"It is bad enough that I had to listen to your mother tell me the entire time how romantic it was to watch Shakespeare, which I have hard time understanding, in the park, at night, under the stars but then to have some idiot propose to his girlfriend in front of the whole audience, I am never coming to one of your shows again."
And that was the review my dad gave my performance in Much Ado About Nothing. The "idiot" was a cast member named Jim who used the curtain call to propose to his girlfriend.
Six months later, in a tiny theater in Cheltenham with a different theater company, I asked my dad what he thought of my performance in the thriller Cat's Paw. My mother drug him to the show.
"Well, I nearly had a heart attack when you fired the gun, but that is a good thing because then I was awake for the rest of the show." he said. He then told me he would never come to another one of my shows again because his heart would not be able to take it.
Which reminded me of what he said we had 8 months earlier when he saw me in The Glass Menagerie. "Bill, you were great but that show was very boring. If you keep doing shows like that I am never coming to another show again."
As you can figure out my dad was not into live theater. If he knew someone in a production he may have gone, no strike that. If he was related to someone in a production he may have gone to see them. Of course when I started to act in the local community theaters in our area, although he was not thrilled about it, he made every effort to attend the shows.
A year or two after Cat's Paw, Dave, a guy I met during Much Ado About Nothing asked me to get involved in a modern production of Rope (Alfred Hitchcock made a film version). The production would involve some of the same people I met doing Shakespeare. We would perform at the same location; the only difference was that we would do the show inside in a very intimate makeshift theater "in the round". The stage would be floor level and the audience would be on risers looking down into the set. Rope is a dark drama about two college aged guys who strangle their friend and stuff him into a trunk. They then host a dinner party serving food off the trunk with the body inside. The intimate setting and the closeness of the actors would provide a very dramatic feel for the audience. The play is very dark and moody.
During the rehearsal process I became friends with most of the cast and we started talking about forming our own theater company. These were good people to work with and they knew their stuff. I did everything I could to impress them hoping they would keep me around. I told everyone I knew about the show hoping they would come out to support our fledgling group. I mentioned the show dates to my parents knowing that my dad, who recently had eye surgery, would not come.
A creative decision was made to start the play in almost complete darkness with the two murderers discussing their plans. This would set a very eerie, creepy tone for the audience. Instead of the normal "house" lights down stage lights up, we went with a very slow, methodical, increase in one blue-ish/purple-ish light that would cast an ominous glow on the two villains as they "set up" their diabolical plot. Eventually, over a time of about five minutes the stage lights would slowly increase to be at a normal level. This lighting trick with a touch of the right music would "bring the audience up to speed" in a very dark foreboding way.
Opening night, the cast and crew were full of nerves and energy knowing that we were close to selling out the small venue. We also knew that the local paper had sent a photographer and reviewer. "Places" was called and the entire cast sat in the wings of our stage to listen to the opening sequence. Dave, who was playing the evil Brandon, started with his dialog in the darkened room. Suddenly there were very loud whispers coming from the audience. Two people were doing their best not to disturb the rest of the audience as they struggled to get out of their seats and leave the theater. Their footsteps on the hollow risers echoed louder with each movement. The whispers grew louder and more panicky as they approached the stage area. Due to the very intimate setting, the only way out of the "theater in the round" was by walking right in front of the stage and through a blackened curtain. When they left the area the bright lights from the other side of the curtain blazed across the stage.
Dave, being a professional, kept his composure and continued on past the distraction. The rest of the show went very smoothly. During intermission and after the show everyone in the cast cursed and mocked the two old people who ruined the opening. Dave said it sounded as if an old man was having a panic attack and that the old lady with him was arguing with him. I even joined in the jokes about the old crazy couple.
The next day I received a phone call from my mom. She asked how the show went. I told her that it went well except the huge distraction at the beginning. She laughed. She then apologized and confessed that the two old crazy people we her and my dad.
My dad just had eye surgery the week before the show. When the play started he heard the voices but could not see the actors. He could only see a blueish haze. He thought that maybe he was having a complication or a set back to the surgery. He thought he was going blind. My mom tried to explain to him that he wasn't but the only thing he wanted to do was get somewhere where he could see before he would panic. My mom had to lead him out of the darkened theater.
That night I told the theater group that the crazy old people were my parents. I explained to them what happened and I offered an apology which they all accepted. I also then told them that I made my dad promise to never come to one my shows again.
But this time I made my dad mean it.
I will be performing in a production of the Pillowman next month with the same group I met those 12 or so years ago. If you live in the Philadelpia area and would like more information please email me at batmeaks at verizon dot net.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Dessert
Getting Wyatt to eat his dinner has been somewhat of a struggle. Some nights he eats but most nights he does not. There is no rhyme or reason to when he chooses to eat. Max did the same thing when he was about the same age so I know it probably is just a phase. Wyatt being the second child, I have learned not to put up a fight and just let him not eat. He knows that if he does not eat he does not get anything else for the rest of the night and he is usually okay with that.
The other night I had a hankering for a root beer float. I promised to go out and get the ingredients to make root beer floats for anyone who ate all their dinner. Lauren had made some turkey breast with noodles and a side of snow peas, all three of which I knew Wyatt would eat. He ate up his noodles, sampled the turkey and struggled with the snow peas. I told him he had to eat everything to get a float. I went about cleaning up and after a few minutes Wyatt's plate was clean.
"Good job Wyatt Blue." I said searching the floor and the surrounding area for any evidence that he tried to hide his food. The floor, table and chair were spotless.
"Did you eat all of your snow peas?" Lauren asked.
"Yes." Wyatt answered. "Can I have a root beer float?"
I told Lauren I was surprised that Wyatt ate everything and that I was shocked at the power of the root beer float. We discussed the possibility of Wyatt feeding the snow peas to Luna the dog, but we agreed that Luna would not touch snow peas. Also there would be evidence on the floor of snow pea scraps if he did.
Later that evening we all enjoyed root beer floats as special treat.
Later that night Wyatt woke up around midnight claiming his belly hurt. I started to walk him to the bathroom when he puked all over the hallway and eventually the bathroom floor. After we got him cleaned up, tucked into our bed and he was back to sleep, Lauren and I started to clean up the mess. I cleaned up bits of noodles and specks of turkey that were sprayed down the hall in a creamy white goo that reeked of stomach acid and root beer.
We put away the cleaning supplies and got back to bed.
"I hope he is all right." Lauren said.
"He does not feel feverish."
"There is a stomach bug going around his school." Lauren added.
"Well once he feels better he needs to go into a time out."
"What?"
"I cleaned up noodles and turkey but I did not see any evidence of snow peas, did you?"
Lauren laughed."No."
"He lied about eating the snow peas." I said. "Now I just want to figure out where they went."
The other night I had a hankering for a root beer float. I promised to go out and get the ingredients to make root beer floats for anyone who ate all their dinner. Lauren had made some turkey breast with noodles and a side of snow peas, all three of which I knew Wyatt would eat. He ate up his noodles, sampled the turkey and struggled with the snow peas. I told him he had to eat everything to get a float. I went about cleaning up and after a few minutes Wyatt's plate was clean.
"Good job Wyatt Blue." I said searching the floor and the surrounding area for any evidence that he tried to hide his food. The floor, table and chair were spotless.
"Did you eat all of your snow peas?" Lauren asked.
"Yes." Wyatt answered. "Can I have a root beer float?"
I told Lauren I was surprised that Wyatt ate everything and that I was shocked at the power of the root beer float. We discussed the possibility of Wyatt feeding the snow peas to Luna the dog, but we agreed that Luna would not touch snow peas. Also there would be evidence on the floor of snow pea scraps if he did.
Later that evening we all enjoyed root beer floats as special treat.
Later that night Wyatt woke up around midnight claiming his belly hurt. I started to walk him to the bathroom when he puked all over the hallway and eventually the bathroom floor. After we got him cleaned up, tucked into our bed and he was back to sleep, Lauren and I started to clean up the mess. I cleaned up bits of noodles and specks of turkey that were sprayed down the hall in a creamy white goo that reeked of stomach acid and root beer.
We put away the cleaning supplies and got back to bed.
"I hope he is all right." Lauren said.
"He does not feel feverish."
"There is a stomach bug going around his school." Lauren added.
"Well once he feels better he needs to go into a time out."
"What?"
"I cleaned up noodles and turkey but I did not see any evidence of snow peas, did you?"
Lauren laughed."No."
"He lied about eating the snow peas." I said. "Now I just want to figure out where they went."
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Blind Spot
When I take the kids out to public places, like the mall or supermarket, I try to appear to be all cool calm and collected. On the surface I try to give the appearance like I have everything under control, that I am giving the kids their space, letting them be kids (without them overstepping their bounds) giving them safe distance to discover the world around them. In my head, under the surface, I am working like mad trying to keep everything and everyone in check, targeting dangers, potential awkward or bad situations and awkward or bad people and steering the kids away. Sometimes, no, most times, under the surface, I stress myself out.
Recently, Wyatt has discovered a way, some strange ability really, to always find my blind spot. If we are on the front yard playing Wyatt finds a way to play behind a bush or trashcan. If we are at the playground he discovers something neat to play with under the sliding board where I can not see him. Wyatt's blind spot ability has manifested itself where he disappears in plain sight. We will be walking through a store and in my peripheral vision I have both kids in sight when all of the sudden Wyatt disappears. It is always at that exact moment when he vanishes, where my stress, under the surface, comes popping up to the top. I have mini panic attacks.
"Where's Wyatt?" I snap in desperation and panic, my heart racing thinking that someone may have snatched him up.
"I right here dad." Wyatt responds from a foot behind me, not hiding, just standing in the exact spot I cannot see him. He is always just a step out of my line of vision.
The other day I took Max and Wyatt to the community theater to help with a set build. They played out in the seats as I worked on stage. I kept my eyes and ears open as I built wall flats and whatnot. I must have asked a dozen times, "where is Wyatt?" Only to have a friend say "he is right there" as they pointed to a spot in the darkened audience, where I swear he wasn't there only a second ago.
I was reading Klutz Encyclopedia of Immaturity the other day and I discovered there is a test to find your eye's blind spot. Here is an online version.* I realized that Wyatt must have discovered a way to always be standing in my eye's blind spot. I already feel bad that he is going to suffer from Middle Child Syndrome but now he is learning to disappear on his own.
*How many people just got a face smudge on their computer screens from trying the blind spot test?
Recently, Wyatt has discovered a way, some strange ability really, to always find my blind spot. If we are on the front yard playing Wyatt finds a way to play behind a bush or trashcan. If we are at the playground he discovers something neat to play with under the sliding board where I can not see him. Wyatt's blind spot ability has manifested itself where he disappears in plain sight. We will be walking through a store and in my peripheral vision I have both kids in sight when all of the sudden Wyatt disappears. It is always at that exact moment when he vanishes, where my stress, under the surface, comes popping up to the top. I have mini panic attacks.
"Where's Wyatt?" I snap in desperation and panic, my heart racing thinking that someone may have snatched him up.
"I right here dad." Wyatt responds from a foot behind me, not hiding, just standing in the exact spot I cannot see him. He is always just a step out of my line of vision.
