Amanda returned to work today following her 11 week maternity leave thereby commencing my new Mr. Mom era. I embark on this new era with sweaty palms and some trepidation. I have handled Grace alone plenty, feeding and changing her often. I'm confident she's in good hands, but it is still nice to have your teammate around. Amanda, I'm sure, has her own anxiety to deal with-leaving Grace, returning to work, knowing she's leaving Grace with her dopey father, etc.
So, how did Day One go, you ask? In a word-Chunky. You see, Grace decided that today was the day to have the two worst(at least that I can recall) spit-up episodes of her young life. I'm not sure if she is protesting Mommy leaving or what, but she uncorked two unholy floods that may very well have ruined two outfits and a TV remote control. I haven't seen this much spew since Lard Ass set off the chain reaction vomiting at the pie eating contest in Stand By Me. With her partially cleft palate, Grace usually has some stuff exit through her nose on the occasions when she does spit up. Today, however, it gushed out. It looked like when the snakes poured out of the holes in the wall of the Well of Souls in Raiders of the Lost Ark. I don't know where all the spit up came from; it didn't seem like she had eaten enough today to produce the volume that came back out. Maybe my kid is a camel that has stored formula for weeks waiting for this very moment.
But I can't complain because, other than coating my shirts enough that they looked like I was about to make french toast out of them, my girl Gracie was awesome to hang with on Day One. Who knows what will crop up on Day Two. All I know is I'll be ready for the spit-up machine having already fashioned a shirt out of super absorbent Brawny paper towels. Wish me luck.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Our wacky year of change continued on a sad note Thursday; my maternal grandfather, Jorge Mino, passed away at age 88 after a tough bout with cancer. He enjoyed reading what I wrote, often imploring me to write more frequently, so I'm going to use this meager forum that I have to attempt to pay tribute to him.
My grandfather squeezed a lot of living into his 88 years. Born and raised in Ecuador, he was an engineer who helped literally carve roads and rails through the Ecuadorian jungle. He had many amazing tales from those days, but one always stood out as my favorite- They were working near a canal where the wind blew so steady and so powerfully that you could lean against it as if it were a wall. Of course, my grandfather happened to be leaning when the wind let up just long enough for him to fall backwards into the canal.
In the early 1940's my grandparents emigrated to the U.S. becoming American citizens. My grandfather was fiercely proud to be an American and truly lived the suburban American dream. He was so patriotic and pro-America that I was reluctant to tell him when I purchased my first Honda for fear of a lecture about "Made in the USA". He often praised the work ethic of Americans as compared to Ecuadorians, whom he said often didn't want to put in a full workday. He instilled this work ethic in his three children who, in turn, passed it onto his grandchildren. (Just because I don't always heed the lesson doesn't mean I didn't learn it.)
One of the other things Grandpa loved about America was its national pasttime. He loved baseball, sharing this love with his children and, I can say for sure, this grandchild. He and my mom sparked an interest in the game that for me has sometimes bordered on obsession. Grandpa may have loved baseball, but he excelled in golf. While I was never actually able to play a round with him, I've heard he was very good. And his tips and clubs have helped my game immensely. My grandfather followed many other sports and even tried to watch one of my favorites, hockey, because he knew I played and wanted to learn more about the game. He may have been the only man in America who like Fox's Glo-puck. The gimmick actually helped his tiring eyes follow the action.
Grandpa's greatest passion of all, though, was his family. I know a grandson's perspective can be rather biased, but I know he cared for nothing more than the well-being of my family. He took great pride in grandchildren's stellar report cards and school projects. His encouragement or "atta boy" was always considered high praise. As kids, Grandpa would always "secretly" slip us some cash at every visit, something "for the gas tank", even if we weren't yet at driving age. Then sometime during high school the small gifts stopped. It was an unspoken, understood signal that I was growing old enough to take care of my own cash flow. A lesson that was not lost on me. Grandpa would often spend his time tracking hurricanes possibly churning towards coastal relatives or watching the flight numbers of planes ferrying family members. ( See I told you my anxiety was hereditary.) I always found these things ironic because he had a great many adventures as a young man. Did he worry his way through those? I'll never know.
In recent years, he slowed his pace and traveled less frequently. As I grew older and real life intruded, I visited far less than I should have. I will regret that to a certain extent, especially with e-mail and telephones I should have kept in better contact. That's not to say we didn't talk, because we did and I enjoyed it every single time. My grandfather and I had intelliegent conversations, he possesed a wicked, hilarious wit and he told the greatest stories.
I am forever grateful that he was able to meet Grace; during the summer he admitted he feared he wouldn't be around to get that chance. We were to see him the day after Christmas; obviously we missed that last trip. But now Grandpa is free from the multiple bouts with cancer, the tricky back, the creaky knees and the failing hearing. He had made peace with his end, so now it is up to the rest of us to make peace with it as well.
My grandfather squeezed a lot of living into his 88 years. Born and raised in Ecuador, he was an engineer who helped literally carve roads and rails through the Ecuadorian jungle. He had many amazing tales from those days, but one always stood out as my favorite- They were working near a canal where the wind blew so steady and so powerfully that you could lean against it as if it were a wall. Of course, my grandfather happened to be leaning when the wind let up just long enough for him to fall backwards into the canal.
In the early 1940's my grandparents emigrated to the U.S. becoming American citizens. My grandfather was fiercely proud to be an American and truly lived the suburban American dream. He was so patriotic and pro-America that I was reluctant to tell him when I purchased my first Honda for fear of a lecture about "Made in the USA". He often praised the work ethic of Americans as compared to Ecuadorians, whom he said often didn't want to put in a full workday. He instilled this work ethic in his three children who, in turn, passed it onto his grandchildren. (Just because I don't always heed the lesson doesn't mean I didn't learn it.)
One of the other things Grandpa loved about America was its national pasttime. He loved baseball, sharing this love with his children and, I can say for sure, this grandchild. He and my mom sparked an interest in the game that for me has sometimes bordered on obsession. Grandpa may have loved baseball, but he excelled in golf. While I was never actually able to play a round with him, I've heard he was very good. And his tips and clubs have helped my game immensely. My grandfather followed many other sports and even tried to watch one of my favorites, hockey, because he knew I played and wanted to learn more about the game. He may have been the only man in America who like Fox's Glo-puck. The gimmick actually helped his tiring eyes follow the action.
Grandpa's greatest passion of all, though, was his family. I know a grandson's perspective can be rather biased, but I know he cared for nothing more than the well-being of my family. He took great pride in grandchildren's stellar report cards and school projects. His encouragement or "atta boy" was always considered high praise. As kids, Grandpa would always "secretly" slip us some cash at every visit, something "for the gas tank", even if we weren't yet at driving age. Then sometime during high school the small gifts stopped. It was an unspoken, understood signal that I was growing old enough to take care of my own cash flow. A lesson that was not lost on me. Grandpa would often spend his time tracking hurricanes possibly churning towards coastal relatives or watching the flight numbers of planes ferrying family members. ( See I told you my anxiety was hereditary.) I always found these things ironic because he had a great many adventures as a young man. Did he worry his way through those? I'll never know.
In recent years, he slowed his pace and traveled less frequently. As I grew older and real life intruded, I visited far less than I should have. I will regret that to a certain extent, especially with e-mail and telephones I should have kept in better contact. That's not to say we didn't talk, because we did and I enjoyed it every single time. My grandfather and I had intelliegent conversations, he possesed a wicked, hilarious wit and he told the greatest stories.
I am forever grateful that he was able to meet Grace; during the summer he admitted he feared he wouldn't be around to get that chance. We were to see him the day after Christmas; obviously we missed that last trip. But now Grandpa is free from the multiple bouts with cancer, the tricky back, the creaky knees and the failing hearing. He had made peace with his end, so now it is up to the rest of us to make peace with it as well.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Dr. Bryan Hailey, D.D.S.
Little did I know when I took the Manny job that I would, as part of my duties, have to masquerade as an orthodontist. Okay, perhaps masquerade is not the right word; I didn't perpetrate a fraud on the public by impersonating an orthodontist. However, I have played amateur orthodontist as I have had to repair Z's appliance a handful of times over the last couple weeks. Z has a Herbst device, which I can assure you is indeed an orthodontic appliance and not some sort of evil weather changing machine.
Mr. President release the prisoners or I will be forced to unleash the Herbst Device! Bwa ha ha ha.
Anyway, back in the real world, the Herbst device is a hinged appliance that works in conjunction with braces to move the jaw and teeth. The hinge, though wired to the braces, sort of moves freely in the mouth. And sometimes the hinge pulls apart and must be repaired. That's where I come in. To put the hinge back together, it first must be taken further apart. This requires removing and then replacing the tiniest microscopic screw you've ever seen. So I, Clumsiest Man Alive, have to use my ham hands to remove and replace the screw. Poor Z has to yank his cheek over like a fishhook so I can jam my fat fingers in his mouth. Anyone who knows me knows that finesse is not my strong suit, but the "procedure" went quite smoothly. After several procedures over the course of a couple days I became quite adept and it became rather routine.
Since it seemed that the hinge was sliding apart too often we went back to the orthodontist to make sure there wasn't something Z was doing wrong to cause the frequent mishaps. No, they said, everything looked great and as he adjusted to having the device in his mouth it would probably occur less frequently. Great. Everything's hunky dory, end of story, right? Of course not.
That night, a mere three hours since we've been in the orthodontists office, the cap that anchors the device to his back tooth breaks completely free allowing the device to float around in his mouth held in only by a string thin wire attached to to the braces. By this time I'm wondering if I'm being punk'd by my family. I've never had braces (though I should have), but I understand there is a certain level of frustrating maintenance that goes with the the deal. This, however, seems ridiculous. I'm thinking we are going to have to make a trip back to the orthodontist office because there is no way Z could get through the night like this.
I call the emergency after-hours number and the doc on duty tells me to just take some wire cutters and snip the wire so I can remove the device until we can come back in and have it put back on. Really, just take some wire cutters and snip that little old wire, huh? But that's what I did. Of course, not having sterile equipment or an autoclave I had to root in my tool bucket for wire cutting options. I found dull scissors, rusty pliers and filthy wire cutters. It looked like an array of torture tools.
Hey, Z, maybe after I clip that wire I can use these rusty pliers to rip out your toenails.
Fortunately, the wire cutters cleaned up well and, despite the dubious look on his face, Z let me clip the wire. I even did it safely without chipping any teeth or slashing any gums. Maybe I've found a new calling. I wonder how I'd look in a white lab coat.
Mr. President release the prisoners or I will be forced to unleash the Herbst Device! Bwa ha ha ha.
Anyway, back in the real world, the Herbst device is a hinged appliance that works in conjunction with braces to move the jaw and teeth. The hinge, though wired to the braces, sort of moves freely in the mouth. And sometimes the hinge pulls apart and must be repaired. That's where I come in. To put the hinge back together, it first must be taken further apart. This requires removing and then replacing the tiniest microscopic screw you've ever seen. So I, Clumsiest Man Alive, have to use my ham hands to remove and replace the screw. Poor Z has to yank his cheek over like a fishhook so I can jam my fat fingers in his mouth. Anyone who knows me knows that finesse is not my strong suit, but the "procedure" went quite smoothly. After several procedures over the course of a couple days I became quite adept and it became rather routine.
Since it seemed that the hinge was sliding apart too often we went back to the orthodontist to make sure there wasn't something Z was doing wrong to cause the frequent mishaps. No, they said, everything looked great and as he adjusted to having the device in his mouth it would probably occur less frequently. Great. Everything's hunky dory, end of story, right? Of course not.
That night, a mere three hours since we've been in the orthodontists office, the cap that anchors the device to his back tooth breaks completely free allowing the device to float around in his mouth held in only by a string thin wire attached to to the braces. By this time I'm wondering if I'm being punk'd by my family. I've never had braces (though I should have), but I understand there is a certain level of frustrating maintenance that goes with the the deal. This, however, seems ridiculous. I'm thinking we are going to have to make a trip back to the orthodontist office because there is no way Z could get through the night like this.
I call the emergency after-hours number and the doc on duty tells me to just take some wire cutters and snip the wire so I can remove the device until we can come back in and have it put back on. Really, just take some wire cutters and snip that little old wire, huh? But that's what I did. Of course, not having sterile equipment or an autoclave I had to root in my tool bucket for wire cutting options. I found dull scissors, rusty pliers and filthy wire cutters. It looked like an array of torture tools.
Hey, Z, maybe after I clip that wire I can use these rusty pliers to rip out your toenails.
Fortunately, the wire cutters cleaned up well and, despite the dubious look on his face, Z let me clip the wire. I even did it safely without chipping any teeth or slashing any gums. Maybe I've found a new calling. I wonder how I'd look in a white lab coat.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Movie Review Haiku-Quantum of Solace
Flick only so-so,
Bad title and awful song,
Dan Craig still cool, though
Bad title and awful song,
Dan Craig still cool, though
Friday, November 28, 2008
Did you hear that?
One of the toughest adjustments I've had to make so far as a new dad is tempering my overactive worry gene. My dad lives by the credo, "I'll worry when there is something to worry about." On the other hand, my worry meter, via my mom's side of the family, says "There's something wrong, I just don't know what it is yet."
The area where my anxiety is toughest on me is in the baby sounds department. You need to be an NSA cryptographer to decode the meanings of all the sounds the baby makes. Some are cute and some will make you bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night (assuming you've been able to fall asleep in the first place). Gurgle. Sigh. Snore. Sneeze. Hiccup. Gasp. Squeak. Amanda and I have conversations that would sound ridiculous to outsiders. (Though, I suspect most new parents have had the same conversations.)
"She's making a weird snoring sound. Do you think that's normal?"
"Hey, she stopped making that weird snoring sound. Think that's normal? Check to make sure she's still breathing."
"Is that a different gurgle than the one she was making yesterday?"
"Is that more sneezing? I hope that cold hasn't settled in her kidney."
Logically I know that most of the sounds are normal and, unless they are accompanied by signs of distress and/or crying, that they are harmless indicators that my daughter is growing. I just wish she wasn't a Navajo Codetalker leaving me to decipher the code of what's normal and what is not.
The area where my anxiety is toughest on me is in the baby sounds department. You need to be an NSA cryptographer to decode the meanings of all the sounds the baby makes. Some are cute and some will make you bolt upright in bed in the middle of the night (assuming you've been able to fall asleep in the first place). Gurgle. Sigh. Snore. Sneeze. Hiccup. Gasp. Squeak. Amanda and I have conversations that would sound ridiculous to outsiders. (Though, I suspect most new parents have had the same conversations.)
