One of the first regulars readers of this blog, back when I first started it in 2005, was my brother Anonymous. I call him him anonymous because that is how he has always commented on my posts, as Anonymous. He never wanted to give himself a "blog handle" as he called it. Today is Anonymous' birthday. In honor of his birthday I felt the need to tell a story about him.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the early to mid 90's my brother Anonymous was the General Manager at a very popular nightclub in the city of Philadelphia. When I was in need of a job my brother offered me a position as a doorman. After a few months and a some extreme circumstances I found myself as the operations manager of the club. The nightclub had four bars with 2 to 3 beer boxes each, two beer tubs, a VIP lounge, a VIP entrance separate from the other two front doors, 4 security gates, two back doors, a beer room, a liquor closet, a coat room, a managers office and a security office. Part of being a manager was carrying around a key chain with keys to all the various rooms and locks in the club. Our key rings would put Schneider's from One Day At A Time key rings to shame.
The lawful occupancy of the club was 600 or odd people but on most weekend nights we packed in as much as 1200 people.The night club was THEE place to be on any night but even more so on a Saturday night. The club was located in a perfect spot for nightlife, had the top DJs in the city and the best looking, most skilled, the fastest bartenders of any club.
One Saturday night, due to the fact that PA is a state which has a liquor control board as well as some weird and outdated laws, the PA State Police paid us a visit. Twenty to thirty state police officers entered the club, ordered the music turned off, started carding patrons, confiscating liquor and cash registers and questioning the staff. Most likely the state police raided our club because someone from our competition (another club owner or manager) called the police with a complaint (my guess it was the manager of the nightclub down the street that had a giant Sphinx in their main floor. They never liked us).
At one point the lead investigator started to question my brother Anonymous. The lead investigator asked to see the security video tapes that were recording and locked up in the security office. My brother Anonymous, in an effort to stall for time, protect the club as well as resist the illegal search and seizure that was being perpetrated by the state police, told the lead investigator that security office was locked and that no one in the club had the key. The lead investigator spotted the huge key ring hanging from my brother's belt.
"Not one of those keys will open that door?" The policeman asked.
"No." Anonymous said knowing that he did.
"I will tell you what" the officer said, "I am going to try every one of those keys in that door. If one of those keys works I am going to take you jail."
As my brother and I watched, the officer took the keys from Anonymous and started one by one to try each key in the door. The officer would insert the key, look at my brother for a reaction, turn the key, nothing would happen and then move to the next. He made sure he looked at my brother with each key. Anonymous and I both knew that one of the keys was going to work.
The officer tried 6 or so keys and was only 2 keys away from getting to key that would open the door. He looked at Anoymous with a determined stare and started with the next key.
My brother mustered up the best mock surprise face he could and said, "OH. OOOHHH. You mean the key that would open THAT door? I know which one that is."
I could not help but laugh.
The officer could not help but laugh.
Anonymous handed the officer the correct key and no one went to jail that night.
I still laugh thinking about it.
Happy Birthday Anonymous.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Loser
A few weeks ago Lauren convinced me to run in a 5k race called the St. Patty's Day Shocker. The race raised money to buy defibrillators for the areas public buildings. Hence the name "shocker" as part of the title of race. The run was the Sunday before March 17th, hosted by a local bar, each race participant was going to recieve a free pint of Guinness at the end of the race, hence the "St. Patty's" part of the name. People were encouraged to wear green, dress in costumes or other St. Patty's day themed get ups.
The race met my three criteria for my participation. 1)It was a small race, not too crowded with serious runners although competitive. 2)People in costumes or semi ridiculous outfits (which most runners by default even without trying wear semi-ridiculous outfits). And 3) Beer. By the way these three criteria pretty much are my criteria for participating in anything.
I placed 80th out of 230 with a time of 26:39. Lauren came in 66th place over all. Runners that finished before me included, a 60 year old woman, a man wearing a beer stein hat and some dude who wore a green sequined jump suit. To see pictures you can go here.
Lauren and I enjoyed a breakfast buffet and our Guinness' beers while discussing the course and the competition. Even though neither of us placed in our age groups it was nice to be involved in a race together. There is nothing like good friends and beer to make you feel less like a loser.
Later that same week, Maxfield was involved in a race of his own. His school hosts a pinewood derby race every year which raises money for the Home and School Association. I approached building Max's car with a "it takes a village" mentality. Max drew the shape, Mr V. ,our neighbor, cut it out with a ban saw. I sanded it. Mr. Jones, another neighbor, chiseled the spaces for the weights. Max painted it.
A fine looking car.
The night of the race is a big family event at the school. Mr. V was there helping with the race. Mr. Jones showed up to watch. Lauren and I brought Wyatt along so he could cheer on his brother. High school kids volunteered helping to run the concession stand as well as keeping kids occupied with face painting and crafts.
The way the race is run is similar to a playoff bracket. Races are held within each grade, heat by heat until there is a winner. Then the first grade winner competed against the Kindergarten winner, the 2nd grade winner vs. the third grade winner, 4th grade vs 5th grade, heat by heat until an overall champion is determined. Maxfield won his first heat but was eliminated in the second heat* to his buddy DK. Max was genuinely happy for DK. I was pleased that there were no tears.
During a lull in the racing action Max and Wyatt got their faces painted and we bought Popsicles.
DK went on to compete against G, Max's best buddy who lives up the street. G went on to win 1st grade then compete and win third place overall. Max, Wyatt, DK and G all sat together watching the other races. Each of them happy.
There is nothing like good friends, face painting and Popsicles to make you feel less like a loser.
The race met my three criteria for my participation. 1)It was a small race, not too crowded with serious runners although competitive. 2)People in costumes or semi ridiculous outfits (which most runners by default even without trying wear semi-ridiculous outfits). And 3) Beer. By the way these three criteria pretty much are my criteria for participating in anything.
I placed 80th out of 230 with a time of 26:39. Lauren came in 66th place over all. Runners that finished before me included, a 60 year old woman, a man wearing a beer stein hat and some dude who wore a green sequined jump suit. To see pictures you can go here.
Lauren and I enjoyed a breakfast buffet and our Guinness' beers while discussing the course and the competition. Even though neither of us placed in our age groups it was nice to be involved in a race together. There is nothing like good friends and beer to make you feel less like a loser.
Later that same week, Maxfield was involved in a race of his own. His school hosts a pinewood derby race every year which raises money for the Home and School Association. I approached building Max's car with a "it takes a village" mentality. Max drew the shape, Mr V. ,our neighbor, cut it out with a ban saw. I sanded it. Mr. Jones, another neighbor, chiseled the spaces for the weights. Max painted it.
A fine looking car.
The night of the race is a big family event at the school. Mr. V was there helping with the race. Mr. Jones showed up to watch. Lauren and I brought Wyatt along so he could cheer on his brother. High school kids volunteered helping to run the concession stand as well as keeping kids occupied with face painting and crafts.The way the race is run is similar to a playoff bracket. Races are held within each grade, heat by heat until there is a winner. Then the first grade winner competed against the Kindergarten winner, the 2nd grade winner vs. the third grade winner, 4th grade vs 5th grade, heat by heat until an overall champion is determined. Maxfield won his first heat but was eliminated in the second heat* to his buddy DK. Max was genuinely happy for DK. I was pleased that there were no tears.
During a lull in the racing action Max and Wyatt got their faces painted and we bought Popsicles.
DK went on to compete against G, Max's best buddy who lives up the street. G went on to win 1st grade then compete and win third place overall. Max, Wyatt, DK and G all sat together watching the other races. Each of them happy.
There is nothing like good friends, face painting and Popsicles to make you feel less like a loser.
*Max's car's first race ranked 29 out of 125 races with a time of 3.697 seconds. The over all winners car ranked first and had a best time of 3.588 seconds.
Also the commenter Mindy won the Supercuts gift card contest from a couple of posts ago. Nothing like a haircut to make a you feel less like a loser.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Distraction
"You seem a little stressed out." Lauren said to me in a matter of fact way. We were cleaning up from lunch. "You need to go and drink some beers with the guys or something."
"The guys?" I said. "I don't have any guys. Besides it is Sunday afternoon. 1 o'clock no less."
"If you could go and drink beers and hang out with someone," Lauren asked "who would it be?"
I thought to myself, "Bob. But he lives 40 minutes away. Half my beer drinking time would be spent on travel time. Dave, but it would be weird to call him and ask him to go drink beers. He would think I was in some serious trouble."
I said. "I don't know."
Lauren finished wiping down the table.
"Ken." I blurted.
"What? Who?" Lauren asked.
"Ken M." I actually said his last name but I do try to give people a bit of anonymity on this blog to potentially save them from embarrassment. "I could always call Ken and say Let's meet up for a beer or whatever, and Ken would be like, 'Okay."
"Call Ken." Lauren said.
"I haven't spoken to Ken since I dry humped in the super market parking lot. I am not calling him."
I then took Maxfield and Wyatt food shopping, to Rita's Water Ice for free water ice day, then to play baseball, (me as a dad playing ball, not as a coach with other kids) then to the playground (apparently me as dad playing ball is no where near as fun as when there are other kids around) then we went home.
"I am going to go out to get beer." I told Lauren.
"Really?" She asked.
"Yes. You asked me who I would want to just hang out with and have a few beers, well that would be you. We will sit out back, in the sun, and have a couple while the kids play."
"Okay."
"I will be back in a bit. Any preference?" I asked as I grabbed my keys. "Blue Moon or Yuengling Lager?"
"Lager." She said.
I returned 20 minutes later. Lauren greeted me at the driveway. A maroon minivan was backing out. It was my neighbor Lisa's Van. My boys play with her boys all of the time. My two older boys were inside the minivan.
"Where are the boys going?" I asked.
"To Lisa's to play with her boys. Lisa asked me if I wanted to go to Home Goods. I said yes but I needed to wait for you to come home since Jackson is napping. Her husband is watching the kids while we go to Home Goods. She is coming back to pick me up."
"Wait," I said "you are going to Home Goods with Lisa? What happened to drinking beers out back in the sun with me?"
Then it hit me, Home Goods. Lauren said Home Goods. The store that on most days, can just overpower Ikea as the best store ever, in the whole wide world. Me and a few Yeunglings didn't stand a chance.
A few minutes later I grabbed a beer and went out back. I sat on a wicker rocker in the middle of my yard and watched the dog chew a stick. I probably looked like a fool to my older neighbor who was busy raking her back yard and filling her birdfeeders with seed.
