I've decided that Victoria's Secret must not like men very much. I know that sounds somewhat irrational given that the retailer provides great joy to men who date/marry Victoria's Secret shoppers and provides great "catalogs" for those men that don't. But how else can you explain the BioFit Seven Way Bra ? I was walking through the mall recently when the V.S. window sign advertising the BioFit scared the hell out of me. Apparently, this technological marvel has straps that can be fastened in seven different configurations. There's the Standard, the CrissCross, the Crossback, the ZigZag, the Loopty-Loo, the Flying V and the Cloverleaf. For decades, men have been confounded by ordinary bra straps and clasps, now we have to wrestle something that I need an engineering degree to decipher? Hopefully, the packaging includes a diagram and instructions for removal.
As a married man I know there is a narrow window between "Let's fool around," and "Nevermind, I wonder who's on Letterman,". I can't be wasting crucial seconds staring at blueprints. If Amanda purchases one of these things I may be in real trouble. I'm going to have to dispatch some Bothan spies to steal the plans to this thing or the Rebellion in my pants is going to be short-lived. Of course, even with instructions I'd still need my ham hands to cooperate. I'm not exactly operating with a surgeon's finesse. I'd hoped that as I aged I'd get smoother and more confident, kinda like the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World, but now this bra threatens to make that a "one step forward, two steps back" proposition. Thanks, Victoria's Secret.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Rejected Halloween Costume #2
Amanda has vetoed another Halloween costume for the girl: Grace and I wearing matching white suits. Ah, just as well, she's too young to say "Da plane, Da plane." anyway.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
"There was nothing normal about that."
My daughter Grace had surgery five weeks ago to repair a partial cleft of her soft palate. The surgery was successful thanks to the fine docs and staff at Johns Hopkins. While sitting around Grace's room after the surgery I was thinking about how I would describe the whole process. I thought about Tom Petty's lyric, "the waiting is the hardest part". And the waiting was tough-the anxious anticipation in the preceding days, the nervousness during the actual surgery and the boredom in the room after the surgery -but it turns out the waiting was not nearly the hardest part. In the evening following the surgery Grace sent a worrisome father's heart rate skyrocketing, giving me the biggest scare of my life.
As I said, the surgery was a success; we simply had to stay overnight until Grace recuperated enough to start feeding properly. Around dinnertime, Grace, who was acting pretty happy, if a little off from the anesthesia and her big day, decided to throw up. Blood. A lot of blood. One moment she's sitting in her hospital crib looking around. One cough later she's pouring out a coffee colored Niagra Falls. Sissy Spacek had less blood poured on her in Carrie. I don't know how Grace's digestive system housed that much blood. And, of course, her little body decided to do this while the nurse was out of the room.
I have genuinely feared for my safety a handful of times in my life, but I've never been as scared as I was at that instant. In that way that time slows and you can think a thousand things in a millisecond, I was instantly afraid for her, wondered what the hell was going on and felt incredibly helpless. As Amanda ran to Grace's side, I punched the nurse call button and, in what I can only imagine was a squeaky Peter Brady croak, yelled to them to please send someone because my daughter was vomiting blood everywhere. Grace, who has grown into big girl, suddenly looked impossibly tiny sitting in a blood covered hospital gown.
Our nurse responded immediately and calmly explained that this occurence was normal post-surgery and that since the blood was not bright red (fresh) we shouldn't be concerned. (I should say here that this was one of the instances that made the Hopkins experience great. The nurse was in no way condascending or dismissive when she explained all this. She understood our concern and anxiety, but her calm kept us calm. Because in my mind all I could think was that this was anything but normal.) So, since the blood looked like barbecue sauce and not bright red Hollywood blood the sutures were probably intact and the blood Grace threw up was old blood that had drained down her throat during and since the surgery. A visit from the Plastics resident confirmed this and set us somewhat at ease. Although, the resident also used the word normal and I maintain there was nothing normal about what I witnessed.
Hopefully, I'll never again experience that combination of fear and helplessness. The good news was that The Puking, though it scared Amanda and I, made Grace feel a whole bunch better. Grace has a check-up next week to see how she is healing. Hopefully, that day I'll hear the word normal and believe it.
As I said, the surgery was a success; we simply had to stay overnight until Grace recuperated enough to start feeding properly. Around dinnertime, Grace, who was acting pretty happy, if a little off from the anesthesia and her big day, decided to throw up. Blood. A lot of blood. One moment she's sitting in her hospital crib looking around. One cough later she's pouring out a coffee colored Niagra Falls. Sissy Spacek had less blood poured on her in Carrie. I don't know how Grace's digestive system housed that much blood. And, of course, her little body decided to do this while the nurse was out of the room.
I have genuinely feared for my safety a handful of times in my life, but I've never been as scared as I was at that instant. In that way that time slows and you can think a thousand things in a millisecond, I was instantly afraid for her, wondered what the hell was going on and felt incredibly helpless. As Amanda ran to Grace's side, I punched the nurse call button and, in what I can only imagine was a squeaky Peter Brady croak, yelled to them to please send someone because my daughter was vomiting blood everywhere. Grace, who has grown into big girl, suddenly looked impossibly tiny sitting in a blood covered hospital gown.