The other day I took Max and Wyatt to the community theater to help with a set build. They played out in the seats as I worked on stage. I kept my eyes and ears open as I built wall flats and whatnot. I must have asked a dozen times, "where is Wyatt?" Only to have a friend say "he is right there" as they pointed to a spot in the darkened audience, where I swear he wasn't there only a second ago.
I was reading Klutz Encyclopedia of Immaturity the other day and I discovered there is a test to find your eye's blind spot. Here is an online version.* I realized that Wyatt must have discovered a way to always be standing in my eye's blind spot. I already feel bad that he is going to suffer from Middle Child Syndrome but now he is learning to disappear on his own.
*How many people just got a face smudge on their computer screens from trying the blind spot test?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Fake Hurry Up Shuffle
Does anyone remember Sniglets?
Maybe there is already a word, I don't know, but I am, trying to come up with a word that describes the following.
You pull into a parking lot at the mall or super market and as you are driving down the entry way a pedestrian steps onto the curb. You, being the nice driver, stop and wave them across, giving them a safe walkway in front of you. The pedestrian then smiles, gives you a silent "thank you" wave and they proceed to cross the street. As a sign of their appreciation they try to hurry across, but they are not really hurrying, they are only moving their arms faster, their legs are not actually going any faster than a normal walk. The pedestrian is really just giving the illusion that they are trying to be faster but actually they are just shuffling across the road.
I call it the Fake Hurry Up Shuffle, but I think there needs to be a word for this. Any suggestions?
The winners from last Friday's contest, the two who guessed the closest without going over are Shannon who guessed $72.14 and Carter who guessed $69. (heh heh). The total Lauren and I spent at the Giant was $72.26. Thanks everyone for playing. Kraft also thanks you. Please check out their website.
Shannon and Carter please contact me at batmeaks at Verizon dot net. If I do not hear from you in the next 48 hours I will have to pick another winner.
Maybe there is already a word, I don't know, but I am, trying to come up with a word that describes the following.
You pull into a parking lot at the mall or super market and as you are driving down the entry way a pedestrian steps onto the curb. You, being the nice driver, stop and wave them across, giving them a safe walkway in front of you. The pedestrian then smiles, gives you a silent "thank you" wave and they proceed to cross the street. As a sign of their appreciation they try to hurry across, but they are not really hurrying, they are only moving their arms faster, their legs are not actually going any faster than a normal walk. The pedestrian is really just giving the illusion that they are trying to be faster but actually they are just shuffling across the road.
I call it the Fake Hurry Up Shuffle, but I think there needs to be a word for this. Any suggestions?
The winners from last Friday's contest, the two who guessed the closest without going over are Shannon who guessed $72.14 and Carter who guessed $69. (heh heh). The total Lauren and I spent at the Giant was $72.26. Thanks everyone for playing. Kraft also thanks you. Please check out their website.
Shannon and Carter please contact me at batmeaks at Verizon dot net. If I do not hear from you in the next 48 hours I will have to pick another winner.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Meal Planning
My wife Lauren kind of made a new years resolution to be more organized, which, by some strange rules of marriage, means that I too , somehow, made the same resolution, which by some strange rule means I now have to clean up after myself and put things away "where they belong, not where you think they go."
One of the ways I wanted to try and reign in the chaos was to become more organized with how we do our food shopping. Planning meals and making accurate shopping lists, not only would our day to day lives easier but we could also save money by budgeting and only making one trip to the grocery store.
When we lived in Florida I made an Excel spreadsheet based on the contents of each aisle of the Publix super market where we shopped. It took some time to do but it was worth it. When I made our shopping list I sorted the items on the list by aisle number, shopping was never so easy. I never had to back track in the store because I forgot to get peanut butter and pass the snack aisle again and accidentally put 2 barrels of cheese balls into the cart. I shopped efficiently which saved time and money. Since moving back to PA I have yet to make a list like that.
A couple of weeks ago I received an email from Edelman who were doing some work with Kraft Foods. They wanted to know if I would interested in reviewing Kraft's new APP for the BlackBerry, Kraft Food iFood Assistant. Their website said the APP had a built in shopping list function which I thought would be perfect for me. Downloading the APP to my BlackBerry was free and Kraft offered to send me an AMEX gift card to "try the APP". Here is a disclaimer: I have been compensated by Kraft Foods to cover the cost of groceries to try out recipes and features on their iFood Assistant Lite 2.0 and to conduct a reader giveaway. My opinions are entirely my own and I have not been paid to post positive sentiments Kraft Foods or their mobile device offerings.
After receiving the AMEX gift card Lauren and I decided to try Kraft's 1 Bag 5 Dinners feature on their website. I clicked on the various menu buttons, adding the ingredients to my shopping list which would be accessible from my BlackBerry. I also printed the list and recipes from their website as backup. Lauren and I thought the whole experiment in planning our weekly meals would be fun and how cool that our first try would be on Kraft's dime. Lauren and I also put together our regular food shopping list for the week and we headed to the Giant Food Super Store.
Once in the store I tried to open the iFood application on my BlackBerry. It would not open. There was no decent signal. I then remembered that I can never get a decent signal in any large box store, ever. I kept trying and trying to load the APP but it would not work. I tried by the deli, nothing. I tried in the bakery, nothing. I tried in dairy, meat and seasonal sections and still nothing. It was very frustrating. It was good thing that I printed the list. We filled our cart with the Kraft ingredients as well as other items we would need and proceeded to the check out.
The check out clerk gave us our total. I swiped the AMEX gift card to compensate for the Kraft purchases. The card did not work. I swiped it again, nothing. There was that awkward moment where the clerk kind of rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was an idiot that did not know how to swipe a card. I told her it was a an AMEX gift card so maybe that was the problem. Which she then confirmed that it was a problem. Giant Food Stores does not accept American Express. I did the whole credit card shuffle in my wallet and presented my bank card to pay for our food.
Our fun experiment was becoming annoying.
Sorry, this post just became a Dennis Story (a Dennis Story is any story that goes on too long, named after my brother Dennis who does not know how to tell a short story).
Anyway, the actual recipes that we tried for the week, the whole 1 bag 5 meals, were all really really good. Each recipe for the week included using Kraft Lite Zesty Italian Dressing which really added a great flavor to each meal. One of the meals we used the dressing, instead of oil or butter, to saute onions, which I thought was a great idea. The APP itself is a great way to get recipes although I prefer just using their website. The practicality of the APP, being on a mobile device is not really, well, practical in my opinion. The shopping list feature, which to me is the one thing you would need the mobility of the APP for, could use major improvements. I do plan to use the Kraft website more often in the future for their recipes as well as their meal planning tips. They have a section Prep-and-Freeze which looks cool and useful.
As part of the deal for me trying their iFood Assistant, Kraft gave me two $50. gift card to give away to readers. So for a chance to win a $50 gift card we are going to play Price is Right. In the comments the two people who guess the total dollar amount Lauren and I spent at the Giant on our shopping trip (closest to the amount without going over) will receive one of the gift cards. Only one guess per person and I will not accept duplicate amounts so please read other peoples guesses. The gift cards are only valid for the US (but not at Giant).As a hint we spent over 40 but under 100 bucks. Remember the total is not just the Kraft items but our whole shopping trip. I will stop take guesses on Sunday 1/24/2010 at midnight. If you do not have a Blogger account (or a way for me to contact you) leave a comment but also email me at batmeaks at verizon dot net.
I will contact the winners on Monday.
One of the ways I wanted to try and reign in the chaos was to become more organized with how we do our food shopping. Planning meals and making accurate shopping lists, not only would our day to day lives easier but we could also save money by budgeting and only making one trip to the grocery store.
When we lived in Florida I made an Excel spreadsheet based on the contents of each aisle of the Publix super market where we shopped. It took some time to do but it was worth it. When I made our shopping list I sorted the items on the list by aisle number, shopping was never so easy. I never had to back track in the store because I forgot to get peanut butter and pass the snack aisle again and accidentally put 2 barrels of cheese balls into the cart. I shopped efficiently which saved time and money. Since moving back to PA I have yet to make a list like that.
A couple of weeks ago I received an email from Edelman who were doing some work with Kraft Foods. They wanted to know if I would interested in reviewing Kraft's new APP for the BlackBerry, Kraft Food iFood Assistant. Their website said the APP had a built in shopping list function which I thought would be perfect for me. Downloading the APP to my BlackBerry was free and Kraft offered to send me an AMEX gift card to "try the APP". Here is a disclaimer: I have been compensated by Kraft Foods to cover the cost of groceries to try out recipes and features on their iFood Assistant Lite 2.0 and to conduct a reader giveaway. My opinions are entirely my own and I have not been paid to post positive sentiments Kraft Foods or their mobile device offerings.
After receiving the AMEX gift card Lauren and I decided to try Kraft's 1 Bag 5 Dinners feature on their website. I clicked on the various menu buttons, adding the ingredients to my shopping list which would be accessible from my BlackBerry. I also printed the list and recipes from their website as backup. Lauren and I thought the whole experiment in planning our weekly meals would be fun and how cool that our first try would be on Kraft's dime. Lauren and I also put together our regular food shopping list for the week and we headed to the Giant Food Super Store.
Once in the store I tried to open the iFood application on my BlackBerry. It would not open. There was no decent signal. I then remembered that I can never get a decent signal in any large box store, ever. I kept trying and trying to load the APP but it would not work. I tried by the deli, nothing. I tried in the bakery, nothing. I tried in dairy, meat and seasonal sections and still nothing. It was very frustrating. It was good thing that I printed the list. We filled our cart with the Kraft ingredients as well as other items we would need and proceeded to the check out.
The check out clerk gave us our total. I swiped the AMEX gift card to compensate for the Kraft purchases. The card did not work. I swiped it again, nothing. There was that awkward moment where the clerk kind of rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was an idiot that did not know how to swipe a card. I told her it was a an AMEX gift card so maybe that was the problem. Which she then confirmed that it was a problem. Giant Food Stores does not accept American Express. I did the whole credit card shuffle in my wallet and presented my bank card to pay for our food.
Our fun experiment was becoming annoying.
Sorry, this post just became a Dennis Story (a Dennis Story is any story that goes on too long, named after my brother Dennis who does not know how to tell a short story).
Anyway, the actual recipes that we tried for the week, the whole 1 bag 5 meals, were all really really good. Each recipe for the week included using Kraft Lite Zesty Italian Dressing which really added a great flavor to each meal. One of the meals we used the dressing, instead of oil or butter, to saute onions, which I thought was a great idea. The APP itself is a great way to get recipes although I prefer just using their website. The practicality of the APP, being on a mobile device is not really, well, practical in my opinion. The shopping list feature, which to me is the one thing you would need the mobility of the APP for, could use major improvements. I do plan to use the Kraft website more often in the future for their recipes as well as their meal planning tips. They have a section Prep-and-Freeze which looks cool and useful.