A few minutes after that Lauren and Lisa popped their heads out the back door.
"We're leaving." Lauren said. "Keep an ear out for Jackson."
"You are like the dog in the movie UP." I told Lauren. "But instead of the word squirrel, you hear Home Goods and you're like all distracted."
My neighbor, Mrs. T. (no relation to Mr. T of the I pitty the fool fame. I just am not using her last name give anonymity to people to save them the embarrassment of being on this blog. Although if her husband did use the phrase I pitty the fool it would be awesome.) head popped up from her diligent raking duties and said "Did you say Home Goods?"
It was like a squirrell ran in front of all of them.
"The guys?" I said. "I don't have any guys. Besides it is Sunday afternoon. 1 o'clock no less."
"If you could go and drink beers and hang out with someone," Lauren asked "who would it be?"
I thought to myself, "Bob. But he lives 40 minutes away. Half my beer drinking time would be spent on travel time. Dave, but it would be weird to call him and ask him to go drink beers. He would think I was in some serious trouble."
I said. "I don't know."
Lauren finished wiping down the table.
"Ken." I blurted.
"What? Who?" Lauren asked.
"Ken M." I actually said his last name but I do try to give people a bit of anonymity on this blog to potentially save them from embarrassment. "I could always call Ken and say Let's meet up for a beer or whatever, and Ken would be like, 'Okay."
"Call Ken." Lauren said.
"I haven't spoken to Ken since I dry humped in the super market parking lot. I am not calling him."
I then took Maxfield and Wyatt food shopping, to Rita's Water Ice for free water ice day, then to play baseball, (me as a dad playing ball, not as a coach with other kids) then to the playground (apparently me as dad playing ball is no where near as fun as when there are other kids around) then we went home.
"I am going to go out to get beer." I told Lauren.
"Really?" She asked.
"Yes. You asked me who I would want to just hang out with and have a few beers, well that would be you. We will sit out back, in the sun, and have a couple while the kids play."
"Okay."
"I will be back in a bit. Any preference?" I asked as I grabbed my keys. "Blue Moon or Yuengling Lager?"
"Lager." She said.
I returned 20 minutes later. Lauren greeted me at the driveway. A maroon minivan was backing out. It was my neighbor Lisa's Van. My boys play with her boys all of the time. My two older boys were inside the minivan.
"Where are the boys going?" I asked.
"To Lisa's to play with her boys. Lisa asked me if I wanted to go to Home Goods. I said yes but I needed to wait for you to come home since Jackson is napping. Her husband is watching the kids while we go to Home Goods. She is coming back to pick me up."
"Wait," I said "you are going to Home Goods with Lisa? What happened to drinking beers out back in the sun with me?"
Then it hit me, Home Goods. Lauren said Home Goods. The store that on most days, can just overpower Ikea as the best store ever, in the whole wide world. Me and a few Yeunglings didn't stand a chance.
A few minutes later I grabbed a beer and went out back. I sat on a wicker rocker in the middle of my yard and watched the dog chew a stick. I probably looked like a fool to my older neighbor who was busy raking her back yard and filling her birdfeeders with seed.
A few minutes after that Lauren and Lisa popped their heads out the back door.
"We're leaving." Lauren said. "Keep an ear out for Jackson."
"You are like the dog in the movie UP." I told Lauren. "But instead of the word squirrel, you hear Home Goods and you're like all distracted."
My neighbor, Mrs. T. (no relation to Mr. T of the I pitty the fool fame. I just am not using her last name give anonymity to people to save them the embarrassment of being on this blog. Although if her husband did use the phrase I pitty the fool it would be awesome.) head popped up from her diligent raking duties and said "Did you say Home Goods?"
It was like a squirrell ran in front of all of them.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Filter
Maxfield's Mom Mom bought him a Snap-Circuits electronics project kit for his birthday. Using the resistors, capacitors, battery packs, motors and choke filters a kid can build all kinds of neat projects as long as he makes the right connections. Max and his Mom Mom discovered the Snap-Circuit toy at Henry's grandmother's house and Max's Mom Mom thought Max would enjoy one of his own.
Max's Mom Mom, my mother-in-law, is very close friends with Henry's Mom Mom. Henry is my best friend's son. Henry's Mom Mom is my best friend's mother-in-law. So my mother-in -law is friends with my best friend's mother-in-law. They live down the street from one another. Henry is also my Godson. Maxfield is also the Godson of Henry's dad. It is not as confusing as it sounds but it makes for an interesting grapevine. It is all how it is filtered.
"Johnny and the Mothers are playing 'Stompin at the Savoy' in Vermont tonight."
"Vermin's going to kill my brother at the Savoy theater tonight?"
"I didn't say that."
"No. But I know this grapevine."
~Johnny Dangerously~
Anyway, Henry told Max that one of the 300 projects in the kit was building a radio. Henry told Max that when he built his radio he was able to listen to the Phillies Game.
The other night I cam home from work and Max was working with his circuit kit. He was determined to build the radio by himself. He already succeeded in building the receiver and making a noise but was unable to tune the radio into a specific station. Somewhere on the board there was a connection missing. I looked over the plans, tweaked a line and showed Max the tuner which would filter and pinpoint the signals. Soon he was able to hear voices from the small plastic speaker.
"I want to hear the baseball game." Max said beaming.
I knew that he wanted, the next time he saw Henry, to be able to tell him that he too built a radio and listened to a game.
"Sorry Max, there are no games on yet." I said. "The season hasn't started."
Max continued to turn the tuner. He finally landed on a very clear signal from the local news radio station.
"What's this?" he said leaning in to hear the tinny voices and fake news ticker.
"It's the news Max."
"Hey Wyatt. " Max called into the other room, "Do you want to listen to the news with me?"
The two little boys sat at the kitchen table together listening to the news for about 10 minutes.
"How big is a tsunami?" Max asked clearly picking up on something said through the radio.
We already had a brief discussion about tidal waves and tsunamis a few days earlier when the events that happened in Japan first were unfolding. During that conversation I flashed back to memories of Peter Jennings, Barbara Walters and Harry Reasoner discussing events and showing images of a jungle littered with bodies in the Jonestown Massacre, blindfolded and scared US hostages in Iran and large smoking reactors on Three Mile Island. Back then we only had 3 networks and a daily newspaper but I remember feeling inundated with the bad stories. None of it was filtered because it was the news. Or maybe it was filtered because it was the news. But I also recall being totally frightened by those stories, but that was also a time where at least once a month in our elementary school we held duck and cover drills in case the Soviets started bombing us. All of this scary stuff was happening in the real world, not to forget that with my overactive imagination, I was also terrified of alien abductions, Bigfoot, ghosts, the Hookman, and the dark.
We now live in a world where there is a constant flow of images and stories on cable TV and the Internet. I saw articles blaming the people of Japan for the earthquake. I saw videos and heard stories on Facebook and Twitter of people using God's punishment as an answer for the reason behind the tsunami. And as much as those videos and stories bother me, nothing was worse than various commentators and newscasters discussing the loss of life with so much indifference as if they were talking about a score in a football game. I felt inundated in the late 1970's I can only imagine what my kids must feel now.
I bookmarked some web pages with videos I considered safe for my kids to watch regarding the tsunami in Japan. I felt the need to filter the information they received. I want them to learn and be aware of the world but I don't want them afraid of it. When Max asked me how big a tsunami was we watched those videos together. Max and Wyatt were amazed and in awe of the strength of the water and amount of destruction it caused. They asked a few questions to which I had very little answers.
Mother Nature, acts of God (which I mean in the non religious, smiting or smoting way but more in the way to say things just happen) and Natural Disasters rarely have any answers. But making sure that kids have an understanding of what is happening in the world is all about how the information is filtered.
I wish more people filtered what they put up on Facebook or other internet sites and in the news. The world is a scarey enough place already with Bigfoot lurking about.
Max's Mom Mom, my mother-in-law, is very close friends with Henry's Mom Mom. Henry is my best friend's son. Henry's Mom Mom is my best friend's mother-in-law. So my mother-in -law is friends with my best friend's mother-in-law. They live down the street from one another. Henry is also my Godson. Maxfield is also the Godson of Henry's dad. It is not as confusing as it sounds but it makes for an interesting grapevine. It is all how it is filtered.
"Johnny and the Mothers are playing 'Stompin at the Savoy' in Vermont tonight."
"Vermin's going to kill my brother at the Savoy theater tonight?"
"I didn't say that."
"No. But I know this grapevine."
~Johnny Dangerously~
Anyway, Henry told Max that one of the 300 projects in the kit was building a radio. Henry told Max that when he built his radio he was able to listen to the Phillies Game.
The other night I cam home from work and Max was working with his circuit kit. He was determined to build the radio by himself. He already succeeded in building the receiver and making a noise but was unable to tune the radio into a specific station. Somewhere on the board there was a connection missing. I looked over the plans, tweaked a line and showed Max the tuner which would filter and pinpoint the signals. Soon he was able to hear voices from the small plastic speaker.
"I want to hear the baseball game." Max said beaming.
I knew that he wanted, the next time he saw Henry, to be able to tell him that he too built a radio and listened to a game.
"Sorry Max, there are no games on yet." I said. "The season hasn't started."
Max continued to turn the tuner. He finally landed on a very clear signal from the local news radio station.
"What's this?" he said leaning in to hear the tinny voices and fake news ticker.
"It's the news Max."
"Hey Wyatt. " Max called into the other room, "Do you want to listen to the news with me?"
The two little boys sat at the kitchen table together listening to the news for about 10 minutes.
"How big is a tsunami?" Max asked clearly picking up on something said through the radio.
We already had a brief discussion about tidal waves and tsunamis a few days earlier when the events that happened in Japan first were unfolding. During that conversation I flashed back to memories of Peter Jennings, Barbara Walters and Harry Reasoner discussing events and showing images of a jungle littered with bodies in the Jonestown Massacre, blindfolded and scared US hostages in Iran and large smoking reactors on Three Mile Island. Back then we only had 3 networks and a daily newspaper but I remember feeling inundated with the bad stories. None of it was filtered because it was the news. Or maybe it was filtered because it was the news. But I also recall being totally frightened by those stories, but that was also a time where at least once a month in our elementary school we held duck and cover drills in case the Soviets started bombing us. All of this scary stuff was happening in the real world, not to forget that with my overactive imagination, I was also terrified of alien abductions, Bigfoot, ghosts, the Hookman, and the dark.