Our nurse responded immediately and calmly explained that this occurence was normal post-surgery and that since the blood was not bright red (fresh) we shouldn't be concerned. (I should say here that this was one of the instances that made the Hopkins experience great. The nurse was in no way condascending or dismissive when she explained all this. She understood our concern and anxiety, but her calm kept us calm. Because in my mind all I could think was that this was anything but normal.) So, since the blood looked like barbecue sauce and not bright red Hollywood blood the sutures were probably intact and the blood Grace threw up was old blood that had drained down her throat during and since the surgery. A visit from the Plastics resident confirmed this and set us somewhat at ease. Although, the resident also used the word normal and I maintain there was nothing normal about what I witnessed.
Hopefully, I'll never again experience that combination of fear and helplessness. The good news was that The Puking, though it scared Amanda and I, made Grace feel a whole bunch better. Grace has a check-up next week to see how she is healing. Hopefully, that day I'll hear the word normal and believe it.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Welcome New Readers
Since I may have a few new readers via Facebook (thanks for reading guys) I have decided to post links to some of my favorite posts so that, if so inclined, new readers can check out some of my older stuff without having to read all of the archives. Check out these links to see my thoughts on:profiling potential terrorists, why I despise Coldstone Creamery , my frustrating weed eater ,space travel , how President Bush has lost my respect, the marketing of the human male, flea markets, my fear of foodborne illness, the wussification of America, my raging germophobia, my first solo trip with Grace to the grocery store and my adventures as an amateur orthodontist.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Rejected Halloween Costume.
I'm sure this will not be the last, but I have had my first halloween costume for Grace vetoed by the wife. I thought we should dress Grace like the creature from Alien and then I would wear her in the Baby Bjorn which would be decorated so it looked like she was bursting from my gut just like the movie. Oh well, back to the drawing board.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
We Now Return To Regularly Scheduled Programming.
Okay, so that was a much longer hiatus than I anticipated. I haven't blogged since early June because it has been a very busy summer. Since Memorial Day I have: moved (twice, technically), started working at the Big Green Bookstore again (glad to be back working with my buds), stepped down as the Governor of Alaska (You Betcha!), sweated my Dad's five day hospital stay (he's fine), ignored my fantasy baseball team (sorry Warren), learned much (about myself and others), helped remodel our rental house(man, I hate painting), called the President a liar during a joint session of Congress, beamed proudly as Grace learned to crawl and pull herself up (she'll walk soon I think), worried mightily through her cleft surgery and recovery (she recovered great and hasn't missed a beat), memorized a half-dozen Elmo DVDs ("Read, read, read, read, Elmo's a pirate who loves to read."), was eliminated from the AL East race by September 1st (wait, that was the Orioles) and had reaffirmed for me what I already knew (that as long as I have Amanda and Grace, I have everything I need). Now that I've updated, how about a return to snarky, sarcastic, insignificant opinion and nonsense?
Even though I wasn't writing, I spent the summer observing, worrying, cheering, reading, complaining, fretting, watching TV, wallowing in pessimism...well, the usual. I have some notes, on paper and in my head, so hopefully I'll have some rapid fire posts out of the gate. Though, time management is not a strong suit of mine and available time seems ever dwindling. We'll see. Tonight I start with a short post-a few unimportant questions that have been nagging me lately.
Will landscape designers who plan layouts for business properties ever take into consideration how their shrubs/trees/hedges affect a driver's ability to see oncoming traffic? I'm tired of having my front end almost ripped off by a passing vehicle because I've had to inch out into the street to peer around an ill-placed hedge. Or maybe I should just stop going to the mall.
How did it take me this long to discover Chick-Fil-A's chicken mini breakfast sandwiches? A chicken nugget on soft, buttered roll that is the exact size of the opening of the barbecue sauce container, thereby making it perfect for dipping? Brilliant!
Why is it that while plaid shorts are deemed acceptable summer attire, plaid pants are considered ridiculous?
If Dan Brown writes a book, but there's nobody there to buy it, is it still the biggest release of the year?
Should I feel guilty if, while eating the aforementioned chicken mini, I pass a tractor trailer loaded with chickens stuffed into cages?
What will happen to all the Marvel themed rides at Universal Studios theme parks now that Disney has purchased Marvel for $4 billion? Coming in 2010-The Incredible Bulk roller coaster and Slider-man 3D thrill ride!
I understand being required to carry car insurance because I may harm someone else, but why must I be forced to carry health insurance? Of course I have coverage now, but if I was single and healthy I would consider skipping it (if given that option by our heavy-handed President.)
Even though I wasn't writing, I spent the summer observing, worrying, cheering, reading, complaining, fretting, watching TV, wallowing in pessimism...well, the usual. I have some notes, on paper and in my head, so hopefully I'll have some rapid fire posts out of the gate. Though, time management is not a strong suit of mine and available time seems ever dwindling. We'll see. Tonight I start with a short post-a few unimportant questions that have been nagging me lately.
Will landscape designers who plan layouts for business properties ever take into consideration how their shrubs/trees/hedges affect a driver's ability to see oncoming traffic? I'm tired of having my front end almost ripped off by a passing vehicle because I've had to inch out into the street to peer around an ill-placed hedge. Or maybe I should just stop going to the mall.
How did it take me this long to discover Chick-Fil-A's chicken mini breakfast sandwiches? A chicken nugget on soft, buttered roll that is the exact size of the opening of the barbecue sauce container, thereby making it perfect for dipping? Brilliant!
Why is it that while plaid shorts are deemed acceptable summer attire, plaid pants are considered ridiculous?
If Dan Brown writes a book, but there's nobody there to buy it, is it still the biggest release of the year?