"She's making a weird snoring sound. Do you think that's normal?"
"Hey, she stopped making that weird snoring sound. Think that's normal? Check to make sure she's still breathing."
"Is that a different gurgle than the one she was making yesterday?"
"Is that more sneezing? I hope that cold hasn't settled in her kidney."
Logically I know that most of the sounds are normal and, unless they are accompanied by signs of distress and/or crying, that they are harmless indicators that my daughter is growing. I just wish she wasn't a Navajo Codetalker leaving me to decipher the code of what's normal and what is not.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
What A Difference A Year Makes.
Change has come to to Washington (and I don't mean Barack Obama). Last Thanksgiving I was texting back and forth with Killer as news broke that Caps' coach Glen Hanlon was being fired. After losing to the Thrashers 5-1 on Thanksgiving Eve, the Caps had stumbled to a 6-14-1 start. Though I respect Hanlon very much, I figured a shakeup was necessary. The Caps installed minor league lifer Bruce Boudreau as coach , they won the day after Thanksgiving and the team soared from there. Winning at a torrid pace allowed the Caps to narrowly earn a division title and play a nail-biting playoff series against Philly. Alex Ovechkin thrived in Boudreau's up-tempo, puck possession system, scoring 65 goals and 112 points. More importantly, the Caps were exciting and relevant again. This Thanksgiving, the Caps stand atop the division with a 12-7-3 record after smacking the Thrashers 5-3 last night. Let's hope this year they also win their first post-Turkey Day game because I'll be there Friday night to see it live. Happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Adventures In Babysitting
Amanda went to the Redskins-Cowboys game last night so I got my first crack at caring for Grace alone for a long period of time. Until last night I don't think Amanda had been out without Grace for longer than an hour or two. She deserved the break, but I was a little nervous to fly solo for that long. Fortunately, there was no real adventure; Grace and I enjoyed a rather uneventful, fun evening together. In fact, Mommy may have been at the game, but, as the picture shows, Grace and I got to play dress-up for the game. I think I got the better end of the bargain.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Grab Bag
Busy days and sleep deprivation have kept me from piecing together enough coherent thoughts to write a lengthy post, but I do have a few unrelated, passing thoughts:
*Z and I have revived a game I hadn't played since I was a kid-PunchBuggy. We play virtually every time we are in the car. It has surprised me just how many of the newer Beetles there are on the road.
*I saw a funny license plate on a giant SUV yesterday. I wonder how many kids the "MOMVOY" was toting.
*I love to eat. I love to eat breakfast. I love to eat Chick-Fil-A breakfast. The other day I had a Chicken, Egg and Cheese Bagel sandwich. Which begs the question-When preparing this sandwich which do they place on the bagel first, the chicken or the egg?
*Cliche Alert! In a move akin to rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic or putting lipstick on a pig (please don't lecture me Sen. McCain), the Orioles unveiled new uniforms yesterday. Actually, they just made some minor adjustments, but I like them all. For the first time since 1972 the road gray jersey will say Baltimore instead of Orioles across the front. They also fixed the bird logo so it now looks more like an Oriole and less like a duck. Of course, unless the new unis are some sort of sci-fi exoskeletons that make the players more talented we are still looking at a well-dressed last place team.
*Due to a wacky cable situation I don't get Comcast SportsNet so I've only been able to watch three Caps' games this year. They have won all three so maybe I better fix my cable situation.
*Finally, I've decided that my infant daughter is like Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. "Oh daddy, this onesie you have put on me is very nice. Yes, nice enough...for me to poop on."
*Z and I have revived a game I hadn't played since I was a kid-PunchBuggy. We play virtually every time we are in the car. It has surprised me just how many of the newer Beetles there are on the road.
*I saw a funny license plate on a giant SUV yesterday. I wonder how many kids the "MOMVOY" was toting.
*I love to eat. I love to eat breakfast. I love to eat Chick-Fil-A breakfast. The other day I had a Chicken, Egg and Cheese Bagel sandwich. Which begs the question-When preparing this sandwich which do they place on the bagel first, the chicken or the egg?
*Cliche Alert! In a move akin to rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic or putting lipstick on a pig (please don't lecture me Sen. McCain), the Orioles unveiled new uniforms yesterday. Actually, they just made some minor adjustments, but I like them all. For the first time since 1972 the road gray jersey will say Baltimore instead of Orioles across the front. They also fixed the bird logo so it now looks more like an Oriole and less like a duck. Of course, unless the new unis are some sort of sci-fi exoskeletons that make the players more talented we are still looking at a well-dressed last place team.
*Due to a wacky cable situation I don't get Comcast SportsNet so I've only been able to watch three Caps' games this year. They have won all three so maybe I better fix my cable situation.
*Finally, I've decided that my infant daughter is like Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. "Oh daddy, this onesie you have put on me is very nice. Yes, nice enough...for me to poop on."
Saturday, November 08, 2008
School of Grace
More observations and lessons learned as I continue serving my first term as Mayor of New Daddy Town:
-The cuter the compliment silkscreened on a onesie (sweet princess, cute little bunny, mommy's buttered biscuit), the likelier it is that the girl wearing it will spit up, poo, or pee all over it.
-Like Amanda's Uncle Bob advised me, ounce for ounce there is no substance on Earth more valuable, no resource more precious than breast milk.
-When my daughter stretches and stirs signaling feeding time she has the exact same herky-jerky dance moves as Elaine Benes on Seinfeld.
-When a crying jag appears to have ended never, ever jinx yourself by saying, "Hey I think she stopped-aw dammit..."
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Report:Pigs Flying Through Frozen Hell
I have fundamental differences with Barack Obama's platform yet at 11pm Tuesday night I had goosebumps as they announced he was projected as the 44th President of the United States. There has been much hyperbolic gushing about the significance of the event and maybe I'm just adding to it.
As a white man, I can only surmise what African-Americans are feeling. I shed no tears like those girls at Spellman College, but I do feel like we are turning the page on the last eight years. I thought of my black friends and acquaintances Tuesday night; were they weeping with joy, calling their friends to rejoice together or just taking a moment to let it soak in? Maybe all of the above. Electing a man of color to our highest office becomes a symbol of how far America has come and also of how far it can go. It continues to heal a divide hundreds of years in the making.
Obama has been derided for running mainly on ideas - hope and change. Yet, isn't that what presidents really are, symbols reflecting where the country is or what we want it to become? Personally, I was relieved that the politics of fear and smear did not derail this historic ride.
It will be interesting to watch Barack Obama from here. As rhetoric fades toward reality expectations can become burdens. I was glad to hear, even as the crowd in Grant Park chanted 'Yes we did.', that Obama continued with his familiar refrain of 'Yes we can.' He has already accomplished much, but the challenge has just begun. When you have offered to carry the hope of an entire nation you'd better have strong shoulders. I hope he, and by extension America, is up for the task.
As a white man, I can only surmise what African-Americans are feeling. I shed no tears like those girls at Spellman College, but I do feel like we are turning the page on the last eight years. I thought of my black friends and acquaintances Tuesday night; were they weeping with joy, calling their friends to rejoice together or just taking a moment to let it soak in? Maybe all of the above. Electing a man of color to our highest office becomes a symbol of how far America has come and also of how far it can go. It continues to heal a divide hundreds of years in the making.
Obama has been derided for running mainly on ideas - hope and change. Yet, isn't that what presidents really are, symbols reflecting where the country is or what we want it to become? Personally, I was relieved that the politics of fear and smear did not derail this historic ride.
It will be interesting to watch Barack Obama from here. As rhetoric fades toward reality expectations can become burdens. I was glad to hear, even as the crowd in Grant Park chanted 'Yes we did.', that Obama continued with his familiar refrain of 'Yes we can.' He has already accomplished much, but the challenge has just begun. When you have offered to carry the hope of an entire nation you'd better have strong shoulders. I hope he, and by extension America, is up for the task.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Welcome Back, John McCain.
Like my last couple posts about the election I am not arguing policy here. I was happy to see the funny, likable John McCain show up on SNL last night. He was able to poke fun at himself and his running mate. Had he acted like this instead of a surly, cantankerous liar throughout the general election campaign he might be a lot closer in the polls. (Not that those are locks; it will not shock me if McCain pulls the upset Tuesday.)
As entertaining as I found McCain's opening bit (which, of course, owed more to the writers and Tina Fey than to McCain) I think there was more than a kernel of truth in his Weekend Update bit. He was talking about radical strategy shifts in the face of flagging polls. The startegies had funny names like "The Reverse Maverick" and "The Double Maverick". The one that is probably more true than even McCain would like to admit was called "The Sad Grandpa": "C'mon, Obama's got plenty of chances to be president. When is it gonna be my turn?" Kinda sums it up doesn't it?
One other election note: My favorite statistic of the election season- When the Redskins win their last home game before the election, the incumbent party wins. When the Redskins lose that last home game, the incumbents lose. Bottom line, if you put Country First (gag!) root for the Skins. Ready for Change(yeah right!)? Root for the Steelers. Put's my wife in a bit of a pickle.
As entertaining as I found McCain's opening bit (which, of course, owed more to the writers and Tina Fey than to McCain) I think there was more than a kernel of truth in his Weekend Update bit. He was talking about radical strategy shifts in the face of flagging polls. The startegies had funny names like "The Reverse Maverick" and "The Double Maverick". The one that is probably more true than even McCain would like to admit was called "The Sad Grandpa": "C'mon, Obama's got plenty of chances to be president. When is it gonna be my turn?" Kinda sums it up doesn't it?
One other election note: My favorite statistic of the election season- When the Redskins win their last home game before the election, the incumbent party wins. When the Redskins lose that last home game, the incumbents lose. Bottom line, if you put Country First (gag!) root for the Skins. Ready for Change(yeah right!)? Root for the Steelers. Put's my wife in a bit of a pickle.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Is It November 5th Yet?
Joe the Plumber. Terrorist Pals. Hypnosis. Pit Bull. Hockey Mom. Out of Touch. Amtrak. $150,000 on Clothes. Change We Can Believe In. No, I'm For Change. Bridge To Nowhere. McBush. False Birth Certificates. Celebrity. Ladies and Gentlemen. War Hero. Reverend Wright. ACORN. Drill, Baby, Drill. Country First. Hussein. Maverick. Flag Pin. Old Man Yells at Cloud. You Betcha.
I am so sick of the unprecedented (seems that way to me) kitchen sink, throw-it-against-the-wall-to-see-what-sticks "messaging" that both candidates and their suurogates are employing. Maybe I'm just suffering from 24 hour coverage overload. Either way, I'm thinking of breaking out the DVDs and enjoying a West Wing marathon on election night. This year a fictional president may be our only hope.
I am so sick of the unprecedented (seems that way to me) kitchen sink, throw-it-against-the-wall-to-see-what-sticks "messaging" that both candidates and their suurogates are employing. Maybe I'm just suffering from 24 hour coverage overload. Either way, I'm thinking of breaking out the DVDs and enjoying a West Wing marathon on election night. This year a fictional president may be our only hope.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Irony Alert
I just heard John McCain accuse Barack Obama of "saying anything to get elected". That's f-ing hilarious. And he said it with a straight face. How about checking out the man in the mirror John "I've Abandoned Everything I Used To Stand For" McCain.
Curse of the Hockey Mom?
This has to be my favorite hockey statistic of the new season. Like a tiki idol around Greg Brady's neck, Sarah Palin appears to be a curse upon any NHL team she visits. She dropped the ceremonial first puck before the Philadelphia Flyers' opening game a couple weeks ago. The Flyers proceeded to lose their first six games. They finally broke the curse last night with a victory over the Devils. How did they break the Palin jinx? Well, they didn't, Gov. Palin did. She dropped the ceremonial puck at the St. Louis Blues game last night and brought her curse with her. The Blues lost the game 4-0 and ,worse yet, their starting goalie, Manny Legace, injured his leg when he stumbled over the carpet used for Palin to walk across the ice. I wonder if her son's team ever won a game.
I'm putting this personal plea out to Caps owner Ted Leonsis right now-For the love of cheese, please do not let this woman inside the Verizon Center. I realize if elected she'll work mere blocks away, but that is close enough. She must never be allowed inside. Never.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Go, Kings(or Preds or Panthers), Go!
Saw an interesting tidbit reported in the Toronto Globe and Mail regarding putting a second NHL franchise in Toronto. Apparently, this is in the very early discussion stages among NHL governors. Personally, I think it would be kind of cool, though I suppose I really don't care one way or another seeing as how I don't live anywhere near Toronto. If it happens I would prefer that an existing, struggling franchise moved as opposed to an expansion team being awarded. I think the NHL has enough teams and revenue issues without worrying about expansion. Sheesh, if Los Angeles can have two teams and the New York area three, why not put another team in a real hockey city?
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Meet Grace.
When I was a kid my dad used to joke that whenever we went on a trip-family vacation, visiting relatives,etc- that we would always return home with more stuff than we left with. This was never more true for me than this past Tuesday when I slowly pulled away from the hospital with my most precious cargo ever-my beautiful newborn daughter, Grace Catherine. That's right, she decided to bless us with her arrival about three weeks earlier than the docs predicted. This has made for an exciting, unpredictable week to say the least. I'm pleased to announce that Amanda was a delivery all-star and that she and baby are healthy and happy.
Grace weighed in at a healthy 6 lbs, 6 oz and 19.5 inches. She does, however, have one small issue. She was born with a partially cleft palate; there is a small gap in the soft palate/roof of her mouth. This will require a surgical correction down the road but, fortunately, at this time it causes no major problems. We feel that if this is the worst thing that happened, we are in great shape. Otherwise, we are settling in to the happy transition at home complete with lack of sleep and dirty diapers. I wouldn't change it for anything.
Some of you may be interested in how we finally settled, after months of indecision, on the name Grace Catherine. We had narrowed the list to three-Grace Catherine(Amanda's grandmother's name), Sydney Grace (probably our favorite throughout the pregnancy) and Phoebe Grace(a late entry that didn't even make it on the baby shower Wheel O' Names). For me the tie was broken by our awesome labor and delivery nurse. She was knowledgable, helpful, caring and had a great bedside manner. She refused to take her lunch break even when they offered to cover her late in her shift. She was a blessing who we could not have done without. Her name? Catherine, of course.
A few other observations from my first week as a new dad:
*Before becoming a father I would have never guessed that I would be so happy/relieved to receive a text message that read, "We have poo and pee!".