As part of the deal for me trying their iFood Assistant, Kraft gave me two $50. gift card to give away to readers. So for a chance to win a $50 gift card we are going to play Price is Right. In the comments the two people who guess the total dollar amount Lauren and I spent at the Giant on our shopping trip (closest to the amount without going over) will receive one of the gift cards. Only one guess per person and I will not accept duplicate amounts so please read other peoples guesses. The gift cards are only valid for the US (but not at Giant).As a hint we spent over 40 but under 100 bucks. Remember the total is not just the Kraft items but our whole shopping trip. I will stop take guesses on Sunday 1/24/2010 at midnight. If you do not have a Blogger account (or a way for me to contact you) leave a comment but also email me at batmeaks at verizon dot net.
I will contact the winners on Monday.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Not Popular
I was telling Lauren how I emailed Potopabfc (President of the Official Poop and Boogies Fan Club) Alisha on Facebook asking for her input on an idea I had for the club. I may or may not have sounded like I was bragging to my wife about how I wanted to do a special give away just for FB people now that I had 103 members. I may or may not have stressed the fact that I had over one hundred fans.
Lauren laughed and said, "You only have a 103. Wow I have 104 fans on my Gigglepotamus page and I don't even update."
I was like...Wha? Wha? Wha? And I may or may not have called "shenanigans."
I then told her I was going to un-sign up from her fan club so we would be even. Then she threatened to un-sign up from mine.
I then told her I was going to post this and she said, "I call shenanigans. You are going post this on your blog just so you can try to be more popular."
Which may or may not be true.
Lauren laughed and said, "You only have a 103. Wow I have 104 fans on my Gigglepotamus page and I don't even update."
I was like...Wha? Wha? Wha? And I may or may not have called "shenanigans."
I then told her I was going to un-sign up from her fan club so we would be even. Then she threatened to un-sign up from mine.
I then told her I was going to post this and she said, "I call shenanigans. You are going post this on your blog just so you can try to be more popular."
Which may or may not be true.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Meat
I am the primary hunter gatherer for my clan. Since my wife and children refuse to paint images on our walls of me coming home with boxes of buy-one-get-one-free Stove Top Stuffing I have to brag to people about the awesome deals I find.
This past Saturday's hunt I came home with 11.5 pounds of pork. The Acme Market was having a sale on a Hatfield (a local meat supplier) bone in pork loin combination, which was a package of ribs, center cut chops and a sirloin roast for 99 cents a pound. (A side note, Lauren thinks I do too much impulse buying when I shop but seriously, 99 cents, I had to get as much as I could.) I felt very good about my hunt, very manly.
Me William. Me hunt food.
Part of the testosterone fueled caveman in me wanted to tie the package of meat to the hood of my car so everyone in the neighborhood could see the bounty of my hunt, but I didn't. I was, however, lucky enough to have my neighbor and Lauren chatting out front as I pulled into the driveway. I thought of holding the plastic wrapped, foam bottomed beast over my head and chanting as I unloaded the car, but I didn't. I carried all of the other groceries into the house first and them I made a big display of having to get the last bag.
As I carried the bag, with two hands mind you, I nodded to Lauren and my neighbor and said, "Acme is having a great sale on pork. I got 11 pounds of it right here."
I puffed out my chest a little bit hoping the two women would ask to see what was in the bag. I wanted to show the fruits of my hunt. I needed to brag, or boast, or something.
Lauren said, "Good Lord. We don't need that much meat."
My neighbor faked a smile and said, "Oh, I don't eat anything that walks on four legs."
I knew in the back of my head that pseudo-vegetarians would not want to see a package of butchered chops and ribs. I was deflated, but I did not give up hope.
"Oh that's okay I only buy pork from two legged pigs." I said hoping I could show the awesomeness of my purchase.
I got blank stares.
They went on to discuss how my neighbor only eats meat of the two-legged variety like chicken and turkey.
Then something happened to me which was very weird. Just as I was about to say something, a little image of Lauren rolling her eyes, her face turning pink and her apologizing for me, flashed across my brain. I opened my mouth, but thought better of what I was going to say, for Lauren's sake. This must be what a filter between the brain and mouth is like. I struggled to not say the thing I was thinking of, mumbled something and went in the house.
Later I told Lauren about the strange struggle in my mind about the pork conversation.
"What were you going to say?" Lauren asked me.
"Well when she said she only eats two legged animals I was going to ask her if she knew any good chimp or human recipes."
"I would have laughed at that." Lauren said.
"Great." I said. "The one time, in the history of our relationship, that I actually thought before I spoke, completely wasted."
Sidenote-My neighbor is one of the nicest people anyone could be lucky enough to have as a neighbor. Her decision not to eat meat is, as she explained but I did not include in the above post, a personal, health conscience decision. This post was not about her choice, or anyone else's choice to not eat meat.
This past Saturday's hunt I came home with 11.5 pounds of pork. The Acme Market was having a sale on a Hatfield (a local meat supplier) bone in pork loin combination, which was a package of ribs, center cut chops and a sirloin roast for 99 cents a pound. (A side note, Lauren thinks I do too much impulse buying when I shop but seriously, 99 cents, I had to get as much as I could.) I felt very good about my hunt, very manly.
Me William. Me hunt food.
Part of the testosterone fueled caveman in me wanted to tie the package of meat to the hood of my car so everyone in the neighborhood could see the bounty of my hunt, but I didn't. I was, however, lucky enough to have my neighbor and Lauren chatting out front as I pulled into the driveway. I thought of holding the plastic wrapped, foam bottomed beast over my head and chanting as I unloaded the car, but I didn't. I carried all of the other groceries into the house first and them I made a big display of having to get the last bag.
As I carried the bag, with two hands mind you, I nodded to Lauren and my neighbor and said, "Acme is having a great sale on pork. I got 11 pounds of it right here."
I puffed out my chest a little bit hoping the two women would ask to see what was in the bag. I wanted to show the fruits of my hunt. I needed to brag, or boast, or something.
Lauren said, "Good Lord. We don't need that much meat."
My neighbor faked a smile and said, "Oh, I don't eat anything that walks on four legs."
I knew in the back of my head that pseudo-vegetarians would not want to see a package of butchered chops and ribs. I was deflated, but I did not give up hope.
"Oh that's okay I only buy pork from two legged pigs." I said hoping I could show the awesomeness of my purchase.
I got blank stares.
They went on to discuss how my neighbor only eats meat of the two-legged variety like chicken and turkey.
Then something happened to me which was very weird. Just as I was about to say something, a little image of Lauren rolling her eyes, her face turning pink and her apologizing for me, flashed across my brain. I opened my mouth, but thought better of what I was going to say, for Lauren's sake. This must be what a filter between the brain and mouth is like. I struggled to not say the thing I was thinking of, mumbled something and went in the house.
Later I told Lauren about the strange struggle in my mind about the pork conversation.
"What were you going to say?" Lauren asked me.
"Well when she said she only eats two legged animals I was going to ask her if she knew any good chimp or human recipes."
"I would have laughed at that." Lauren said.
"Great." I said. "The one time, in the history of our relationship, that I actually thought before I spoke, completely wasted."
Sidenote-My neighbor is one of the nicest people anyone could be lucky enough to have as a neighbor. Her decision not to eat meat is, as she explained but I did not include in the above post, a personal, health conscience decision. This post was not about her choice, or anyone else's choice to not eat meat.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Looking Ahead
Last year I wrote a post about all the things I wanted to write about in 2009. I liked the way that “looking ahead” worked out for me. A few of the stories on my 2009 list did not happen so I will include them on my list of hopeful posts for 2010.
I really want to thank all of you who stop here and read my blog on a regular basis. I really enjoy the feedback, comments, links, laughs and community that y’all provide me every day.
Seriously, thank you.
What I hope to post about in 2010: Poop and Boogies turns 5 (with a possible give-away), a story about me winning the lottery, how I lost 20 pounds, a guest post by my brother Anonymous, stories about the show (the Pillowman)I am acting in, how I got to meet various bloggers, finishing begatting my man space, stories from the time I worked in the nightclub business, my trip to BlogHer, Frankie Pickle book review and how I had lunch with the author, making an appearance on Saturday Night Live (a dream of mine since High school), The Accident Story from when I was 11, A story about how I surprised my wife for her 36th birthday this March with diamonds (oh crap she reads this blog there goes that idea. I will need to think of another idea now.), meeting more famous people, how I was tied to a chair in 2nd grade, tripling my readership, a post about how the Official Poop and Boogies Facebook Fanclub (thanks Alisha) membership gets to the 150 mark, the story of my allergy to a tattoo, a post about taking MY mom to a book signing, a Bigfoot sighting, working with more advertisers, a road trip story would be great, William turns 40, more I Could Have Been a Contender stories, taking my mom to get a tattoo, How Edamame is overrated, my one day as a substitute Sunday School teacher, how I got a book deal, my college years (I did not go to college) stories, living in my car, and how I won blog awards.
I hope I can be funnier, more positive, and a better writer this year.
Some of the writings I listed above are events that have yet to happen. Some are stories from my past. There is an old saying that goes something like "If you travel the road to the past it is often littered with missed opportunities. Be careful you don't trip over them."
What I plan to do this year is explore that road to the past and pick up those pieces of "litter" and save them in the garage, (just like my wife saves pieces of moulding and chair rails and old mirrors or scraps of fabric, "because you just never know when you can use them"). Every now and then I will pull one out polish it and make a post out of it.
Please leave me a comment and let me know if there is anything you want to see here on Poop and Boogies. Or tell me whether you plan to call this year Twenty-ten, or Two Thousand-Ten or Two-Zero-One Zero.
Thursday is de-lurking day (brought to you, for me, by Rudecactus and Greeblemonkey), which means you are supposed to leave a comment. De-lurk, leave a comment.
I really want to thank all of you who stop here and read my blog on a regular basis. I really enjoy the feedback, comments, links, laughs and community that y’all provide me every day.
Seriously, thank you.
What I hope to post about in 2010: Poop and Boogies turns 5 (with a possible give-away), a story about me winning the lottery, how I lost 20 pounds, a guest post by my brother Anonymous, stories about the show (the Pillowman)I am acting in, how I got to meet various bloggers, finishing begatting my man space, stories from the time I worked in the nightclub business, my trip to BlogHer, Frankie Pickle book review and how I had lunch with the author, making an appearance on Saturday Night Live (a dream of mine since High school), The Accident Story from when I was 11, A story about how I surprised my wife for her 36th birthday this March with diamonds (oh crap she reads this blog there goes that idea. I will need to think of another idea now.), meeting more famous people, how I was tied to a chair in 2nd grade, tripling my readership, a post about how the Official Poop and Boogies Facebook Fanclub (thanks Alisha) membership gets to the 150 mark, the story of my allergy to a tattoo, a post about taking MY mom to a book signing, a Bigfoot sighting, working with more advertisers, a road trip story would be great, William turns 40, more I Could Have Been a Contender stories, taking my mom to get a tattoo, How Edamame is overrated, my one day as a substitute Sunday School teacher, how I got a book deal, my college years (I did not go to college) stories, living in my car, and how I won blog awards.
I hope I can be funnier, more positive, and a better writer this year.
