancel/modify her plans.

Why do I go on about this? In retrospect, I think we could have taken him with us...

I'm not the clever & cool dad that Heathcliff Huxtable was, but then again, I'm not Al Bundy either.

I guess we just do as we do, according to our gifts. Maybe my job *is* to save the Earth, not in a dashing, romantic way, but rather to save the earth, one child at a time.

Here endith the (moderately narcissistic) pontification...

Too much time on my hands

Howdy -

The title of this blog is a complete bald-faced lie.
In the last few months, there has been multiple surgeries in the family, work trauma's, neighbor issues and I knocked down a power/utility pole.
Fun game.

So, I've decided to start a new venture and go into business on my own. I am making cribbage boards, starting a blues-band and...(dramatic pause)...teaching myself how to write a PhoneApp.

So, lets start with he PhoneApp (This will be a good exercise in documentation for me!)

I've begun by downloaded the utility from WEBAPP-NET.COM =
Based on the recommendation of someone else, I have now Downloaded and installed and am running the Chrome Browser (from Google) as well as HTML-Kit (free version).

The test flight is a success; the screens/menu's slide back and forth~! I looked at the code and I am seriously dumbfounded at how easy this is~!

I followed the directions and there is an error: a line of code showing the path to a css file is displaying on the top. (hopefully that will be fixed next blog)

And, as I realize that I can make these little screens and menu items, it occurs to me that I have no idea how the user would enter data. (At this point I am going to presume this is either buried deep inside or in a completely unrelated tutorial).
I also realize that I need to come up with a way in which the user can store/include more than one character (or charge $2.50 for the app and #0.10 cents per character)
My plan is to actually design how I want the app to look and hope I can stumble across the information needed. (Putting in graphics isn't hard, but I don't know if I'd be making a "text-box" etc... )

The mind races faster than I can type, so adieu for now...

...Here Endith The bog...

Would really love a hot shower...

Wednesday, I had GOLF, and get home to discover that the basement has a minor flood. It took a while to discover the leak was coming from the bottom of the water heater, and even longer to clean it up to a satisfactory point.
Thursday, was spent shopping around looking for a good price on a water heater. Finally, in the afternoon - one was discovered at LOWES for $340.00.
The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to locate someone to install it for under $300.
When the individuals came out Friday morning, it was discovered that, the water heater was the wrong type. What we have is a gas 48" Power Vented water heater. What I purchased was a 58" gas water heater. After discussing at length with the servicemen the proper water heater needed, I began to look.
And look and look.
I was unable to locate a 48" Power Vented hot water heater (in fact, LOWES doesn't even carry them). HOME DEPOT and MENARDS had the taller ones (58"-59"), and MENARDS even had them on sale (and one that was considered an 'open box'). But alas, it was Friday afternoon and were were bound for Wisconsin.
Eventually, a rep from SEARS informed me that retail does not sell 48" Power Vented water heaters. Well, the person that modified this place was a contractor (and from what I am discovering... a cut-rate one too. The only water supply we have is the garden hose and the cold water from the kitchen sink) which is how the 48" came to be installed. So now, we have the decision to make....Get a non-power vented water heater and re-do the duct work, or get a power-vented water heater and re-do the piping. Since there is no time with the schedule at that moment to review and test any decision, off we went ti WIS, with the issue unresolved.
While in WIS, the Memorial weekend was more of a chore-based visit. The major task at had was the dock. A few years back, the ice had shoved the dock under the steps, and now, due to the lack of rain, the end of the dock was in water too shallow for the pontoon to rest at its usual spot. So, the dock was extracted from under the stairs and moved forward about 8'.
Now...to get reach the dock, you need to jump approximately 24" onto the sandy/rocky slope. Not good for the 3 senior citizens up there.
So, a 4-step riser (three pieces; for Left, Right & Middle) were obtained and mounted, followed by the planks to extend the walking surface to the ground.
Next came the railing, and finally leveling them. (Well, they were made closer to level. I wouldn't call them 'plumb').

We arrive home Monday night after 10PM...kids asleep. We got the kids put into bed, the car emptied, and some of the items put away. Then my wife goes to bed and I research water heaters. I see HOME DEPOT is offering a sale on appliances (although hot water heaters are pictured, the sales rep & LOWES told me that water heaters are not considered "appliances" when it comes to the 'free installation'), I am not sure about MENARDS because their advertisement doesn't 'come out' until tomorrow (Tuesday JUNE 1st).
At HOME DEPOT.COM, I price a Power Vented water heater on-line and in referring to my notes from last Thursday = it is the same price. Hmmmm..... I reckon tomorrow might give me a better idea.

So, just before I go to bed, I decide to measure the height from floor-to-ceiling. Should we go with the 58" power-vented model, I want to know if we have enough room.

Naturally when I get down there, I am disagreeably surprised to discover a mild flood.
Again.

(sigh)

It is now 12:15 AM on Tuesday, June 1st. I've used the dirt-devil to vacuum up most of the water out of the carpet. I also have the dehumidifier running and the box fan on. I've checked the MENARDS add, and there is no water heater sale. I've made the measurements I need. My plan is simple, take some Ibuprofen, floss m teeth and hope tomorrow will deliver unto me the answers I need.

Here endith the blog...

AAADD = Know the symptoms!

I was recently diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. = Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.

And I happen to know some other folks that have this as well. Due to the sensitive nature of this disorder, I won’t mention any names. However, in order for you to realize that you have it, here are the clues as to how it manifests itself:

In the morning, I return from bringing my daughter to school, and see that the lawnmower and can of gas are still sitting in the driveway from when I mowed the lawn last night. As I put them away into the shed, I notice that I had also left the door to the shed wide open last night. Putting the lawnmower and gas can away, I see the flag down on the mailbox and I realize that I didn’t get yesterday’s mail. So I head down to the end of the driveway, and see that I need to water my lilies. I grab the mail, bring it up to the house, drop it on the front steps and turn on the hose. I then remember I wanted to wash the car yesterday, and so as I head back to the garage, I notice the mail on the front steps, and decide to go through the mail first before I wash the car.

Walking inside, I put my car keys on the breezeway secretary, drop the mail on the kitchen table, and see several notices for collections. I may as well pay the bills, so I walk over to the wall organizer next to the phone and grab the cheque-book. I return to the kitchen table, sit down and as I open it up, I notice that there is only one cheque left. The extra cheques are in the desk below the phone. So I get up, and as I pass the kitchen island, I find (for the 3rd time) the cup of coffee I'd been drinking .