*There may be nothing sweeter in this world than the soft sigh your daughter emits as she passes out after a breast milk bender.
*If NASA used that tarry, meconium poo to attach the Space Shuttle's heat shield they would never have to worry about tiles flying off during takeoff.
*My wife's Medela breast pump is either the coolest or scariest device I've ever seen, I can't decide which. I'm convinced Medela is Latin for "robot farmer".
*When trying to sing my daughter to sleep I realized how few songs to which I actually know the words. I'm not a huge music fan and it shows. I'm happy to report that Grace was soothed by my outstanding rendition of "The Gambler" by Kenny Rogers. Good thing I know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.
Grace weighed in at a healthy 6 lbs, 6 oz and 19.5 inches. She does, however, have one small issue. She was born with a partially cleft palate; there is a small gap in the soft palate/roof of her mouth. This will require a surgical correction down the road but, fortunately, at this time it causes no major problems. We feel that if this is the worst thing that happened, we are in great shape. Otherwise, we are settling in to the happy transition at home complete with lack of sleep and dirty diapers. I wouldn't change it for anything.
Some of you may be interested in how we finally settled, after months of indecision, on the name Grace Catherine. We had narrowed the list to three-Grace Catherine(Amanda's grandmother's name), Sydney Grace (probably our favorite throughout the pregnancy) and Phoebe Grace(a late entry that didn't even make it on the baby shower Wheel O' Names). For me the tie was broken by our awesome labor and delivery nurse. She was knowledgable, helpful, caring and had a great bedside manner. She refused to take her lunch break even when they offered to cover her late in her shift. She was a blessing who we could not have done without. Her name? Catherine, of course.
A few other observations from my first week as a new dad:
*Before becoming a father I would have never guessed that I would be so happy/relieved to receive a text message that read, "We have poo and pee!".
*There may be nothing sweeter in this world than the soft sigh your daughter emits as she passes out after a breast milk bender.
*If NASA used that tarry, meconium poo to attach the Space Shuttle's heat shield they would never have to worry about tiles flying off during takeoff.
*My wife's Medela breast pump is either the coolest or scariest device I've ever seen, I can't decide which. I'm convinced Medela is Latin for "robot farmer".
*When trying to sing my daughter to sleep I realized how few songs to which I actually know the words. I'm not a huge music fan and it shows. I'm happy to report that Grace was soothed by my outstanding rendition of "The Gambler" by Kenny Rogers. Good thing I know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
My New Favorite Infomercial.
The Magic Bullet infomercial has been replaced. I stumbled across this beaut, the Flavorwave Turbo, that combines two essential ingredients for a truly great/awful infomercial-cheesy food cooking appliance and washed up celebrity pitchman. The fact that the pitchman in this case is The T makes it all the better.
"I pity the fool that don't use halogen heat, infrared waves, convention cooking all at the same time!"
"What's your prediction for all other convection ovens, Clubber? Pain!
Thud.
Okay, so that's probably not how the Capitals wanted to begin their expectations-laden regular season. Was last night's 7-4 slopfest of a loss in Atlanta a stunning example of the two major offseason concerns this team has (questionable goaltending and deciding not to sign a another top 4 defenseman)? Or was it simply a hiccup or clunker that gets thrown in from time to time, this one just happened to be opening night? I'm going with the latter. Expect good times to resume tonight with a packed Verizon Center Rocking the Red.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Jerry Jones Is Santa Claus.
High end retailer Neiman Marcus announced yesterday that in their famed Christmas catalog they will offer for sale one of the actual endzones from Texas Stadium. You can own a large (literally, it's 10 yards by 53 yards) piece of Dallas Cowboys history. I don't know where I'd put it, but how great would it be to own the actual Astroturf where Emmitt Smith dove for touchdowns, Doug Cosbie fired his imaginary six shooters and Troy Aikman was repeatedly concussed? On Friday nights when I was a child, I was allowed to stay up five minutes past the end of the "Dukes Of Hazzard" to watch the opening credits of "Dallas" just to see the overhead shot of the Cowboys' endzone. I want-no- I need this endzone.
What's that? What would I do with it?
Let's see, it would make the ultimate BBQ/game watching venue. Or perhaps the world's coolest putting green. I suppose the best way to honor the great Cowboys teams of the 90's would be to get some hookers and blow and party down. More likely I would just gaze lovingly at that big 'ol patch of fake grass.
Um, Bryan, that "big 'ol patch of fake grass" has an actual retail price of $500,000.
Oh. Perhaps I'll settle for watching the opening credits of "Dallas" on YouTube.
What's that? What would I do with it?
Let's see, it would make the ultimate BBQ/game watching venue. Or perhaps the world's coolest putting green. I suppose the best way to honor the great Cowboys teams of the 90's would be to get some hookers and blow and party down. More likely I would just gaze lovingly at that big 'ol patch of fake grass.
Um, Bryan, that "big 'ol patch of fake grass" has an actual retail price of $500,000.
Oh. Perhaps I'll settle for watching the opening credits of "Dallas" on YouTube.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Already?
Many things can make you feel old. For instance, with my daughter's birth rapidly approaching I begin to think of my own mortality. In what I figure is typical new dad anxiety, I worry about being around to love and provide for her for a long time. At almost 34, I will be an older father. Not Tony Randall or Anthony Quinn old, but 12 years older than my dad was when I was born.
My body also sometimes belies my age. My physical unfitness and creaky knee often make me feel way older than 34.
But nothing made me feel older than the lightning bolt that I recently received via the U.S. Postal Service. Mixed amidst the bills and credit card solicitations was, complete with plastic membership card, an AARP membership application. I know the AARP has stopped catering to just retired people, but I thought the membership requirement was still being over 50 years old. Have they lowered standards again? Cast a wider net to nab members earlier? Maybe they have a Psychic Recruitment Comittee that knows that some mornings I feel older than 50. Either way, it was a bit depressing to open that envelope. Okay, gotta go-I'm hungry and the Early Bird special starts in just a few minutes.
My body also sometimes belies my age. My physical unfitness and creaky knee often make me feel way older than 34.
But nothing made me feel older than the lightning bolt that I recently received via the U.S. Postal Service. Mixed amidst the bills and credit card solicitations was, complete with plastic membership card, an AARP membership application. I know the AARP has stopped catering to just retired people, but I thought the membership requirement was still being over 50 years old. Have they lowered standards again? Cast a wider net to nab members earlier? Maybe they have a Psychic Recruitment Comittee that knows that some mornings I feel older than 50. Either way, it was a bit depressing to open that envelope. Okay, gotta go-I'm hungry and the Early Bird special starts in just a few minutes.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Doggone It, You Betcha That Main Street Alaskan Mayor,Did It Didn't She. Bless Her Heart. (Wink)
So, as expected, I didn't get the gaffe-fest I was rooting for in last night's VP debate. I never thought that the VP debate would alter the outcome of the election, but I was hoping for a bit more of a needle-mover. Instead, we watched a pretty boring exchange that had nary a memorable moment that will live on in sound bite infamy. That said, I do have a few thoughts:
Sarah Palin did just fine, however, it's fairly easy to hit your mark when your mandate is "Do No Harm". Like her convention speech, there is still something in her tone that rubs me wrong; I still can't put my finger on it. It is a mix of condescension, earnestness and "See what I can do?" that when combined with her folksy familiarity irritates the heck out of me.
I've heard multiple people say this morning that Palin did a great job getting up to speed in five weeks. Granted. But is that the starting point we deserve? Wouldn't we better served by someone who doesn't have to be brought up to speed to begin with?
She was obviously well coached and as prepared as could be expected in five weeks. That's not a criticism; every candidate spends hours game-planning for these things. However, there were moments when it was obvious that she was not able (or certainly not willing) to speak off the cuff about certain subjects. She stayed tethered to her strengths and her talking points, veering back to them when she seemingly had no better answer. (Of course, I spend every debate yelling at the television for someone, anyone to please answer the question you were asked.) She used the word maverick so much I expected Dirk Nowitzki and Mark Cuban to come out dribbling a basketball across the stage. Her deft public speaking skills escaped her on meandering answers on education and climate change. Also, on more than one occasion (Healthcare and some other topic I can't recall) she had no comeback for a strong Biden point. Overall, I was less than impressed. Exactly as I expected.
I also thought Joe Biden was underwhelming. Whether it was worrying about looking too aggressive or just playing the statesman, Biden looked bored early on. He eventually hit his stride showing his experience. He was able to back up his points with numbers (though I'm not sure the numbers were always accurate) and historical reference. I also thought he was genuine when his throat caught with emotion when speaking about raising his sons. I thought his strongest moment was when he called Palin out after she claimed that McCain has an exit strategy for Iraq. As soon as she said that I thought to myself that it must be a secret plan because I've never heard McCain explain it.
Bottom line: This debate was not expected to, and will not, have a great effect on the outcome of the election. Each VP candidate was a fairly effective surrogate for the top of his or her ticket. Maybe Tuesday will bring a little more drama.
Sarah Palin did just fine, however, it's fairly easy to hit your mark when your mandate is "Do No Harm". Like her convention speech, there is still something in her tone that rubs me wrong; I still can't put my finger on it. It is a mix of condescension, earnestness and "See what I can do?" that when combined with her folksy familiarity irritates the heck out of me.
I've heard multiple people say this morning that Palin did a great job getting up to speed in five weeks. Granted. But is that the starting point we deserve? Wouldn't we better served by someone who doesn't have to be brought up to speed to begin with?
She was obviously well coached and as prepared as could be expected in five weeks. That's not a criticism; every candidate spends hours game-planning for these things. However, there were moments when it was obvious that she was not able (or certainly not willing) to speak off the cuff about certain subjects. She stayed tethered to her strengths and her talking points, veering back to them when she seemingly had no better answer. (Of course, I spend every debate yelling at the television for someone, anyone to please answer the question you were asked.) She used the word maverick so much I expected Dirk Nowitzki and Mark Cuban to come out dribbling a basketball across the stage. Her deft public speaking skills escaped her on meandering answers on education and climate change. Also, on more than one occasion (Healthcare and some other topic I can't recall) she had no comeback for a strong Biden point. Overall, I was less than impressed. Exactly as I expected.
I also thought Joe Biden was underwhelming. Whether it was worrying about looking too aggressive or just playing the statesman, Biden looked bored early on. He eventually hit his stride showing his experience. He was able to back up his points with numbers (though I'm not sure the numbers were always accurate) and historical reference. I also thought he was genuine when his throat caught with emotion when speaking about raising his sons. I thought his strongest moment was when he called Palin out after she claimed that McCain has an exit strategy for Iraq. As soon as she said that I thought to myself that it must be a secret plan because I've never heard McCain explain it.
Bottom line: This debate was not expected to, and will not, have a great effect on the outcome of the election. Each VP candidate was a fairly effective surrogate for the top of his or her ticket. Maybe Tuesday will bring a little more drama.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Let's Get Ready To Bumble!
Don't you wish booming-voiced boxing announcer Michael Buffer was available to introduce tonight's vice presidential debate?
Ladies and gentleman, welcome to tonight's main event. In this corner: weighing in with more hair than he used to- The Purveyor of Pomposity, The Vicar of Verbosity, The Amtrack Assassin, The Wilmington Windbag...Biden the Bloviator!
And in this corner: in the Tina Fey glasses-The Governor of Gaffes, The Princess of Perkiness, The Mayor of Mum, The Moose Killa from Wasila...Sarah Palin!
Like a puppy scratching at the door, I have nearly wet myself with anticipation. For me, today holds all the promise of Christmas morning, Opening Day and high school graduation rolled into one. I'm hoping tonight's two podium circus will be blunderful. I don't care which candidate it is, but I want one of them to drive this debate train right off the rails. I'm hoping for jaw-dropping, choke-on-my-popcorn, mistake-filled entertainment. This morning, in my fantasy world, Joe Biden is thumbing through foot-in-mouth recipes and Sarah Palin is applying a pageant secret Vaseline smile.
More than likely, however, Biden will stay on his leash, Palin will exceed her detractors' expectations and, like a lump of coal in my stocking or an Orioles opening day, I'll finish my day dissapointed. But a boy can dream.
Ladies and gentleman, welcome to tonight's main event. In this corner: weighing in with more hair than he used to- The Purveyor of Pomposity, The Vicar of Verbosity, The Amtrack Assassin, The Wilmington Windbag...Biden the Bloviator!
And in this corner: in the Tina Fey glasses-The Governor of Gaffes, The Princess of Perkiness, The Mayor of Mum, The Moose Killa from Wasila...Sarah Palin!
Like a puppy scratching at the door, I have nearly wet myself with anticipation. For me, today holds all the promise of Christmas morning, Opening Day and high school graduation rolled into one. I'm hoping tonight's two podium circus will be blunderful. I don't care which candidate it is, but I want one of them to drive this debate train right off the rails. I'm hoping for jaw-dropping, choke-on-my-popcorn, mistake-filled entertainment. This morning, in my fantasy world, Joe Biden is thumbing through foot-in-mouth recipes and Sarah Palin is applying a pageant secret Vaseline smile.
More than likely, however, Biden will stay on his leash, Palin will exceed her detractors' expectations and, like a lump of coal in my stocking or an Orioles opening day, I'll finish my day dissapointed. But a boy can dream.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Notes From The Recliner
*Nice to see the Caps are getting some national love. I hope they can live up to the hype.
* Meanwhile, the Dallas Cowboys had better stop believing the hype. After spending the week hearing how great they are the Cowboys got spanked at home by the Washington Redskins. Every Washington skill player outplayed their Dallas counterpart delivering steady, winning performances. Tony Romo was not sharp, the Dallas defensive line got run over, Terrell Owens was completely hamstrung by the Skins' secondary and ,inexplicably, the Cowboys seemingly refused to run the ball. After being anointed as a "beast" of a running back, Marion Barber was given eight carries. You have the biggest offensive line in the NFL and give your best back eight carries? This game was never so far out of reach that the run game needed to be abandoned in favor of deperation passing. This team has nothing to prove until January, but as strong as the NFC East is they need to make sure they don't stumble before actually reaching the playoffs.
*The Redskins are quickly becoming formidable and scary. I believe that the building blocks of a great team (confident coach, interesting gameplan, capable quarteback, grinding run game, solid defense) are now in place. I didn't think it would click in so early (I was thinking next season), but this team looks a lot like a Joe Gibbs (first stint) team that can pass to the lead and demoralize a team by running to protect a lead. I hope I'm wrong, however, I think the Redskins are poised for good things.