Some of the writings I listed above are events that have yet to happen. Some are stories from my past. There is an old saying that goes something like "If you travel the road to the past it is often littered with missed opportunities. Be careful you don't trip over them."
What I plan to do this year is explore that road to the past and pick up those pieces of "litter" and save them in the garage, (just like my wife saves pieces of moulding and chair rails and old mirrors or scraps of fabric, "because you just never know when you can use them"). Every now and then I will pull one out polish it and make a post out of it.
Please leave me a comment and let me know if there is anything you want to see here on Poop and Boogies. Or tell me whether you plan to call this year Twenty-ten, or Two Thousand-Ten or Two-Zero-One Zero.
Thursday is de-lurking day (brought to you, for me, by Rudecactus and Greeblemonkey), which means you are supposed to leave a comment. De-lurk, leave a comment.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Allergy
I was sitting on a bench at Dee's Dock in Wildwood NJ, in 1983, watching the water skiers cut across the calm surface of the bay when I first felt the burning and itching sensation around my midsection. I thought that maybe I had been bitten by some green-head flies. I threw the empty BBQ Chips bag and empty Birch Beer can in the trash thinking that maybe they were attracting the flies. A few minutes later I could not stop scratching my lower back and waist. A few minutes after that I ran the one block back to my uncle's shore house to investigate the burning in my pants.
Once in the bathroom I lowered my swimsuit and was horrified at the sight. Red welts the size of baseballs, raised a quarter inch from the surface of my skin, covered my stomach, waist, thighs and, yes, all parts in between. I cried out for my mom. When my mom looked she winced. She then, of course, calls my Aunt Kathleen, her sister, into the bathroom to investigate. Aunt Kathleen was a nurse, she would know what to do. There I was, 13 years old, standing naked in front of my mom and aunt as they poked and prodded and discussed the rash and welts that were covering my privates. Parts of me were so, inflated, so enlarged, so puffy, I thought that they were going to think...well, like I said, I was thirteen. I didn't know what to think. It was so, very embarrassing, my face was as red as the welts. They decided I had a bad case of hives. Hives usually appear at the warmest part of the body which is why they were all over my midsection and groin. That was when I learned I was allergic to certain red food coloring.
When I was 20 I had the same reaction to some type of "pizza" flavored snack. I took some Benadryl to ease the itching of the hives. Thirty minutes after taking the Benadryl I was taken to the ER because my throat started to close up. This is when I found out I was allergic to Benadryl which is the most common drug used to help with allergic reactions.
Over the years I have had episodes of hives and various allergic reactions to various foods, including an allergic reaction to a tattoo (a story for another time). But all of the reactions were most likely caused by the food coloring or dye.
Last Wednesday morning someone at work brought in some chocolate covered pretzels that were leftover from the holidays. I helped myself to a few as a mid-morning treat. A while after eating them I could feel my lower lip start to swell up. I thought that maybe I was getting a pimple or maybe I got bit by a bug or something. Although the lip stayed swollen the irritation went away. Around 11:30 I had two Hershey Kisses as a pre-lunch snack.
When I got home at noon for lunch Lauren looked at me and said "Good god! What happened to your face?"
I told her I was having a reaction of some sort to a bug bite or something and that nothing I did or ate that morning was out of the ordinary for me. Which it wasn't. When I returned to the office my brother, LW, who I work with, started calling me the Elephant Man. The entire left side of my face was swollen. It was at this point that the hives started kicking in. But they didn't start at the usual "warm parts of the body" spots. They went up and down my arms and face. Now I knew I was having an allergic reaction I just did not know what from.
Later that night, after breaking out again after eating some chocolate chip cookies, Lauren convinced me to take some Benadryl. We had the "dye free" kind and she thought it would be okay. It was almost 20 years ago that I had a reaction. She convinced me that my allergies may have changed over that time (you know the whole "you body re-generates new cells every seven years" thing). I was no longer allergic to certain red food coloring. Something else was causing my reaction now. So maybe she was right, maybe I was no longer allergic to Benadryl.
I took half a dose. My hands swelled up like balloons. I made a doctor appointment for the next day.
This is my lip 3x its normal size.
My arm covered in hives.
My hand at normal size for comparison.
My hand before the Benadryl.
My hand after Benadryl.
The doctor gave me some steroids and cleared it all up. Apparently my body has changed over these years. I am no longer allergic to red food coloring. I am still allergic to Benadryl. I am now allergic to chocolate.
Once in the bathroom I lowered my swimsuit and was horrified at the sight. Red welts the size of baseballs, raised a quarter inch from the surface of my skin, covered my stomach, waist, thighs and, yes, all parts in between. I cried out for my mom. When my mom looked she winced. She then, of course, calls my Aunt Kathleen, her sister, into the bathroom to investigate. Aunt Kathleen was a nurse, she would know what to do. There I was, 13 years old, standing naked in front of my mom and aunt as they poked and prodded and discussed the rash and welts that were covering my privates. Parts of me were so, inflated, so enlarged, so puffy, I thought that they were going to think...well, like I said, I was thirteen. I didn't know what to think. It was so, very embarrassing, my face was as red as the welts. They decided I had a bad case of hives. Hives usually appear at the warmest part of the body which is why they were all over my midsection and groin. That was when I learned I was allergic to certain red food coloring.
When I was 20 I had the same reaction to some type of "pizza" flavored snack. I took some Benadryl to ease the itching of the hives. Thirty minutes after taking the Benadryl I was taken to the ER because my throat started to close up. This is when I found out I was allergic to Benadryl which is the most common drug used to help with allergic reactions.
Over the years I have had episodes of hives and various allergic reactions to various foods, including an allergic reaction to a tattoo (a story for another time). But all of the reactions were most likely caused by the food coloring or dye.
Last Wednesday morning someone at work brought in some chocolate covered pretzels that were leftover from the holidays. I helped myself to a few as a mid-morning treat. A while after eating them I could feel my lower lip start to swell up. I thought that maybe I was getting a pimple or maybe I got bit by a bug or something. Although the lip stayed swollen the irritation went away. Around 11:30 I had two Hershey Kisses as a pre-lunch snack.
When I got home at noon for lunch Lauren looked at me and said "Good god! What happened to your face?"
I told her I was having a reaction of some sort to a bug bite or something and that nothing I did or ate that morning was out of the ordinary for me. Which it wasn't. When I returned to the office my brother, LW, who I work with, started calling me the Elephant Man. The entire left side of my face was swollen. It was at this point that the hives started kicking in. But they didn't start at the usual "warm parts of the body" spots. They went up and down my arms and face. Now I knew I was having an allergic reaction I just did not know what from.
Later that night, after breaking out again after eating some chocolate chip cookies, Lauren convinced me to take some Benadryl. We had the "dye free" kind and she thought it would be okay. It was almost 20 years ago that I had a reaction. She convinced me that my allergies may have changed over that time (you know the whole "you body re-generates new cells every seven years" thing). I was no longer allergic to certain red food coloring. Something else was causing my reaction now. So maybe she was right, maybe I was no longer allergic to Benadryl.
I took half a dose. My hands swelled up like balloons. I made a doctor appointment for the next day.
This is my lip 3x its normal size.
My arm covered in hives.
My hand at normal size for comparison.
My hand before the Benadryl.
My hand after Benadryl. The doctor gave me some steroids and cleared it all up. Apparently my body has changed over these years. I am no longer allergic to red food coloring. I am still allergic to Benadryl. I am now allergic to chocolate.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Best Instructions
Lauren picked up a toy cell phone for Jackson's first birthday. We can record our voices and play them back on the phone. Jackson's older brothers also love the Hellophone. They have been doing their best to "share" it with each other.
Which, I guess, is the reason why the manufacturers of this phone printed the best set of instructions. Ever.
Which, I guess, is the reason why the manufacturers of this phone printed the best set of instructions. Ever.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
The Third Wise Men
365 days ago I was woken up by my wife at 5:45 am.
“Bill, I either just peed my pants or my water just broke.”
“What?” I quickly sat up in bed rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“I think my water broke.” Lauren said.
“You think?” I responded searching for my glasses.
“Well it’s not like it went ‘Glug -Glug’or anything.”
We made some calls, arranged to have someone watch Maxfield and Wyatt and we headed to the hospital. We were sitting in the triage room by 8:30 am waiting for someone to determine if Lauren was in Labor. She said she was having minor contractions but nothing that would make her think she was giving birth. The other two births (here and here) she went through were so completely different she was not sure. It looked like this delivery was going to be like the first time she gave birth. They confirmed that Lauren’s water had indeed broken.
While in the triage room Lauren was hooked up to several different monitors, pulse rate, heart rate, fetal heart rate, contraction-contraption and I think a few others. The nurse started to ask Lauren medical questions as I watched each digital display screen trying to determine what each one meant. As the nurse documented the charts I decided to ask Lauren some of my own questions.
“Do you keep any secrets from me?” I asked still studying the heart and pulse rate monitors.
“What?” she asked back in a somewhat annoyed tone.
“Do you have a separate bank account?”
“Bill, what are you talking about?”
“I just figured that since you were hooked up to these monitors that I would be able to tell if you are lying to me. It is kind of like a lie detector.”
The nurse gave me a weird look. Lauren said something about me being a dork and asked if I could tell whether she was telling the truth about that statement.
They moved us into a birthing suite by 9:30 and we waited for the doctors to visit. I made sure Lauren was comfortable and we waited and waited but nothing was happening. Lauren’s OB-Gyn Kenobi, decided to give her Pitosin, a labor inducer, at around 12:30 to move things along.
During the wait we discussed the baby's name. We had not decided on a middle name and I suggested that since it was January 6th, Little Christmas, we should name him Balthasar or Melchior after the Three Wise Men. Lauren quickly shot those names down.
We waited and waited. At one point in the middle of the afternoon we could hear the woman in the room next to us deliver her kid. I am not kidding when I say this; I have never heard a woman scream and holler and carry on as much as that woman did. It was like a scene from a movie. A scary movie. Lauren and I could not help but chuckle, cringe and listen in amazement, from the other side of the wall.
I think the woman’s screaming made Lauren’s body kick into gear. Her contractions grew more intense and closer together. Sometime around 7:37PM the OB-Gyn Kenobi told Lauren to start pushing. He then asked me if I wanted to watch the miracle of birth. I declined. He gave me a look. I told him I did not need to know how a car worked just as long as it did, that is what a mechanic is for. I told him he was the mechanic.
Three and half minutes later, at 7:41 PM, Jackson was born. My third boy, I now had three wise men.
Happy 1st Birthday Jackson.
“Bill, I either just peed my pants or my water just broke.”
“What?” I quickly sat up in bed rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“I think my water broke.” Lauren said.
“You think?” I responded searching for my glasses.
“Well it’s not like it went ‘Glug -Glug’or anything.”
We made some calls, arranged to have someone watch Maxfield and Wyatt and we headed to the hospital. We were sitting in the triage room by 8:30 am waiting for someone to determine if Lauren was in Labor. She said she was having minor contractions but nothing that would make her think she was giving birth. The other two births (here and here) she went through were so completely different she was not sure. It looked like this delivery was going to be like the first time she gave birth. They confirmed that Lauren’s water had indeed broken.