Should I feel guilty if, while eating the aforementioned chicken mini, I pass a tractor trailer loaded with chickens stuffed into cages?
What will happen to all the Marvel themed rides at Universal Studios theme parks now that Disney has purchased Marvel for $4 billion? Coming in 2010-The Incredible Bulk roller coaster and Slider-man 3D thrill ride!
I understand being required to carry car insurance because I may harm someone else, but why must I be forced to carry health insurance? Of course I have coverage now, but if I was single and healthy I would consider skipping it (if given that option by our heavy-handed President.)
Monday, June 08, 2009
Somewhere, The Colonel Is Pissed.
Kentucky Grilled Chicken? Really? Let's forget the stupid slogan, "Unthink." Let's forget the knuckleheadedness (Hey, if they can make up a word so can I.) of knocking what you do best. Why can't people just stick with what they know? Dammit, there is still a place in this world for artery clogging, deep fried, grease dripping, extra crispy chicken skin. You guys are still going to sell plenty of buckets because, trust me, fat guys everywhere are working very hard to NOT unthink. You want to serve a new product? Keep the chicken and the bones and sell me a bucket of extra crispy skin. KFS!
After weeks of being bombarded with the ads and hearing one positive testimonial from a friend, I caved and bought a ten piece bucket of KGC. My mistake. Well, first, let me list the positive. I expected the grill marks to be painted on, as fake as the yellow cheese color of the mac & cheese. Much to my surprise, the grill marks appear to be real. The negatives? Still greasy (which maybe in this argument I should list as a positive), bland tasting (maybe all the finger-lickin' flavor is in the frying oil) and apparently their new grill shrinks the chicken. Seriously, these were the dinkiest pieces of chicken I have ever been served. Kate Moss, at her coke-addled worst, had more meat on her bones than did any of these ten pieces. The breasts (the chicken's not Kate Moss's) were the size of normal thighs, the thighs were the size of normal wings and I'd prefer the drumsticks be larger than the average drummette you get as buffalo wings. The bucket was half empty. Just like my head must have been when I decided to purchase the stuff in the first place.
After weeks of being bombarded with the ads and hearing one positive testimonial from a friend, I caved and bought a ten piece bucket of KGC. My mistake. Well, first, let me list the positive. I expected the grill marks to be painted on, as fake as the yellow cheese color of the mac & cheese. Much to my surprise, the grill marks appear to be real. The negatives? Still greasy (which maybe in this argument I should list as a positive), bland tasting (maybe all the finger-lickin' flavor is in the frying oil) and apparently their new grill shrinks the chicken. Seriously, these were the dinkiest pieces of chicken I have ever been served. Kate Moss, at her coke-addled worst, had more meat on her bones than did any of these ten pieces. The breasts (the chicken's not Kate Moss's) were the size of normal thighs, the thighs were the size of normal wings and I'd prefer the drumsticks be larger than the average drummette you get as buffalo wings. The bucket was half empty. Just like my head must have been when I decided to purchase the stuff in the first place.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tough Week
It's been a bit of a brutal week here at That's No Moon World Headquarters. Sometime while we were out of town on an overnight trip this past weekend, one of our cats, Bam-Bam, escaped from the house and has been missing since. We've canvassed the neighborhood, put up fliers, contacted the proper authorities and left food out all to no avail. Now that it's been five days, things look pretty bleak. We hoped he was lurking near the house because Bam-Bam is truly a fraidy cat. Having been an inside cat for his entire nine years, he has the street sense of a frozen turkey. In fact, he was voted Least Likely to Survive Outdoors by his high school classmates. Unfortunately, he wasn't just hiding out nearby waiting for us to come home.
So, after nearly a week of futile searching and following a few leads that went nowhere, I am reduced to rooting for the Disney ending. I hope one morning I'll open the door to find him weary from his outdoor adventure. He'll come in and regale us with his tale of the magnificent journey he took, telling us of the help he received from a puckish squirrel and the dim-witted, but hilarious rabbit. Alas, this is no movie and, unless Bam-Bam is better equipped to live outside than I think he is, I fear we've seen the last of him.
I didn't expect his escape to affect me as deeply as it has. Having never had pets as a kid, this is the first real loss of a pet that I've experienced. I know I like to joke about how much I hate the cats and being only an animal tolerator, but this has left me close to devastated. I just have to hope that either he has been scooped up by someone who is now taking good care of him or that he is having a grand time frolicking about the great outdoors. Imagining any other outcome just bums me out.
I probably won't be writing much, if at all, in the short term future because we have some other major business to attend to here shortly. Please don't worry, everyone is well; I'll explain soon enough.
So, after nearly a week of futile searching and following a few leads that went nowhere, I am reduced to rooting for the Disney ending. I hope one morning I'll open the door to find him weary from his outdoor adventure. He'll come in and regale us with his tale of the magnificent journey he took, telling us of the help he received from a puckish squirrel and the dim-witted, but hilarious rabbit. Alas, this is no movie and, unless Bam-Bam is better equipped to live outside than I think he is, I fear we've seen the last of him.
I didn't expect his escape to affect me as deeply as it has. Having never had pets as a kid, this is the first real loss of a pet that I've experienced. I know I like to joke about how much I hate the cats and being only an animal tolerator, but this has left me close to devastated. I just have to hope that either he has been scooped up by someone who is now taking good care of him or that he is having a grand time frolicking about the great outdoors. Imagining any other outcome just bums me out.