We now live in a world where there is a constant flow of images and stories on cable TV and the Internet. I saw articles blaming the people of Japan for the earthquake. I saw videos and heard stories on Facebook and Twitter of people using God's punishment as an answer for the reason behind the tsunami. And as much as those videos and stories bother me, nothing was worse than various commentators and newscasters discussing the loss of life with so much indifference as if they were talking about a score in a football game. I felt inundated in the late 1970's I can only imagine what my kids must feel now.
I bookmarked some web pages with videos I considered safe for my kids to watch regarding the tsunami in Japan. I felt the need to filter the information they received. I want them to learn and be aware of the world but I don't want them afraid of it. When Max asked me how big a tsunami was we watched those videos together. Max and Wyatt were amazed and in awe of the strength of the water and amount of destruction it caused. They asked a few questions to which I had very little answers.
Mother Nature, acts of God (which I mean in the non religious, smiting or smoting way but more in the way to say things just happen) and Natural Disasters rarely have any answers. But making sure that kids have an understanding of what is happening in the world is all about how the information is filtered.
I wish more people filtered what they put up on Facebook or other internet sites and in the news. The world is a scarey enough place already with Bigfoot lurking about.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Super Cut
When I was a little kid I am pretty sure that my mom cut my hair. I don't ever recall going to a barber.
I think by the time I reached 5th grade I avoided haircuts all together (William 4'8 in 5th grade 5'4 with the Afro).Somewhere around middle school I became very vain about how my hair looked. I was lucky enough that by the time I reached high school my sister was getting her cosmetology license. I was also lucky enough that my sister smoked. For a quick bicycle ride to the 7-11 and a pack of Marlboro I could get my haircut any time I wanted.
My sister had a pack a day habit. I had really nice hair in high school. Besides my eyes I always thought my hair was my best feature.
I still have nice hair although I no longer have my sister cut it. Now I either go see my cousin Jeannean, who is a Master Stylist which is like the Yoda of Hair Cuttery, or I go to the local Supercuts.
It has been a while since I have had my hair cut and it is getting bit unruly. The other day I received an email from the Supercuts people offering me a free haircut if I would tell the people who read here about their Hunt For Houston Promotion. If you go to Supercuts Facebook Page you can enter to for a chance to win a trip for 2 to Houston from April 1 – 5, 2011 for March Madness Basketball action. The package includes airfare, 4 nights’ hotel accommodations and $500 of spending money to help enjoy the on-court action. Follow the instructions on the Hunt For Houston promotion to enter a chance to win. Their contest ends on Saturday March 12th. I have nothing to do with how they will choose their winner for the free trip. I am merely passing along information.
A free haircut for me to post a couple of links is easier than riding my bike to the 7/11 for a pack of smokes.
Supercuts also offered me one prize pack (which includes $20. gift card to Supercuts, a $20. gift card to Sports Authority and a desktop basketball game) to give away to one of my readers. For a chance to win the prize pack just leave me a comment telling me what you consider is your best feature. I will pick one comment at random to win the gift card prize pack. I will take comments up until 11 PM Saturday March 12th. I will notify the winner via email so please leave a valid way to contact you.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Not a Clarinet
When Lauren and I first started dating Lauren told me a story about how she played the Clarinet when she was in grade school and that she wished she never gave it up. She said she was more interested in learning the piano or guitar now as an adult, but continuing the Clarinet would have given her a good musical foundation. I took a mental note with my mental pen and the following Christmas I bought Lauren a Clarinet. Lauren was appreciative of the gift but the Clarinet sat in a closet for years until we sold it at a garage sale. Somewhere between her first statement about the Clarinet and the second statement I ran out of mental ink. The Clarinet was one of the best/worst presents I have ever given Lauren.
A couple of months ago I asked Lauren what she wanted to do for her birthday, which is this week. Although her birthday is not a milestone birthday or anything I suggested we try to get away for a weekend. I am smart enough not to state her age, but a weekend without the kids would be a nice change of pace to celebrate the eighth anniversary of her 29th birthday. Lauren told me she would love to go shopping/antique-ing, go out to dinner at a nice place "nothing too fancy-schmancy", maybe a little bit of pampering, sleep in, and she would love to be able to go with me on a nice run through the country side or some other scenic place. I took some serious mental notes while she described her perfect weekend.
I checked with my mom to see if she could take the boys overnight one Saturday. She said yes. Checking that off my list made planning everything else easier, or so I thought.
I suggested we look into bed and breakfast places in Lambertville NJ or New Hope PA. Both places are quaint towns on the Delaware River, close to home, with plenty of shopping, restaurants and antique stores. For a few weeks I emailed several places looking for deals or discounts and to see if I could offer advertising space on the blog in exchange for a discounted stay. I learned two things; one, Bed and Breakfasts are expensive and two, my blog has no influence whatsoever. I told Lauren that staying overnight somewhere may be out due to budgetary restraints but since both places were close our house we could always just go back home. My mom would still have the kids and Lauren could sleep in.
This past Friday I used this thing called the Internet and did some searches for discounted B & Bs. There was a place called the Golden Plough Inn in Peddlers Village that was offering a serious discounted rate for one of their deluxe rooms, with a fireplace and Jacuzzi. Peddlers Village is a small village comprised of over 70 plus stores and restaurants adjacent to an small outlet store shopping center located in the heart of Bucks County PA farm country. Lauren and I have been to Peddler's Village dozens of times but we never stayed overnight.
We dropped the kids off at my mom's Saturday at noon and headed out for Lauren's birthday weekend. We walked in and out of antique stores without having to repeat over and over again "don't touch anything in the store." Lauren shopped in the outlet stores and actually tried on several outfits without having to park a stroller in the dressing room. We browsed an art gallery and had a conversation with the owner without once being interrupted by a screaming child. We ate a delicious dinner at a casual restaurant while drinking beer and not once did we have to scooch under the table to search for a missing blue crayon or dropped fork. We went to our room and sipped cheap champagne while sitting in a Jacuzzi.
We ran down nice country roads. In the pouring rain. I was nervous we would get hit by a car.
There is horse (no I do not mean Lauren) in this picture. In the pouring rain.
My favorite part about Peddler's Village is the names of the stores. I can't help but snicker like a 12 year old.
We ran past Knobs and Knockers (snicker). In the pouring rain.
We ran past the Cock and Bull (snicker). In the pouring rain.
We ran past the Nut Kettle (snicker). In the pouring rain. Do you know where the Nut Kettle is located in Peddler's Village? Just South of the Cock and Bull. I am not kidding.
Do you see how far ahead of me she is? We didn't really run together, it was more like me being nervous, panting, out of breath, just trying to keep up with her. Which after some thought, really sums up how I felt about her when we first met 13 years ago.
A couple of months ago I asked Lauren what she wanted to do for her birthday, which is this week. Although her birthday is not a milestone birthday or anything I suggested we try to get away for a weekend. I am smart enough not to state her age, but a weekend without the kids would be a nice change of pace to celebrate the eighth anniversary of her 29th birthday. Lauren told me she would love to go shopping/antique-ing, go out to dinner at a nice place "nothing too fancy-schmancy", maybe a little bit of pampering, sleep in, and she would love to be able to go with me on a nice run through the country side or some other scenic place. I took some serious mental notes while she described her perfect weekend.
I checked with my mom to see if she could take the boys overnight one Saturday. She said yes. Checking that off my list made planning everything else easier, or so I thought.
I suggested we look into bed and breakfast places in Lambertville NJ or New Hope PA. Both places are quaint towns on the Delaware River, close to home, with plenty of shopping, restaurants and antique stores. For a few weeks I emailed several places looking for deals or discounts and to see if I could offer advertising space on the blog in exchange for a discounted stay. I learned two things; one, Bed and Breakfasts are expensive and two, my blog has no influence whatsoever. I told Lauren that staying overnight somewhere may be out due to budgetary restraints but since both places were close our house we could always just go back home. My mom would still have the kids and Lauren could sleep in.
This past Friday I used this thing called the Internet and did some searches for discounted B & Bs. There was a place called the Golden Plough Inn in Peddlers Village that was offering a serious discounted rate for one of their deluxe rooms, with a fireplace and Jacuzzi. Peddlers Village is a small village comprised of over 70 plus stores and restaurants adjacent to an small outlet store shopping center located in the heart of Bucks County PA farm country. Lauren and I have been to Peddler's Village dozens of times but we never stayed overnight.
We dropped the kids off at my mom's Saturday at noon and headed out for Lauren's birthday weekend. We walked in and out of antique stores without having to repeat over and over again "don't touch anything in the store." Lauren shopped in the outlet stores and actually tried on several outfits without having to park a stroller in the dressing room. We browsed an art gallery and had a conversation with the owner without once being interrupted by a screaming child. We ate a delicious dinner at a casual restaurant while drinking beer and not once did we have to scooch under the table to search for a missing blue crayon or dropped fork. We went to our room and sipped cheap champagne while sitting in a Jacuzzi.
Lauren relaxing in the Lobby of the Golden Plough Inn.
I reviewed my mental birthday notes. Shopping/Antiques- Check. Non Fancy Schmancy dinner-Check. Jacuzzi equals pampering -Check. Only two more requests to meet to give Lauren her perfect get away; go for a scenic run and sleep in.
Sunday morning we slept in until 6:30 AM. Most people would not consider that sleeping in but it was later than we normally wake up. Lauren looked out the window. It looked like it had rained earlier but now it was only a slight drizzle. We checked the weather channel. It was 53 degrees, perfect for running a nice, scenic, country side farm run together. We started our run at 7:00 AM
At 7:04 AM the skies opened up and we were drenched. Lauren decided that since we were already soaked we may as well continue running, after all it was her birthday wish to run with me. However, there was really no running with me. It was more like her running ahead of me.
We ran down nice country roads. In the pouring rain. I was nervous we would get hit by a car.
There is horse (no I do not mean Lauren) in this picture. In the pouring rain.My favorite part about Peddler's Village is the names of the stores. I can't help but snicker like a 12 year old.
We ran past Knobs and Knockers (snicker). In the pouring rain.
We ran past the Cock and Bull (snicker). In the pouring rain.
We ran past the Nut Kettle (snicker). In the pouring rain. Do you know where the Nut Kettle is located in Peddler's Village? Just South of the Cock and Bull. I am not kidding.We ran down some more farm roads. In the pouring rain. My clothes were soaked. I was hot and cold at the same time. I was tired. This was becoming the best/worst present ever.