*My beloved Orioles sputtered and coughed their way to finishing the season with a 68-93 record. They lost 30 of their final 37 games and look every bit the team that is 25 years removed from their last World Series title.
*The officials in the NFL are taking a beating this season. There was the awful San Diego/Denver incident, then yesterday the officials missed blatant facemask and false start penalties in the Dallas/Washington game. Yesterday's calls did not affect the outcome of the game, but one wonders what game these guys are watching.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Couch Potato Time
What an incredible sports Sunday. I'm not sure which got more of a workout yesterday, the springs in my recliner or the "last channel" button on my TV remote. Given my current fitness level, I'm going to guess it was the springs. Thanks to the Ryder Cup, tons of football including two OT games and the Cowboys on Sunday Night Football and the last game ever at Yankee Stadium I stayed within listening distance of a TV for nearly twelve straight hours yesterday. I know that sounds crazy but there was plenty of compelling stuff to watch.
In my mind, there is no more entertaining golf event than the Ryder Cup. The national interest and team format makes it (to me) more exciting than even the Majors. This year was made particularly interesting as much for who was not there as for who was. No Tiger Woods for the USA and no veteran leadership (Colin Montgomerie and Darren Clark) for Europe affected each team differently. I think the US played better, more relaxed golf without Woods' giant presence looming. Woods is clearly the best golfer in the world, but rarely excels in the team format. This US team bonded and without relying on Woods or being intimidated by him played freely and with the fun spirit that Europe usually posesses.
Conversely, the Europeans looked a little lost without the veteran leadership. Nick Faldo chose to go with two younger captain's picks (One of whom, Ian Poulter, played terrific.) instead of the old vets. This forced three younger vets (Lee Westwood, Sergio Garcia and Paddy Harrington) to assume the leadership role. These players have excelled in the last three Cups, all European victories. However, I think they excelled because they were inspired by, shielded by and, somewhat, carried by the likes of Montgomerie and Clarke. This week, when asked to step up and lead, all three guys failed to win a match. The US played amazing, but don't discount the fact that they were aided by who wasn't playing at Valhalla this weekend.
One other note from the weekend: Real nice effort from my favorite ball team, the Bad News Birds, as they rolled over to be swept by the Yanks as Yankee Stadium turned out the lights for the final time. Yankee Pride appears alive and well; maybe some of it can rub off on the Orioles.
In my mind, there is no more entertaining golf event than the Ryder Cup. The national interest and team format makes it (to me) more exciting than even the Majors. This year was made particularly interesting as much for who was not there as for who was. No Tiger Woods for the USA and no veteran leadership (Colin Montgomerie and Darren Clark) for Europe affected each team differently. I think the US played better, more relaxed golf without Woods' giant presence looming. Woods is clearly the best golfer in the world, but rarely excels in the team format. This US team bonded and without relying on Woods or being intimidated by him played freely and with the fun spirit that Europe usually posesses.
Conversely, the Europeans looked a little lost without the veteran leadership. Nick Faldo chose to go with two younger captain's picks (One of whom, Ian Poulter, played terrific.) instead of the old vets. This forced three younger vets (Lee Westwood, Sergio Garcia and Paddy Harrington) to assume the leadership role. These players have excelled in the last three Cups, all European victories. However, I think they excelled because they were inspired by, shielded by and, somewhat, carried by the likes of Montgomerie and Clarke. This week, when asked to step up and lead, all three guys failed to win a match. The US played amazing, but don't discount the fact that they were aided by who wasn't playing at Valhalla this weekend.
One other note from the weekend: Real nice effort from my favorite ball team, the Bad News Birds, as they rolled over to be swept by the Yanks as Yankee Stadium turned out the lights for the final time. Yankee Pride appears alive and well; maybe some of it can rub off on the Orioles.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Further Proof I'm An Idiot.
I've long realized that as I child of the 70's and 80's I am deeply immersed in the pop culture of the era. I recently realized just how deeply it is embedded in my subconscious when within minutes I whistled the "CHiPs" theme song as I entered the freeway via a cloverleaf (a la the show's opening sequence) and counted down a stoplight changing to green with the "Beep. Beep. Boooop." sound effects from Pole Position. Some things never leave you, even if you wish they would.
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
That Whistling Sound You Hear?
That whistling sound you hear? That's the sound of thousands of fantasy football owners plunging towards the earth after leaping from tall buildings following the news that Tom Brady had season-ending knee surgery yesterday. Fantasy football is supposedly a $500 million business (not sure of the source or its accuracy). Surely those owners who drafted Brady, as close to a sure bet there is if he remains healthy, can feel winnings slipping through their fingers already.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
"You just called another man baby."
Quoting my wife making fun of me for exhorting Cowboys tight end Jason Witten to "Go, baby!" after he made a reception.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
McCain's speech wazzzzz...
Excuse me while I wipe the drool from my pillow. Being a dynamic speaker does not make you a good president and failing to be a great speaker does not disqualify you from being president. But damn.
The one thing he did effectively was carefully separate himself from the failures of the last eight years. We'll see if he can make that stick.
The one thing he did effectively was carefully separate himself from the failures of the last eight years. We'll see if he can make that stick.
A Few Thoughts On The Republican Convention.
Did you know John McCain was a a war hero? I think I heard that somewhere the last couple nights.
For my money, Mike Huckabee is still the best speaker the Republicans have.
Shocking I know, but hypocrisy in politics and media is alive and well. The same Republican pundits who bemoan Obama's "celebrity" are crowing about Sarah Palin and announcing that "A star is born." And I didn't hear the slimy Rudy Giuliani slapping around the "liberal media" when they were slurping up to him, crowning him "America's Mayor".
Palin can crack wise all she wants about hauling away the Greek columns from Obama's stadium stage, but anybody with a brain understands that all politics at this level is carefully orchestrated, focus group-tested theatrical stagecraft. Let's be real.
Note to Fred Thompson-I don't care if the Vice President of the United States can field dress a moose.
I suspect I'm in the minority here, but I did not like the tone of Sarah Palin's speech. Yeah, she did what she needed to do and certianly performed well in her first time on the big stage. I liked her introduction to her family and her story. However, I thought the parts that were supposed to prove she is tough as nails came off as sarcastic and condascending. (And I love to employ sarcasm.)
I'm already sick of the phrase "heartbeat away from the presidency."
I found one line of her speech particulary interesting-"Al Qaeda terrorists still plot to inflict catastrophic harm on America, and he's worried that someone won't read them their rights."
Were I a reporter, I could ask her or McCain's people exactly what they meant by that statement. I read it to mean that Obama is more worried about terror suspects having rights and being treated humanely while being detained than about whether any info is extracted. Don't you think John McCain would have loved to have been read rights,treated humanely and protected from toture during captivity? Just asking.
Finally, as someone who is a fan of this political game and as someone who has not decided where his vote will land, I think this race just got very interesting. If nothing else, it should be a fun two months.
For my money, Mike Huckabee is still the best speaker the Republicans have.
Shocking I know, but hypocrisy in politics and media is alive and well. The same Republican pundits who bemoan Obama's "celebrity" are crowing about Sarah Palin and announcing that "A star is born." And I didn't hear the slimy Rudy Giuliani slapping around the "liberal media" when they were slurping up to him, crowning him "America's Mayor".
Palin can crack wise all she wants about hauling away the Greek columns from Obama's stadium stage, but anybody with a brain understands that all politics at this level is carefully orchestrated, focus group-tested theatrical stagecraft. Let's be real.
Note to Fred Thompson-I don't care if the Vice President of the United States can field dress a moose.
I suspect I'm in the minority here, but I did not like the tone of Sarah Palin's speech. Yeah, she did what she needed to do and certianly performed well in her first time on the big stage. I liked her introduction to her family and her story. However, I thought the parts that were supposed to prove she is tough as nails came off as sarcastic and condascending. (And I love to employ sarcasm.)
I'm already sick of the phrase "heartbeat away from the presidency."
I found one line of her speech particulary interesting-"Al Qaeda terrorists still plot to inflict catastrophic harm on America, and he's worried that someone won't read them their rights."
Were I a reporter, I could ask her or McCain's people exactly what they meant by that statement. I read it to mean that Obama is more worried about terror suspects having rights and being treated humanely while being detained than about whether any info is extracted. Don't you think John McCain would have loved to have been read rights,treated humanely and protected from toture during captivity? Just asking.
Finally, as someone who is a fan of this political game and as someone who has not decided where his vote will land, I think this race just got very interesting. If nothing else, it should be a fun two months.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
An Exhibition Not A Competition, So Please, Please No Wagering.
Though I don't usually make sports prognostications, I thought I would make some NFL predictions this year. Instead of just picking season records for each team without looking at the schedule, I went through the schedule and predicted each game. That left me with, what I think are, more realistic results. Some of the records I came up with really surprised me. I could be way wrong, but the NFL always has at least one surprise team so maybe I won't be as wrong as I think. I'll pick my Super Bowl champ too, but I'll probably make real playoff predictions come January. (Full disclosure- the Cowboys are my favorite team and I despise the Eagles and Redskins.)
AFC East
Pats 14-2, Bills 12-4, Jets 10-6, Dolphins 2-14
AFC South
Colts 11-5, Jaguars 11-5, Titans 9-7, Texans 8-8
AFC North
Steelers 9-7, Bengals 7-9, Browns 6-10, Ravens 3-13
AFC West
Chargers 10-6, Broncos 6-10, Raiders 4-12, Chiefs 4-12
Playoff teams-Pats, Colts, Chargers, Steelers, Jags, Bills
NFC East
Cowboys 12-4, Eagles 12-4, Redskins 10-6, Giants 9-7
NFC South
Panthers 14-2, Saints 9-7, Bucs 8-8, Falcons 4-12
NFC North
Vikings 10-6, Packers 9-7, Bears 6-10, Lions 3-13
NFC West
Seahawks 10-6, Rams 5-11, Cardinals 4-12, 49ers 4-12
Playoff teams-Cowboys, Vikings, Panthers, Seahawks, Eagles, Redskins
Super Bowl Prediction- Colts over Eagles
The highlights:
*Every team in the NFC East, except the defending Super Bowl champ Giants, will make the playoffs.
*Brett Favre will help the Jets improve greatly, but not enough to make the playoffs.
*The Packers, with Aaron Rogers in place of Brett Favre, will have a decent but far worse season than last year.
*The Panthers (I can't believe I came up with a 14-2 record) will have the best record in the NFC, but will not be the best team.
*The Bills will surprise everyone by making a deep playoff run.
AFC East
Pats 14-2, Bills 12-4, Jets 10-6, Dolphins 2-14
AFC South
Colts 11-5, Jaguars 11-5, Titans 9-7, Texans 8-8
AFC North
Steelers 9-7, Bengals 7-9, Browns 6-10, Ravens 3-13
AFC West
Chargers 10-6, Broncos 6-10, Raiders 4-12, Chiefs 4-12
Playoff teams-Pats, Colts, Chargers, Steelers, Jags, Bills
NFC East
Cowboys 12-4, Eagles 12-4, Redskins 10-6, Giants 9-7
NFC South
Panthers 14-2, Saints 9-7, Bucs 8-8, Falcons 4-12
NFC North
Vikings 10-6, Packers 9-7, Bears 6-10, Lions 3-13
NFC West
Seahawks 10-6, Rams 5-11, Cardinals 4-12, 49ers 4-12
Playoff teams-Cowboys, Vikings, Panthers, Seahawks, Eagles, Redskins
Super Bowl Prediction- Colts over Eagles
The highlights:
*Every team in the NFC East, except the defending Super Bowl champ Giants, will make the playoffs.
*Brett Favre will help the Jets improve greatly, but not enough to make the playoffs.
*The Packers, with Aaron Rogers in place of Brett Favre, will have a decent but far worse season than last year.
*The Panthers (I can't believe I came up with a 14-2 record) will have the best record in the NFC, but will not be the best team.
*The Bills will surprise everyone by making a deep playoff run.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Election Headquarters
Forget Denver and St. Paul, I've found a better spot to find all my Campiagn '08 gear: Mos Eisley spaceport. Check out these funny Star Wars "election" items.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Preseason Prattle.
A few observations from last night's Redskins-Jags game:
1) Sitting in the second row, in the shadow of the goalpost does not suck. (Thanks Cousin.)
2) The Wave never gets old. Well, as a stadium phenomenon year after year that is. After ten laps around the stadium it certainly gets old.
3) Free hot dogs are the tastiest hotdogs.
4) Overheard in the row in front of us: While referring to Redskins rookie running back Marcus Mason-The future! That's the future! That's like watchin' The Matrix, man!
1) Sitting in the second row, in the shadow of the goalpost does not suck. (Thanks Cousin.)
2) The Wave never gets old. Well, as a stadium phenomenon year after year that is. After ten laps around the stadium it certainly gets old.
3) Free hot dogs are the tastiest hotdogs.
4) Overheard in the row in front of us: While referring to Redskins rookie running back Marcus Mason-The future! That's the future! That's like watchin' The Matrix, man!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Pipe Down, Stranger.
I've previously written that my wife calls me The World's Youngest Curmudgeon and she'll probably reach for that nickname again after reading this post. Today's problem is strangers who find it neccessary to make small talk. The barber, the parents waiting in the school parking lot for their kids, the people in the elevator all feel the need to make awkward stabs at filling dead air. Why? Did I unwittingly sign a social compact requiring me to partake in this mindless chitchat? For some, uncomfortable silences are comfortable. I wear uncomfortable silences like a worn, old sweatshirt that feels so soft as it warms me from the autumn chill of unwanted social interaction.
I don't despise small talk because I'm impolite. In fact, I took a long walk through Downtown Annapolis last week and nodded towards, smiled at or said "Good Morning" to nearly everyone I passed. I despise small talk because I don't care where the lady cutting my hair went to high school and it's none of her business what I do for a living. I despise it because I don't know how to answer the question-"What about that Gustav, huh?" (Well, I hope it swells to a Category 5 and drowns thousands. What do you expect me to say sir? Of course I hope it dissipates before becoming even deadlier.) I despise small talk because I am shy and socially awkward and sometimes don't know what to say (sometimes even with family and friends).
For the record, in this post I am talking about passing strangers who I will see for fleeting moments. When introduced to a new group that will require constant interaction, be it work, a new class, etc, I try to be social and have been fortunate to make lifelong friends along the way.