I grab my coffee along the way and discover that it is cold. I can drink cold coffee, but feel I need a new, fresh cup. Next to the coffee maker is a vase of flowers on the kitchen counter that I was going to water. I turn around, put the cold cup of coffee on the island, and see my notebook computer on the kitchen table, with a blinking message. As I head over to see who is trying to contact me, I discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning next to the computer. I know I need to put them back in their case, and put the case back up on the counter top, so the kids don't get to them.

As I reach for the case for my glasses on the other side of the table, I spot the remote control for the TV; someone had left it on the living room floor last night.

Tonight, when it is time to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote where it belongs, next to the TV (I won't remember that it's on the living room floor). So I decide to put it back where it belongs, but I suddenly realize I have my glasses in one hand, and their case in the other. I put them in their case, and as I bring them to the kitchen counter, I see the flowers need watering.

As I pour water in the flowers, and remember that the hose is still running outside. Distracted my this thought, I spill some water.

I set the glass I was using to pour water in the vase in the sink, grab the vase, place it on the kitchen table, then get some paper towels to wipe up the spill.

As I wipe up the spill, I hear that the hose outside is still running. I leave the paper towels to soak up the water and as I head towards the door, I see my coffee cup on the edge of the counter.

At that point, the buzzer goes off on the dryer and I head downstairs towards the laundry room.

Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, I stand there wondering what I came down here for.

At the end of the day:

-The car isn't washed,
-The hose is still running,
-The bills aren't paid,
-There is a cold cup of coffee sitting on the kitchen counter,
-The garden didn’t get watered,
-There is still only 1 cheque in my cheque book,
-I can't find the remote,
-There is a pile of paper towels on the kitchen counter near the coffee pot,
-I can't find my glasses,
-And I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then, when asked what I did today, I'm completely baffled. I *know* I was busy but can’t think of what I’ve done, nor do I have anything to show for it~!

I realize this is a serious problem, and so I figure it is best to document what seems to be happening and maybe see of there is away to get some help for this. But first I'll check my e-mail. As I answer/reply/delete the emails, I realize I’m squinting, and need my reading glasses. As I get up to retrieve them, I see my coffee cup is still sitting on the kitchen counter…

Well, here we are.
At least I think so...
Spent the weekend cleaning the garage, and cleaning the garage, followed by some vacuuming in the house and then cleaning the garage. Today (Monday) I cleaned the garage some more. Also went to LINDERS to ask about our Apple tree and get some ideas for containing our tomatoes this year. Our Apple tree has been ravaged by rabbits during the winter! (Grrr...). They chewed the hell out of the bark - not too deeply, and not a single section was gnawed all the way around, so he said let it go. We told him it was starting to bud and he said that come the end of June, we will know if the tree will survive or not. If it does, obviously it will blossom and we might get apples out of it. If not, I will address the rabbits in the vicinity with a Spanish accent and say "Allo...you killed my Apple Tree. Prepare to die."
Woodworking was on the brain this weekend as well. I broke out the scroll saw, drill press, chop-saw and table saw. Broke one scroll blade, bent another but I made a go of it and got things going. What things? Well...I volunteered to carve out 30 Push-Ducks.
...here is an image of some...
for a Boy Scout event coming up May 1st. I have not weighted the power tools but what I can tell you is that carrying a Drill Press half a dozen times can be felt (I did have a protein drink when it was all over)
We have a full-sized refrigerator in the garage as well. I shifted it a few times, then as I was going to move it from one side of the garage to the other - I realized that it would be easier of I emptied it. So, I cleaned off my woodworking table (used to be a conference table at Atari) of the Drill Press, Scroll Saw, etc...and emptied the fridge of its contents on the table, and moved the fridge form one part of the garage to the other, realized it wouldn't fit, moved more things out of the way, then got the fridge in place.
Didn't like it there so I moved it back. As I opened it, I noticed it was disgustingly dirty. (Stuff solidified to the freezer, cans of Canada Dr had exploded, etc).
So - that got cleaned out.
I also noticed a 12-pack of Coke dated 2008 & a 12-pack of Dew dated 2007. Yea...they were thrown out~!
After the freezer was scrubbed and the fridge washed out, I washed the trim and wiped down the outside. I put it back close to where it was, adjusted it a bit, loaded it back up and called it good. (Noting the work I have been achieving, my wife commented on how nice it was to be married to someone who is manic. Thanx dear...).

There was more moving and sorting and gutter-cleaning. All in all, a good day's worth of work~! When done, I make myself a protein drink then showered. Toweling off, I still felt vigorous; had that 'energetic spark of life' even as I got dressed. Then, once dressed, I grabbed the brush to comb my hair and the mirror showed the light gray T-shirt matched my mustache.
To say the youthful energy came to a screeching halt wouldn't give it justice. I think what happened is the youthful energy caught a glimpse of the old-man frame it was residing in, and in one Jackie-Chan like reflex...it was gone.

So, I wrap this blog up tonight, a bit achy and listening to my neighbor's band butcher some song I cannot identify, I recalled watching "Dancing With The Stars" as I began this blog. And my I say that the costume director for the show must have recently watched the Star Trek episode: "The Gamesters of Triskelion" and designed a modified version of Shahna's outfit for Edyta.

...here endith the blog...

A musical cycle

I've gone on several rants about the psychotic neighbor behind me. Now, I would like to take the time to let you in on another neighbor.
Larry is a great guy, very social and down to earth. We help each other out from time to time, and I'm not sure what it is, but there seems to be something a bit quirky about him (although, based on his activities, I think the quirkiness is me. He is the one that goes fishing, hunting, owns a truck, etc...)
His band has gone through the evolutionary process twice now...
a- A group of them get together and begin to butcher songs,
b- After a while, I can begin to recognize certain sections,
c- Then I begin to understand what songs they are attempting to play
d- Then they begin to solidify and actually sound like a bar-band.
e- Then something happens...I don't hear anything for a few weeks. During one of our chats, I discover that the bassist and lead had a falling out.
f- Then, the cars appear in his yard again, half I do not recognize, as they begin to butcher songs...

He reached phase 'd' again about 2 weeks ago. I've been gone for the lats 9 days, and wonder of he's going proceed on a different course, of if they have reached 'e'.

I reckon I'll find out soon enough.

...here endith the blog...

Hallmark Holiday?

As I'm resting from hiding Easter-Eggs (the plastic two-piece kind that you stash candy in) I've decided to compensate for the sugar-high by finishing off a bottle of red wine (yellow tail; cab-merlot mix). I reflect on the week...
Taking care of my recovering (from surgery) parents, with my young children has given me a new outlook. I'm sure that some shrink has a name for it but the best I can state ff the cuff is a "Charlie Harper-meets-the reflection of Heinlein, with the cynicism of Beethoven, and a smattering of Pedro Cerrano (from Major League II) thrown in".