Do you see how far ahead of me she is? We didn't really run together, it was more like me being nervous, panting, out of breath, just trying to keep up with her. Which after some thought, really sums up how I felt about her when we first met 13 years ago. Happy Birthday Lauren.
Friday, March 04, 2011
Whatifits
Wyatt, like most middle child four year olds, starts most of his sentences with one of the same three phrases. The phrases are not really phrases at all but more like a an amalgam of words that have become a word in itself.
The words are Thatsbecausehe, Whatifits, and Thatsnofair. They come up in any and almost all conversations.
Let us start with Whatifits, which is used in conversations based around Wyatt trying to use Jedi Mind Tricks to get his way.
Eating dinner--Whatifits really gross? Can I still have dessert?
The words are Thatsbecausehe, Whatifits, and Thatsnofair. They come up in any and almost all conversations.
Let us start with Whatifits, which is used in conversations based around Wyatt trying to use Jedi Mind Tricks to get his way.
Eating dinner--Whatifits really gross? Can I still have dessert?
Going to the bathroom--Whatifits got germs in there? Do I have to go?
Going to bed-Whatifits really itchy in my bed? Can I sleep in your bed?
Discussing safety issues--Whatifits zombies attacking? Can I call 911? Whatifits a stranger wants to talk to me? Can I call 911? Whatifits a kid that is the stranger. Can I talk to them? Then can I call 911? (Wyatt is now fascinated with 911 partly due to lessons at preschool as well as the fact that Jackson accidentally dialed once and Wyatt was impressed that the police actually showed up.)
Playing games-Whatifits the Darth Maul level? Can we play longer?
Whatifits is used as much as Thatsbecausehe. However the word Thatsbecausehe is usually following a sentence or a cry from another person.
"Dad, Wyatt hit me."
"Thatsbecausehe wouldn't give me a turn with the Ninjago spinner."
"Dad, Wyatt pushed Jackson."
"Thatsbecausehe ate my cookie."
"Dad, Wyatt won't let me sit on the couch."
"Thatsbecausehe won't let me watch what I want to watch and thatsbecausehe wouldn't let me on the couch yesterday and thatsbecause he wouldn't give me a turn with the Ninjago spinner!"
Lauren and I are still trying to figure out where our kids have learned their sense of fairness, especially Wyatt. Thatsnofair is one of his favorite words.
Thatsnofair he gets to stay up later than I do.
Thatsnofair he gets to go to bed before I do.
Thatsnofair he likes his dinner so he gets dessert and I don't
Thatsnofair he always gets to watch his shows and I don't.
Thatsnofair you always go to work.
Thatsnofair he has his a Ninjago spinner and I don't.
Wyatt has recently added a new word to his vocabulary, the word canihave.
Canihave a banana? Canihave breakfast? Canihave a drink? Canihave a snack?
Pointing at the commercials on the TV -CanIhave that? Canihave that? Canihave that? Canihave that? Canihave my own Ninjago spinner?
We are working with him to be able to pronounce the word Canipleasehave.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Happy Father's Day
When I started this blog, Poop and Boogies, I never intended for it to be a Daddy Blog. Actually the term Daddy Blog wasn't even part of the blogging vocabulary back in 2005 (I am not a big fan of the term Daddy Blog because I think it limits a person's perception on what this blog is about or any other blog that gets the two word description like Mommy Blog or Craft Blog or Political Blog). I did intend for this blog to be about my life and my family. Since I am a dad and most of life and time is consumed in an effort to make my kids life better, this blog has become mostly about parenting. So yeah, I guess I am a Daddy Blogger.
Seven years ago, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon this happened. Seven years ago, throughout the day, and in the middle of the night this happened.
My dad used to call me on March 1st and wish me a Happy Father's Day because it "is the anniversary of when you became a dad." Seven years ago Maxfield was born. Seven years ago I became a dad.
To celebrate Max's Birthday we took Max, a few of his friends, and Wyatt to a Rock Climbing Gym. Max and his buddies put on harnesses and helmets and had an hour to climb and jump and flip and learn to rock climb.
Seven years ago, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon this happened. Seven years ago, throughout the day, and in the middle of the night this happened.
My dad used to call me on March 1st and wish me a Happy Father's Day because it "is the anniversary of when you became a dad." Seven years ago Maxfield was born. Seven years ago I became a dad.
To celebrate Max's Birthday we took Max, a few of his friends, and Wyatt to a Rock Climbing Gym. Max and his buddies put on harnesses and helmets and had an hour to climb and jump and flip and learn to rock climb.
As a "Daddy Blogger" I am supposed to write a heart touching post using analogies and metaphors about how watching Max rock climb is kind of like life, letting him go, trusting him, watching him climb and fail only to try again, being worried about him falling and getting hurt, 
using the support rope and holding it too tightly,
making sure he accomplishes his goals and reaches the top.
But I didn't think about any of those things at the Rock Climbing Gym. The truth be told the only thing I was thinking about was,
"Damn, my kids are the cutest rock climbers ever."
I am not a very good Daddy Blogger.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Dental Humor
I am sitting in the dentist's office having a consultation done regarding three teeth that need to be extracted. The dentist is reviewing the options of novacaione versus anesthesia and the comlications that can arise. The dentist flips through my charts and starts checking off boxes on a form.
"Are you allergic to any medications?" he asks.
"Benadryl and some kind of anti inflamatory stuff." I answered.
"Any medical conditions for which you take daily medication?"
"No."
The dentist checked off a bunch of boxes in a row.
"Any problems with Alcohol or drugs?" He asked.
"No." I answered. "How about you?"
The dentist looked over the top of his glasses.
"Excuse me?" He asked like I offended him.
"I just figured you were the one that was going to be cutting into my gums with sharp objects that I should ask you the same question." I smiled trying to let on I was making a joke.
He looked back at the form not acknowledging my joke. He place the tip of his pen onto the form and prepared to write the answer to the next questions
"Who is your emergency contact?" He asked.
I answered hesitantly. I wasn't sure if he was asking because it was an actual question on the form or if he was making a joke. Or was he?
---------------------------------------------
Poop and Boogies turns 6 years old this week. I really do appreciate all the people that stop by here to read the little stories I write. From the bottom of our hearts, my family and I thank you.
"Are you allergic to any medications?" he asks.
"Benadryl and some kind of anti inflamatory stuff." I answered.
"Any medical conditions for which you take daily medication?"
"No."
The dentist checked off a bunch of boxes in a row.
"Any problems with Alcohol or drugs?" He asked.
"No." I answered. "How about you?"
The dentist looked over the top of his glasses.
"Excuse me?" He asked like I offended him.
"I just figured you were the one that was going to be cutting into my gums with sharp objects that I should ask you the same question." I smiled trying to let on I was making a joke.
He looked back at the form not acknowledging my joke. He place the tip of his pen onto the form and prepared to write the answer to the next questions
"Who is your emergency contact?" He asked.
I answered hesitantly. I wasn't sure if he was asking because it was an actual question on the form or if he was making a joke. Or was he?
---------------------------------------------
Poop and Boogies turns 6 years old this week. I really do appreciate all the people that stop by here to read the little stories I write. From the bottom of our hearts, my family and I thank you.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Make Out
There is no such thing as a bad cheese steak. Sure some are waaay better than others but there is no such thing as a bad one. A cheese steak*, to me, is just like making out; sometimes it is a little sloppy and wet; sometimes it is a little dry; sometimes you need to use more tongue; and sometimes it smells like onions but for the most part I am just happy to be getting some. Now that Lauren and I have 3 boys there is not a lot of time to be getting cheese steaks (see another way to compare it to making out). We try to set a good example of eating and cooking right and we leave the fatty take-out to a once in a while occasion.
This past Saturday night was that once in a while occasion.
In the city there is a debate about who has the best cheese steaks, Pat's, Geno's or Jim's. Out in the burbs most places make a decent cheese steak but none ever can compete with the those big three. Lauren found a coupon for Tonelli's and we decided to give it a try. I've gotta tell you it was one of the best cheese steak sandwiches I have had.
Saturday night into Sunday morning, around 2 AM, Lauren woke up and told me she was not feeling well, she felt nauseous. Twenty minutes later she was vomiting. My first thought was "Man I hope she does not have a stomach bug or flu." My second thought was, "I hope she will be okay." My third thought was "Looks like I have go the kids all day. My fourth thought, "Maybe it was something she ate. What did we have different that we normally don't have?" And my fifth and final thought, which I guess I should be ashamed to admit was, "OH NO! Cheese steak. We had Cheese steaks. I hope it was not the cheese steaks. Oh I hope she has a stomach bug. I hope she has a stomach bug. I hope she has a stomach bug."
I need to defend my wish that my wife had a stomach bug.
Did you ever drink too much gin or eat some kind of curry dish, only to get sick later and throw-up? You end up swearing off that brand of gin. Or you refuse to ever eat curry again. It has nothing to do with the food itself , but just the smell of curry brings back the memory of the dry heaves it caused is enough to make you stay away. It can be any kind of food or drink, once you associate it with vomiting you usually, for years, will not touch the stuff. So if Lauren associated the awesome Cheese steaks with her being sick, there was a really good chance that we would, not only never go that place again, but we would never get cheese steaks again. I couldn't have that. These cheese steaks were that awesome and were only minutes away from my house.
Turned out Lauren had a bug. She was in bed all day Sunday. When she was not in bed she was throwing up. It was a bad day.
I did my best to occupy the kids throughout the day getting ready for Valentine's Day parties on Monday. I also did my best to take care of my sick wife. All day I had a nagging thought in the back of my head that there was a chance that I may get the stomach bug too. I kept trying to eat bland things or maybe things that I knew I already did not like just in case I got nauseous. I did not want to have a an episode that would cause me to banish the delicious chopped steak and cheese in a long roll. I had cereal for breakfast, toast for lunch. I made a dinner of plain grilled chicken, asparagus and crackers.
Sunday night as I placed out Valentine's days cards and gifts for my kids and wife I decided to have a snack. We had a bag of Doritos and a bag of plain corn tortilla chips. I am so glad I chose the plain corn chips. At 2 AM I caught the stomach bug. I was thankful for puking tortilla chips. I love Doritos. I was in bed all day Monday. Thankfully Lauren was doing better (it was only a 24 hour bug). It was her turn to take care of me. I couldn't move at all on Valentine's Day. Nothing says "I love you" like the willingness to clean up a person's bag of vomit and bile.