I'm sure that shunning interaction with strangers will lead to me missing out on something. Maybe the barber lady has season tickets to the Washington Caps and is looking to unload some tickets. Maybe one of the dads in the parking lot has a mint condition Hasbro Millenium Falcon and would want to hang out and show me his toy collection. I'll never know. But I'm okay with that because more than likely she'll just say something like "How about this heat?".
I don't despise small talk because I'm impolite. In fact, I took a long walk through Downtown Annapolis last week and nodded towards, smiled at or said "Good Morning" to nearly everyone I passed. I despise small talk because I don't care where the lady cutting my hair went to high school and it's none of her business what I do for a living. I despise it because I don't know how to answer the question-"What about that Gustav, huh?" (Well, I hope it swells to a Category 5 and drowns thousands. What do you expect me to say sir? Of course I hope it dissipates before becoming even deadlier.) I despise small talk because I am shy and socially awkward and sometimes don't know what to say (sometimes even with family and friends).
For the record, in this post I am talking about passing strangers who I will see for fleeting moments. When introduced to a new group that will require constant interaction, be it work, a new class, etc, I try to be social and have been fortunate to make lifelong friends along the way.
I'm sure that shunning interaction with strangers will lead to me missing out on something. Maybe the barber lady has season tickets to the Washington Caps and is looking to unload some tickets. Maybe one of the dads in the parking lot has a mint condition Hasbro Millenium Falcon and would want to hang out and show me his toy collection. I'll never know. But I'm okay with that because more than likely she'll just say something like "How about this heat?".
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The Wussification Of America Continues.
I'm no macho man. In fact, I'm kind of a wimp. As a kid I was a shy, introverted scaredy-cat. I'd like to think, however, that I have enough grit to teach my soon-to-arrive daughter that sometimes you have to face a challenge head-on instead of running away. I will tell her that you won't always be successful, but that sometimes failure helps you learn. I certainly hope I teach her to try. Unlike the league administrators and parents in New Haven, Connecticut who have banned a nine-year-old boy from pitching in his youth baseball league because he throws too hard and his team is too good. Full story from ESPN here.
Throws too hard? To me it's as simple as this- if he is of an eligible age (and he is, the league is 8-10) then he should be allowed to play. Baseball, at any level, can be dangerous. A flung bat, crashing outfielders, and a hit back through the box can bruise, maim and even kill. That is why players are equipped with helmets, catching gear and, at this age level, softer balls that cause less damage than traditional baseballs. If parents are so afraid for their child's safety then they should keep them on the sidelines.
My real beef with this ruling is that it appears, according to other reports I've read and heard, to be driven by parental complaints that Jericho Scott pitching too hard is not fair to their kids. Scott hits 40mph on the radar gun. I don't know what that equates to for an adult and I don't care because it is irrelevant. If your kid can't hit Scott's fastball help him practice to be a better hitter. Don't tell him that we'll eliminate the tough challenge so you don't have to face it. Not everything will come easy.
As a seven-year-old ball player I struck out a lot and was hit by the ball far more often than I hit it. (Seriously, I sucked.) There was a dominant pitcher who nobody wanted to face because he was so good and it hurt so bad when he unintentionally drilled you in the back. Yet nobody suggested he play second base instead of pitch. Should Michael Jordan have been forced to play with one hand tied behind his back because, gosh, with two hands he is so much better than everyone else? Of course not.
These are the same parents who would come into Barnes and Noble and request the shortest book on their kid's summer reading list because, "My kid will never read anything that thick." Yeah, To Kill A Mockingbird will be so taxing. Wouldn't want it to get in the way of all the X Box playing. Are you going to write the paper for them too? I have worked with teens and college students that evidently have parents who heap the praise by the bucketload. I'm all for being supportive and building self-esteem. However,I shouldn't, as a manager, have to pat you on the head and give you a cookie everytime you complete the most mundane and routine of tasks that, oh by the way, we are paying you to complete.
I have a news flash for these parents: Some kids are smarter than yours. Some kids are better singers than yours. And some kids can hit the fastball better than yours. You know what? That's okay. Instead of crying about it, or worse yet not believing it, help your child learn, grow, improve in whatever they do. Support them without coddling them. Teach them without knocking down every hurdle before they reach it. Because in real life people keep score.
Throws too hard? To me it's as simple as this- if he is of an eligible age (and he is, the league is 8-10) then he should be allowed to play. Baseball, at any level, can be dangerous. A flung bat, crashing outfielders, and a hit back through the box can bruise, maim and even kill. That is why players are equipped with helmets, catching gear and, at this age level, softer balls that cause less damage than traditional baseballs. If parents are so afraid for their child's safety then they should keep them on the sidelines.
My real beef with this ruling is that it appears, according to other reports I've read and heard, to be driven by parental complaints that Jericho Scott pitching too hard is not fair to their kids. Scott hits 40mph on the radar gun. I don't know what that equates to for an adult and I don't care because it is irrelevant. If your kid can't hit Scott's fastball help him practice to be a better hitter. Don't tell him that we'll eliminate the tough challenge so you don't have to face it. Not everything will come easy.
As a seven-year-old ball player I struck out a lot and was hit by the ball far more often than I hit it. (Seriously, I sucked.) There was a dominant pitcher who nobody wanted to face because he was so good and it hurt so bad when he unintentionally drilled you in the back. Yet nobody suggested he play second base instead of pitch. Should Michael Jordan have been forced to play with one hand tied behind his back because, gosh, with two hands he is so much better than everyone else? Of course not.
These are the same parents who would come into Barnes and Noble and request the shortest book on their kid's summer reading list because, "My kid will never read anything that thick." Yeah, To Kill A Mockingbird will be so taxing. Wouldn't want it to get in the way of all the X Box playing. Are you going to write the paper for them too? I have worked with teens and college students that evidently have parents who heap the praise by the bucketload. I'm all for being supportive and building self-esteem. However,I shouldn't, as a manager, have to pat you on the head and give you a cookie everytime you complete the most mundane and routine of tasks that, oh by the way, we are paying you to complete.
I have a news flash for these parents: Some kids are smarter than yours. Some kids are better singers than yours. And some kids can hit the fastball better than yours. You know what? That's okay. Instead of crying about it, or worse yet not believing it, help your child learn, grow, improve in whatever they do. Support them without coddling them. Teach them without knocking down every hurdle before they reach it. Because in real life people keep score.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Blessed Be The Speechwriters.
I'm not a Democrat, I'm not sure where my vote will be cast in November, and I'm certainly no fan of the Clintons. But I am a fan of great speechwriting and I enjoyed Hilary's speech tonight. Inspirational, unifying and filled with some great lines, that was one helluva a performance. In fact, if Hilary had given more speeches like that during the primaries she would likely be addressing the convention Thursday night instead of tonight. A mighty tip of the cap to whoever wrote this one.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
A Few Photos
I try not to take for granted the fact that I live so close to Washington DC. Many people never get to see our nation's capital or make it a once in a lifetime trip. I'm an American history buff that still doesn't take full advantage of the proximity. Here's a few photos form our trip a couple weeks ago.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Not Long Ago In Theater Near, Near To Me.
I finally made it see the Star Wars:Clone Wars cartoon today. (I was surprised when it was sold out Friday.) Prior to seeing it I had jumbled thoughts about the flick. I wanted to love it, but assumed it would dissapoint the fan in me. I worried that this was a movie that would be better served existing solely as an idea or two minute trailer.
The low expectations I carried into the theater were not exactly exceeded as the movie started. I already knew that with Warner Bros., not Twentieth Century Fox, distributing the movie there would be no Fox drumbeat and fanfare that usually brings goosebumps as it signals the start of a Star Wars flick. I was dissapointed, however, when there was no golden, exposition-setting crawl fading off into outer space. Instead, we got a quick voiceover setup from an announcer with a gameshow style, "Johnny, tell him what he's won..." voice. That and a remixed(?) theme song had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Thank goodness it got better from there.
This movie itself is by no measure great, but it did exceed my tamped down expectations. Like in the prequels, the story is thin and the dialouge is brutal. There are other lesser dissapointments that threatened to sink the pic. The human characters look pretty cheesy. Although, the cartoon Anakin may be less wooden than Hayden Christiansen's portrayal. There is not nearly enough Mace Windu (considering the awesomeness of his previous two minute Clone Wars cartoon short and that they actually had Sam Jackson doing the voice). And there is a Hutt character that not only is a waste of a plot point that really isn't neccesary to advance the story, but is also a pretty bad stereotype. I know there is a better comparison that is currently eluding me so, for now, think Rerun from "What's Happening".
I did say I actually liked the movie, right? Here's why. Besides the poorly animated human faces, which are great for Madden '08 but bad for a cartoon that has as touchstones six movies starring real humans, the movie looks fantastic. There is a particularly visually stunning laser battle that unfolds vertically on a sheer cliff face. The machines, aliens, and especially the clone troopers, all look excellent. The space battles are cool, as are the lightsaber duels. This movie may dissapoint hard core fans, but it will join the other six movies on my DVD shelf. That's because it contains enough to remind me why I love Star Wars- it stirs the imagination and, for two hours, transports me to a galaxy far, far away.
The low expectations I carried into the theater were not exactly exceeded as the movie started. I already knew that with Warner Bros., not Twentieth Century Fox, distributing the movie there would be no Fox drumbeat and fanfare that usually brings goosebumps as it signals the start of a Star Wars flick. I was dissapointed, however, when there was no golden, exposition-setting crawl fading off into outer space. Instead, we got a quick voiceover setup from an announcer with a gameshow style, "Johnny, tell him what he's won..." voice. That and a remixed(?) theme song had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Thank goodness it got better from there.
This movie itself is by no measure great, but it did exceed my tamped down expectations. Like in the prequels, the story is thin and the dialouge is brutal. There are other lesser dissapointments that threatened to sink the pic. The human characters look pretty cheesy. Although, the cartoon Anakin may be less wooden than Hayden Christiansen's portrayal. There is not nearly enough Mace Windu (considering the awesomeness of his previous two minute Clone Wars cartoon short and that they actually had Sam Jackson doing the voice). And there is a Hutt character that not only is a waste of a plot point that really isn't neccesary to advance the story, but is also a pretty bad stereotype. I know there is a better comparison that is currently eluding me so, for now, think Rerun from "What's Happening".
I did say I actually liked the movie, right? Here's why. Besides the poorly animated human faces, which are great for Madden '08 but bad for a cartoon that has as touchstones six movies starring real humans, the movie looks fantastic. There is a particularly visually stunning laser battle that unfolds vertically on a sheer cliff face. The machines, aliens, and especially the clone troopers, all look excellent. The space battles are cool, as are the lightsaber duels. This movie may dissapoint hard core fans, but it will join the other six movies on my DVD shelf. That's because it contains enough to remind me why I love Star Wars- it stirs the imagination and, for two hours, transports me to a galaxy far, far away.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Pain(t) In The Butt.
I suppose there are many milestones as new parents await the arrival of their child including the first sonogram, assembling the crib, the baby shower,etc. I am genuinely excited about all of them, save one-painting the baby's room. You see, on my Scale of Unpleasant Things painting ranks somewhere between single-ply toilet paper (senseless!) and people who refer to themselves in the third person (insufferable!). And equal to people who carelessly overuse exclamation marks while blogging (annoying!!!). So with my negative build-up it is little wonder that I have had a rough time completing this important task. My mom even volunteered to help me because she enjoys painting. Seriously. I'm convinced she was afraid I would half-ass the job.
We are going with a jungle theme in the nursery and have purchased a cute set bedding set that includes a wallpaper border. We decided to place the border at chair rail height and paint the walls below it a green to match the green in the border. Trouble is, the manufacturer of the border apparently invented a new color green for this particular border. Because I can't find a green paint to match. ANYWHERE. I have multiple sample cards from several paint stores. Granny Smith? Too light. Pepper Grass? Too dark. Green Grapes? Too grapey.
Actually, let me backtrack. On my first attempt I actually bought a gallon of paint. Under the flourescent lights of the hardware store Riverview looked like a winner. On the walls of the nursery, however, Riverview looks, perhaps ironically, but not amusingly, like babyshit green. Amanda and my mom thought this was pretty funny because a blind man could have picked a better match for the border. I protested about the flourescent lights, but they weren't buying it. Mom and I then selected samples from a different store. None matched perfectly, but appeared to be in the right neighborhood. Until we got outside in the sunshine. Out of the flourescent light they weren't even close to matching. My mom said she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't been there herself. It was some vindication for my earlier miscue, but little consolation because I still don't have any paint. Tomorrow Amanda and I will venture out to try again. Given my recent paint history, I'm betting tomorrow will be a doozy.
We are going with a jungle theme in the nursery and have purchased a cute set bedding set that includes a wallpaper border. We decided to place the border at chair rail height and paint the walls below it a green to match the green in the border. Trouble is, the manufacturer of the border apparently invented a new color green for this particular border. Because I can't find a green paint to match. ANYWHERE. I have multiple sample cards from several paint stores. Granny Smith? Too light. Pepper Grass? Too dark. Green Grapes? Too grapey.
Actually, let me backtrack. On my first attempt I actually bought a gallon of paint. Under the flourescent lights of the hardware store Riverview looked like a winner. On the walls of the nursery, however, Riverview looks, perhaps ironically, but not amusingly, like babyshit green. Amanda and my mom thought this was pretty funny because a blind man could have picked a better match for the border. I protested about the flourescent lights, but they weren't buying it. Mom and I then selected samples from a different store. None matched perfectly, but appeared to be in the right neighborhood. Until we got outside in the sunshine. Out of the flourescent light they weren't even close to matching. My mom said she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't been there herself. It was some vindication for my earlier miscue, but little consolation because I still don't have any paint. Tomorrow Amanda and I will venture out to try again. Given my recent paint history, I'm betting tomorrow will be a doozy.
$200 of Crap Is Still Crap.
While flipping channels I passed an infomercial for the amazing Slendertone Belt that effortlessly contracts your flabby tummy to six-pack sexiness. Who buys this stuff? Wait, I answered my own question. It's the same gullible dopes who think those Bigfoot guys in Georgia are for real and who think they are going to pay for their kid's college education with their mass-produced action figure collection and twelve Albert Pujols rookie cards.
Memo to these lazy exercisophobes: There are no shortcuts. Even if the "Electro Muscle Stimulation" does work as advertised (the technology is used successfully in physical rehab centers) your best case scenario is harder abs hidden under your belly fat. I imagine buried somewhere amidst the testimonials and discount prices you can find the truth-telling fine print about varying results and best results accompanying a balanced diet and steady exercise. Duh. Now if you'll excuse me it's time for my Thighmaster workout.