...does that make sense...?

ANYway, I have realized that I lost my train of thought (it must of taken a corner and outrun me...) Many a wonderful things have happened this week. Milestones of great personal importance that were unknown to me until recently were passed.

I can sum it up by saying that my kids have become fans of some of the older classic cartons. Recently, they have been laughing to PINK PANTHER and at one point, my son turned to me and said;
"Dad, The Inspector Rocks!"

...here endith the blog.

Infinate signs that you're getting old

I don't know who "they" are. Nor do I know who "They" think they are. Like POS predictors that modify the gas-prices, I've heard throughout most my life "They say that..."
They?
Hmmm...
They who? and they what?
They say that feeling old is a state of mind.
They say that the older you get, the less sleep you need.
They say, blah-blah-blah.

Well, some of it make sense - like the 'feeling old is a state of mind'. However, your state of mind can also be affected by your age, physical condition, your past (and whatever 'they' say)

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting up in bed, struggling to wake up so I could face the day and get the kids ready for school. My 5 year old daughter peeks her head around the corner of the door as I sat there, and as soon as she saw that I was upright, she bounded cheerily into the room, and threw herself up onto the bed (my wife was already downstairs, about to leave for work).
"Hi Daddy!" she cheerily exclaimed in the way that only a 5 year old can so early in the morning. As I write this, I recall that I used to be a 'morning person'. I grunted a response.
"Can you come downstairs please?"
I slowly inhaled, as I wanted to be sure that I could speak the words needed with out any undue stress upon my system and cause a blackout. My voice sounded as weak as someone who had been awake for two days.
"Yea..." I sighed out.
"Okay, Daddy," she said in a most satisfied manner. She then slid off the bed and said "I'll just show myself out." and she skipped out the bedroom door.
- Where did she learn *that* phrase??

Along with other folks with serious injuries or arthritis, I can tell what the barometer is doing. That day was a rainy-stormy day, and fatigued and achy is how I felt all day. So I got my hair cut, thinking it would lighten the mood - evidence that she culled the dark hairs, letting the white hairs become more prominent.
What do you call that color? Gray? Charcoal? Black-n-Silver? Ash? Refined Graphite? Depressing? Dye-Time? Salt and pepper (Emphasis on the salt)?

And I also recall having "Senior Moments". We lost the phone last week. My wife eventually located it: She informed me that I placed the phone in the cupboard. (Where we store the dishes).

Like everyone else, I'm discovering that my priorities have changed. In the past, something could have made my jump out of my seat and leap over to the scene with more fluidity and grace than an Olympic gymnast. But now, I swivel my head around, watch for a moment or two, bespeak something along the lines of "Huh." then draw my attention away.

And there is more...much more. Perspective, physical deformations, opinions of beauty and lust, but I'm going to close the blog for the day. I'm tired (most parents are). It's Sunday AM, the day my wife and I try to sleep in. However, our 9yr old son had other plans. Before 7AM my 9yr old son stood in our bedroom, leaning back-and-forth making the floor creak until I woke up.
...and now I hear the 5yr old coming downstairs...

Today we head out to some friends of ours with 3 kids. Younger than I by 6 years or so, they also have a teenager. (I can't wait to talk about the gray in his beard).

And so, with a final adieu for the day, I give you a cartoon displaying age...




...Here Endith The Blog...

Ooops in the Kitchen

There are times when you make a mistake and its bad. Sometimes its funny the moment it happens, sometimes it is funny later on. And other times...it is never funny. Ever.
Fortunately, the small incident that I am going to relate unto you was not a mistake, it was an accident. (There *is* a difference...) Often I have joked to my family about how I could should host my own TV Cooking show. Naturally, a child is rather easy to impress, but I have also impressed adults with my brilliant hand-and-eye coordination and displays confidence in the kitchen.
But occasionally, an error occurs. Did mention that these happen all over, and come in various packages...big, small, disastrous, hilarious. Many years ago, when I was still a lad in school, the father of one of my friends passed onto me a quote he had made up: "The severity of your mistake is directionally proportionate to the amount of people watching."
Only one of my children saw this little incident...so it couldn't have been bad.
I have been a trainer/instructor in *every* job I've held, and as such; I can generally explain things in a simple and easy fashion as I do them. So, I enjoy explaining things for the 'cooking show' whether I am making a white-cheese garlic pasta sauce from scratch or providing 'kid-food' via a box of Mac-n-Cheese. Example =
Why do you cut the butter into small pieces?
- So it will melt faster.
Why do you rip the box seam on the top, instead of using the [Press Here] area on the side.
- Because the 'press here' area doesn't work (next time I made the dish for them, I showed them the perforation lines and demonstrated what happens - when I press, the upper corner of the box caves in...it doesn't 'separate & open'.
What are you doing with the bag?
- I call it "flapping". I hold on to the edge I'm going to open the bag form, then flap it back and forth to send all the mix to the bottom of the bag, making it easier and cleaner to open and pour in.
etc...etc...

So this skill translates well to my ability to either explain what I am doing as a free-flowing process, or holding a conversations with someone while I prepare a meal. Two day's ago, I was holding a conversation with my son. He wanted Mac-n-Cheese, so the water was approaching a boil, the butter & milk were on the counter, and I was 'flapping' the sauce-mix bag. Suddenly, I heard a tearing sound and I was no longer holding on to the bag. Standing next to the stove-top with a shocked and bemused look on my face, I tried to track its trajectory as it made an arc from my hand to bounce off the clear insulation-film on the window above the sink, then ricochet off the Wustoff block of knives and landed on the counter. (Fortunately, it landed heavy side down - open side up~!)
I did not marvel at my fortune for long - it immediately became clear that a diminutive nuclear fallout was in process. Tiny orange granules were cascading down on me, the coffee pot, the sink, the counter, microwave, and the small rug we have on the floor in-front of the sink.

Cleaning up wasn't difficult...just time consuming. All in all, it a moderatley successful Sunday.

...here endith the blog...