As I was laying in bed in a sleep deprived dehydrated cramp induced delirium I couldn't help but be thankful that I too had a stomach bug. Because then I knew it was not the cheese steaks.
I look forward to another night of Tonelli's cheese staek make-out. I mean take-out.
* When you live in the Philadelphia Pa area you don't call a a cheese steak a "Philly Style Cheese steak. It is just a Cheese steak.
This past Saturday night was that once in a while occasion.
In the city there is a debate about who has the best cheese steaks, Pat's, Geno's or Jim's. Out in the burbs most places make a decent cheese steak but none ever can compete with the those big three. Lauren found a coupon for Tonelli's and we decided to give it a try. I've gotta tell you it was one of the best cheese steak sandwiches I have had.
Saturday night into Sunday morning, around 2 AM, Lauren woke up and told me she was not feeling well, she felt nauseous. Twenty minutes later she was vomiting. My first thought was "Man I hope she does not have a stomach bug or flu." My second thought was, "I hope she will be okay." My third thought was "Looks like I have go the kids all day. My fourth thought, "Maybe it was something she ate. What did we have different that we normally don't have?" And my fifth and final thought, which I guess I should be ashamed to admit was, "OH NO! Cheese steak. We had Cheese steaks. I hope it was not the cheese steaks. Oh I hope she has a stomach bug. I hope she has a stomach bug. I hope she has a stomach bug."
I need to defend my wish that my wife had a stomach bug.
Did you ever drink too much gin or eat some kind of curry dish, only to get sick later and throw-up? You end up swearing off that brand of gin. Or you refuse to ever eat curry again. It has nothing to do with the food itself , but just the smell of curry brings back the memory of the dry heaves it caused is enough to make you stay away. It can be any kind of food or drink, once you associate it with vomiting you usually, for years, will not touch the stuff. So if Lauren associated the awesome Cheese steaks with her being sick, there was a really good chance that we would, not only never go that place again, but we would never get cheese steaks again. I couldn't have that. These cheese steaks were that awesome and were only minutes away from my house.
Turned out Lauren had a bug. She was in bed all day Sunday. When she was not in bed she was throwing up. It was a bad day.
I did my best to occupy the kids throughout the day getting ready for Valentine's Day parties on Monday. I also did my best to take care of my sick wife. All day I had a nagging thought in the back of my head that there was a chance that I may get the stomach bug too. I kept trying to eat bland things or maybe things that I knew I already did not like just in case I got nauseous. I did not want to have a an episode that would cause me to banish the delicious chopped steak and cheese in a long roll. I had cereal for breakfast, toast for lunch. I made a dinner of plain grilled chicken, asparagus and crackers.
Sunday night as I placed out Valentine's days cards and gifts for my kids and wife I decided to have a snack. We had a bag of Doritos and a bag of plain corn tortilla chips. I am so glad I chose the plain corn chips. At 2 AM I caught the stomach bug. I was thankful for puking tortilla chips. I love Doritos. I was in bed all day Monday. Thankfully Lauren was doing better (it was only a 24 hour bug). It was her turn to take care of me. I couldn't move at all on Valentine's Day. Nothing says "I love you" like the willingness to clean up a person's bag of vomit and bile.
As I was laying in bed in a sleep deprived dehydrated cramp induced delirium I couldn't help but be thankful that I too had a stomach bug. Because then I knew it was not the cheese steaks.
I look forward to another night of Tonelli's cheese staek make-out. I mean take-out.
* When you live in the Philadelphia Pa area you don't call a a cheese steak a "Philly Style Cheese steak. It is just a Cheese steak.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Post From The Future
Poop and Boogies 3.0
What's for Breakfast --2/10/2056
I had to drop my rocket jet pack off at the dealer this morning. I have been having problems with the throttle. The other day on my way to work at the hologram theater I nearly lost power and dropped about 100 feet. At first, I thought it may be the bypass line, but the seventh Fetzer valve was sticking so I thought the dealer should take a look. Sure I could have taken the Green Transporter Line to work, but ever since I was nominated for a HAG award and a HolOscar I get recognized. Besides, the dealer is right down the street from the home where my dad is placed, so I decided to pay him a visit.
I stopped at the front desk and spoke with the RN. I asked if I could speak with someone who had a little more authority and knowledge about my dad. Robot Nurses do a great job and all but sometimes dealing with a real person is better. The RN tapped a few times on her I-Stamp and a few minutes later I was talking to Colette, dad's primary human caregiver.
"Wyatt, It is so nice to see you. William, I mean your dad, is doing great. You are just in time for breakfast. Would you like to stay and help me feed your dad?"
"Sure." I said. The whole reason for stopping in was to spend time with him.
"William, I mean your dad, is pretty hungry this morning. He refused to eat his dinner last night."
"Really? What were you having?" I asked.
"Spaghetti." She said. "He used to eat it all the time. Last night he refused. He said the sauce was too spicy. It is the same sauce we use every other time we make pasta which he never had a problem with. It is the same sauce we use for the Pizza we make, which he eats with no problem. I don't know, last night he was just being stubborn."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I told him he would not get any snacks or anything else to eat until breakfast."
We walked down the hallway towards his room when a memory crept out of the corner of my mind. I could see myself sitting at our table in Hatboro. I was 4 years old. Maybe 5. I refused to eat my spaghetti. My mom was so frustrated. I remember her saying something like, "What, so now you don't like spaghetti? I am running out of things to feed you Wyatt. I will not let you be a kid who only eats chicken nuggets and fries." I remember dad getting angry. "Nothing else to eat tonight! Do you understand?" I got up from the table. "You will be having Spaghetti for breakfast tomorrow. Do you understand?" I nodded. I think I heard dad say something to mom about "going all Mommy Dearest with breakfast".
As we got closer to dad's room Colette asked me something but I was not paying attention. I was lost in the memory of the next morning of me screaming as my dad was taking the plastic wrap off my plate of spaghetti from the night before. I still can't stand the smell of microwaved cold spaghetti. I remember dad holding his ground and telling me I had to eat the pasta before I would get anything else like fruit or yogurt. I also recall that as soon as I started crying he had to go to work and left mom to do the dirty work.
"Wyatt? Wyatt?" Colette's voice pulled me back to the present.
"I'm sorry." I said as I shook off the memory.
"That's okay. I know sometimes visiting can be difficult. I asked what would you like to feed your father this morning? We have pancakes, waffles, oatmeal or cold cereal." She said.
I thought a moment.
"Do you have any spaghetti left over from last night?" I asked.
Colette was hesitant. "Uh, yes." she said.
"Then that's what he will have." I said.
I really, really enjoyed my breakfast with my dad that morning.
Posted By Wyatt- at 2/10/2056 at 9:17 AM
This post was inspired by my brother the LawnWhisperer. When I told him about feeding Wyatt spaghetti for breakfast he said that when I am old and I need my kids to take care of me they will remember those moments.
What's for Breakfast --2/10/2056
I had to drop my rocket jet pack off at the dealer this morning. I have been having problems with the throttle. The other day on my way to work at the hologram theater I nearly lost power and dropped about 100 feet. At first, I thought it may be the bypass line, but the seventh Fetzer valve was sticking so I thought the dealer should take a look. Sure I could have taken the Green Transporter Line to work, but ever since I was nominated for a HAG award and a HolOscar I get recognized. Besides, the dealer is right down the street from the home where my dad is placed, so I decided to pay him a visit.
I stopped at the front desk and spoke with the RN. I asked if I could speak with someone who had a little more authority and knowledge about my dad. Robot Nurses do a great job and all but sometimes dealing with a real person is better. The RN tapped a few times on her I-Stamp and a few minutes later I was talking to Colette, dad's primary human caregiver.
"Wyatt, It is so nice to see you. William, I mean your dad, is doing great. You are just in time for breakfast. Would you like to stay and help me feed your dad?"
"Sure." I said. The whole reason for stopping in was to spend time with him.
"William, I mean your dad, is pretty hungry this morning. He refused to eat his dinner last night."
"Really? What were you having?" I asked.
"Spaghetti." She said. "He used to eat it all the time. Last night he refused. He said the sauce was too spicy. It is the same sauce we use every other time we make pasta which he never had a problem with. It is the same sauce we use for the Pizza we make, which he eats with no problem. I don't know, last night he was just being stubborn."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I told him he would not get any snacks or anything else to eat until breakfast."
We walked down the hallway towards his room when a memory crept out of the corner of my mind. I could see myself sitting at our table in Hatboro. I was 4 years old. Maybe 5. I refused to eat my spaghetti. My mom was so frustrated. I remember her saying something like, "What, so now you don't like spaghetti? I am running out of things to feed you Wyatt. I will not let you be a kid who only eats chicken nuggets and fries." I remember dad getting angry. "Nothing else to eat tonight! Do you understand?" I got up from the table. "You will be having Spaghetti for breakfast tomorrow. Do you understand?" I nodded. I think I heard dad say something to mom about "going all Mommy Dearest with breakfast".
As we got closer to dad's room Colette asked me something but I was not paying attention. I was lost in the memory of the next morning of me screaming as my dad was taking the plastic wrap off my plate of spaghetti from the night before. I still can't stand the smell of microwaved cold spaghetti. I remember dad holding his ground and telling me I had to eat the pasta before I would get anything else like fruit or yogurt. I also recall that as soon as I started crying he had to go to work and left mom to do the dirty work.
"Wyatt? Wyatt?" Colette's voice pulled me back to the present.
"I'm sorry." I said as I shook off the memory.
"That's okay. I know sometimes visiting can be difficult. I asked what would you like to feed your father this morning? We have pancakes, waffles, oatmeal or cold cereal." She said.
I thought a moment.
"Do you have any spaghetti left over from last night?" I asked.
Colette was hesitant. "Uh, yes." she said.
"Then that's what he will have." I said.
I really, really enjoyed my breakfast with my dad that morning.
Posted By Wyatt- at 2/10/2056 at 9:17 AM
This post was inspired by my brother the LawnWhisperer. When I told him about feeding Wyatt spaghetti for breakfast he said that when I am old and I need my kids to take care of me they will remember those moments.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
I've known too many Spaniels
One of the greatest fights ever was the duel between the man in black and Inigo Montoya at the top of the Cliff's of Insanity. They used Bonetti's defense, which was appropriate considering the rocky terrain. Thibault could cancel out the Capa Ferro attack. The opponent used his Agripa. It was a mighty duel. They both used their best moves and artistry in the sword fight. They dodged and parried and thrust and dodged some more. They both dueled left handed, a deception move used until they needed to switch to their right and stronger hand, which changed the direction of the battle twice.