Memo to these lazy exercisophobes: There are no shortcuts. Even if the "Electro Muscle Stimulation" does work as advertised (the technology is used successfully in physical rehab centers) your best case scenario is harder abs hidden under your belly fat. I imagine buried somewhere amidst the testimonials and discount prices you can find the truth-telling fine print about varying results and best results accompanying a balanced diet and steady exercise. Duh. Now if you'll excuse me it's time for my Thighmaster workout.
We Interrupt This Broadcast...
I'm pretty sure World's Biggest Windbag Joe Thiesmann just had an on-air, in-booth orgasm when Brett Favre took the field for the Jets. It's gonna be a long season.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Sophisticated Kids.
A scary story in yesterday's Washington Post about an 18-year-old Montgomery County, MD resident and his 17-year-old accomplice who have been found to be stashing assault weapons, armor piercing bullets and, oh yeah, a map of presidential retreat Camp David that includes a motorcade route.
"Police investigating a teenager accused of bomb-making and weapons violations found a map of Camp David with a presidential motorcade route in his home, a Montgomery County prosecutor said.
Collin McKenzie-Gude, 18, of Bethesda, also had a document that appears to describe how to kill someone 200 meters away, Montgomery Assistant State's Attorney Peter A. Feeney said.
The teen had two forms of fake identification _ one portraying him as a Central Intelligence Agency employee and another as a federal contractor, Feeney said. The details were revealed Tuesday in a bond hearing in the case, The Washington Post reported...
Authorities said they found 50 pounds of chemicals, assault-style weapons and armor-piercing bullets in his home. The investigation has expanded to include the CIA, FBI and Secret Service. "
I'm not going to turn this into a "What the hell is wrong with people?" rant. I'm not naive enough to think that there are not evil young people smart and devious enough to plot and execute a diabolical plan; Columbine and Virginia Tech hammered these points home long ago. I do, however, wonder what he was actually up to. Was a true home-grown terrorist plot thwarted? Or was he just a punk kid playing a little over his head. And I do wonder about his father who, allegedly, helped his son acquire some of the weapons. Jesus, when I was eighteen, the most complex and diabolical plans my friends and I tried to hatch were scoring beer and toilet papering buddies' cars without getting caught.
"Police investigating a teenager accused of bomb-making and weapons violations found a map of Camp David with a presidential motorcade route in his home, a Montgomery County prosecutor said.
Collin McKenzie-Gude, 18, of Bethesda, also had a document that appears to describe how to kill someone 200 meters away, Montgomery Assistant State's Attorney Peter A. Feeney said.
The teen had two forms of fake identification _ one portraying him as a Central Intelligence Agency employee and another as a federal contractor, Feeney said. The details were revealed Tuesday in a bond hearing in the case, The Washington Post reported...
Authorities said they found 50 pounds of chemicals, assault-style weapons and armor-piercing bullets in his home. The investigation has expanded to include the CIA, FBI and Secret Service. "
I'm not going to turn this into a "What the hell is wrong with people?" rant. I'm not naive enough to think that there are not evil young people smart and devious enough to plot and execute a diabolical plan; Columbine and Virginia Tech hammered these points home long ago. I do, however, wonder what he was actually up to. Was a true home-grown terrorist plot thwarted? Or was he just a punk kid playing a little over his head. And I do wonder about his father who, allegedly, helped his son acquire some of the weapons. Jesus, when I was eighteen, the most complex and diabolical plans my friends and I tried to hatch were scoring beer and toilet papering buddies' cars without getting caught.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
"Deltoids of Compassion"
Big thanks to St4rbux for recommending Dr. Horrible . This web musical stars Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion (from Firefly) as a not-so-successful supervillian and his hero counterpart. Yeah, its a musical, but you'll be laughing so hard at the lyrics, stupid costumes, and bad character names that you won't care. Funny, funny stuff. It reminds me in a lot of ways of Austin Grossman's novel Soon I Will Be Invincible, which is told from the dual perspectives of an always-thwarted evil supergenius and a superheroine trying to crack into the big leagues of superherodom. It's funny and purposely filled with superhero cliches. I have a feeling anybody that has seen/read one of these will like the other. Thanks St4rbux, because with joining Netflix and discovering the wonder of OnDemand, I really didn't need any more media entertainment options.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
"Somebody Open A Window, I'm Firing Up The Hibachi."
In our continuing preparation for the arrival of Baby Girl Hailey, tonight we took a tour of the labor and delivery pavilion at Anne Arundel Medical Center. They talk about protocols, visitor procedure, show you the delivery rooms, etc. All in all, very informative and worthwhile. Especially the part when our tour guide showed us the area where refreshments were kept for the expectant moms. Our guide, lamenting the fact that these refreshments were for moms only, suggested that expectant dads bring a cooler from home fully stocked with sodas and sandwiches for the long haul. What I heard? HOSPITAL SANCTIONED TAILGATING as I await the birth of our daughter.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
A "Gamble" I Don't Think I Can Make.
A few days ago, in response to my brief post lamenting the dearth of quality presidential candidates, St4rbux suggested Bob Barr as a posssible alternative. So I checked http://www.bobbarr2008.com/ for some info knowing that he is libertarian and that, therefore, I would likely favor some of his positions. I found that I do agree with Bob Barr on many issues and disagree on others. Of course, this is normal; it's unlikely that I would ever completely agree with any candidate on every issue. So I'm thinking that maybe I can vote for this guy. It wouldn't just be a protest vote "against" the major party candidates, but instead a vote for somebody I can believe in.
Then I looked a little closer at his vice presidential running mate, Mr Wayne Allyn Root. Where have I heard that name before? More accurately, where have I heard Mr. Root's voice before, introducing himself somewhere over the airwaves? I couldn't put my finger on it until Google and Wiki shed some light. Oh, yeah. Wayne Allyn Root is, among other (some even noble) things, a loud, self-promoting gambling and sports betting handicapper. For many years I've heard his commercials on sports talk radio touting his amazing sports prognostications. I don't think I can vote for a vice presidential candidate that calls himself the King of Vegas and shouts about over/unders and the morning line. What, Art Schlichter wasn't available? Who is in line to be chief of staff, disgraced NBA ref Tim Donaghy? Mr. Root, if I need some info on the best three-team parlay for the opening NFL weekend, you're my guy. A heartbeat away from the Oval Office? Not so much.
So, I'm back to square one. Vote for the candidate of change? Vote for John Mccain, he of the campaign that has an advisor that today said "John McCain does not speak for the McCain campaign"? Vote for Barr just because he is somebody different even though I can't back his VP? Not Vote? Of course, I can always do what I did in 2004-write in dear old dad.
Then I looked a little closer at his vice presidential running mate, Mr Wayne Allyn Root. Where have I heard that name before? More accurately, where have I heard Mr. Root's voice before, introducing himself somewhere over the airwaves? I couldn't put my finger on it until Google and Wiki shed some light. Oh, yeah. Wayne Allyn Root is, among other (some even noble) things, a loud, self-promoting gambling and sports betting handicapper. For many years I've heard his commercials on sports talk radio touting his amazing sports prognostications. I don't think I can vote for a vice presidential candidate that calls himself the King of Vegas and shouts about over/unders and the morning line. What, Art Schlichter wasn't available? Who is in line to be chief of staff, disgraced NBA ref Tim Donaghy? Mr. Root, if I need some info on the best three-team parlay for the opening NFL weekend, you're my guy. A heartbeat away from the Oval Office? Not so much.
So, I'm back to square one. Vote for the candidate of change? Vote for John Mccain, he of the campaign that has an advisor that today said "John McCain does not speak for the McCain campaign"? Vote for Barr just because he is somebody different even though I can't back his VP? Not Vote? Of course, I can always do what I did in 2004-write in dear old dad.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
An Endorsement, Perhaps Gross, But An Endorsement Nonetheless.
Like finally trying Chipotle, I have once again purchased a product that I should have purchased long ago. This product? None other than this generation's "underwear that's fun to wear": Under Armour Boxerjocks (I know, ridiculous name). This stuff isn't just for athletes. Now, I'm not decked out head to toe in their gear, but the underwear is great.
Stay with me here, I'll try to explain their greatness without being too graphic. As any guy knows steamy summer days can leave things awfully sticky/sloppy "down there". And when things get sticky/sloppy a certain amount of "rubbing/chafing" can occur. It's even more uncomfortable for fat guys who tend to, as David Letterman says, make their own gravy on a hot day. (If you are still reading, trust me, I thought about vetoing this post in favor of good taste, but ah, you know me.)
Anyway, you can kiss these maladies goodbye thanks to these boxers and their Performance Pouch Technology, strategic ventilation and anti-microbial technology. (Under Armour's copy writers must have a blast coming up with these goofy labels and advertising.) To borrow from their tagline "We Must Protect This House"-Now "down there" I am dry, airy and, most definitely, "protected".
Stay with me here, I'll try to explain their greatness without being too graphic. As any guy knows steamy summer days can leave things awfully sticky/sloppy "down there". And when things get sticky/sloppy a certain amount of "rubbing/chafing" can occur. It's even more uncomfortable for fat guys who tend to, as David Letterman says, make their own gravy on a hot day. (If you are still reading, trust me, I thought about vetoing this post in favor of good taste, but ah, you know me.)
Anyway, you can kiss these maladies goodbye thanks to these boxers and their Performance Pouch Technology, strategic ventilation and anti-microbial technology. (Under Armour's copy writers must have a blast coming up with these goofy labels and advertising.) To borrow from their tagline "We Must Protect This House"-Now "down there" I am dry, airy and, most definitely, "protected".
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Dark Knight-No Spoilers
I have the good fortune of being on semi-vacation this week so this morning I donned my cape and pointy-eared cowl and headed for the movie theater. I'm kidding, of course, about wearing a costume, in fact there was a surprising dearth of Batman memoribilia (and sadly, deodorant) in the theater this morning. I love that Batman plays to such a wide demographic. There were teens, older couples and the requisite guys in ponytails and GWAR t-shirts. Fortunately, there were very few children present; this is no way a kid's movie.
It is, however, a dark, brooding violence-filled thriller that banishes West, Keaton, Kilmer and Clooney to some distant Home for Inferior Batmen. And this isn't neccesarily because Christian Bale is better as Batman (though he is), because I loved Michael Keaton's version. It's more about the movie having a tone that none of the others tried to reach. This movie deals more with how Bruce Wayne/Batman reconciles his vigilante duty and Bale is up to the task. The movie is a bit long and dragged down slightly by its bloated narrative, but for the most part it is a bleak and relentless attack on the senses. You get your gadgets, your fistfights, your explosions, your high drama, your soaring orchestral score and, of course, your Joker.
I scoffed when people said Heath Ledger would probably be nominated for an Oscar for his performance, writing it off as hype and sentimentality because of his passing. I may have to recant those scoffs. Ledger's Joker may not posthumously win an Oscar, but he goes down in my book as the second greatest (or should it be worst?) villian in cinema history behind only Hannibal Lechter. (Though I haven't seen No Country for Old Men.) This Joker is funny, intense, violent, intelligent and creepy without being at all over the top. Forget Jack Nicholson, this is the iconic Joker performance. The Joker and Batman have a five minute encounter 2/3 of the way through the movie that is worth the price of admission. Intense and, on a certain level, scary it made me wonder to what level Ledger's career could have ascended from here. Too bad we'll never know.
If you like Batman at all, strap on your utility belt and race your Batmobile to the theater. The Dark Knight is one of the best superhero movies ever thanks to a great hero, but mostly thanks to it's even better villian.
It is, however, a dark, brooding violence-filled thriller that banishes West, Keaton, Kilmer and Clooney to some distant Home for Inferior Batmen. And this isn't neccesarily because Christian Bale is better as Batman (though he is), because I loved Michael Keaton's version. It's more about the movie having a tone that none of the others tried to reach. This movie deals more with how Bruce Wayne/Batman reconciles his vigilante duty and Bale is up to the task. The movie is a bit long and dragged down slightly by its bloated narrative, but for the most part it is a bleak and relentless attack on the senses. You get your gadgets, your fistfights, your explosions, your high drama, your soaring orchestral score and, of course, your Joker.
I scoffed when people said Heath Ledger would probably be nominated for an Oscar for his performance, writing it off as hype and sentimentality because of his passing. I may have to recant those scoffs. Ledger's Joker may not posthumously win an Oscar, but he goes down in my book as the second greatest (or should it be worst?) villian in cinema history behind only Hannibal Lechter. (Though I haven't seen No Country for Old Men.) This Joker is funny, intense, violent, intelligent and creepy without being at all over the top. Forget Jack Nicholson, this is the iconic Joker performance. The Joker and Batman have a five minute encounter 2/3 of the way through the movie that is worth the price of admission. Intense and, on a certain level, scary it made me wonder to what level Ledger's career could have ascended from here. Too bad we'll never know.
If you like Batman at all, strap on your utility belt and race your Batmobile to the theater. The Dark Knight is one of the best superhero movies ever thanks to a great hero, but mostly thanks to it's even better villian.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Why I Don't Drink Coffee.
In today's Washington Post: A tale of coffee snobbery (not that there's anything wrong with that), customer service (or lack thereof) and the power of blogging.
The drink request Sunday, said Simmermon, who was visiting from Brooklyn, was denied by a barista who told him that Murky doesn't do espresso over ice. Irked, Simmermon said he asked for a triple espresso and a cup of ice, which he said the barista provided, grudgingly.
Service. No smile.
Then -- and this is Simmermon's account -- the barista scolded him, saying that what he was doing to his espresso was "not okay" and that the store's policy was to preserve the integrity of the drink. The employee said that allowing customers to dilute espresso was not in keeping with said policy.
Coffee-rage moment in 3, 2, 1 . . .
Can't Have It Both Ways.
So let me get this straight- first John McCain taunts Barack Obama for not going to Iraq and now criticizes his trip calling it nothing but media-covered campaign stops. Will somebody please find a candidate worthy of my vote?
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I Think I'm In Love.
I made a new friend today, had lunch with her in fact. She is saucy, spicy and smells, oh, so good. I had walked past her many times before, but decided today was the day to introduce myself. My friend St4rbux sings her praises and has previously recommended I meet her. She is so hot I think I might even be able to talk Amanda into joining in the next time I see her. Her name is Chipotle Mexican Grill and I think I'm in love.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Six Months And Counting...