The Earth as a Philosophers Stone

Tonight at snack-time the conversation became geologically technical.
My 9yr-old boy (9 years old...Oh my = is he a "tween' now...?) decided to inform his 5 year old sister about the Earth.
He used such phrases as -
"You would think," and "But in reality,"
Pretty impressive in their own right.
But for those of you with children, you know that the rest of it was skewed.
Right? Right~!
He related a tale of how the Earths crust is where the grass grows, the Mantle; a subterranean mass of hot molten lava, and the core? That is obviously a sphere of solid metal. He went on to inform her that the core is composed of iron, nickel and other minerals.
Naturally, she asked if pennies and quarters came from Earth's crust too.
"Not the coins themselves," he informed her, "just the minerals they are made of."
"Gosh!" she said, dutifully impressed.
"Yea, wouldn't it be great," I could tell he was on roll now; he was in the spotlight (with his audience of one), "if the minerals of nickels and other money rotated up through the magma, and we made it into coins?"
At this point I probably should have made a correction or two, but they were so involved and so animated, I didn't think it right to stop them. Shortly, they had basically described the precipitation process (how water evaporates, becomes clouds, rains, evaporates, etc), only using minerals that form coins. Nothing else...just coins.

Actually, I was very impressed with their imagination. It was...rather hypnotic, and as Leonardo DaVinci was credited for saying "The Earth supplies us with everything we need at the price of labor."

...here endith the blog...

This morning the kids were playing with lego's, then started to draw one huge action scene on a large sheet of paper. They've come a long way in their Star Wars terminology. General Grevious is not a sad army-man. At one time, I did try to explain the concept of a cybernetic organism to them but that got lost on them. I did a better job explaining Godzilla. (see my Feb 5th post "Sorry I was late.")

I let the kids watch and play the LEGO STAR WARS game for the wii before they saw any of the movies. I didn't realize what kind of a skewed influence they would have had going from the 2nd medium, to the original. I should have known...With the fake interactivity TV broadcasts to children (characters on-screen prompt the child to say their name, guess what letter comes after G, etc), she believes that the TV tube truly is an interactive experience, and she will literally run into another room shrieking when something scares her. (I wonder if this will carry on into her adult life. Will she be talking to the movie screen? Or yelling to characters on stage?!)

Since my son had already seen the movies, I was comfortable with her watching them on her own with out him getting jealous. Naturally, we started watching the movies in order of their release (not in order of story-line).

If I may point out a few of the highlights;
She cheered when she first saw R2D2 (R2D2 is her favorite character).

"Yay! Its 'Stormy Stormtrooper'!" ("Stormy" is the name of her Lego Stormtrooper.)

"Oh-oh, remember," she yelled with great urgency at the characters on the TV, "Shoot them twice, and their hearts will pop-out!"

Then she asks me....
"Dad, is that a good Stormtrooper?"
- No.
"How about that one?"
- No.
"That one?"
- No.
"Which one is?"
- None.
"Why?"
- Because they work for Darth Vader.
"Why?"
- Because he's a bad-Jedi and he's their boss.
"Why is he bad?"
...that conversation was reminiscent of my Feb 5th post "Sorry I was late.".

When Ben and Luke arrive at the Cantina at Mos Eisley=
"Dad, look! Its the bonus room!"

"Dad, why can't Luke do the Jedi-Super-Slam?"
- Because in the hierarchy of Jedi Knights, Luke is a wuss.

And then we watched Empire Strikes Back.
I'm not going to go into that sordid mess...I have an unopened bottle of Merlot calling me...

So here endith the Blog...

Since the flu bug is over...

Well...my daughter has fully recovered from the stomach flu. I was awake for 41+ hours. Not a record - not by a long shot...but still. For us older parents, I was a little crabby over the next few days.
Naturally...my wife picked up a variant of the strain. Where as the baby girl had an extremely volatile version that lasted a few days, the variant my wife picked up wasn't exceptionally violent or robust...however, it has lasted over a week so far!
No body likes to get sick, but what really irritated her was the fact that she had gotten sick a day before our son was scheduled for surgery...

The surgery had been scheduled for 3:30PM, with the Pre-Op check-in at 2:00 PM. The phone call I got the morning of, requesting if we could arrive 30 minutes early as it appeared the Dr. is running ahead of schedule was pleasing! Naturally I agreed.
So, at 12-noon I pulled him from school and away we drove to the hospital.
Having been a visitor to hospitals in the past, I knew enough to grab the back-pack and stuff a couple books and my computer notebook in it. Once we arrived and found a parking spot (at the top level of the ramp), I strapped on the heavy backpack, and we made our pilgrimage to the admitting/registration desk.

We were not the first in line once we arrived naturally, there was an older couple at the front of the line, standing a few feet behind them was a man, who appeared to be in his mid 30's and immediately behind him was a woman, in her upper 20's, then us. As we waited, a woman who appeared to have lived over 40 hard years, showed up as an elderly gentleman with a couple packages got into line behind her.
The elderly couple at the front of the line continued to work with the receptionist as my son and I waited. Of course, standing in line and being polite for 30 seconds was too much for the woman behind us. She pulled out her got and began loudly talking. I noticed the elderly couple were getting visitor badges. To acquire a badge constitutes a procedure of the individual taking a couple steps back to a blue star on the floor which was just beyond the edge of the rug. Then the web-cam housed in a metal container (bolted to the desk to prevent anyone from stealing it?), takes their picture, then the individual moves up, gets their badge. The elderly couple were then given directions on where they needed to be, they smiled and sincerely thanked the woman at the desk before merrily going on their way.

And as the woman behind me prattled loudly on her cell phone, oblivious to the world around her, the man next in line stepped up to the desk; the rest of us politely remaining off the rug, giving the individual a three foot space for privacy as well room should he need to get his picture taken for a badge.

Once he was finished, he went on his way and the woman next in line stepped up, my son and I took one step forward, maintaining our position off the rug as the woman on her cell phone kept on speaking as though her words were addressing the G7 summit. As she pontificated, she refused to remain still, and it sounded as thought she was literally one foot from my ear on occasions. I would turn towards her yet incline/lean my head and upper body away to let her know that she was being overly close.

Then it was our turn. My son and I stepped up to the desk - and so did the woman behind us. I had to ask the employee behind the desk to repeat herself more than once because the woman behind me on her cell phone continued to project her words as though she was on stage. I actually had to turn away from the desk, looked at the woman on the phone, say "Excuse me," then indicated the edge of the rug three feet back then glanced back at her before I once again turned my attention to the employee at the desk.
The woman's lips never broke stride as she looked at me with the combination of annoyance and disdain that you would give an insect. She obviously didn't understand what I was suggesting - she was too caught up in her own little soap opera, attempting to vocally overpower everyone in the huge lobby with her pontification (As I write this out, I wonder if there really was someone on the other end. Perhaps she was undertaking an experiment of rudeness?)
Then, the hospital employee behind the desk asked if I had a visitation badge, and when I replied that I did not, she stated those magic words:
"Well, lets take one. Please step back to the blue star at the edge of the rug."