While in the triage room Lauren was hooked up to several different monitors, pulse rate, heart rate, fetal heart rate, contraction-contraption and I think a few others. The nurse started to ask Lauren medical questions as I watched each digital display screen trying to determine what each one meant. As the nurse documented the charts I decided to ask Lauren some of my own questions.
“Do you keep any secrets from me?” I asked still studying the heart and pulse rate monitors.
“What?” she asked back in a somewhat annoyed tone.
“Do you have a separate bank account?”
“Bill, what are you talking about?”
“I just figured that since you were hooked up to these monitors that I would be able to tell if you are lying to me. It is kind of like a lie detector.”
The nurse gave me a weird look. Lauren said something about me being a dork and asked if I could tell whether she was telling the truth about that statement.
They moved us into a birthing suite by 9:30 and we waited for the doctors to visit. I made sure Lauren was comfortable and we waited and waited but nothing was happening. Lauren’s OB-Gyn Kenobi, decided to give her Pitosin, a labor inducer, at around 12:30 to move things along.
During the wait we discussed the baby's name. We had not decided on a middle name and I suggested that since it was January 6th, Little Christmas, we should name him Balthasar or Melchior after the Three Wise Men. Lauren quickly shot those names down.
We waited and waited. At one point in the middle of the afternoon we could hear the woman in the room next to us deliver her kid. I am not kidding when I say this; I have never heard a woman scream and holler and carry on as much as that woman did. It was like a scene from a movie. A scary movie. Lauren and I could not help but chuckle, cringe and listen in amazement, from the other side of the wall.
I think the woman’s screaming made Lauren’s body kick into gear. Her contractions grew more intense and closer together. Sometime around 7:37PM the OB-Gyn Kenobi told Lauren to start pushing. He then asked me if I wanted to watch the miracle of birth. I declined. He gave me a look. I told him I did not need to know how a car worked just as long as it did, that is what a mechanic is for. I told him he was the mechanic.
Three and half minutes later, at 7:41 PM, Jackson was born. My third boy, I now had three wise men.
Happy 1st Birthday Jackson.
We celebrated on Sunday. Jackson liked the cake but not the mess.
Picture stolen from my wife's Facebook page.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Literal Sign
My sister-in-law Shannon put together a Snap Fish photo album of my father shortly after he passed away. It took me a while to actually order a copy. When I did finally get a copy I quickly flipped through the pages, smiling at the images of my dad during various phases of his life. There were pictures of him with every person in our family including every one of his grandchildren at the time of his death. I then stashed the book under the coffee table somewhere and forgot about it.
When the the first anniversary of my dad's death came around last year I was a little preoccupied with the pending arrival of our newest baby. Part of me was hoping that the new baby would be born on the anniversary of Dad's passing, to kind of make January 2nd a happy day (I also thought the same thing a few weeks earlier on the anniversary of Lauren's father's death but she would have had to go into labor early for that). I figured if my kid was born on the 1st year anniversary of his grandfather's death it would be a sign, of some kind, that everything is okay. When 1/2/09 came and went with no baby, I pulled out one of my dad's funeral mass cards, read the prayer on the back and chalked it up to "not meant to be" type of thing.
Four days later Lauren gave birth to our new baby boy. While in the hospital I was looking for signs. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was because I remember my dad sitting in the waiting room when Maxfield was born in the same hospital 5 years earlier. Maybe it is because I remember sitting in a waiting room in another wing of the same hospital as my dad slowly drifted away from life. I think that births and deaths make people look for signs. I looked at every name tag of every person that entered the birthing suite looking for a sign from dad. I noted every room number and significant digit. A nurse was named Violet, wait a minute, my dad used to sell products to nurse-eries that grew Violets. The serial number on this contraction/heart rate monitor thing-a-ma-bob is 4E077W5237, wait a minute 4077 is the army hospital in the show M*A*S*H and my dad loved that show, and my dad knew someone named Bob.
I know, stretches.
Sometimes those signs are figments of an overactive imagination. Sometimes those signs are just coincidence. And sometimes there are just no signs.
Lauren and I were very protective of the baby's name. Everyone knew it would most likely be inspired by an artist but no one knew the inspiration would be Jackson Pollock. We brought Jackson home a couple of days later and went about our busy lives of raising, now, three kids. At one point during those first couple of weeks of having a newborn in the house, and maybe due to a lack of sleep or some strange melancholy, I said something to Lauren about Jackson never meeting either of his grandfathers. We discussed it briefly, talking about looking for signs and chalked it up to "not meant to be" and moved on.
A day or two after that conversation I was dusting the living room (I am sexy that way) and I pulled out a bunch of books and magazines from under the coffee table. I saw the photo album of my dad and still feeling a bit melancholy decided to look through it. I smiled at the images of my dad. I closed the album on my lap and noticed there was a collage of pictures on the back cover. I never saw them before. My eyes immediately zeroed in on this photo of my dad in the army.
I took it as a sign. A literal sign.
When the the first anniversary of my dad's death came around last year I was a little preoccupied with the pending arrival of our newest baby. Part of me was hoping that the new baby would be born on the anniversary of Dad's passing, to kind of make January 2nd a happy day (I also thought the same thing a few weeks earlier on the anniversary of Lauren's father's death but she would have had to go into labor early for that). I figured if my kid was born on the 1st year anniversary of his grandfather's death it would be a sign, of some kind, that everything is okay. When 1/2/09 came and went with no baby, I pulled out one of my dad's funeral mass cards, read the prayer on the back and chalked it up to "not meant to be" type of thing.
Four days later Lauren gave birth to our new baby boy. While in the hospital I was looking for signs. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was because I remember my dad sitting in the waiting room when Maxfield was born in the same hospital 5 years earlier. Maybe it is because I remember sitting in a waiting room in another wing of the same hospital as my dad slowly drifted away from life. I think that births and deaths make people look for signs. I looked at every name tag of every person that entered the birthing suite looking for a sign from dad. I noted every room number and significant digit. A nurse was named Violet, wait a minute, my dad used to sell products to nurse-eries that grew Violets. The serial number on this contraction/heart rate monitor thing-a-ma-bob is 4E077W5237, wait a minute 4077 is the army hospital in the show M*A*S*H and my dad loved that show, and my dad knew someone named Bob.
I know, stretches.
Sometimes those signs are figments of an overactive imagination. Sometimes those signs are just coincidence. And sometimes there are just no signs.
Lauren and I were very protective of the baby's name. Everyone knew it would most likely be inspired by an artist but no one knew the inspiration would be Jackson Pollock. We brought Jackson home a couple of days later and went about our busy lives of raising, now, three kids. At one point during those first couple of weeks of having a newborn in the house, and maybe due to a lack of sleep or some strange melancholy, I said something to Lauren about Jackson never meeting either of his grandfathers. We discussed it briefly, talking about looking for signs and chalked it up to "not meant to be" and moved on.
A day or two after that conversation I was dusting the living room (I am sexy that way) and I pulled out a bunch of books and magazines from under the coffee table. I saw the photo album of my dad and still feeling a bit melancholy decided to look through it. I smiled at the images of my dad. I closed the album on my lap and noticed there was a collage of pictures on the back cover. I never saw them before. My eyes immediately zeroed in on this photo of my dad in the army.
I took it as a sign. A literal sign.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Priceless
My oldest son Maxfield's Godfather discovered that there was a Maxfield Parrish exhibit at the Delaware Art Museum. He suggested that we go check it out before the exhibit closed down. I thought it was an awesome idea for Maxfield to see the art work of the man that inspired us naming him Maxfield.
I thought it was an awesome idea until I discovered that there were priceless (okay, maybe not priceless but I am sure damn expensive) original paintings at five-year-old-height. I think I must have said, to both Max and Wyatt, at least a thousand times, "Don't touch that." My nerves started fraying. 
Maxfield Parrish's Circe's Palace now smells of a hint of apple juice and peanut butter and fluff sandwiches. See the blue in that painting? Sometimes it is referred to as Parrish Blue, which is where Wyatt gets his middle name. There was one painting in the museum by N.C. Wyeth (Wyatt's naming inspiration). I did not get a picture of Wyatt next to it, since it was at three-year-old-height and my nerves would not have been able to handle that.
The Delaware Art Museum hosts the permanent exhibit of Howard Pyle, one of Lauren's favorite illustrators, which was a possible choice of name for Jackson. We did not want to go with Howard and if we went with Pyle, well, think of the abuse.
I don't know if the Delaware Art Museum houses any modern art but we were able to a find a book in the educational room about Jackson Pollack. And it was perfect at One-year-old height to snap a picture. As you can see Jackson was distracted by a snack and did not feel the need to smear anything on the book.
We did have a great time and it was also fun that Mr. Miyagi (Max's Godfather) and his family came with us.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Chest Thumping
I told almost everybody that I knew that I was going to make some built-in bookshelves in our living room. I told my brother Jim I was going to build book shelves to rival the ones he did in his house. I told my brother Dan I was going to craft an impressive set of shelves that would make him and his expert do-it-yourself-Mr.-fix-it attitude proud. I told my neighbor, Mr. Jones, that I was going to build a book case and that I may need to borrow his manly saw that he uses on all of his awesome projects.
I told everyone I was going to build a built-in book shelf unit. I may have even thumped my chest a few times.
I told Lauren I would have the dining room (completed around 12/16)and the living room finished with their re-dos by Christmas. The Saturday before, 6 days prior to the deadline, I was ready to start the final phase of the living room. I was going to build book shelves (thump thump thump). Lauren was going to keep the kids occupied, I was going to spend the whole weekend sawing, cutting, hammering, painting and screw gunning (thump thump).
Earlier in the week Lauren and I spent an hour hand selecting the planks of finished pine, furring strips and trim. We purchased just enough to complete the design Lauren had wanted. My first order of business was to go to Mr. Jones' and use his saw. He helped me cut the 8 foot pieces of pine to the desired height I would need for the wall sides. We talked about the project and my ideas for framing the 12 inch wide shelves. He nodded in approval and told me to come back if I needed any more precision cuts. I thanked Mr. Jones and hoisted the cut planks on my shoulder and walked back to my house (thump thump).
At home I used my table top mitre saw to cut the furring strips, used for support, down to the size of the shelves. I cut two 6 foot furring strip boards into eight inch pieces (thump thump). As I started to assemble the frame of the shelves Lauren popped her head into living room.
"What are you doing?' she asked.
"Framing the shelves."
"Why are the furring strips so small?"
"I decided to cut them like this so it will support the shelf."
"Yes. But the shelf is 12 inches wide." She pointed out.
"Yeah. So?"
"You cut the strips to 8 inches. The strip is supposed to support the entire width of the shelf. Besides we bought just enough wood to do the project the way we discussed."
"Yes, but by cutting it shorter I saved on the wood." I said with confidence, throwing some basic but semi-fake math in her face.
"Yes, but by cutting it shorter we now will have a bunch of smaller pieces for the back support, instead of one piece that goes all the way across." She said with confidence throwing real math and geometry back in my face.