I probably won't be writing much, if at all, in the short term future because we have some other major business to attend to here shortly. Please don't worry, everyone is well; I'll explain soon enough.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Thud.
So... that was a bummer. But a little perspective is in order. A quick-fire list of thoughts as the Caps season expired.
*Losing in a Game 7 blows. Losing to the Pens in Game 7 is just the worst. I'll take my good natured ribbing from family that are legit Pens fans. What I can't stomach is all the bandwagon asshats whose hockey knowledge is no deeper than the 87 on their jersey. (Sadly, there are plenty of morons wearing Red #8s that fall into that same category.)
*Rarely do Game 7s (Games 7?) live up to the hype. That this series lived up to advance OVERhyping for six games was somewhat surprising. I thought this game might be a dud. Obviously, I was hoping it would be a dud in the other direction.
*Speaking of hype, it will be fun to watch the national media rush to tear down what they rushed to build up. (Ovie, the Caps, The Game That Will Save Hockey)
*Don Cherry must be masturbating into his plaid jacket.
*As much as I can't stand to praise Sidney Crosby, I must. He is many things-a whiny d-bag, a complainer, a mini-Mario and unfortunately, a great player. One thing I can't call him anymore is a pussy. He hangs around the tough parts of the rink and gets hard-nosed, dirty work goals. Having magnificent hands doesn't hurt either. I'm gonna go vomit now.
*I wasn't surprised that the Caps lost tonight, but I sure was surprised by how they lost. It's hard to believe that they played their worst game of the season on a night that required their best. I told Killer earlier today that if they started tonight like they started game 7 against the Rangers, the Caps would get their doors blown off. I don't like it when I'm right. Did they hit the ice flat? I'm not so sure, but it didn't take long to turn into a clunker. Certainly, Fleury's save on the Ovechkin breakaway set a tone. It pumps one bench and deflates another. Then the "8 second" goal just kicks the team in the nuts. Finally, the Guerin goal 30 seconds into the second period really erases any confidence that you can bounce back from a terrible first period.
*I said before the series began that no matter what happened I would be happy with the season the Caps completed. Once the disappointment of tonight wears off it will be easier to see the progress that was made. The team advanced further than last year. Sometimes there is a steep learning curve. I think the future is very bright for this young team. On the other hand, there are a lot of good young teams that aren't just going to let the rise of Ovechkin and the Caps occur like some kind of coronation. Two of them (the Hawks and the Pens) are still playing, gaining even more experience. There will be many more battles like this series in the coming years.
*I was very happy to see the majority of fans stayed at Verizon Center after the final horn to salute what really was a fantastic season. I'm sure leaving the ice to chants of M-V-P will provide Alex Ovechkin little solace tonight, but hopefully it indicates that this fanbase is growing beyond a bunch of fair-weather bandwagon jumpers.
*I was lucky to have an awesome season watching the Caps in person. It was a great decision to become a 6-game "season ticket holder". Had a blast with my ticket buddies, learning much about seat ettiquette and learning that it is best not to "Drown the Anger" when seat ettiquette has been violated. Through other generosity I was also able to watch two games from the club level including an AO hat trick in February and the turning-point game 5 of the Rangers series. All in all, I was 6-2 in person but unbeaten in the fun department. A truly great season in an awesome atmosphere.
*Finally, tonight is further evidence of what my friends and I have known for a long time-it is hard to be a Caps fan. There are many great joys which are often outweighed by the sting of playoff hardship. I truly believe that all the crap piled on decade after decade will only make the moment that much sweeter as we someday watch the Cup parade down Pennsylvania Ave. Until then, keep Rockin' the Red. Let's Go Caps.
*Losing in a Game 7 blows. Losing to the Pens in Game 7 is just the worst. I'll take my good natured ribbing from family that are legit Pens fans. What I can't stomach is all the bandwagon asshats whose hockey knowledge is no deeper than the 87 on their jersey. (Sadly, there are plenty of morons wearing Red #8s that fall into that same category.)
*Rarely do Game 7s (Games 7?) live up to the hype. That this series lived up to advance OVERhyping for six games was somewhat surprising. I thought this game might be a dud. Obviously, I was hoping it would be a dud in the other direction.
*Speaking of hype, it will be fun to watch the national media rush to tear down what they rushed to build up. (Ovie, the Caps, The Game That Will Save Hockey)
*Don Cherry must be masturbating into his plaid jacket.
*As much as I can't stand to praise Sidney Crosby, I must. He is many things-a whiny d-bag, a complainer, a mini-Mario and unfortunately, a great player. One thing I can't call him anymore is a pussy. He hangs around the tough parts of the rink and gets hard-nosed, dirty work goals. Having magnificent hands doesn't hurt either. I'm gonna go vomit now.
*I wasn't surprised that the Caps lost tonight, but I sure was surprised by how they lost. It's hard to believe that they played their worst game of the season on a night that required their best. I told Killer earlier today that if they started tonight like they started game 7 against the Rangers, the Caps would get their doors blown off. I don't like it when I'm right. Did they hit the ice flat? I'm not so sure, but it didn't take long to turn into a clunker. Certainly, Fleury's save on the Ovechkin breakaway set a tone. It pumps one bench and deflates another. Then the "8 second" goal just kicks the team in the nuts. Finally, the Guerin goal 30 seconds into the second period really erases any confidence that you can bounce back from a terrible first period.