I stepped backwards in a manner that did not hide any determination. What I had expected to happen, did. The woman was still blathering on her cell phone, oblivious to what was going on...I had bumped into her. I stopped, looked at where my backpack hit her, then at her with a gaze of irritated disappointment.
With an off-hand manner, she somehow manged to slide an "Excuse me," at my direction without interrupting her dribble.
I scowled slightly at her before taking my position on the blue star for my badge.
As I went back to the desk, I noticed that the woman didn't follow me and that her voice wasn't quite as loud as it had been (she was probably telling her lonely friend on the other line how rude I was).

I suspect that she is the type of individual that would compose a movie review via texting while driving on the freeway during rush hour.

...here endith the blog...

29 hours and still no sleep....

Well, my 5-year old daughter contracted her first case of Stomach Flu yesterday evening. She had been complaining about a headache off and on, but alas, we thought it was the ravings of a young child that didn't t want to ear her peas. (Naturally, I myself am taking amoxicillin for a sinus infection.)
The severity of her condition became apparent about 15 minutes after we put her to bed. I was playing Guild Wars upstairs and my wife had just turned on The Olympics (downstairs).
My headset is broken and I get a lot of static through the line with the normal sounds, so I don't bother with it anymore. This is why I readily heard her. I arose form my chair, and got to the bathroom to see her spitting into the sink. Not thinking it was anything very serious, I "shushed" her, told her it was "alright" and pulled her hair back, so she didn't spit in it. She took a step back and off to the side and then I noticed her dinner was in the sink, on the vanity and floor of the bathroom.
And carpet of the hallway.
And her room.
And her pajama's.
I informed her, "Just sit there, honey," referring to the stool (lid was closed), and the three strides to the loft and, seeing my wife through the railing sitting at the kitchen table watching the TV, I said, "A little help here please." then went back to console the girl who was was not feeling so good.
My wife arrived very promptly (I've asked for help maybe twice before) and pointed, as I told her, "She's throwing up. It's here (sink), here(indicating the front of the vanity and the *huge* mass on the bathroom floor), there(a section of the hallway carpet) and there (her bedroom carpet)."
"Is it on her bed?"
"I don't know," I replied, "I didn't get that far yet." I turned as my attention turned to our youngest offspring.
"Yup," my wife called, "She - oh my, did she ever."
I turned my attention away from my daughter and went into her bedroom, and sure enough, she had dumped a great deal on her bed as well. I then informed my wife that it is all over her PJ's as well, and asked "Well, how do you want to handle it? What do you want to do?"
My wife looked into the bathroom from the hallway, assessed the situation and said "How about I give her a bath and clean her up?"
"Okay," was my reply. And as I set to work to clean what I believed was approximately 5.7 liters of partially digested Spaghetti and Meatballs with red-sauce, and a Caesar Salad over two rooms and a hallway, my daughter realized she had thrown up all over the nightgown that Grandma made for her, and as my wife escorted her to the downstairs bathroom, I could her my daughter reach the level of stressful distress.

I won't go into detail regarding the cleaning of this. I will just make some bullet points of observations -
** Use the rubbish can! (I plugged up the bathroom sink).
** Know your gag-level (As I scooped everything up, using only toilet paper, (no gloves), I realized why my wife made the decision she made)
** Reexamine the carpeted areas!! Knowing where you pretreated the stains isn't enough. (I had sprayed/pretreated the areas on the carpet, letting it soak as I mopped the bathroom. Then, as I was using the Dirt-Devil, scrubbing my way from the bathroom to the bedroom, my left hand found a spot on the carpet I had missed.
Twice.) :^(
** Follow your instincts regarding Risk management and make the coffee right away (I was living in denial, thinking she would eventually fall asleep by Midnight or 1 AM, I with held the coffee until then.)
** Don't be stingy on the Febreeze (We covered this...I even put a scented packet in her humidifier)
** Do the laundry immediately, do *not* let it soak (She ended up messing the bed again at about 4AM. Luckily, my wife had the sheets and protective spread already washed and in the dryer~!)
** Get the nap the next day while you can!! (Don't sit at the computer, writing out this incident for your blog as she is napping with your aching back, burning eyes and throbbing headache!)

...On that note, I will attempt to take my own advice and lay down now.

..here endith the blog...

Viagra by any other name....

Obviously, I didn't post yesterday. I've been sick the last couple days and yesterday I didn't have the drive or desire to post.
Today has been an up-and-down sort of day, but I'll pass on the details and simply reiterate an event that happened a few years prior.

A few years ago my parents were over and as my father was reading the newspaper, he suddenly called my mother by name and announced loudly that he needs "Viagra."
"What?" came my mothers confused reply.
With out his hearing aids in, my father will occasionally speak at about 80 Db (not quite as loud as his chop-saw, but easily enough to drown out the TV, the neighbor's lawnmower and any doubt as to what he is saying.)
"Viagra." he announced, "that's what I need."
My mother glanced at me from her chair with a puzzled look on her face, as if she had heard incorrectly, and perhaps I knew what this was about. Obviously, the blank expression on my face was no help, because she turned her attention back to my dad who had placed his nose back in the newspaper. As for me personally, I confess that I didn't know how I felt about this. I also didn't know what I was feeling at the time (other than confusion). Were my parents going to talk about s-e-x. With me right there? Granted, I was in my 40's at the time, but still...there are just some things you just don't feel comfortable talking to your parents about (jail time fits into that category as well).

Well, to ensure that she had his attention, my mom addressed him by name (else he would have kept on reading the paper) and said "What? You need what?"

"Viagra," was the reply. He was louder now, and like the rest of us American's, when someone doesn't understand us; we talk louder. We repeat what what we are saying, only louder. Often we will go to great lengths to explain things differently, speaking slower, with more enunciation, and more volume. "that's what I need. It's the only thing that worked for me, and that's what I want. We need to get me back on that." He was definitely on the volume track(one day I'll relate how he competes with the TV).

Again, my mother looked at me with a quizzical expression. It was obvious that neither of us knew where this was going to end. I was certainly willing to let if go. I'm sure that whatever my dad was talking about, there was a good chance that he'd forget the words he used now when he next discussed what ever it is he was discussing with my mom later on.

"Viagra." he said, setting his newspaper down. He was obviously getting agitated now. "It's the only damn thing that works for my arthritis, my joints are killing me and we need to get me some."

pause...pause...pause...

"Do you mean Vioxx?" my mother prompted.