"So?" Was the only response I could muster.
"So?" Lauren asked. "It will look stupid." She answered herself.
"It won't look stupid. Who is going to notice?"
"I will."
I gave her a dirty look.
Lauren changed to a softer tone. "Listen Bill, maybe I should take over this project."
"What?"
"I just know that I could do a better job." Lauren said without any inclination she was going to thump her chest.
"What?" I repeated. I was offended.
"I am going to finish this job." She said.
"Look I made a mistake. It is no big deal. I can do this."
"No. I think it would be better if I did it."
I was hurt. "Fine. They didn't cover this when I went to carpenter college. Oh that's right, I didn't go to fucking carpenter college. "
"Neither did I Bill." Lauren snapped back. "But I know how to measure and cut."
She had a point.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
I packed up the kids and spent the rest of the day, the weekend really, taking care of them. There would be no more macho chest thumping that weekend.
Before.
During.
During.
I told everyone I was going to build a built-in book shelf unit. I may have even thumped my chest a few times.
I told Lauren I would have the dining room (completed around 12/16)and the living room finished with their re-dos by Christmas. The Saturday before, 6 days prior to the deadline, I was ready to start the final phase of the living room. I was going to build book shelves (thump thump thump). Lauren was going to keep the kids occupied, I was going to spend the whole weekend sawing, cutting, hammering, painting and screw gunning (thump thump).
Earlier in the week Lauren and I spent an hour hand selecting the planks of finished pine, furring strips and trim. We purchased just enough to complete the design Lauren had wanted. My first order of business was to go to Mr. Jones' and use his saw. He helped me cut the 8 foot pieces of pine to the desired height I would need for the wall sides. We talked about the project and my ideas for framing the 12 inch wide shelves. He nodded in approval and told me to come back if I needed any more precision cuts. I thanked Mr. Jones and hoisted the cut planks on my shoulder and walked back to my house (thump thump).
At home I used my table top mitre saw to cut the furring strips, used for support, down to the size of the shelves. I cut two 6 foot furring strip boards into eight inch pieces (thump thump). As I started to assemble the frame of the shelves Lauren popped her head into living room.
"What are you doing?' she asked.
"Framing the shelves."
"Why are the furring strips so small?"
"I decided to cut them like this so it will support the shelf."
"Yes. But the shelf is 12 inches wide." She pointed out.
"Yeah. So?"
"You cut the strips to 8 inches. The strip is supposed to support the entire width of the shelf. Besides we bought just enough wood to do the project the way we discussed."
"Yes, but by cutting it shorter I saved on the wood." I said with confidence, throwing some basic but semi-fake math in her face.
"Yes, but by cutting it shorter we now will have a bunch of smaller pieces for the back support, instead of one piece that goes all the way across." She said with confidence throwing real math and geometry back in my face.
"So?" Was the only response I could muster.
"So?" Lauren asked. "It will look stupid." She answered herself.
"It won't look stupid. Who is going to notice?"
"I will."
I gave her a dirty look.
Lauren changed to a softer tone. "Listen Bill, maybe I should take over this project."
"What?"
"I just know that I could do a better job." Lauren said without any inclination she was going to thump her chest.
"What?" I repeated. I was offended.
"I am going to finish this job." She said.
"Look I made a mistake. It is no big deal. I can do this."
"No. I think it would be better if I did it."
I was hurt. "Fine. They didn't cover this when I went to carpenter college. Oh that's right, I didn't go to fucking carpenter college. "
"Neither did I Bill." Lauren snapped back. "But I know how to measure and cut."
She had a point.
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Fine."
I packed up the kids and spent the rest of the day, the weekend really, taking care of them. There would be no more macho chest thumping that weekend.
Before.
During.
During.
After.
It took me a couple of days to nurse my bruised ego. Now I have to tell everyone that, not I, but my wife, built the book shelves.
I love my wife. She can build killer book shelves. I am proud of her (thump thump).
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Past
This is a picture from my first Christmas Eve/Christmas. This was in 1970.
Apparently my dad read to all the kids before they went to bed. Six kids, plus my parents, equals eight people in my parent's house the night before Christmas. (My brother the Lawnwhisperer in yellow far left and my brother Anonymous in green far right. )
This is picture from Christmas Eve 1971. My younger brother Pat (not seen) was two months old when this picture was taken; total number of people in the house was seven. (Brother Anonymous is the middle boy, LW is the one in blue and I am the one without pants.Today we celebrated Christmas Eve in that very same house where these pictures were taken. There was a total of 43 people celebrating Christmas Eve in that house. 43 people comprised of children, spouses, grandchildren (and a fiance of one grandchild) and my mom.
No dad telling stories (I miss him) but it was fun. Probably not as fun as the year I did not wear pants but it was still fun.
I don't think I am going to wear pants next year.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Good Tidings
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.
From Jackson...
....Maxfield and Wyatt Blue...,
... the whole happy Poop and Boogies family. You better have a good holiday, because if we get home and I find out you did not have a good time you are going into time out.
From Jackson...
....Maxfield and Wyatt Blue...,
... the whole happy Poop and Boogies family. You better have a good holiday, because if we get home and I find out you did not have a good time you are going into time out. Monday, December 21, 2009
Almost Done
I wrote here about re-doing our dining room before Christmas. We are 90 % there.
Before.
Same view, 90% after. That light fixture (decorated for Christmas) is the one that made me short circuit our computer monitor.
Before.
Before.
Same view, 90% after. That light fixture (decorated for Christmas) is the one that made me short circuit our computer monitor.
Before.
90 % after. Lauren did not like that I was putting this ugly chair in my picture. This chair has since been left out on the curb.
Lauren is in the middle of putting new seat covers on all the dining room chairs. I need to do some touch up painting and clean up. I have three days. No hurry.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Staining: A Tutorial
When trying to stain a desktop/countertop you need to make sure you have the proper materials; a brush, a bunch of rags, rubber gloves (Do you own rubber gloves? I lease with an an option to buy.) a can of stain with a cool sounding name like Brazillian Rosewood with a pretty picture on the front that matches what you want your desk to look like, and paint thinner or mineral spirits; spirit being the key word here.
Step 1:Wait for the coldest night of the year to work in your garage. Step 2: Cover the wood (heh heh) with liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait 15 minutes. Step 4:Wipe off excess stain. Repeat steps 2 thru 4 for a darker look.
Clean up and go to bed.
The next morning you need to show your wife the stained boards. She will most likley say that the cool sounding color that you picked out does not look like it does on the can.
Step 5: go to Lowes and pick up a darker stain.
Using Darker stain repeat Steps 1 thru 4. But this time make sure you pick up some paint thinner for yourself. This will help battle the chill in the garage. I prefer my paint thinner of the Canadian blended or rye variety. On the rocks.
Note in the above picture the board has been already stained with a cool sounding name type of stain that was not dark enough.
Step 1: Wait for coldest night to work in garage. Step 2: Cover the board in liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait fifteen to twenty minutes. Step 3(A): this is where having paint thinner for yourself comes in handy. Drink liberal amounts.
Step 4: Wipe off excess stain, only to be surprised that the board does not look that much darker than when you started. Step 4(A) This is another moment where the paint thinner comes in handy. Empty contents of glass. This is the perfect time to replenish the paint thinner and add more ice.
Repeating steps 2 thru 4 to try and get darker look. Making sure to pay particular attention to Step 3(A) and Step 4 (A). Step 1 does not need repeating because if the paint thinner has been used correctly, the temperature of the garage does not matter at this time.
After Step 4 you should notice that again the wood looks almost exactly the same as when you started. Repeat Step 4(A). Now repeat steps 2 thru 4 two more times. After the fourth try and fourth glass of thinner, look at the board and say "Fuck it, it will do."
Step 1:Wait for the coldest night of the year to work in your garage. Step 2: Cover the wood (heh heh) with liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait 15 minutes. Step 4:Wipe off excess stain. Repeat steps 2 thru 4 for a darker look.
Clean up and go to bed.
The next morning you need to show your wife the stained boards. She will most likley say that the cool sounding color that you picked out does not look like it does on the can.
Step 5: go to Lowes and pick up a darker stain.
Using Darker stain repeat Steps 1 thru 4. But this time make sure you pick up some paint thinner for yourself. This will help battle the chill in the garage. I prefer my paint thinner of the Canadian blended or rye variety. On the rocks.
Note in the above picture the board has been already stained with a cool sounding name type of stain that was not dark enough.
Step 1: Wait for coldest night to work in garage. Step 2: Cover the board in liberal amounts of stain. Step 3: Wait fifteen to twenty minutes. Step 3(A): this is where having paint thinner for yourself comes in handy. Drink liberal amounts.
Step 4: Wipe off excess stain, only to be surprised that the board does not look that much darker than when you started. Step 4(A) This is another moment where the paint thinner comes in handy. Empty contents of glass. This is the perfect time to replenish the paint thinner and add more ice.
Repeating steps 2 thru 4 to try and get darker look. Making sure to pay particular attention to Step 3(A) and Step 4 (A). Step 1 does not need repeating because if the paint thinner has been used correctly, the temperature of the garage does not matter at this time. After Step 4 you should notice that again the wood looks almost exactly the same as when you started. Repeat Step 4(A). Now repeat steps 2 thru 4 two more times. After the fourth try and fourth glass of thinner, look at the board and say "Fuck it, it will do."
Friday, December 18, 2009
PJs
How do you pronounce the word "pajama"?
1.Like pa-jom-a? The -jam- rhymes with bomb?
Or
2. Pa-jam-a, where the -jam- rhymes with slam?
1.Like pa-jom-a? The -jam- rhymes with bomb?
Or
2. Pa-jam-a, where the -jam- rhymes with slam?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Such a Card
Even if Lauren lets me win an argument it still counts as a victory. Right?A few years ago I learned that my brother Anonymous loves getting Christmas cards. He critiques each card on his own system of merits, like message, layout, cuteness factor, cleverness, and other random criteria. He rates the cards every year. He shares his favorites with his extended family.
This year I wanted to make his list of the top cards. We took Maxfield, Wyatt and Jackson to the portrait studio place to have their annual photos done, they offered us six free Christmas cards. I asked if we could use the six free cards as one that we would send to my brother Anonymous and I told her my idea for the card. She told me I was a dork and that she did not want to waste the free cards on (she may have said "lame") my idea that was not funny. I insisted that Anonymous would "get" the card and that I may actually get a high rating this year.
After arguing for 10 minutes in front of the photographer Lauren finally let me have my way. Due to an error I ended up getting 12 free cards. I sent the above card to each of my siblings. None of them "got" it. Lauren was right, but it was still a victory for me. Right?
Monday, December 14, 2009
My Mother In Law's Favorite Blog
My mother-in-law reads two blogs; Poop and Boogies and The Pioneer Woman. Guess which one is her favorite. No seriously guess. Go ahead guess.
When I found out that my mother in law's favorite blogger was going to be signing her new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks, in the Philadelphia area, I thought it would be a great idea to take my mother-in-law to meet her. I, too, am a fan of Ree Drummond and her blog and I was excited by the opportunity to meet her. I was also excited that there would be a chance that other local Philly bloggers would be there and I may also get a chance to meet them.