Thanks to everyone who has weighed in with baby advice. We really appreciate it. It was thoughtful, instructive, helpful and sometimes funny; I expected nothing less. Thank you. Here is a shot of why we're doing all the legwork.
No Trailer Trash Here.
I got a great surprise while at the movies today. The Star Wars: Clone Wars trailer played before Journey to the Center of the Earth. While fumbling with my 3-D glasses I noticed the twinkling Lucasfilm logo pop up on the screen. There really is something about seeing it on the giant screen. I have had my doubts about the cartoon (I loved the hand drawn Clone Wars animated series that briefly ran leading up to ROTS, but thought I would hate the new computer animated stuff.), however, it looks to be badass. I'm still not in love with the way the human characters look, but the creatures and especially the clone troopers look awesome. Unlike most Star Wars fans likely have, I had not yet seen the trailer online. Now I'm glad I hadn't because it gave me goosebumps like every Star Wars trailer or film has when watching it in the theater. Soaring John Williams music, the buzz and hiss of lightsabers,-ah, come on August 15th. Seeing the trailer almost made up for having to sit through Journey. I know there is a lot of summer left, but that has to be the most brainless movie of the year. If you haven't seen the Star Wars trailer, you can find two trailers here.
Also, Brent recently hipped me to the trailer for the new Bond film with the unfortunate title, Quantum of Solace. Loved Casino Royale; it was the perfect reboot to the series. I think the new one is out November 7th. See trailer here.
Also, Brent recently hipped me to the trailer for the new Bond film with the unfortunate title, Quantum of Solace. Loved Casino Royale; it was the perfect reboot to the series. I think the new one is out November 7th. See trailer here.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Calling All Parents.
We are looking at baby stuff and want to hear the voices of experience. Is there an item, device, piece of equipment or specific brand of item that was so indispensable that you couldn't or wouldn't want to raise baby without it?
This Time It Wasn't Me!
Today I had the rare treat of scoring a hat trick of bad drivers aimed squarely at my Honda. I say "treat" because on a normal day I witness way more than three shitty driving moves from the lovely citizens of Annapolis where everyone plays America's fastest growing driving game sensation, "I'll Run This Stop Sign Because Of Course He'll Stop." I'm firmly convinced that I have some superpower that allows me, and me alone, to see the invisible stops signs on Annapolis street corners. If bad driving were polygamy, Annapolitans would be Warren Jeffs and I am a 14-year-old girl being held against my will.
I know blogging about bad drivers is about as original as calling George Bush stupid, but I've had it up to here.
Driver no. 1 wouldn't let me merge onto Route 50. Instead of moving into the vacant center lane she obliviously matched my speed (there was line of cars on her bumper) while blabbering on her cell phone. When someone is trapped in the right lane unable to get over I don't mind getting to highway speed and zipping in front of them, in fact that is exactly what acceleration lanes are for. I shouldn't, however, have to gun it to 90 mph to do it. She could have slowed a bit ( or sped up a bit), unless she was receiving direct orders, via the cell phone, to not let me merge.
Driver no. 2 came frighteningly close to T-Boning me as I turned left through an intersection. Sir, if after almost plowing into me because you have blown a red light at 40 mph, you shouldn't stare me down.
Driver no. 3 was... aww forget it. Let me stop complaining; we all encounter poor drivers. Plus, I have to go take out the garbage because Amanda just opened the can and it smells like death.
I know blogging about bad drivers is about as original as calling George Bush stupid, but I've had it up to here.
Driver no. 1 wouldn't let me merge onto Route 50. Instead of moving into the vacant center lane she obliviously matched my speed (there was line of cars on her bumper) while blabbering on her cell phone. When someone is trapped in the right lane unable to get over I don't mind getting to highway speed and zipping in front of them, in fact that is exactly what acceleration lanes are for. I shouldn't, however, have to gun it to 90 mph to do it. She could have slowed a bit ( or sped up a bit), unless she was receiving direct orders, via the cell phone, to not let me merge.
Driver no. 2 came frighteningly close to T-Boning me as I turned left through an intersection. Sir, if after almost plowing into me because you have blown a red light at 40 mph, you shouldn't stare me down.
Driver no. 3 was... aww forget it. Let me stop complaining; we all encounter poor drivers. Plus, I have to go take out the garbage because Amanda just opened the can and it smells like death.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Two Recommendations For The Price Of One.
There have been many artistic endeavors that sseek to explain, belittle, skewer and examine life in the suburbs. Recently, I've found two of the best-the tv show Weeds and a novel, The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perrota. I had wanted to check out Weeds for awhile and finally watched Season One on DVD before we had our cable hooked up. It's a funny character study starring one of my long-time favorites, Mary Louise Parker. The writing is sharp, the plots are convoluted (Not Nip/Tuck convoluted, but convoluted nonetheless.) and the ensemble cast is strong. The writers even manage to make Kevin Nealon funny, something that has until now been an iffy proposition. Favorite line so far, through Season One and part of Season Two:"When does CPR become necrophilia?"
As for Tom Perrotta, I have found a new author to read. The Abstinence Teacher takes on religion, abstinence programs (duh), youth sports and the difficult task of raising kids. While another of my favorite authors, Chuck Pahlniuk, writes with fervor and zooms right past any shred of plausibility, Perrotta takes the opposite approach. He has a keen eye for the details and subtlety of life and relays all the complexities with a smooth, patient writing style. Can't wait to read his other work.
As for Tom Perrotta, I have found a new author to read. The Abstinence Teacher takes on religion, abstinence programs (duh), youth sports and the difficult task of raising kids. While another of my favorite authors, Chuck Pahlniuk, writes with fervor and zooms right past any shred of plausibility, Perrotta takes the opposite approach. He has a keen eye for the details and subtlety of life and relays all the complexities with a smooth, patient writing style. Can't wait to read his other work.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Straight to Bargain.
This one is mostly for my bookselling friends. I read a recent column in the Washington Post that reiterates what we already know-there are a lot of crappy books being published. The column, written by somebody in the publishing industry, doesn't break much new ground, but helps explain some of the reasons the shelves are filled with junk.
Friday, June 27, 2008
WALL-E Made Me SLEEP-E.
Today I saw WALL-E ,Pixar's latest sure-to-break-records summer blockbuster. Let me say that generally I enjoy Pixar films(I've seen all but Cars) and that the boys I took thoroughly enjoyed it. The animation, or art really, reached the outstanding level that we expect from Pixar. All that being said, I need to bang on this movie a little. It wasn't bad, but it was no "The Incredibles" either. On many levels this a heavy, dark adult movie. Those who wish to analyze can pluck many a theme from the film. Take your pick: Strong female saves goofy male (certainly hits home for me), underdog succeeds, new technology versus old technology, love conquers all and my personal favorite, robots might just be the end of us.
To see any of these themes, though, you have to dodge the theme Disney is ramming down your throat-you, yes you, are ruining Planet Earth. Big business and overconsumption, to hear Disney tell it, will render Earth uninhabitable and spacebound humans will grow fat and lazy because robots fulfill our every need. I'm not the greenest guy around, but I do understand subtlety and don't need to be hit over the head with the save the environment message. The filmakers lay the guilt/blame on thicker than the layers of garbage WALL-E stacks all day every day. Yet, I'm sure that won't stop Disney from selling tons of plastic WALL-E action figures, toothbrushes, nite lites, and lunch boxes that will clog landfills for the forseeable future.
WALL-E, sort of the Cal Ripken of trash robots, goes to work everyday despite the fact that all other robots on abandoned Earth have long since rusted. The endearing underdog discovers a plant somehow still alive and the adventure really begins when he falls in love with and subsequently follows a space probe back to the ship harboring mankind. WALL-E hits all the right notes that are supposed to pluck your heartstrings and make you love a character, but for me the connection just wasn't there.
I'll wrap it up like this-The animation, especially of the bleak first 30 minutes, was great, there are some laughs, WALL-E himself is likable, but ultimately I think I found the Pixar pre-movie short film more entertaining than the feature. Too bad.
To see any of these themes, though, you have to dodge the theme Disney is ramming down your throat-you, yes you, are ruining Planet Earth. Big business and overconsumption, to hear Disney tell it, will render Earth uninhabitable and spacebound humans will grow fat and lazy because robots fulfill our every need. I'm not the greenest guy around, but I do understand subtlety and don't need to be hit over the head with the save the environment message. The filmakers lay the guilt/blame on thicker than the layers of garbage WALL-E stacks all day every day. Yet, I'm sure that won't stop Disney from selling tons of plastic WALL-E action figures, toothbrushes, nite lites, and lunch boxes that will clog landfills for the forseeable future.
WALL-E, sort of the Cal Ripken of trash robots, goes to work everyday despite the fact that all other robots on abandoned Earth have long since rusted. The endearing underdog discovers a plant somehow still alive and the adventure really begins when he falls in love with and subsequently follows a space probe back to the ship harboring mankind. WALL-E hits all the right notes that are supposed to pluck your heartstrings and make you love a character, but for me the connection just wasn't there.
I'll wrap it up like this-The animation, especially of the bleak first 30 minutes, was great, there are some laughs, WALL-E himself is likable, but ultimately I think I found the Pixar pre-movie short film more entertaining than the feature. Too bad.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Revenge of the Machines.
I have previously established that I am a technophobe and believe that technology will bring doom to us all. Yep, someday the machines will band together, rise up and destroy us. (I tend to lash out at things I don't understand or with which I have no proficiency). It may be a self-fulfulling prophecy, my pessimism and worry bring about lots of those, but I think the electronic devices in my life are beginning the revolution. Sure, I know that my cell phone has been giving me brain cancer and that standing in front of the microwave is shrinking my balls, however, the recent glitches have me convinced there is an escalation.
In the last couple of days our computer mouse, cable box and internet service have all been on the fritz. Want more evidence? Since we've moved we've had major issues getting phone/internet service set up, the fridge started making an unearthly growl whose decibel count was matched only by the soaring temperature inside and I have broken not one, but two cell phones. Yesterday may have been the icing on the cake. I'm convinced the evil, intelligent Nintendo Wii was actively plotting my demise. First, it blunted my focus with the mind-numbingly boring Speed Racer game. Then when my defenses were down, the Wii attacked my elbow with way too many rounds of Wii bowling. That's right my arm is sore because I played too much VIDEO BOWLING. Thank goodness I bowl right-handed. Had I used my left, formerly bursitic elbow I might be hospitalized right now. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but heed my warning-Keep an eye on your electronics because they have an optical lens on you.
In the last couple of days our computer mouse, cable box and internet service have all been on the fritz. Want more evidence? Since we've moved we've had major issues getting phone/internet service set up, the fridge started making an unearthly growl whose decibel count was matched only by the soaring temperature inside and I have broken not one, but two cell phones. Yesterday may have been the icing on the cake. I'm convinced the evil, intelligent Nintendo Wii was actively plotting my demise. First, it blunted my focus with the mind-numbingly boring Speed Racer game. Then when my defenses were down, the Wii attacked my elbow with way too many rounds of Wii bowling. That's right my arm is sore because I played too much VIDEO BOWLING. Thank goodness I bowl right-handed. Had I used my left, formerly bursitic elbow I might be hospitalized right now. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but heed my warning-Keep an eye on your electronics because they have an optical lens on you.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Mallrat.
I used to think God's greatest gift to man, besides life itself, was perhaps forgiveness. Now, I'm convinced it's the shopping mall. That's right, radiant stone and glass monuments to retail gorging and American over-indulgence. I've had some time to kill the last few days so I have popped into the mall for a couple minutes each of the last two days and man, has it been great. I love to people watch and the mall is second to only the boardwalk for pure finger-pointing people watching.
Seriously, what other circus crams so much under one tent? You have your power walkers flailing their way to fitness, kids on leashes and mothers and daughters engaged in a contest to see who can dress hipper (and by that I mean sluttier). And what about the merchandise? Kiosks overflowing with remote control helicopters, NFL car floormats and even hot dogs wrapped in pretzels make you dizzy with the possibilities.
I do, however, have one beef with malls. Every clothing store now seems more like a niteclub than retail establishment. They all have tiny, dark openings, a thumping techno beat and smell like an AXE body spray factory. Is it supposed to be mysterious? What's the mystery about high prices and clothes I can't fit into? I'm surprised there is not a velvet rope and a bouncer crossing me off his clipboard because my waistline is too large. However, being waved on by the opening to Garage or Forever 21 is hardly enough to keep me from being a mall rat every so often.
Seriously, what other circus crams so much under one tent? You have your power walkers flailing their way to fitness, kids on leashes and mothers and daughters engaged in a contest to see who can dress hipper (and by that I mean sluttier). And what about the merchandise? Kiosks overflowing with remote control helicopters, NFL car floormats and even hot dogs wrapped in pretzels make you dizzy with the possibilities.
I do, however, have one beef with malls. Every clothing store now seems more like a niteclub than retail establishment. They all have tiny, dark openings, a thumping techno beat and smell like an AXE body spray factory. Is it supposed to be mysterious? What's the mystery about high prices and clothes I can't fit into? I'm surprised there is not a velvet rope and a bouncer crossing me off his clipboard because my waistline is too large. However, being waved on by the opening to Garage or Forever 21 is hardly enough to keep me from being a mall rat every so often.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Administrative Adjustment
Since my friend Bryan now also has a blog (Space Monkey Mafia, see my links) and will sometimes be commenting here, I am changing my post and comment ID to "Bryan H" to eliminate any confusion over who is commenting. Carry on.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Help.
I am happy as hell that we are expecting a little girl, but it has added one item to our "to do" list in preparing for her arrival. We have, for quite some time, had a boy's name picked out. However, since my chromosomes( I guess that's right. I'm no geneticist.) chose female, we need to find a girl's name. This task would be easier if I wasn't The Most Indecisive Man In The World. Amanda has made many suggestions, most of which I have vetoed. She too has vetoed many, but that's usually because I've suggested something like Persephone or Athena. We are searching for something somewhere between common and Celebrity Scientologist Wacky. No Jennifer, yet no Pilot Inspektor. (Damn you, Jason Lee. You used to be cool.)
This is where you come in dear reader. In an informal, NON-BINDING poll I'm asking you to cast a vote for a name from this list we've narrowed. Write-ins are also welcome. For the middle name we have chosen Grace, for Amanda's grandmother. That is, unless we use Grace as the first name. (Told you I was indecisive.)
The List:
Ava Grace, Natalie Grace, Sydney Grace (with a Y, of course), Mallory Grace, Abby Grace, Jessica Grace, Rory Grace, Grace Catherine, Grace Audrey(after both our grandmothers).