"Yea," he said, obviously please that she had finally caught on, "We need to get me started on that again."

I was content with the outcome of this conversation. I recalled that once in my 20's I was actually yelling at a couple of friends of mine, trying to get them to understand that "I THINK I HAVE A CALORIE!!" I eventually resorted to pulling my lower lip with one hand then making a dramatic pointing gesture with the other towards my teeth.
"You mean a cavity?" One of them calmly replied.
At that moment, had I been a cartoon-character, I would have developed floppy ears and bayed like a donkey.

My mother isn't one to let things go..."That's not what you said." she informed him.
"It's not?"
"No."
"Oh." There was a pause, then he asked "What did I say?"
"You said Viagra." came her response in a manner that made no attempt to hide her enjoyment.
My dad looked at me for confirmation. With a sad smile, I nodded.

I saw his shoulders slump, and a comical expression on his face as he shook his head and looked down.


... Here endith the blog

Boys are Dumb...

The "boys are Dumb" statement originated from my wife. And although it is an unkind statement, it is certainly true in the way I reflect upon it.

One summer day, (might have been in 2008?) my daughter came and asked my wife why her brother was hitting himself in the head with a rock. Naturally, my wife responded "Because boys are dumb." For those of you with young children, you know how impressionable they can be. So my wife informed me later that day what she had said so I could be prepared for it, and it wouldn't come as such a surprise as it did one evening during dinner when our daughter, (cranky for being told she had to eat her peas) turned and said to her mom "I want to wear make-up so *I* can be the boss." The look my wife had was not directed at her...but me, the guilty one.

Ahem, but I digress...

The next day, following the 'Dumb' comment, was a hot one, and the kids were playing in the yard. My son had on a pair of denim jeans that I had cut into shorts. At one point he had come up to me from playing in the yard to inform me that the fringe that was dangling from the shorts onto his leg was bothersome, and could I remove it?
Having remembered my friend Johnny removing a stray thread on one of my costumes with a cigarette lighter while at the Renaissance Festival, I set to work with a my own lighter. Not a cigarette lighter (Not all boys are dumb - I gave up smoking years ago~!), but rather, I used one of those long necked, fire-place lighters. It worked like a charm~!! The threads immediately flared up then vanished in smoke, so I sent him on his way~!
I returned the lighter to the kitchen and came back outside to sit on the front steps when he came running back, informing me that his leg hurt where I removed the threads. Naturally I informed him that it was his imagination, but he countered immediately that it still burns. With a sigh, I reached for his shorts gave them a rub, and then turned the edge upwards so I could see the inside.
-=Yikes=-
I had set my son on fire~! Frantically, I began patting, rubbing and squeezing out the tiny licks of flame and stubborn embers, all the while apologizing to him. I may have also uttered a few 'expletive deletes' and a reference that my wife was correct.

Boys are Dumb.

Here endith the blog...

Kids these days....

I agreed to do a favor for my business partner yesterday. His daughter is dating some guy who apparently had a question regarding Computers and Games (that's what my Business partner said. When it comes to the computer world, all he hears is 'blah-blah-blah-Microsoft-blah-blah-blah-Printer-blah-blah-blah'...you get the idea).

Soooo...today I get a call and do not recognize the Caller ID. Some times you just gotta shrug and say "I'll bite." I picked up the phone to hear my business partner's daughter on the other end. (the Caller ID gave a name I wasn't familiar with I would have recognized her name), and she promptly reminded me that her dad said it was Okay for her to call about helping her boyfriend.
I gladly replied to her, and said of course I'd be glad to help. She began and asked if I knew anything about Windows 7. I informed her that I had a copy but had not installed it yet (which is true). She sounded disappointed, but not wanting to let her down, I asked her why. She informed me that he took his computer into Best Buy and they upgraded it to Windows 7 (Warning: avoid Best Buy unless someone puts a gun to your head. I doubt their Geek Squad could erase an 'Etch-a-Sketch'), and now none of his games and stuff won't work. I began to inform her that normally when an OS is installed over a prior one, there is usually a re-installation required of the applications. Judging by the pitch, she turned her head slightly away from the phone to inform her boyfriend "You have to re-install all your stuff." To wit, I heard him talking to her in the background, in a constant drone. I was unable to tell what he was saying but it lasted for nearly half a minute, when she came back to me and said "Sorry, he's talking to me."
"Yes, I noticed." came my reply.
Then she asked me "What's a good graphics card and where can he get one." (What kind of cowardly boyfriend has his girlfriend call for his problems....? sheesh). I informed her to tell him that his best bet would be to go to www.tigerdirect.com and www.newegg.com. They have some of the good deals, and if you are of the kind that do it...go to Craigslist.
...Again, they bantered back and forth...
Then she told me that he's a Fire Spinner (Spitter?) and wanted to know who who he can talk to in order to get into the Renaissance Festival. I informed her that I have not associated with people from there in nearly 10 years. She was surprised to hear that, and as I was talking to her, she was talking to him and he was talking to her until I said -
"He's right there, correct?"
"Yes."
I'm afraid I lost my patience. This was terribly wrong to me so I said "Put him on the fucking phone." (This is uncharacteristic of me to say to a teenager, but I know her father.)
"Well, he was busy at first, but..." her voice became distant again as she moved the phone away from her, and then I heard her say "Here."
"Hello?" came the voice.
"Howdy," I replied, then went on, "Lets take them in order, First, when install an OS over another one, you generally need to re-install all your applications as well. Some times these won't work because of the bit of the OS, be it 32 or-"
He interrupted me about that point telling me that he did that and that none of his programs will work because they are 32-bit vs the 64-bit OS and that he prefers 32-bit because its more compatible.
I waited about 2 seconds to be sure he was finished, and said "Correct. In fact that is what I was actually starting to tell you before you interrupted me. Please try not to interrupt and just let me finish, okay?"
...I didn't wait for an answer...
"Secondly," I began, then proceeded to inform him that if he wants to be out where the leading edge of technology is, that he needs to research it. I gave him the analogy that tech is like dog-years. It advances so fast, that you need to spend time to keep abreast of it.
Then he asked me what was the fasted CPU out there. (Obviously he suffered from teenage selective-hearing. he didn't get the answer he wanted so he I felt it best to repeat my answer, only I slightly re-worded it). Then he wanted to know what a good graphics card was and where he could get a good deal on it.
...I had an inclination on what he was fishing for, and so I followed that hunch and let him know that I was no longer in the business and no longer deal with the manufactures any more.
I could tell by his reply that he was genuinely disappointed that I didn't have the ability to get him the latest and greatest graphics card at little (to no) cost to him. (And for a PC that isn't working right? Hardly.)
Then I informed him that although I no longer associate with people from the Renaissance Festival, I am on good terms with some, including those in the Fire-using circle. If he had a promo-video or a web-site, I would be happy to direct them to him and -
"I don't see what good that would do because my skills are superior to theirs." he interrupted.