Sunday, the day of the book signing, was busy day in our house. Not only are we still working on begatting our living room and dining room, but I also bought our Christmas tree that morning and promised the kids that they could decorate it and decorate the house while I was gone with Mom Mom. I left a lot on Lauren's plate for the day when I left at noon to pick up my MIL.
We arrived at the book store around 1:15 which was an hour and fifteen minutes early. The number we received for our place in line was # 123. Holy cow does the Pioneer Woman have a lot of fans. I purchased our copies of the book and we found some seats where the signing would be held (this is the same place I met Brad Meltzer). I kept rubber necking the room trying to see if I recognized any other bloggers. Which I didn't.
A few minutes later Sue and Charlotte, other bloggers that I know, which Lauren refers to as my "pretend friends" (which I think means that she means that Sue and Charlotte pretend to be my friend) arrived. I have "known" Sue and Charlotte for 4 years now and I have only met them one other time. I was very happy to see them. I gave them my official Poop and Boogies business cards, I use when I meet other bloggers. We chatted and laughed while waiting for Ree Drummond to make her appearance. Charlotte and Sue are two of the nicest people. Both genuine and sincere and funny as hell. Hanging out with them felt like I was hanging out with friends I have known for 20 years.
At one point during our conversation I spotted Bossy, from Iambossy. I am a fan of her blog as well. I yelled out to her. She looked my way and continued walking. I thought maybe that she was "big timing" me, but after thinking about it, maybe I scared her. She does not know me or my blog really. I mean if I saw me calling my name from across a room I might be scared as well. A few minutes later she did come over to me, I introduced myself, she was nice.
The Pioneer Woman showed up on time and took questions from the audience. She was very funny and she seems very genuine. I like genuine. I like funny. My mother in law seemed to enjoy her as well. The book store staff started lining up people in groups of twenty for the signing. While we waited I hung out with Charlotte, Sue, my MIL, and Karen who was the woman who sat next to my MIL. (Hi Karen)
We waited. We waited some more. I kept checking the clock on my cell. It was getting later and later. I kept thinking of Lauren at home with the boys decorating the tree without me. I kept thinking of how the boys were probably beating each other up over who got to hang what ornament. I kept picturing Jackson eating pine needles and ornament hooks. I imagined the cat knocking over the tree. I pictured Lauren at her wit's end. I felt bad. Finally at 5PM, I asked my MIL how she felt about leaving without meeting PW. She was fine with it. I on the other hand was disappointed. I wanted the opportunity to tell PW how much I appreciated her work. I wanted to tell her I have been following her from the early days back in 'aught six. I wanted to tell her I was excited for her and her success. I also wanted to hand her one of my Poop and Boogies business cards. But I knew I really should get home. We decided to leave.
I gave our number in line, #123, to Sue and Charlotte (their number was like #175 or something) and told them I was leaving. It then dawned on me that maybe they could get my book signed, which they agreed to do. They also volunteered to have my MIL's book signed. Charlotte also said she would give the Pioneer Woman my business card, which made me happy. They even took a picture. Very cool.
When I got home around 6PM, I told Lauren what happened. She felt bad and asked if I felt like I wasted my time for the past 6 hours. Here I drove 45 minutes in each direction, waited around for a few hours for a chance to meet someone that truly respect and admire, only to leave without meeting her and without a book. My answer was simple.
"No. I got to hang out with Sue, Charlotte and your mom. It was fun. I hope Charlotte and Sue don't steal the books. Then I won't have a Christmas gift for your mom."
By the way, Pioneer Woman Cooks is # 2 on the NY Times Best Seller List. My guess is, next week , with the P&B bump, she will be #1.
When I found out that my mother in law's favorite blogger was going to be signing her new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks, in the Philadelphia area, I thought it would be a great idea to take my mother-in-law to meet her. I, too, am a fan of Ree Drummond and her blog and I was excited by the opportunity to meet her. I was also excited that there would be a chance that other local Philly bloggers would be there and I may also get a chance to meet them.
Sunday, the day of the book signing, was busy day in our house. Not only are we still working on begatting our living room and dining room, but I also bought our Christmas tree that morning and promised the kids that they could decorate it and decorate the house while I was gone with Mom Mom. I left a lot on Lauren's plate for the day when I left at noon to pick up my MIL.
We arrived at the book store around 1:15 which was an hour and fifteen minutes early. The number we received for our place in line was # 123. Holy cow does the Pioneer Woman have a lot of fans. I purchased our copies of the book and we found some seats where the signing would be held (this is the same place I met Brad Meltzer). I kept rubber necking the room trying to see if I recognized any other bloggers. Which I didn't.
A few minutes later Sue and Charlotte, other bloggers that I know, which Lauren refers to as my "pretend friends" (which I think means that she means that Sue and Charlotte pretend to be my friend) arrived. I have "known" Sue and Charlotte for 4 years now and I have only met them one other time. I was very happy to see them. I gave them my official Poop and Boogies business cards, I use when I meet other bloggers. We chatted and laughed while waiting for Ree Drummond to make her appearance. Charlotte and Sue are two of the nicest people. Both genuine and sincere and funny as hell. Hanging out with them felt like I was hanging out with friends I have known for 20 years.
At one point during our conversation I spotted Bossy, from Iambossy. I am a fan of her blog as well. I yelled out to her. She looked my way and continued walking. I thought maybe that she was "big timing" me, but after thinking about it, maybe I scared her. She does not know me or my blog really. I mean if I saw me calling my name from across a room I might be scared as well. A few minutes later she did come over to me, I introduced myself, she was nice.
The Pioneer Woman showed up on time and took questions from the audience. She was very funny and she seems very genuine. I like genuine. I like funny. My mother in law seemed to enjoy her as well. The book store staff started lining up people in groups of twenty for the signing. While we waited I hung out with Charlotte, Sue, my MIL, and Karen who was the woman who sat next to my MIL. (Hi Karen)
We waited. We waited some more. I kept checking the clock on my cell. It was getting later and later. I kept thinking of Lauren at home with the boys decorating the tree without me. I kept thinking of how the boys were probably beating each other up over who got to hang what ornament. I kept picturing Jackson eating pine needles and ornament hooks. I imagined the cat knocking over the tree. I pictured Lauren at her wit's end. I felt bad. Finally at 5PM, I asked my MIL how she felt about leaving without meeting PW. She was fine with it. I on the other hand was disappointed. I wanted the opportunity to tell PW how much I appreciated her work. I wanted to tell her I have been following her from the early days back in 'aught six. I wanted to tell her I was excited for her and her success. I also wanted to hand her one of my Poop and Boogies business cards. But I knew I really should get home. We decided to leave.
I gave our number in line, #123, to Sue and Charlotte (their number was like #175 or something) and told them I was leaving. It then dawned on me that maybe they could get my book signed, which they agreed to do. They also volunteered to have my MIL's book signed. Charlotte also said she would give the Pioneer Woman my business card, which made me happy. They even took a picture. Very cool.
When I got home around 6PM, I told Lauren what happened. She felt bad and asked if I felt like I wasted my time for the past 6 hours. Here I drove 45 minutes in each direction, waited around for a few hours for a chance to meet someone that truly respect and admire, only to leave without meeting her and without a book. My answer was simple.
"No. I got to hang out with Sue, Charlotte and your mom. It was fun. I hope Charlotte and Sue don't steal the books. Then I won't have a Christmas gift for your mom."
By the way, Pioneer Woman Cooks is # 2 on the NY Times Best Seller List. My guess is, next week , with the P&B bump, she will be #1.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Momma's got a new pair
Birkenstock contacted me about 5 weeks ago asking me if I would be interested in reviewing one of their shoes. Read the rest of this story here.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Snow Alien
My two favorite comic strips of all time are Bill Watterson's Calvin and Hobbes and Bill Amend's Foxtrot (notice both creators are named Bill).
In each of the strips, at one point or another the character Calvin, or in Foxtrot, Jason have built interesting snow "men" ( another one here).
Maxfield and Wyatt have never seen these comic strips, and with no prompting from me they were both determined to build a Snow Alien with this season's first snow fall.
I take great delight in their creativity.
In each of the strips, at one point or another the character Calvin, or in Foxtrot, Jason have built interesting snow "men" ( another one here).
Maxfield and Wyatt have never seen these comic strips, and with no prompting from me they were both determined to build a Snow Alien with this season's first snow fall.
I take great delight in their creativity.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Greatest Gift Rerun
Every holiday season I am always amazed at how my parents could pull off Christmas. There were 9 kids. That’s a lot of presents for Santa to deliver.
Christmas morning was always a whirlwind in our house. The night before, my parents would arrange the gifts in piles under the tree with each of our names on our designated pile (We still, to this day, joke about who had the biggest piles of gifts, FYI- Jimmy). We would all come down the stairs at the same time, sit in front of our pile and my parents while sipping their coffee and tea watched all of us open our gifts at the same time. There were 11 of us in a small family room tripping over each other to see what Santa brought for us.
I always tried to keep my wish list reasonable after I found out that my parents were acting as Santa’s agents. I knew they had a lot of mouths to feed and they always did their best to provide us with nice Christmas gifts. But one year, the only thing I wanted cost $60.00. I was willing to fore go all other gifts if I could just have this one thing.
You see, in 1982 I was 12 and I thought I was a budding comic book artist. The only piece of equipment I would need, to be the next Jack Kirby, was a drawing table. I knew that sixty bucks was lot of money at that time. I did not have high hopes of getting the table because I also knew that I needed socks, gloves, a hat and probably a new pair of Tough Skins.
When I came down to the tree that Christmas Morning, I noticed that there were a few gift boxes with my name on them. I was a little saddened that there was no table waiting under the tree but I knew that it was a lot of money and understood that things were tight. I opened the few gifts (gloves and socks) that I received and I sat and watched everyone else open their much bigger piles. I guess I would have to wait to create the next Spiderman.
As I sat and listened to my brothers “Ooohing and Ahhing” over their gifts I heard my mother, not raising her voice or anything but just a normal tone, say “Bill.”
I turned to look at her (and I know this sounds totally cheesy, but I will never forget the smile on her face) she smiled and nodded her head towards the back wall. I followed her eyes. There it was, a giant box, leaning against the back door. I jumped up and ran over. I tried picking the box up but it was too heavy. I spun it around so I could look at the picture on the front. A drawing table.
I was ecstatic. I turned around and looked at my mom. She had a devilish grin on her face. I guess the table was not with my pile of gifts because it was so big. I also think that my mom wanted to see my reaction to actually getting the gift. With so many kids opening gifts at the same time I am sure it was difficult to see everyone. Or maybe she was just letting me sweat it out.
I never did become a great comic book artist. The only drawing I do now is MooneyAngelo stuff. I kept that table until I was 27. It is still one of my favorite gifts. Ever.
This was originally posted on 12-5-05. (thanks Sci Fi Dad for seeing the date error.)