The conversation that takes place right before the fight, as Inigo who is just waiting around to kill the man in black meanwhile assisting him is a wonderful display of honesty and mutual respect. The dialog during the battle is the same, each dueler complimenting the other while attacking with blades.
The man in black bested the Spaniard. Why? He was better. He wore down his opponent. He knew when to strike and when to sit back.
Lauren and the kids have bested me. They wore me down. They knew when to strike and when to sit back. I waited at the top of the Cliff's of Insanity to shoot down their requests to get a new dog. Our conversations were honest and showed mutual respect.
"I promise to take her for walks." Max would say smiling his semi-toothed smile.
I used Bonetti's defense. No, was my answer.
"I will feed the dog." Wyatt would say and bat his long brown eyelashes.
I have studdied my Agrippa. No.
Lauren called me last week. She was at the SPCA. She wanted to tell me about Lilly, the Spaniel mix, she had just found and fell in love with.
"No." I said.
"Why?"
"I have known too many Spaniels."
Lauren sent me a picture, which was equivalent to admitting she was not left handed.
We picked her up on Saturday. This is Lily.
Lauren and I want to change her name. Lily is one of my favorite names. We know a few Lilys. And each of them is beautiful and radiant. But they are people. Lily the dog is a beaut and radiant and full of life. But she is a dog. I don't want to, I don't know, disrespect or confuse the two. We are thinking of name for our new dog.
Any suggestions?
The conversation that takes place right before the fight, as Inigo who is just waiting around to kill the man in black meanwhile assisting him is a wonderful display of honesty and mutual respect. The dialog during the battle is the same, each dueler complimenting the other while attacking with blades.
The man in black bested the Spaniard. Why? He was better. He wore down his opponent. He knew when to strike and when to sit back.
Lauren and the kids have bested me. They wore me down. They knew when to strike and when to sit back. I waited at the top of the Cliff's of Insanity to shoot down their requests to get a new dog. Our conversations were honest and showed mutual respect.
"I promise to take her for walks." Max would say smiling his semi-toothed smile.
I used Bonetti's defense. No, was my answer.
"I will feed the dog." Wyatt would say and bat his long brown eyelashes.
I have studdied my Agrippa. No.
Lauren called me last week. She was at the SPCA. She wanted to tell me about Lilly, the Spaniel mix, she had just found and fell in love with.
"No." I said.
"Why?"
"I have known too many Spaniels."
Lauren sent me a picture, which was equivalent to admitting she was not left handed.
We picked her up on Saturday. This is Lily.
Lauren and I want to change her name. Lily is one of my favorite names. We know a few Lilys. And each of them is beautiful and radiant. But they are people. Lily the dog is a beaut and radiant and full of life. But she is a dog. I don't want to, I don't know, disrespect or confuse the two. We are thinking of name for our new dog.
Any suggestions?
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Encyclopedia
"Dad, can you show me how to Google something?" Maxfield, my 6 year old, asked.
I was curious about his request. The only interest he shows in the computer is when a game is involved. And he mentioned Google by name.
"Sure. What do you want to look up?"
"Billy Inschool* said that applesauce is a fruit. I told him it wasn't because a fruit is a fruit and applesauce is made from apples which is a fruit but that apple sauce is not a fruit because it does not grow that way."
*Tangent-I always find it funny that to a kid, another kid's last name is the same as where the kid knows the other kid from. Inschool is not Billy's last name and if it was he would have many siblings. There is Marissa Inschool, Kyle Inschool, Zach Inschool, Nicky Inschool etc. These are the same kids with the same last name as Inmyclass. Billy Inmyclass, Marissa Inmyclass, Zach Inmyclass. Billy also has the last name Fromteeball and Fromaroundtheblock, it all depends on when and where the point of reference to the conversation is. *End Tangent.
"And you want to look up, on Google, if applesauce is a fruit?"
"Yes."
I explained to Max, to the best of my knowledge, how the Internet works and what Google does as a search engine. I showed him how to get to Google and where he should type his key words. I told him the Internet was great for looking up information. I told him how when I was younger we need to look up information in books like encyclopedias. I also told him he is to never look up anything without an adult around.
"Why?" He asked?
"Well sometimes the answers to your questions may be something that is totally wrong for you. Do you know how I don't want you to watch certain movies or play certain games? Well it is kind of the same thing. Mommy or Daddy should be around to make sure you are learning what you need to learn from your questions."
"Okay."
"Looking up whether applesauce is a fruit should be okay for you to do." I said. "Now what should you type?"
"Is applesauce a fruit?" He said.
"Give it try."
Max started typing in the Google search bar. He typed a letter I and then the letter S. Google started to do the auto fill thing it does when it thinks it knows your search. Max started to read the Google questions suggestions.
I was curious about his request. The only interest he shows in the computer is when a game is involved. And he mentioned Google by name.
"Sure. What do you want to look up?"
"Billy Inschool* said that applesauce is a fruit. I told him it wasn't because a fruit is a fruit and applesauce is made from apples which is a fruit but that apple sauce is not a fruit because it does not grow that way."
*Tangent-I always find it funny that to a kid, another kid's last name is the same as where the kid knows the other kid from. Inschool is not Billy's last name and if it was he would have many siblings. There is Marissa Inschool, Kyle Inschool, Zach Inschool, Nicky Inschool etc. These are the same kids with the same last name as Inmyclass. Billy Inmyclass, Marissa Inmyclass, Zach Inmyclass. Billy also has the last name Fromteeball and Fromaroundtheblock, it all depends on when and where the point of reference to the conversation is. *End Tangent.
"And you want to look up, on Google, if applesauce is a fruit?"
"Yes."
I explained to Max, to the best of my knowledge, how the Internet works and what Google does as a search engine. I showed him how to get to Google and where he should type his key words. I told him the Internet was great for looking up information. I told him how when I was younger we need to look up information in books like encyclopedias. I also told him he is to never look up anything without an adult around.
"Why?" He asked?
"Well sometimes the answers to your questions may be something that is totally wrong for you. Do you know how I don't want you to watch certain movies or play certain games? Well it is kind of the same thing. Mommy or Daddy should be around to make sure you are learning what you need to learn from your questions."
"Okay."
"Looking up whether applesauce is a fruit should be okay for you to do." I said. "Now what should you type?"
"Is applesauce a fruit?" He said.
"Give it try."
Max started typing in the Google search bar. He typed a letter I and then the letter S. Google started to do the auto fill thing it does when it thinks it knows your search. Max started to read the Google questions suggestions.
I could see his innocent brain start to process the first Google auto fill response. He looked at me and then back to the screen. He looked at me again and then back to the screen. I quickly reached over top of his arms and typed the word apple to change the Google auto fill response to something more apple related. I quickly changed the topic to apple and sauces trying to distract him from his thoughts about Santa.
Seriously Google? The first response to the word IS in your searches is about whether Santa is real? Now I have no idea if that was what Maxfield was reading. I hope he was trying to figure out if Lady Gaga is a man. I know I would have an easier time talking to my kid about Vin Diesel's sexuality then I would explaining the existence of Santa.
Does anyone know if there is a kid friendly version of Google? Or does anyone know someone who sells Encyclopedias?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
History
30 years from now someone is going o look on the Internet, in their brain, to see who was the number 1 best selling author of this week of 2011. They will punch in their search terms into the search engine Poop and Google and find that Brad Meltzer's book, The Inner Circle, will be listed # 1 on the New York Times best sellers list for the weeks of Jan 30th 2011.
That person doing the search will be looking for history. History is what Brad's new book is all about. The history of President George Washington's secret spy ring which was called the Culper Ring. That person doing the search 30 years from now will discover that President Obama's Culper Ring delayed President Obama in his giving the State of the Union Address until about 9:15 ish because Brad Meltzer was signing books at the Philadelphia Free Public Library. Obama's people at that time knew it was due to the fact that William from Poop and Boogies gave The inner Circle a great review just a week or so earlier which would catapult Brad Meltzer's book to hit #1 on the New York Times best sellers list that week that he should delay his speech just a few minutes. Obama wanted me to hear his speech so that maybe Poop and Boogies would write a review about the State of the Union address.
---------------------------------------------------------
I went to the Philadelphia Library last night to stalk Brad Meltzer. He spoke for almost an hour about the book, some of his comic book writings and his show Decoded. Decoded is a show about decoding secret societies and government secrets. Brad is a very funny speaker. The event felt like a comedy routine about nerdy stuff like comic books and secret societies. I even had a chance to talk to Brad and he told me he enjoys my blog which is always nice to hear.
When I got home my wife asked me if I had a good time. I told her I had a blast. Not only was Brad funny but I got to people watch as well.
I said, "You know when a guy who writes comics, writes novels about Masons and secret codes and he has a show about decoding possible hidden societies in the government, makes an appearance, the freaks are going to come out of the wood work. And they did."
Lauren replied, "You know you're one of them. And I am sure those people are saying the same thing about you."
That person doing the search will be looking for history. History is what Brad's new book is all about. The history of President George Washington's secret spy ring which was called the Culper Ring. That person doing the search 30 years from now will discover that President Obama's Culper Ring delayed President Obama in his giving the State of the Union Address until about 9:15 ish because Brad Meltzer was signing books at the Philadelphia Free Public Library. Obama's people at that time knew it was due to the fact that William from Poop and Boogies gave The inner Circle a great review just a week or so earlier which would catapult Brad Meltzer's book to hit #1 on the New York Times best sellers list that week that he should delay his speech just a few minutes. Obama wanted me to hear his speech so that maybe Poop and Boogies would write a review about the State of the Union address.
---------------------------------------------------------
I went to the Philadelphia Library last night to stalk Brad Meltzer. He spoke for almost an hour about the book, some of his comic book writings and his show Decoded. Decoded is a show about decoding secret societies and government secrets. Brad is a very funny speaker. The event felt like a comedy routine about nerdy stuff like comic books and secret societies. I even had a chance to talk to Brad and he told me he enjoys my blog which is always nice to hear.
When I got home my wife asked me if I had a good time. I told her I had a blast. Not only was Brad funny but I got to people watch as well.
I said, "You know when a guy who writes comics, writes novels about Masons and secret codes and he has a show about decoding possible hidden societies in the government, makes an appearance, the freaks are going to come out of the wood work. And they did."