I was done with him at that moment. He went on about how his skills are more advanced and broad because the people at the Renaissance Festival specialize.
I answered with an 'Uh-huh.'
And the rest of my replies were non-committal. He went on about his chains and how he supposed he has to make a web-site, etc...


Wow. Heinlein was right "Age does not grant you wisdom, but it does lend perspective."
I can easily identify a punk...I was one.

I think tomorrow I will post an incident from the past. Something with humor = "Boy's Are Dumb."

Here endith the Blog...

Why I drink Margarita's

Howdy all -

Here I am, up in the north-land we call Duluth, reclining at my Father-in-law's palatial residence. When you set upon a weekend of relaxation, it shouldn't be surprising the amount of situations that arise. After all, we had decided to cash in on the weekend and bring the kids up north to do a little snow-sledding.

Friday - was riddled with set-backs....weather that affected traffic, packing/laundry situations, Dr. Appointments, and idiots that effected traffic.
We arrived a bit late, but Grandpa had an excellent dinner of Salmon prepared and we ate heartily. (Well, the kids didn't eat exceptionally well..it was just too late in the evening for them). After they went to bed we watched a movie: THE WRESTLER. AN interesting story, and I can understand how it had gotten critical acclaim.

Saturday - This was a day filled with TV, wii, sledding and napping (I had no coffee that day and was rather hard-pressed to have any energy). The sledding was fun and painful. The hill was quite steep and although we went for the kids, the parents and grandma went (Grandpa sat in the truck, playing the game of "Warming House"). The boy went down the hill the most and the daughter lost a boot a couple of times and had a few face-plants that created tears. Naturally the adults decided they should partake in the fun, and no one brought a muffler and filled it with gasoline and gunpowder to strap on to our backs to provide a "rocket assist"...It wasn't needed. The hill provided plenty of speed. I went down the hill more than once, even though I backwards somersaulted the first time. And the second. Yes, I heard the clicks and pops when I did that. And I felt the muscles stretch and strain. And naturally, as I was reaching the bottom I ended up backwards. When you reach those speeds at my age, I suddenly felt like Han Solo, my brain was screaming at me: "I got a bad feeling about this!" When I hit that one bump wrong, I suddenly was in less control of the sled as I was. I went from cruising backwards down the hill into an assorted rolling maneuver. Back-head-sled...back-head-sled.
*ouch*
Once we returned to the homestead, it was shower-time followed by medicine. The kids had hot coco, and I washed down the Ibuprofen with Margaritas. The kids warmed up the way they wanted to, and so I warmed up the way I wanted to~! And I made sure that I remained warm....


Sunday - Well... the kids are in a wii bowling grudge-match with the grandparents, as I type this with a sore neck and upper back. I just heard the daughter yell "I WON!" several times. (Guess the match is over). And as I close, we are headed off to Canal Park. The kids are restless and for the sake of the adults, they need to become tired.

Sorry I was late

Well, I missed Thursday's installment. Things were pretty hectic at the household last night. Today isn't going any easier and we will be out of town for the weekend (so not post until Sunday...at the earliest)

So, since I don't have the time to sit down and ramble along...I will copy somthing I had posted elsewhere.

For those of you with children, you should recognize the style of the writing. Similar to the Mouse-Cookie & Moose-Muffin stories, I had recalled a couple weeks ago a discussion I had when my kids wanted to watch a Godzilla movie. They have seen quite a few of the movies, and for some reason, it was not the first couple of movies that raised all the questions. They seemed to accept the premise with minimal input. However, in re-watching one of the films (I cannot recall which it was...sorry) they suddenly had a thirst for knowledge...

If you let your kids watch a GODZILLA movie
…they will want to know what he’s doing in the town.
Once you inform them he’s angrily stomping through Tokyo, they will want to know why he is so mad.
So you tell them he’s angry because of Nuclear testing.
They want to know what that means, so once you explain, they want to know why someone would do such a thing. So you give a brief explanation regarding the concept of war and what happened to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Then they ask why the army cannot hurt him.
After you inform them of the resiliency of his hide along with his ultra-fast regeneration, they will want to know how he got to be so big and strong.
Once you explain how his power is tied into the Atomic Bombing, they will want to know what Nuclear Fusion is.
So you think about it for a moment, and see that they are waiting on an answer from you. So you give a generalized statement regarding the atoms and how molecules are the fabric of our being. Chances are, they won’t understand.
They consider this, look back to the TV and ask if its like The Force.
As you begin to explain the difference, they want to know why their mouths move funny compared to the words.
First you explain that the film is ‘dubbed’, and then you explain why.
They want to know why the film was made in Japan and not in the USA. You explain that the author was Japanese and he got the idea based on the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Confused, they will turn their attention back to the movie.

Chances are, your spouse will wonder why the children are ‘stomping’ to the table with arms out front and ‘Rar-ing’ at the dinner table.
They will inform her that they are pretending to be Godzilla.
Your spouse will look at you and say “Oh really?” and when she does, the children will rapidly and loudly simultaneously begin to explain all about Godzilla from a viewpoint totally other than what you told them, combining actions and characters and assorted monsters from many of the movies in one long excited dissertation.

And also pointing out that Bambi never stood a chance.

Here endith the blog

American Idol (Idle?)