*I said before the series began that no matter what happened I would be happy with the season the Caps completed. Once the disappointment of tonight wears off it will be easier to see the progress that was made. The team advanced further than last year. Sometimes there is a steep learning curve. I think the future is very bright for this young team. On the other hand, there are a lot of good young teams that aren't just going to let the rise of Ovechkin and the Caps occur like some kind of coronation. Two of them (the Hawks and the Pens) are still playing, gaining even more experience. There will be many more battles like this series in the coming years.
*I was very happy to see the majority of fans stayed at Verizon Center after the final horn to salute what really was a fantastic season. I'm sure leaving the ice to chants of M-V-P will provide Alex Ovechkin little solace tonight, but hopefully it indicates that this fanbase is growing beyond a bunch of fair-weather bandwagon jumpers.
*I was lucky to have an awesome season watching the Caps in person. It was a great decision to become a 6-game "season ticket holder". Had a blast with my ticket buddies, learning much about seat ettiquette and learning that it is best not to "Drown the Anger" when seat ettiquette has been violated. Through other generosity I was also able to watch two games from the club level including an AO hat trick in February and the turning-point game 5 of the Rangers series. All in all, I was 6-2 in person but unbeaten in the fun department. A truly great season in an awesome atmosphere.
*Finally, tonight is further evidence of what my friends and I have known for a long time-it is hard to be a Caps fan. There are many great joys which are often outweighed by the sting of playoff hardship. I truly believe that all the crap piled on decade after decade will only make the moment that much sweeter as we someday watch the Cup parade down Pennsylvania Ave. Until then, keep Rockin' the Red. Let's Go Caps.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The best goal I never saw.
Last night's David Steckel OT game-winner that propelled the Caps to Game 7 was, what, the 4th biggest goal scored in Caps' playoff history? I'd say number one would be Joe Juneau poking it past Hasek in OT to send Washington to its only trip to the Cup finals. I'd say number two would be Dale Hunter abusing Hextall to finish Game 7 OT versus the Flyers many moons ago. Third is tough, but I'd have to go with Sergei Fedorov ousting the Rangers in round one this year. Then I put Steckel's tip job from last night. I make this list to point out that I watched live half of the four greatest goals in Caps playoff history. I remember Juneau's like it was yesterday and leaped for joy when Fedorov connected a couple weeks ago. Which means...That's right, after years of torment by the Penguins, after seeing not one but two Pens OT winners bounce in off Capital defensemen in the last week, after riding the roller coaster that was regulation of Game 6 including rocking like Leo Mazzone on crystal meth through the final two minute penalty kill, I did not actually see David Steckel's game-winner when it happened.
We had eaten dinner and watched the first three periods of the game at my aunt's house. Had a lovely time, despite the ulcer inducing third period. Once the horn sounded, it was time to pack up and head for home in time to watch OT. Except that now with a seven-month-old, the packing up doesn't quite go as fast as it used to. High chair? Check. Diaper bag, food, toys? Check. Okay, let's hit it. Oh, yes, you're right, we should probably take the girl. Of course, then Mother Nature conspired to slow our ride with some heavy rain.
Finally, we make it home and I pick up the Comcast remote. The goddamn, convoluted, All On-button-that-never-works Comcast remote control. First the sound comes up but I realize the TV is still black. Furiously grabbing the remote, my fat fingers hit every button but the TV power. Finally, the green light on the TV starts flashing, but this TV takes FOREVER to warm up. Then I hear Joe B. shout the word SCORE! It sounds like good news, but after SCORE! I seem to have gone momentarily stupid as my brain races to piece together what it is hearing. Finally, after like ten minutes (or, more likely, four seconds) the color pops up and I am relieved to see the Caps merrily celebrating at center ice. Sweet relief, but instant disappointment as I realize that, though I am ecstatic over the victory, I missed out on the payoff moment. I missed the building tension and antsy feelings of OT leading up to the dramatic conclusion. I missed out on the joy of witnessing, at least with my eyeballs, the moment when enough was enough and Washington got a measure of payback against Pittsburgh. This will sound really corny, but I missed out on the shared experience that my far flung buddies and I have as we watch these games together. I hope the boys in Red have one more magic victory in them tomorrow night. And I hope like hell that destiny lets me hear and see this one. Rock the Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
We had eaten dinner and watched the first three periods of the game at my aunt's house. Had a lovely time, despite the ulcer inducing third period. Once the horn sounded, it was time to pack up and head for home in time to watch OT. Except that now with a seven-month-old, the packing up doesn't quite go as fast as it used to. High chair? Check. Diaper bag, food, toys? Check. Okay, let's hit it. Oh, yes, you're right, we should probably take the girl. Of course, then Mother Nature conspired to slow our ride with some heavy rain.
Finally, we make it home and I pick up the Comcast remote. The goddamn, convoluted, All On-button-that-never-works Comcast remote control. First the sound comes up but I realize the TV is still black. Furiously grabbing the remote, my fat fingers hit every button but the TV power. Finally, the green light on the TV starts flashing, but this TV takes FOREVER to warm up. Then I hear Joe B. shout the word SCORE! It sounds like good news, but after SCORE! I seem to have gone momentarily stupid as my brain races to piece together what it is hearing. Finally, after like ten minutes (or, more likely, four seconds) the color pops up and I am relieved to see the Caps merrily celebrating at center ice. Sweet relief, but instant disappointment as I realize that, though I am ecstatic over the victory, I missed out on the payoff moment. I missed the building tension and antsy feelings of OT leading up to the dramatic conclusion. I missed out on the joy of witnessing, at least with my eyeballs, the moment when enough was enough and Washington got a measure of payback against Pittsburgh. This will sound really corny, but I missed out on the shared experience that my far flung buddies and I have as we watch these games together. I hope the boys in Red have one more magic victory in them tomorrow night. And I hope like hell that destiny lets me hear and see this one. Rock the Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Who's more the fool, the fool or the fool that follows him?