Lauren replied, "You know you're one of them. And I am sure those people are saying the same thing about you."
Monday, January 24, 2011
Interpretation
"Hi. I was going to use the left over turkey breast to make a pot pie for dinner. But I still need something to feed the kids since they won't touch pot pie. Can you pick up a pizza on the way home?"
"Sure."
"Great. I am going to go to the gym when you get home. You can feed the kids and then we can eat together when I get back."
"Okay. See you then."
Would you interpret this that there will be pot pie when you get home? What if pot pie is like your favorite meal ever? Wouldn't you get home and expect there to be a freshly baked turkey pot pie?
"Sure."
"Great. I am going to go to the gym when you get home. You can feed the kids and then we can eat together when I get back."
"Okay. See you then."
Would you interpret this that there will be pot pie when you get home? What if pot pie is like your favorite meal ever? Wouldn't you get home and expect there to be a freshly baked turkey pot pie?
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Grounded
I lifted my head off the floor of the car. I could not remember how I ended up laying on the floor in the back seat. My head was buzzing and my ears were muffled. No. My head was muffled and my ears were buzzing. I could hear crying and yelling. I smelled steaming antifreeze. I looked out the backseat window and saw my brother John limping around a driveway. He was holding his elbow. Whose driveway was that?(1.) Where were we?
I followed the sound of the crying. My sister was sitting on the curb. There was a crowd of people around her. She was leaning over, her head between her knees. She was spitting blood. She was spitting out teeth. Oh right. My sister was taking me, John and Bob out for ice cream. She wanted to drive by some guy’s house first. We made a u-turn, were in a car accident. Wait. Bob was with us. Where is Bob? I don’t see him. Did he die? (2.) He must have died if I can’t see him. If Bob is dead we are going to get grounded.
I lifted my head off the dark blue vinyl seats of the car. I could not remember how I ended up laying down in the back seat of a police car. I reached my hand up to my forehead to see if I could discover the source of the pain I was feeling. I felt bits of broken glass littering my hair. An officer asked me to look into his flashlight. I did. There was no light. He smacked the side of the flashlight, still no light. He borrowed another officer’s flashlight. That also did not work. They both needed batteries. One of the officers took out a first aid kit. He blew dust off the top, cleared cobwebs away from the latches. As he fumbled to open it I looked out the window through the metal cage separating the front and back seats. I saw the car we were in smashed against a telephone pole. I still could not see Bob. I could still see John and I could still see my sister. There was a hole in her chin. (3.) She was still spitting blood and teeth. A paramedic was with her. The officer told me not to look at her. I wonder if they are arresting me. If they do I am going to get grounded. The flashing red lights of the approaching ambulance blinded me. I closed my eyes.
I lifted my head off the tan vinyl bench-seat in the back of the ambulance. I could not move my arms or legs. They were encased in inflatable casts. My sister was laying down in the gurney with bloody towels covering her face. Where was John, in another ambulance? Maybe. The medic asked me questions about my sister since she could not speak. What was her name? Sharon. How old was she? 17. What was her date of birth? I don’t know. You don’t know your sisters birthday? No. Why not? I just don’t. How old are you? 12. When is your date of birth? March 9th. March 9th of what year? Not mine, hers. Her birthday is March 9th. Of what year? I don’t know. She is 17. Do the math. Try to stay awake you may have a concussion? I want to take a nap now. We think you may be in shock. Please don’t shock me.
I opened my eyes when the cold wind hit me in the face. They were wheeling me into the hospital. I could taste blood in my mouth. My mom stood out front of the ER doors. She was crying but smiling. How did she beat us to the hospital? Why was she crying? (4.) I think we may be in trouble. I hope we don’t get grounded. I tell the doctor my chest hurts and he tries to unzip my Oakland Raiders sweatshirt but the zipper is broken. He cuts my favorite sweatshirt off with a large pair of scissors. I am definitely going to get grounded. (5.) Using a pair of tweezers a nurse picks specks of glass out of my scalp. She washes my hair and I watch white suds turned pink by blood wash down the drain. I start to cry. She tells me everyone is okay.
That night my mom wakes me every two hours, per the doctor’s instructions, to ask me questions to test my mental state. Some questions are easy like my name and birthday. Some questions are more difficult. What is your grandmother’s first name? I don’t know. I don’t call her by her first name. What is the phone number of 125 Primrose? It takes me a minute but I get it. My mom then asks me to tell her how old she is. I am so going to get grounded.
(1.) John was sitting in the front passenger seat. His elbow went through the glove box. He had to tear it out of the dash board to get out of the car to go get help. He knocked on the door of the first house he came to. “We need help!” he said to old man who answered the door. The old man replied, “I am sorry I cannot help you. I am blind.” John went to the next house for help. John ended up with 60 plus stitches in his elbow.
(2.) Bob was sitting in the back passenger side. He saw we were about to crash and braced for impact. He sprained both his ankles and I think he had stress fractures in both shins. When he got out of the car with John, he could not walk and fell to the ground. He was lying below my line of vision.
(3.) My sister’s chin hit the steering wheel, her head hit the windshield. She opened her face from below her lip all the way through to her tongue. I think she lost all of her bottom teeth. She had to have numerous operations and plastic surgery.
(4.) We only lived a mile from the ER. Someone called my mom to tell her we were on the way. She beat us there and waited by the entrance for the ambulances to arrive. When they pulled Bob out of the ambulance on the gurney the wind caught the blanket that was on top of Bob and it blew up and covered his face. My mom only saw them wheeling in a covered body and thought that Bob was dead. She started to cry. Bob then said hello from under the blanket. I was wheeled in right after that.
(5.) I was sitting in the back driver side. When we made impact my chest smashed into the back of her seat and I flew over my sister’s head I hit the windshield. I had bruised ribs, minors cuts in my mouth and on my head and I had a concussion. The car accident happened 28 years ago this week.
I followed the sound of the crying. My sister was sitting on the curb. There was a crowd of people around her. She was leaning over, her head between her knees. She was spitting blood. She was spitting out teeth. Oh right. My sister was taking me, John and Bob out for ice cream. She wanted to drive by some guy’s house first. We made a u-turn, were in a car accident. Wait. Bob was with us. Where is Bob? I don’t see him. Did he die? (2.) He must have died if I can’t see him. If Bob is dead we are going to get grounded.
I lifted my head off the dark blue vinyl seats of the car. I could not remember how I ended up laying down in the back seat of a police car. I reached my hand up to my forehead to see if I could discover the source of the pain I was feeling. I felt bits of broken glass littering my hair. An officer asked me to look into his flashlight. I did. There was no light. He smacked the side of the flashlight, still no light. He borrowed another officer’s flashlight. That also did not work. They both needed batteries. One of the officers took out a first aid kit. He blew dust off the top, cleared cobwebs away from the latches. As he fumbled to open it I looked out the window through the metal cage separating the front and back seats. I saw the car we were in smashed against a telephone pole. I still could not see Bob. I could still see John and I could still see my sister. There was a hole in her chin. (3.) She was still spitting blood and teeth. A paramedic was with her. The officer told me not to look at her. I wonder if they are arresting me. If they do I am going to get grounded. The flashing red lights of the approaching ambulance blinded me. I closed my eyes.
I lifted my head off the tan vinyl bench-seat in the back of the ambulance. I could not move my arms or legs. They were encased in inflatable casts. My sister was laying down in the gurney with bloody towels covering her face. Where was John, in another ambulance? Maybe. The medic asked me questions about my sister since she could not speak. What was her name? Sharon. How old was she? 17. What was her date of birth? I don’t know. You don’t know your sisters birthday? No. Why not? I just don’t. How old are you? 12. When is your date of birth? March 9th. March 9th of what year? Not mine, hers. Her birthday is March 9th. Of what year? I don’t know. She is 17. Do the math. Try to stay awake you may have a concussion? I want to take a nap now. We think you may be in shock. Please don’t shock me.
I opened my eyes when the cold wind hit me in the face. They were wheeling me into the hospital. I could taste blood in my mouth. My mom stood out front of the ER doors. She was crying but smiling. How did she beat us to the hospital? Why was she crying? (4.) I think we may be in trouble. I hope we don’t get grounded. I tell the doctor my chest hurts and he tries to unzip my Oakland Raiders sweatshirt but the zipper is broken. He cuts my favorite sweatshirt off with a large pair of scissors. I am definitely going to get grounded. (5.) Using a pair of tweezers a nurse picks specks of glass out of my scalp. She washes my hair and I watch white suds turned pink by blood wash down the drain. I start to cry. She tells me everyone is okay.
That night my mom wakes me every two hours, per the doctor’s instructions, to ask me questions to test my mental state. Some questions are easy like my name and birthday. Some questions are more difficult. What is your grandmother’s first name? I don’t know. I don’t call her by her first name. What is the phone number of 125 Primrose? It takes me a minute but I get it. My mom then asks me to tell her how old she is. I am so going to get grounded.
(1.) John was sitting in the front passenger seat. His elbow went through the glove box. He had to tear it out of the dash board to get out of the car to go get help. He knocked on the door of the first house he came to. “We need help!” he said to old man who answered the door. The old man replied, “I am sorry I cannot help you. I am blind.” John went to the next house for help. John ended up with 60 plus stitches in his elbow.
(2.) Bob was sitting in the back passenger side. He saw we were about to crash and braced for impact. He sprained both his ankles and I think he had stress fractures in both shins. When he got out of the car with John, he could not walk and fell to the ground. He was lying below my line of vision.
(3.) My sister’s chin hit the steering wheel, her head hit the windshield. She opened her face from below her lip all the way through to her tongue. I think she lost all of her bottom teeth. She had to have numerous operations and plastic surgery.
(4.) We only lived a mile from the ER. Someone called my mom to tell her we were on the way. She beat us there and waited by the entrance for the ambulances to arrive. When they pulled Bob out of the ambulance on the gurney the wind caught the blanket that was on top of Bob and it blew up and covered his face. My mom only saw them wheeling in a covered body and thought that Bob was dead. She started to cry. Bob then said hello from under the blanket. I was wheeled in right after that.
(5.) I was sitting in the back driver side. When we made impact my chest smashed into the back of her seat and I flew over my sister’s head I hit the windshield. I had bruised ribs, minors cuts in my mouth and on my head and I had a concussion. The car accident happened 28 years ago this week.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Frost Bits
"Touch it." I said.