As we were putting the kids to bed last night, my wife had the TV-Guide listings on her computer. I had glanced at the screen as I walked past and noticed an images advertising American Idol. Like many folks, we watched part of the first couple of seasons. I remember the season with Carrie Underwood beating out Bo Bice and I saw snippets of the season with Taylor Hicks and Katrina McPhee....(I think that was their names) but nothing since. And as I walked past my wife's computer, I remembered why.
Was it the Judges?
No. Although Ryan Seacrest should be replaced by someone with some talent, I won't digress into that. So....it wasn't because of the judges, I actually did enjoy the commentary from Simon. Not because he was intentionally cruel, but because he spoke straight up: honest and to the point. It was very refreshing. I dabbled in film and theatre for a few years and found the non-confrontational demeanor of Randy and Paula very reminiscant of the false-faced backstabbing world of entertainment. Their weak-willed, awful, mealymouthed manner was a perfect non-confrontational manner of deceit. And I've dealt with a lot of lies. I come from the school of thought that if the contestant sucked, then they sucked. Come out and let them know it, they deserve to know. Inform them why you felt it was awful, where they really bottomed out and what they can do to improve.
Was it the contestants?
Not precisely, but it does dove-tail into the reason. For starters, have you ever read the requirements for auditioning? Along with the typical "your identity and every bit of likeness thereof shall belong to us" disclaimer, I remember reading (from the official web-site) that you had to be under 40 years old. Hmmm...I don't think that someone 41 years of age that auditioned wearing a cap on his head that displayed the numbers "40" could get by with saying "Yes, I'm under 40." But I'd like to see it. Do the producers want someone younger because they are more pliable? Will possess more stamina, ergo, providing them with more money? That reminded me of when I brought the show up to a friend of mine who possesses a diva voice. I had asked her why she had not auditioned for American Idol when they were in town. She obviously has one of the best voices in town.
She informed me "Because tall, over-weight white chicks would get voted off."...well. She put that to the point straight away, that's for certain.

And so, the program has a set criteria, and has churned out many artists that I consider to be from a similar mold. And THAT is the problem. I'm exceedingly grateful that those that shaped our music today were never forced to make it or break it on that show. Our music would be different...so VERY limited by comparison.

And with that, I present unto you (in alphabetical order) a top-10 list regarding some of our the most influential singer's and songwriters that would have never succeed on American Idol. In fact, it is quite possible that half of them would never make it past the initial audition.~!! These are people who shaped the music we listen to today...

#1) Jim Croce (They'd never allow his cigarettes and booze on stage.)
#2) Bob Dylan (They would have instantly disqualified him for not being able to hold a tune.)
#3) Ella Fitzgerald (A large black woman singing Jazz has not done well on that show.)
#4) Odetta Holmes (If her voice voice doesn't take you into a dream-land...you must already be dead...but being a civil rights activist, they'd never let her on.)
#5) Janis Joplin (Her raw talent would get her forward, but then her back-stage / hotel room antics would create a ruckus. The producers would let her stay on the show because of the ratings, but they'd cut her before they made the top ten.)
#6) Mark Knopfller (Guitar playing is his strong-suit. He's the kind of bloke you'd never look at twice on the street otherwise.)
#7) Annie Lennox (If she went on looking "Emily Post" then she would probably ace the show. However, that is not her motif.)
#8) Kyle Minogue (I can't remember the name of the hit she had (was there more than one?), but if I recall, her voice lacked power and was flat. Hmmm...maybe its okay have a flat voice of you show off parts that are not flat.)
#9) Tom Waits (One of the most clever song-writers ever, I would really enjoy him performing a rendition of "The Piano Has Been Drinking", mentioning the Judges in the song...)
#10 Frank Zappa (People that don't like Frank, or appreciate his work have never really sat down and listened to his work! And the context of his work is exactly why only Simon would be the only one to like him.)


Here endith the blog...
===============================================

Football Rant

Last night I was playing Ogame. Its a browser-based MMO set in space. The game is simplistic and the design is rudimentary. I play it for the social aspect; I need adults to communicate with and although some of these folks are petulant whiners who most likely troll forums (Forums? Huh. I almost said Boards, I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks). There are a few whose company I do enjoy. (On a related note, if you are looking for a game where the action is a bit more intense, I recommend Space Pioneers). Anyway, I was up until about 2 AM last night as my space-ships in-game were traveling to defend someone's planet. During this time, I was chatting with Naraku (that is his Ogame nic) about football, and he, like me, he enjoys a good ball-game. Granted, we all want our chosen team to win, but when its a good game it some how makes a loss a bit more tolerable. So I had mused to him through our IM window that the late hits on Brett Farve were uncalled for - or should I say 'literally uncalled' (and he - a Saints fan, agreed). Clearly, the Vikings were the better team, but for some reason, the team was not in sync. So many turn-overs and the game was *still* tied at the end? It looked like the the Cardinals were caught unprepared, and the Vikings should have known better, did not act as such. And I suddenly asked myself why. - Is there truly an underground movement to create a "Cinderella Story" for the Saints? I guess next Sunday we shall see. Or should I say, I'll read about it. I have no intention of watching the game. I cannot draw my attention to anything that I have lost respect for.
Granted, that is nothing more than a hypothesis as I have no proof of the matter. Admittedly, the alternative is that the referee's were not showing signs of being biased or corrupt and favoring the saints. It may very well be that the officials were simply incompetent. After all, several days after the Saints-Vikings game, the Saints were fined $30,000.00 for their actions. Hmmmm....does Roger Goodell actually believe that would help? They lost face and just proved it again. In a real-life scenario, that would be like someone side-swiping your car on the freeway and then he gets pulled over and is issued a $7.00 speeding ticket before being sent on his way.

Whatever.

Maybe it is merely chance and coincidence. A series of unfortunate and incompetent mistakes by so many. Of course, if that is the case, I suspect that due to the directions of their defensive coordinator, Gregg Williams (who instructed his defensive unit to focus on ruthless quarterback hitting) that there might be some serious payback as the teams the Saints abused with a huge lack of sportsman-like conduct decide that turn-about is fair play.
For next year, I would think many people would feel vindicated if the Saints were decimated next year by the Cardinals and Vikings. Of course, should the Vikings win the Superbowl in 2011, the NFL will most certainly have their lock-out...

"Here endth The Rant."



==========================================================================

Day 1

I should have let the Acetaminophen kick in before I started this, but since I didn't - I'll just press on and encourage the process with a beer.

There a many odd things that happen and occur in our lifetime's and over the years I have been told repeatedly that my family is not a group of people you meet. They are something that happens to you.

And, since I have been prompted of late to write a BLOG, in addition to the fact that I feel the 'emotional encouragement' as well, having just seen JULIA & JULIA. (We will see if I can maintain the discipline to keep this up, or if I tire of it.)

The last week has been a bit trying...everyone in the family has been under the weather in one way or another. However, a chuckle came a few days back when Ms. Z was sick and in the midst of this, she became rather...'gassy'. At one point she ripped out a good, lengthy fart then proceeded to walk around the kitchen. After moving and standing, moving and standing for about 30 seconds, she found herself on the other side of the kitchen. She looked at me with great surprise and said:
"Whew~! I just can't escape myself."

It snowed today and sure enough, Mr. A rode his bike in the driveway then played with his RC trucks in the snow. Ms Z saw this and the two of them slid on their little saucer-sleds down the snow-banks on the side of the driveway until dinner time.

...and now I think its a good time to close day one...