And there it was. 3:28 into overtime. Barely enough time to settle into the extra session. Had you headed to the arena men's room at the end of regulation you may have still been in the john. Or seen it on a concourse tv monitor as you hustled back to your seat. 3:28 into OT, 1:59 into the killing of a penalty that had to be called, even in playoff OT. Nary half an hour after The Great Eight had seemingly, once again, rescued a season, the Penguins had, somehow, done it again. It was a fluky goal to be sure, but with Pittsburgh fluky is the norm. And, truthfully, whether it was a bad bounce or a sure-eyed laser from the slot, it was a dagger to the heart all the same. A dagger that made the bit of optimism that Ovechkin's goal rekindled seem trivial, silly. A dagger that hushed the crowd and made Monday night win or go home for the Capitals. A dagger that sent me on a cooling off walk up and down my driveway that probably lasted longer than the overtime session.
The goal was so expected that my phone didn't buzz with a single text message from fellow fans after the game. There was no need for communication, we were all thinking the same thing. We are students of history and need no flash cards or pop quizzes to jog our memory. This was just the latest installment in a story of hockey heartbreak. Sure, the driveway walk used to be a ripping of the sweater or the smashing of a remote control. Maybe I'm more mellow, but I'm no less frustrated. Two decades of this frustration leads to a little pessimism, a little paranoia and a whole lot of "Here we go again". I knew this series was over when the Caps took a 2 games to none lead. Pens had 'em right where they wanted them. I knew this series was over when Game 3 went to overtime. I knew the series was over when the shot tipped off Varly's glove and trickled in during Game 4. But see, now I'm not so sure.
I still have an inkling of a sliver of a wisp of hope that the Caps can still pull this off. Make no mistake, hope is all that remains. Common sense, history, statistics, trends and the curse all hopped the midnight shuttle to Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll be made a fool on Monday or Wednesday, but I won't be made a fool until every bit of hope is officially destroyed. Because if there is a chance, then a fan's duty is to believe. This team, over many years, has not reciprocated the love its fans have shown. At least not in terms of playoff success. However, a real fan cheers because they enjoy the team, not solely because the team is good. And I love this team; when on, they play a style that is fun to watch. Maybe these kids, and let's not forget that is what most of them still are, really do need to pushed to the brink to bring out their best. We know they are good enough, now they must show us that they want it bad enough. I'm just dumb enough to think they can, that this year is different. So stow the doom and gloom for at least one more day. Rock The Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
The goal was so expected that my phone didn't buzz with a single text message from fellow fans after the game. There was no need for communication, we were all thinking the same thing. We are students of history and need no flash cards or pop quizzes to jog our memory. This was just the latest installment in a story of hockey heartbreak. Sure, the driveway walk used to be a ripping of the sweater or the smashing of a remote control. Maybe I'm more mellow, but I'm no less frustrated. Two decades of this frustration leads to a little pessimism, a little paranoia and a whole lot of "Here we go again". I knew this series was over when the Caps took a 2 games to none lead. Pens had 'em right where they wanted them. I knew this series was over when Game 3 went to overtime. I knew the series was over when the shot tipped off Varly's glove and trickled in during Game 4. But see, now I'm not so sure.
I still have an inkling of a sliver of a wisp of hope that the Caps can still pull this off. Make no mistake, hope is all that remains. Common sense, history, statistics, trends and the curse all hopped the midnight shuttle to Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll be made a fool on Monday or Wednesday, but I won't be made a fool until every bit of hope is officially destroyed. Because if there is a chance, then a fan's duty is to believe. This team, over many years, has not reciprocated the love its fans have shown. At least not in terms of playoff success. However, a real fan cheers because they enjoy the team, not solely because the team is good. And I love this team; when on, they play a style that is fun to watch. Maybe these kids, and let's not forget that is what most of them still are, really do need to pushed to the brink to bring out their best. We know they are good enough, now they must show us that they want it bad enough. I'm just dumb enough to think they can, that this year is different. So stow the doom and gloom for at least one more day. Rock The Red. Keep the Faith. Let's Go Caps.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Father of the Year.
Like most parents do with their own kids, I sing silly songs to Grace all the time. Sometimes I make up lyrics and a tune, but since I really have little to no musical talent, I usually sing goofy new lyrics to existing tunes. Lately I've noticed an alarming tendency to sing clean lyrics to the tune of dirty songs that would never ever be appropriate to sing to my six month old daughter.
Examples:when making her bottle- Oh, me so hungry. Oh, oh me so hungry. Me eat for long time.
While she's really jumping in her bouncy seat-She's a very bouncy girl, who really loves her mama. She's Super Grace, Super Grace, She's Super Gracie.
Please, no one call Child Protective Services.
Examples:when making her bottle- Oh, me so hungry. Oh, oh me so hungry. Me eat for long time.
While she's really jumping in her bouncy seat-She's a very bouncy girl, who really loves her mama. She's Super Grace, Super Grace, She's Super Gracie.