Christmas morning was always a whirlwind in our house. The night before, my parents would arrange the gifts in piles under the tree with each of our names on our designated pile (We still, to this day, joke about who had the biggest piles of gifts, FYI- Jimmy). We would all come down the stairs at the same time, sit in front of our pile and my parents while sipping their coffee and tea watched all of us open our gifts at the same time. There were 11 of us in a small family room tripping over each other to see what Santa brought for us.
I always tried to keep my wish list reasonable after I found out that my parents were acting as Santa’s agents. I knew they had a lot of mouths to feed and they always did their best to provide us with nice Christmas gifts. But one year, the only thing I wanted cost $60.00. I was willing to fore go all other gifts if I could just have this one thing.
You see, in 1982 I was 12 and I thought I was a budding comic book artist. The only piece of equipment I would need, to be the next Jack Kirby, was a drawing table. I knew that sixty bucks was lot of money at that time. I did not have high hopes of getting the table because I also knew that I needed socks, gloves, a hat and probably a new pair of Tough Skins.
When I came down to the tree that Christmas Morning, I noticed that there were a few gift boxes with my name on them. I was a little saddened that there was no table waiting under the tree but I knew that it was a lot of money and understood that things were tight. I opened the few gifts (gloves and socks) that I received and I sat and watched everyone else open their much bigger piles. I guess I would have to wait to create the next Spiderman.
As I sat and listened to my brothers “Ooohing and Ahhing” over their gifts I heard my mother, not raising her voice or anything but just a normal tone, say “Bill.”
I turned to look at her (and I know this sounds totally cheesy, but I will never forget the smile on her face) she smiled and nodded her head towards the back wall. I followed her eyes. There it was, a giant box, leaning against the back door. I jumped up and ran over. I tried picking the box up but it was too heavy. I spun it around so I could look at the picture on the front. A drawing table.
I was ecstatic. I turned around and looked at my mom. She had a devilish grin on her face. I guess the table was not with my pile of gifts because it was so big. I also think that my mom wanted to see my reaction to actually getting the gift. With so many kids opening gifts at the same time I am sure it was difficult to see everyone. Or maybe she was just letting me sweat it out.
I never did become a great comic book artist. The only drawing I do now is MooneyAngelo stuff. I kept that table until I was 27. It is still one of my favorite gifts. Ever.
This was originally posted on 12-5-05. (thanks Sci Fi Dad for seeing the date error.)
Monday, December 07, 2009
Hip
Every time I used to go food shopping and I have to pick up powdered baby formula I would get annoyed.
The supermarket, where I shop, keeps the powdered baby formula locked up behind the customer service desk. Not only do I have to wait for someone at the customer service desk to open the display case, they also have to hand deliver the canister of formula to the register where I plan to check out. It is top notch security. So I have to do all of my shopping, first, before I can request the formula. There have been many times I have left the store without Jackson's formula because I forgot to go to the customer service desk.
One night, last week, a teen aged boy was working the register and another teenage boy was bagging when I was scanning out. I told the kid at the register I needed formula but there was no one at the customer service desk. He paged the manager and continued to scan my other items. I asked the boy why they locked up the formula. He did not know and deferred to the bagger. The bagger said that formula is stolen a lot and so they lock it up.
"People steal formula?" I asked.
"Yeah. That and pregnancy tests." said the bagger. "We don't sell the pregnancy tests here at all because they get stolen so much."
A lady got in line behind me and started unpacking her shopping cart.
"I just don't get it." I said still waiting for the manager. "Why would people steal formula? And of all the stuff that could be locked up behind the counter, formula is the only one. I mean you guys sell NyQuil and that is not locked up. That is a drug. I could see teenagers stealing that. No offense. Wait a minute...is there something in baby formula you teens today are using to make drugs. Do kids get high off of formula?"
The bagger laughed. The checker kind of looked at me weird. The lady behind me laughed.
I continued. "I can just picture a bunch of kids hanging out in the parking lot waiting for their buddy. Yo did you get the Enfamil? No wait. Kids would call it something cool like Enfy or NF. Yo did you get the Enfy? And then they would all head out to a rave."
Again the bagger laughed. The lady behind me laughed. The checker smiled. A teen aged girl, the checker in the next aisle, laughed.
"And now it makes sense to me, " I said, "why all the kids at raves suck on pacifiers. You kids do use formula to get high."
The kids nodded. I made a few more jokes about the stealing formula. I felt my posture and attitude change. I felt loose and carefree. I felt all cool and hip hanging and chatting with the teenagers as they scanned and bagged my groceries.
"You see that?" I asked pointing to the large purple container of Miralax the checker was about to scan, "That bottle costs eighteen bucks. It is not locked up. It is just sitting on a shelf. I could fit that in my pants and walk right out of here and no one would know."
"What is that?" asked the bagger.
"Yeah? What's Miralax?" asked the checker.
"It's, ummm. It is a stool softener."
The lady behind me tried to stifle her very loud laugh. The three teenagers all gave me a very weird look, not knowing how to respond.
I could feel my posture and attitude change as my face reddened. They scanned the rest of my order in silence. I was no longer cool.
Now when I go shopping to pick up baby formula I feel a little embarrassed.
The supermarket, where I shop, keeps the powdered baby formula locked up behind the customer service desk. Not only do I have to wait for someone at the customer service desk to open the display case, they also have to hand deliver the canister of formula to the register where I plan to check out. It is top notch security. So I have to do all of my shopping, first, before I can request the formula. There have been many times I have left the store without Jackson's formula because I forgot to go to the customer service desk.
One night, last week, a teen aged boy was working the register and another teenage boy was bagging when I was scanning out. I told the kid at the register I needed formula but there was no one at the customer service desk. He paged the manager and continued to scan my other items. I asked the boy why they locked up the formula. He did not know and deferred to the bagger. The bagger said that formula is stolen a lot and so they lock it up.
"People steal formula?" I asked.
"Yeah. That and pregnancy tests." said the bagger. "We don't sell the pregnancy tests here at all because they get stolen so much."
A lady got in line behind me and started unpacking her shopping cart.
"I just don't get it." I said still waiting for the manager. "Why would people steal formula? And of all the stuff that could be locked up behind the counter, formula is the only one. I mean you guys sell NyQuil and that is not locked up. That is a drug. I could see teenagers stealing that. No offense. Wait a minute...is there something in baby formula you teens today are using to make drugs. Do kids get high off of formula?"
The bagger laughed. The checker kind of looked at me weird. The lady behind me laughed.
I continued. "I can just picture a bunch of kids hanging out in the parking lot waiting for their buddy. Yo did you get the Enfamil? No wait. Kids would call it something cool like Enfy or NF. Yo did you get the Enfy? And then they would all head out to a rave."
Again the bagger laughed. The lady behind me laughed. The checker smiled. A teen aged girl, the checker in the next aisle, laughed.
"And now it makes sense to me, " I said, "why all the kids at raves suck on pacifiers. You kids do use formula to get high."
"That's pretty funny." said the bagger laughing. "But no. It's just that baby formula is expensive, so they lock it up."
"A can of formula, the one I get, is only twelve dollars and look at the size of the can. It is difficult to steal. Where would someone put that? A purse maybe. But you would have to be an expert thief to steal a can that size. Where would you put it? I think that maybe the management here is just a little crazy. You know what I mean?"The kids nodded. I made a few more jokes about the stealing formula. I felt my posture and attitude change. I felt loose and carefree. I felt all cool and hip hanging and chatting with the teenagers as they scanned and bagged my groceries.
"You see that?" I asked pointing to the large purple container of Miralax the checker was about to scan, "That bottle costs eighteen bucks. It is not locked up. It is just sitting on a shelf. I could fit that in my pants and walk right out of here and no one would know."
"What is that?" asked the bagger.
"Yeah? What's Miralax?" asked the checker.
"It's, ummm. It is a stool softener."
The lady behind me tried to stifle her very loud laugh. The three teenagers all gave me a very weird look, not knowing how to respond.
I could feel my posture and attitude change as my face reddened. They scanned the rest of my order in silence. I was no longer cool.
Now when I go shopping to pick up baby formula I feel a little embarrassed.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Monitor
I hung a new light fixture in my dining room. Somewhere between the circuit box and my new light fixture, and my wiring job, there is something that blew out my computer's monitor.
Great googly moogly!
Great googly moogly!
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Daniel-san
A few months ago Lauren asked me if we could re-do the living room and re-do the dining room by Christmas. A few months ago I said, "Sure. No problem."
Since that time I have done very little to get it done. It just so happened that I had some vacation time that I needed to use before the end of the year. I took this week off to finish the two rooms and maybe spend some time with the kids doing holiday stuff.
The dining room required some wallpaper removal. Vinyl wallpaper. With the special two-ply cloth backing invented by the famous designer Ugotta Befuckingkiddingme. Basically I had to remove the wallpaper twice. First I had to take down the vinyl. I then had to spray and scrape a second layer of paper.
When Ugotta first designed her wallpaper she hired a chemist to make sure the glue used on her special wallpaper would work well. She hired Ike Antbelievethisshit who created the world's toughest glue. I had to use a razor scraper to remove the top layer of glue and then I had to use a special scrub brush to take away any residue.
The repetitive motion of the razor scraper and the scrub brush reminded me of the various "training" scenes in the Karate Kid movie. Instead of "wax on" and "paint the fence" I kept uttering to myself "Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down. Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down." Removing the glue took me the better part of a day and now my arms are like Jello.
The razor scraper and shaky hands caused all kinds of divots in the wall which begat me having to Spackle and sand the walls. What I thought was going to be a one, maybe, two day project has already put a big dent into my vacation. I hope to start painting by day three.
The good thing to come out of this home improvement is I now can defend myself against anyone who tries to punch at me three feet above my head. "Razor scrape up. Hai."
Since that time I have done very little to get it done. It just so happened that I had some vacation time that I needed to use before the end of the year. I took this week off to finish the two rooms and maybe spend some time with the kids doing holiday stuff.
The dining room required some wallpaper removal. Vinyl wallpaper. With the special two-ply cloth backing invented by the famous designer Ugotta Befuckingkiddingme. Basically I had to remove the wallpaper twice. First I had to take down the vinyl. I then had to spray and scrape a second layer of paper.
When Ugotta first designed her wallpaper she hired a chemist to make sure the glue used on her special wallpaper would work well. She hired Ike Antbelievethisshit who created the world's toughest glue. I had to use a razor scraper to remove the top layer of glue and then I had to use a special scrub brush to take away any residue.
The repetitive motion of the razor scraper and the scrub brush reminded me of the various "training" scenes in the Karate Kid movie. Instead of "wax on" and "paint the fence" I kept uttering to myself "Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down. Razor scrape up, scrub the wall down." Removing the glue took me the better part of a day and now my arms are like Jello.
The razor scraper and shaky hands caused all kinds of divots in the wall which begat me having to Spackle and sand the walls. What I thought was going to be a one, maybe, two day project has already put a big dent into my vacation. I hope to start painting by day three.The good thing to come out of this home improvement is I now can defend myself against anyone who tries to punch at me three feet above my head. "Razor scrape up. Hai."
If you are looking for cool ideas for home improvement projects check out Genuine Style by Direct Buy.
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