My father-in-law has also suggested we settle this with a "Wheel of Fortune"-type wheel to be spun at the baby shower. I'm filing that one under M for Maybe.
This is where you come in dear reader. In an informal, NON-BINDING poll I'm asking you to cast a vote for a name from this list we've narrowed. Write-ins are also welcome. For the middle name we have chosen Grace, for Amanda's grandmother. That is, unless we use Grace as the first name. (Told you I was indecisive.)
The List:
Ava Grace, Natalie Grace, Sydney Grace (with a Y, of course), Mallory Grace, Abby Grace, Jessica Grace, Rory Grace, Grace Catherine, Grace Audrey(after both our grandmothers).
My father-in-law has also suggested we settle this with a "Wheel of Fortune"-type wheel to be spun at the baby shower. I'm filing that one under M for Maybe.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Escape From Retail.
Some of you may be wondering how I'm making out in my new position as a Manny/Butler/Pool Boy/Etc. Fear not, I'm doin' alright. I'm very fortunate to have landed in a great situation, For example, today, I helped build a Lego racetrack, played catch, played Wii, went to the movies and went swimming. Not a bad gig if you can get it. Some of my other "duties" thus far: playing tennis, firing Nerf dart guns, painting birdhouses, helping craft a medieval sword and shield and monitoring the Slip 'n Slide. Oh, there is other stuff (driving, learning to maintain the pool, helping with homework), but those responsibilities pale in comparison to the fun I have hanging out with and helping the Z-man. I've also been masquerading as a handyman. I've fixed window hardware, hung stuff, and even repaired the garage door opener. It's almost like I know what I'm doing.
I do, however, miss books. I've been reading a bunch because we went over two weeks without cable. (And I didn't die from lack of TV exposure. Shocking.) But I still miss books. I miss talking about them with customers and co-workers. I even miss ( a little) setting displays of books. I was never a great merchandiser of books, but it was fun to get a little creative when building displays. What I don't miss is selling books. The actual interaction with clueless customers was sometimes enough to make you want to gouge out an eye with a screwdiver if only because it would be less painful than trying to help some asshat find a book. Sample dialogue from the customer service desk:
Asshat Customer (AC): You're gonna hate me, I have a stupid question.
Me: Too late for that. What's you're question?
AC: Well, I saw a book on TV this morning and I'd like to find it, but I was too stupid/lazy to write down the relevant information. Can you help me find it?
Me:You bet. Do you know the title?
AC: No, it was about politics and had a red cover and I think it had The in the title.
Me:Do you know the author?
AC:No, but it was a woman. I think. Wait, it could have been a man. Or a chimpanzee.
Me:You saw this just this morning, not twelve years ago, right? What show was it? I can search it that way.
AC: Oh, you know the one on in the morning. The Early Today America Show. You know, the one with the weatherman.
After ten minutes of fruitless keyword searching...
AC: Oh, there it is on that display there.
Me: Oh that book about religion with the blue cover? The one that is nothing like your description?
I could go on, but who needs that? Certainly not those who have lived it. Instead, I think I'll go for another lap in the pool.
I do, however, miss books. I've been reading a bunch because we went over two weeks without cable. (And I didn't die from lack of TV exposure. Shocking.) But I still miss books. I miss talking about them with customers and co-workers. I even miss ( a little) setting displays of books. I was never a great merchandiser of books, but it was fun to get a little creative when building displays. What I don't miss is selling books. The actual interaction with clueless customers was sometimes enough to make you want to gouge out an eye with a screwdiver if only because it would be less painful than trying to help some asshat find a book. Sample dialogue from the customer service desk:
Asshat Customer (AC): You're gonna hate me, I have a stupid question.
Me: Too late for that. What's you're question?
AC: Well, I saw a book on TV this morning and I'd like to find it, but I was too stupid/lazy to write down the relevant information. Can you help me find it?
Me:You bet. Do you know the title?
AC: No, it was about politics and had a red cover and I think it had The in the title.
Me:Do you know the author?
AC:No, but it was a woman. I think. Wait, it could have been a man. Or a chimpanzee.
Me:You saw this just this morning, not twelve years ago, right? What show was it? I can search it that way.
AC: Oh, you know the one on in the morning. The Early Today America Show. You know, the one with the weatherman.
After ten minutes of fruitless keyword searching...
AC: Oh, there it is on that display there.
Me: Oh that book about religion with the blue cover? The one that is nothing like your description?
I could go on, but who needs that? Certainly not those who have lived it. Instead, I think I'll go for another lap in the pool.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
"Start Saving For The Wedding."
Today has been a good day. Wait, let me rephrase because that was a gross understatement. Today has been an awesome, superfantastic, great day. Amanda had her level II ultrasound today which revealed, in glorious 4D imaging, that our daughter appears healthy and on track. That's right, I said daughter. We are having a girl and I am over the moon excited. We didn't care if it was a boy or girl, I was just ecstatic to see fingers, toes, four heart chambers, spinal cord. etc, etc. (Let me stop gushing. Screw that, I just found out we're having a daughter, I'll gush all I want.)
For weeks, Amanda and I have weighed whether we should find out the gender of the baby. We agreed that there are few surprises left in life, yet we are planner people and needed to know. We are also indecisive so sitting in the waiting room this morning we flipped a coin. Heads we'd find out, tails we wouldn't. Heads it was, so we found out. The Doc told me to start saving for the wedding. I asked that he let me get college paid for first. In truth, though, all the future worries can wait a little longer; today I can relax and thank God that we have a baby girl on the way.
For weeks, Amanda and I have weighed whether we should find out the gender of the baby. We agreed that there are few surprises left in life, yet we are planner people and needed to know. We are also indecisive so sitting in the waiting room this morning we flipped a coin. Heads we'd find out, tails we wouldn't. Heads it was, so we found out. The Doc told me to start saving for the wedding. I asked that he let me get college paid for first. In truth, though, all the future worries can wait a little longer; today I can relax and thank God that we have a baby girl on the way.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Time Flies When...
I can't believe it has been nearly one month since I have posted. Alas, grown-up responsibilities and some major life changes -moving, a new job, Amanda's graduation, pregnancy (her, not me), not to mention still not having an internet connection at the new place have conspired to keep me from writing. All that should change soon, however, so please keep checking back because I do have some good stories pertaining to all these life altering events. Stay tuned.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Tragic? Yes. Enough Coverage? No.
In case you missed it Saturday, the Kentucky Derby was marred by the injury to, and subsequent on-track euthanizing of, Eight Belles, the only filly in the field. The death, tragic to be sure, has once again brought the safety and possible cruelty of horse racing into question. That is a complicated debate and one about which I am too uninformed to discuss intelligently.
I'd rather focus on NBC's decision to not show the injury during its broadcast. The filly pulled up lame after crossing the finish line as NBC's live shot was focused on the winning horse and jockey so the injury was missed live. However, NBC never did show a replay of what happened to Eight Belles. The network briefly showed the horse lying on the track and rapidly reported the information that track doctors relayed including the news that the injuries were so catastrophic that immediate euthanization was required. I, like many people, don't like to see animals in distress. To have shown, if video exists, the horse writhing or being euthanized would have been tasteless, but I do think NBC should have shown the taped video of the injury as it occured; the injury is part of the story of the race. Perhaps warn people to look away if they like or run a disclaimer, however, I think the injury itself is newsworthy enough to show. Many of those watching with me, including one horse owner and lover, were genuinely curious about what actually happened.
Sports networks have routinely shown gruesome replays of human injuries. Joe Theismann's compound leg fracture, Robin Ventura's foot turned unnaturally sideways as he slides across homeplate and Tim Krumrie's leg flopping helplessly through the Super Bowl air are all enough to make you queasy, yet they were replayed and analyzed. I understand that none of these men had to be put down on the playing field and maybe that's the difference. Obviously, the real issue is the sad demise of a beautiful horse on Saturday, I simply think NBC should have shown more of the story.
I'd rather focus on NBC's decision to not show the injury during its broadcast. The filly pulled up lame after crossing the finish line as NBC's live shot was focused on the winning horse and jockey so the injury was missed live. However, NBC never did show a replay of what happened to Eight Belles. The network briefly showed the horse lying on the track and rapidly reported the information that track doctors relayed including the news that the injuries were so catastrophic that immediate euthanization was required. I, like many people, don't like to see animals in distress. To have shown, if video exists, the horse writhing or being euthanized would have been tasteless, but I do think NBC should have shown the taped video of the injury as it occured; the injury is part of the story of the race. Perhaps warn people to look away if they like or run a disclaimer, however, I think the injury itself is newsworthy enough to show. Many of those watching with me, including one horse owner and lover, were genuinely curious about what actually happened.
Sports networks have routinely shown gruesome replays of human injuries. Joe Theismann's compound leg fracture, Robin Ventura's foot turned unnaturally sideways as he slides across homeplate and Tim Krumrie's leg flopping helplessly through the Super Bowl air are all enough to make you queasy, yet they were replayed and analyzed. I understand that none of these men had to be put down on the playing field and maybe that's the difference. Obviously, the real issue is the sad demise of a beautiful horse on Saturday, I simply think NBC should have shown more of the story.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Keep an Open Mind.
Well, anybody who thought Barack Obama's former pastor Jeremiah Wright was going to stay in the background until November was mistaken. Wright spoke last night at an NAACP conference and today at a National Press Club symposium. I tuned in last night to watch the speech in its entirety because I didn't want to rely on sound bites alone. His message was one of defending the black church, but mostly he pushed the idea that, whether it be churchgoers, students or citizens, that different is not deficient. Different but equal. Watched in total his message resonates, yet as I watched I could pick out the sound bites that the media would likely seize upon this morning. Indeed, headlines and video clips this morning picked the most controversial (though they really weren't) statements that he made. I am often quick to judge and I urge anyone who forms an opinion based solely on the clips to watch or read the speech in full.
There is little doubt that Wright is a blatant self-promoter, a trait that I believe diminishes his message. His points can be lost in his sometimes clownish need to turn heads and drop jaws. He, and I understand he doesn't care because he is a pastor not a politician, didn't do Obama any favors. What impact putting himself in the spotlight has on Obama remains to be seen.
There is little doubt that Wright is a blatant self-promoter, a trait that I believe diminishes his message. His points can be lost in his sometimes clownish need to turn heads and drop jaws. He, and I understand he doesn't care because he is a pastor not a politician, didn't do Obama any favors. What impact putting himself in the spotlight has on Obama remains to be seen.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Is it October yet?
Two video clips stand out from the aftermath of last night's heartbreaking Caps OT loss. To see them you have to sift through the fog of disappointment, anger and hatred of the Flyers. To see them you have to stop thinking, "Same old Caps, teasing me just so they can rip my heart out." The first clip was watching Alex Ovechkin in the handshake line. The second clip was of Ovechkin's postgame locker room interview with reporters. The kid gets it. He responded to a bitter defeat with the poise of a veteran. He enumerated the postives, spoke with pride about the team's accomplishments and looked to the future. Any fan of this team must realize that we have a special guy here, on and off the ice. The Caps should be positioned to make many playoff runs in the near future. Maybe learning to crawl before you walk is just the way it has to be. Many a great NHL player-Howe, Gretzky, Lemeuix, LaFleur- failed to win their first playoff series. All went on to win many. Michael Jordan took merciless playoff beatings at the hands of the Detroit Pistons before growing into a six-time champion. It's difficult to be patient, but we fans must. We have a superstar, a leader, a veteran despite his years here that will lead this talented team to more disappointing losses and hopefully a bunch of thrilling victories.
I said I would be happy no matter the outcome in Round 1 simply because the Caps made it in. Maybe proud is the better word because this morning I am certainly not happy. To get that close and lose leaves me so bitter I might have to cling to guns or religion. The Caps had so many chances to put the game away early and late that I had the feeling it was going to end the way it did. They dominated the third period without putting home the game winner. Ovechkin had the series on his stick, but chose to pass to Federov. If it connects we celebrate Ovechkin as an unselfish superstar (which he is), instead we're left to wonder what would have happened if the best goal scorer in the league had shot the puck.
Much has been made of the controversial calls costing the Caps. Every team that wins a playoff series must overcome questionable officiating; it is not the reason the Caps lost that game. The OT power play was justified, in fact, John Erskine should have been called for a tripping minor 30 seconds earlier. As for the Thoreson wipeout of Morrison and Huet that left the easy second goal? The more I watch the replay(and I've watched it a lot) I understand why there was no call. I'm not saying there couldn't have been a call, but I get why there wasn't. The NHL has said that Morrison played the puck and that's why Thoreson was allowed to check him. I don't know that Morrison played the puck, but the puck was certainly close enough that calling interference is dicey. Also remember that Caps fans are watching that play through a prism of their goalie being run all series. Tough no call, after cooling off I get it. I don't love it, but I get it.
There will be many more chances for the Washington Capitals to make pleasant playoff memories. It hurts like hell today, however, this is a team that underachieved before December not one that overachieved after. Better days await.
I said I would be happy no matter the outcome in Round 1 simply because the Caps made it in. Maybe proud is the better word because this morning I am certainly not happy. To get that close and lose leaves me so bitter I might have to cling to guns or religion. The Caps had so many chances to put the game away early and late that I had the feeling it was going to end the way it did. They dominated the third period without putting home the game winner. Ovechkin had the series on his stick, but chose to pass to Federov. If it connects we celebrate Ovechkin as an unselfish superstar (which he is), instead we're left to wonder what would have happened if the best goal scorer in the league had shot the puck.
Much has been made of the controversial calls costing the Caps. Every team that wins a playoff series must overcome questionable officiating; it is not the reason the Caps lost that game. The OT power play was justified, in fact, John Erskine should have been called for a tripping minor 30 seconds earlier. As for the Thoreson wipeout of Morrison and Huet that left the easy second goal? The more I watch the replay(and I've watched it a lot) I understand why there was no call. I'm not saying there couldn't have been a call, but I get why there wasn't. The NHL has said that Morrison played the puck and that's why Thoreson was allowed to check him. I don't know that Morrison played the puck, but the puck was certainly close enough that calling interference is dicey. Also remember that Caps fans are watching that play through a prism of their goalie being run all series. Tough no call, after cooling off I get it. I don't love it, but I get it.
There will be many more chances for the Washington Capitals to make pleasant playoff memories. It hurts like hell today, however, this is a team that underachieved before December not one that overachieved after. Better days await.