Please, no one call Child Protective Services.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
"Welcome to the Circus"
The only thing more improbable than the Caps' Game 7 win over the Rangers was the height of my leap off the couch when Sergei Federov scored the game-winning goal. My fat ass has not jumped that high in a long time. Amanda was afraid I was going to crash into something as I leapt over Grace's play mat(Grace wasn't on it) and took a lap around the kitchen silently screaming (so as to not alarm Grace). Think about it, a Caps fan, weighed on by the memories of past playoff failures, had to be an incurable optomist to think this team could complete the comeback against the Rangers. The Caps have compiled quite the greatest hits album of hope crushers before Tuesday night: Losing six out of seven game 7s. Peter Nedved. The Jagr Experiment. The Easter Epic. Last year's comeback falling short versus the Flyers. Too many blown three games to one leads. Esa Tikkanen. That's why Tuesday's victory, despite being only a first round series victory, feels so important.
The victory allows a fan base to breathe, once again aware that there is such a thing as Round 2. It allows the mind to fill with all the great memories of Caps past that make us love this team in the first place:Hunter "in alone" versus Philly in 1988. Al Iafrate blistering radar guns at the All-Star weekend. Dino. Bonzai hanging five goals on the Lightning. Kono, Dahlen and Halpern working the cycle. Godzilla carrying a team all the way to the Finals. Joe Juneau slipping an OT winner past Hasek that sent grown men shrieking like little girls.
It allows a fan base to dissect and celebrate a wacky series that joins a host of wacky playoff series in the Caps yearbook. The loudest arena I've ever been inside. Avery being such a douche that his own team benches him. Ovie adding to his highlight reel in Game 5. Matt Bradley grinding his way to not one, but two goals. Tortarella melting down and squirting fans when he was the one that needed to cool off. Bruce Boudreau having the balls to hand the helm of The Dissapointment Express to a kid goalie. Simeon Varlamov having the balls to right the ship and make Bruuuuuce look like a genius. A Tom Poti sighting. A Brashear suspension. (Deserved, by the way. Perhaps too severe, but definitely deserved.) Federov bailing out a tight team that was on the verge of a setback to reputation and development.
The danger here is that now, perhaps, the Caps breathe too big a sigh of relief. With a goal of simply improving on last year, which they have now accomplished, they are playing with house money. But they shouldn't be just "happy to be here" in Round 2. This team is good enough to go much deeper. If they don't, I will still be happy with this season. However, it will hurt like hell to go out to the Pens. That's why, instead of feeling like an end, the victory over the Rangers must feel like a beginning. The Caps slayed one Ghost of Playoffs Past by winning a Game 7. Now comes playoff nemesis Pittsburgh, a team that gives every Caps fan the heebie-jeebies. Somebody cue Ray Parker Jr.; there is more work to be done.
The victory allows a fan base to breathe, once again aware that there is such a thing as Round 2. It allows the mind to fill with all the great memories of Caps past that make us love this team in the first place:Hunter "in alone" versus Philly in 1988. Al Iafrate blistering radar guns at the All-Star weekend. Dino. Bonzai hanging five goals on the Lightning. Kono, Dahlen and Halpern working the cycle. Godzilla carrying a team all the way to the Finals. Joe Juneau slipping an OT winner past Hasek that sent grown men shrieking like little girls.
It allows a fan base to dissect and celebrate a wacky series that joins a host of wacky playoff series in the Caps yearbook. The loudest arena I've ever been inside. Avery being such a douche that his own team benches him. Ovie adding to his highlight reel in Game 5. Matt Bradley grinding his way to not one, but two goals. Tortarella melting down and squirting fans when he was the one that needed to cool off. Bruce Boudreau having the balls to hand the helm of The Dissapointment Express to a kid goalie. Simeon Varlamov having the balls to right the ship and make Bruuuuuce look like a genius. A Tom Poti sighting. A Brashear suspension. (Deserved, by the way. Perhaps too severe, but definitely deserved.) Federov bailing out a tight team that was on the verge of a setback to reputation and development.
The danger here is that now, perhaps, the Caps breathe too big a sigh of relief. With a goal of simply improving on last year, which they have now accomplished, they are playing with house money. But they shouldn't be just "happy to be here" in Round 2. This team is good enough to go much deeper. If they don't, I will still be happy with this season. However, it will hurt like hell to go out to the Pens. That's why, instead of feeling like an end, the victory over the Rangers must feel like a beginning. The Caps slayed one Ghost of Playoffs Past by winning a Game 7. Now comes playoff nemesis Pittsburgh, a team that gives every Caps fan the heebie-jeebies. Somebody cue Ray Parker Jr.; there is more work to be done.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Caps, Beard Soldier On.
I honestly haven't been able to put together a cohesive post regarding the Caps' huge win over the Rangers on Tuesday. As a long suffering Caps fan it was almost too much to digest. I am shocked, elated, surprised and generally stunned that the Caps completed the trip back from being down three games to one. It's almost enough to drive the pessimist out of me. (yeah, right) I'll try to write something that makes sense in the coming days; until then enjoy this beautiful photo of my playoff peach fuzz. As you can see, it remains quite sad. Even sadder-this is the fullest, most robust beard I've ever grown. Ready for ZZ Top, I am not.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
"The Pig Is a Filthy Animal"
I guess Jules from Pulp Fiction was right to not "dig on swine". The swine flu was pretty easy to ignore when it popped up in Elsewhere, USA. Now that a couple of probable cases have been discovered in Anne Arundel County, however, the hypochondria in me has slipped into overdrive. I know, logically, that if I take the same precautions as I would during a normal cold and flu season that I should be fine. Unfortunately, the hypochondriac doesn't think logically. With the evening news barking in my ear, I'll wonder which of the people I pass in the grocery store is about to give me this new influenza bug. Truthfully, I'm far more worried about Grace than myself. I'd hate for her to be exposed, but a bubble doesn't seem very practical. Do they make Popemobile strollers?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Daddy Blooper.
Have you ever spilled coffee all over the inside of your trunk because you folded and stowed the stroller without remembering that the wife's full cup of joe was still in the cupholder? No? Your car thanks you.
Friday, April 24, 2009
The Beard Lives Another Day.
Through some serious good fortune I watched tonight's game 5 of the Caps-Rangers series from the club level at Verizon Center. I still think I know how this series ends, but I didn't let that stop me from enjoying tonight. What a game.
*Muckers and grinders everywhere are celebrating tonight after watching Matt Bradley pot two goals in the first period. One was a sweet deke and the other a cheapie that found a hole. Both goals gave the Caps some early mo and kept the crowd revved up.
* That was easily the loudest game I've attended. To use the tired expression, the atmosphere was electric. From the opening draw the crowd was nuts; there was a sustained buzz that I had never heard in that building before. The Caps did not need their fake decibel meter tonight; you could barely hear after the first goal. The only hiccup was the dope that apparently poured his beer on Ranger coach John Tortarella. I have no love for Tortarella, however that's just classless. That is the kind of thing that you might expect in NY or Philly. Though it was hilarious watching Jim Schoenfeld wrestle Torts on the bench preventing him from whacking the fan with a stick.
*Speaking of classless, the Rangers scratched Sean Avery tonight. It looked like they missed his edge. I was hoping to see him play so I could see him freighttrained in person. Oh well. Colton Orr kept up the dirty stuff, though, with the his clotheslining of Nick Backstrom. Bruce Boudreau was smart to keep his stars on the bench for the last five minutes of the game. If the score in game 6 gets out of hand it might explode into a bloodbath.
*Alex Ovechkin scored another incredible goal. This video does it no justice, the in-house replay showed just how great it was. He shrugs off one defender (Drury, I think) who tries to hit him, pushes the puck through the moving skates of Derrick Morris, kicks the puck back up to his stick, falls down and pushes it past Lundqvist. Silly stuff. The fans move to the edge of their seats every time he touches the puck. And are rewarded way more often than you would think possible.
*Simeon Varlomov earned his second shutout of the series. He wasn't dominant, but made every play. Even after the game, during the celebration, as someone slid the game puck towards him, he casually flipped it away from the net with his glove. H wasn't going to let any pucks behind him tonight.
So, after all that, as great as it was, the Caps still need two straight wins to win the series. Likely? No. But after what I saw and felt otnight, anything seems possible.
*Muckers and grinders everywhere are celebrating tonight after watching Matt Bradley pot two goals in the first period. One was a sweet deke and the other a cheapie that found a hole. Both goals gave the Caps some early mo and kept the crowd revved up.
* That was easily the loudest game I've attended. To use the tired expression, the atmosphere was electric. From the opening draw the crowd was nuts; there was a sustained buzz that I had never heard in that building before. The Caps did not need their fake decibel meter tonight; you could barely hear after the first goal. The only hiccup was the dope that apparently poured his beer on Ranger coach John Tortarella. I have no love for Tortarella, however that's just classless. That is the kind of thing that you might expect in NY or Philly. Though it was hilarious watching Jim Schoenfeld wrestle Torts on the bench preventing him from whacking the fan with a stick.
*Speaking of classless, the Rangers scratched Sean Avery tonight. It looked like they missed his edge. I was hoping to see him play so I could see him freighttrained in person. Oh well. Colton Orr kept up the dirty stuff, though, with the his clotheslining of Nick Backstrom. Bruce Boudreau was smart to keep his stars on the bench for the last five minutes of the game. If the score in game 6 gets out of hand it might explode into a bloodbath.
*Alex Ovechkin scored another incredible goal. This video does it no justice, the in-house replay showed just how great it was. He shrugs off one defender (Drury, I think) who tries to hit him, pushes the puck through the moving skates of Derrick Morris, kicks the puck back up to his stick, falls down and pushes it past Lundqvist. Silly stuff. The fans move to the edge of their seats every time he touches the puck. And are rewarded way more often than you would think possible.
*Simeon Varlomov earned his second shutout of the series. He wasn't dominant, but made every play. Even after the game, during the celebration, as someone slid the game puck towards him, he casually flipped it away from the net with his glove. H wasn't going to let any pucks behind him tonight.
So, after all that, as great as it was, the Caps still need two straight wins to win the series. Likely? No. But after what I saw and felt otnight, anything seems possible.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Not Yet Soured By Playoffs Past.
Gracie and I were Rocking the Red during the third period of the Caps' 4-0 shutout of the Rangers last night. Look how intently she's analyzing the Caps penalty kill unit. Or perhaps she's looking for an escape route. Either way, I was loving it. (Also, for my sanity, I've decided to write no more Caps posts until this series is over.)
Thursday, April 16, 2009
New Blog Alert
I've been meaning to post a new link for several weeks now. My beautiful bride is writing again, posting at With Grace. Hopefully you'll enjoy her tales of madcap adventures raising her cute kid and putting up with her incredibly handsome and brainy husband.
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