"I am not touching that." Lauren said. She knows my tricks and she thought I was trying to, well, get her to touch it. The last time she fell for this trick we ended up with our third boy. And now, after having three boys there is not much time or desire to be touching anything.
"Seriously Lauren, I am not trying any games I need you to touch it. I think it is has frostbite."
Lauren looked down. I was stretching my waistband out so she could get a better look.
"Oh my God!" She said startled. "It is bright red. Are you okay?"
I winced. I was not okay. I was in serious pain. I looked down. I was shocked of how much of it was shrinking up into my belly. Everything they say about shrinkage is true. I reached my hand down and tried to make sure everything was intact. As soon as my fingers touched the tip, the fire helmet, I could feel it all burn. My lower abdomen ached, as did my groin.
"What happened?" Lauren asked.
"I think my pecker is frozen."
I explained how I decided to go for a long run, after all it was early Saturday morning and the sun was coming up. Part of the Half-marathon training program I am trying is to do one long run a week. This was my first true long run. I always wear spandex-moisture wicking pants under a loose fitting, breathable, mesh sweatpants. The rest of my running outfit is various layers depending on the temperature. It was in the low to mid twenties so I bundled up on top wearing new tight fitting vest and running shirts as opposed to the multi-layers of long t-shirts I usually wear.
When I run, I just run away from my house until I feel the need to turn around and head home. I set out that morning intending to do a 6 to 7 mile run. Somewhere around mile 3 and a half, 30 minutes into my run, I could feel my thighs start to numb and a pain throb in my groin. I started heading home, going back the 3 or so miles. I was running into the wind. A cold cold wind.
Somewhere around mile 5 I could tell I was in trouble. Things started to burn and then go numb. I only had two more miles to go. I figured I could just tough it out. The rest of my body was warm and I worked up a really good sweat. Normally when I run my X-tra large T-shirts and other layers would kind of cover the area below my waist. I was not wearing X-tra large shirts. The moisture wicking spandex was taking the moisture away from my body to be frozen by the cold wind blowing through the mesh work-out pants I was wearing. I was freeze drying my bits. And quite frankly after I inspected the area, it, they, had the appearance of freeze dried fruit. The icy feeling put the "icle" in the, you know, "test".
"I gotta go take a shower." I said to Lauren and I hobbled up the steps.
I took off my pants and was amazed and slightly horrified purplish-red color of my upper thighs. From my waist line to my knees was the color of an overcooked ham. Did you ever spend a few hours in the snow making snowmen and snow balls (pun totally intended) and once you go inside your hands start to burn from the temperature change? That is how the shower felt. It burned.
I waited in the hot water for every thing to descend from their un-descended positions. I waited for the red color to soften to a dull pink. Eventually the burning stopped but I could tell there was a slight lack of sensation. There was also a steady ache from the inside of the, well, just the inside of it all.
I have a pain medication that I take on an as needed basis for herniated disks in my neck. Part of the medication has an anti anxiety element to it. When my herniated disks flare up some of the symptoms are similar to that of having a heart attack. The anti-anxiety meds help relieve the panic stricken, chest tightness stress I may feel during the flare up. I did a quick Google search on Frost Bite and after looking at a few pictures of blackened gangrene-semi amputated digits I decided that I should take one of my pain pills.
By the end of the day, when the effects of the medicine wore off, everything seemed to be fine. Later that night Lauren asked me how I felt. She joked that she was going to sew me a fleece or flannel codpiece.
"It seems to be fine." I said. "It stills aches a bit, but otherwise I think it is okay."
"That's good." She said.
"Although maybe we should make sure it is in entirely in working order." I smiled raising my eyebrows.
"Oh. And how should you do that?" She said rolling her eyes.
"Well I have an idea."
She did not fall for any of my tricks.
The next day I asked Lauren if she thought I should blog about my fozen bits.
"Why would you even hesitate? Of course you should." Was her reply.
"I am not touching that." Lauren said. She knows my tricks and she thought I was trying to, well, get her to touch it. The last time she fell for this trick we ended up with our third boy. And now, after having three boys there is not much time or desire to be touching anything.
"Seriously Lauren, I am not trying any games I need you to touch it. I think it is has frostbite."
Lauren looked down. I was stretching my waistband out so she could get a better look.
"Oh my God!" She said startled. "It is bright red. Are you okay?"
I winced. I was not okay. I was in serious pain. I looked down. I was shocked of how much of it was shrinking up into my belly. Everything they say about shrinkage is true. I reached my hand down and tried to make sure everything was intact. As soon as my fingers touched the tip, the fire helmet, I could feel it all burn. My lower abdomen ached, as did my groin.
"What happened?" Lauren asked.
"I think my pecker is frozen."
I explained how I decided to go for a long run, after all it was early Saturday morning and the sun was coming up. Part of the Half-marathon training program I am trying is to do one long run a week. This was my first true long run. I always wear spandex-moisture wicking pants under a loose fitting, breathable, mesh sweatpants. The rest of my running outfit is various layers depending on the temperature. It was in the low to mid twenties so I bundled up on top wearing new tight fitting vest and running shirts as opposed to the multi-layers of long t-shirts I usually wear.
When I run, I just run away from my house until I feel the need to turn around and head home. I set out that morning intending to do a 6 to 7 mile run. Somewhere around mile 3 and a half, 30 minutes into my run, I could feel my thighs start to numb and a pain throb in my groin. I started heading home, going back the 3 or so miles. I was running into the wind. A cold cold wind.
Somewhere around mile 5 I could tell I was in trouble. Things started to burn and then go numb. I only had two more miles to go. I figured I could just tough it out. The rest of my body was warm and I worked up a really good sweat. Normally when I run my X-tra large T-shirts and other layers would kind of cover the area below my waist. I was not wearing X-tra large shirts. The moisture wicking spandex was taking the moisture away from my body to be frozen by the cold wind blowing through the mesh work-out pants I was wearing. I was freeze drying my bits. And quite frankly after I inspected the area, it, they, had the appearance of freeze dried fruit. The icy feeling put the "icle" in the, you know, "test".
"I gotta go take a shower." I said to Lauren and I hobbled up the steps.
I took off my pants and was amazed and slightly horrified purplish-red color of my upper thighs. From my waist line to my knees was the color of an overcooked ham. Did you ever spend a few hours in the snow making snowmen and snow balls (pun totally intended) and once you go inside your hands start to burn from the temperature change? That is how the shower felt. It burned.
I waited in the hot water for every thing to descend from their un-descended positions. I waited for the red color to soften to a dull pink. Eventually the burning stopped but I could tell there was a slight lack of sensation. There was also a steady ache from the inside of the, well, just the inside of it all.
I have a pain medication that I take on an as needed basis for herniated disks in my neck. Part of the medication has an anti anxiety element to it. When my herniated disks flare up some of the symptoms are similar to that of having a heart attack. The anti-anxiety meds help relieve the panic stricken, chest tightness stress I may feel during the flare up. I did a quick Google search on Frost Bite and after looking at a few pictures of blackened gangrene-semi amputated digits I decided that I should take one of my pain pills.
By the end of the day, when the effects of the medicine wore off, everything seemed to be fine. Later that night Lauren asked me how I felt. She joked that she was going to sew me a fleece or flannel codpiece.
"It seems to be fine." I said. "It stills aches a bit, but otherwise I think it is okay."
"That's good." She said.
"Although maybe we should make sure it is in entirely in working order." I smiled raising my eyebrows.
"Oh. And how should you do that?" She said rolling her eyes.
"Well I have an idea."
She did not fall for any of my tricks.
The next day I asked Lauren if she thought I should blog about my fozen bits.
"Why would you even hesitate? Of course you should." Was her reply.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Hopeful Forecast
For the past two years I have written a post at the beginning of the year listing all the things I wanted to write about that upcoming year. I treated the posts as preview/teaser as well as a hopeful forecast or wishes. I had no idea at the time when I wrote those posts that some of those wishes or positive thoughts would actually come true, like losing 20 lbs, or going to Blogher. Now I also know and understand that some of the predictions did not come to fruition (like the Bigfoot sighting or appearing on SNL) but I like the vibe and outcome of my previous “looking ahead” posts.
My hopeful forecast for Poop and Boogies for the year 2011 should include posts and stories about, making an appearance on SNL, winning the lottery, seeing Bigfoot, winning a free trip for the whole family to Disney World, getting a new dog and taking the kids to New York. I hope in 2011 I will be able to write posts about the time I was in a car accident with my sister, how Max’s Little League team was the best team in the division, how I was a substitute Sunday school teacher, Wyatt starting kindergarten, Lauren selling her paintings and getting a gallery appearance and maybe a post or two about Jackson’s ability to make me laugh.
I want to write about Max’s piano lessons, how I lost another 10 maybe 15 pounds, Wyatt learning to ride a bike, Jackson at the beach, meeting one or two of the Phillies, going to some of the Phillies game, hell even how the Phillies, don’t cock it up this year and win the world series in 2011. I hope Poop and Boogies will include stories about some of my nightclub adventures, working with advertisers on the website, my tattoo, taking my wife away for a weekend (without the kids), making more revenue form a hobby I really enjoy, how I ran three 5k races and a half Marathon, more theater stories, my mid-life crisis, a post or two about publishing a book, or a post or two about publishing a children’s book, a post about meeting some of my blogging friends or even just making new friends.
I hope to post pictures of household renovations that I have done (or more likely that Lauren has done), I hope to do a few more contests and give-aways and maybe get a long term sponsor.
I hope I can write about my family being happy and full of joy.
I hope 2011 brings me more readers to this site. And that those new readers as well as the people who have been coming here for years will enjoy this site and stories as much as I do in creating it.
According to Chris at Rude Cactus, today is the official-unofficial blogging De-lurking day, please leave a comment and let me know what you would like to see from Poop and Boogies this year.
My hopeful forecast for Poop and Boogies for the year 2011 should include posts and stories about, making an appearance on SNL, winning the lottery, seeing Bigfoot, winning a free trip for the whole family to Disney World, getting a new dog and taking the kids to New York. I hope in 2011 I will be able to write posts about the time I was in a car accident with my sister, how Max’s Little League team was the best team in the division, how I was a substitute Sunday school teacher, Wyatt starting kindergarten, Lauren selling her paintings and getting a gallery appearance and maybe a post or two about Jackson’s ability to make me laugh.
I want to write about Max’s piano lessons, how I lost another 10 maybe 15 pounds, Wyatt learning to ride a bike, Jackson at the beach, meeting one or two of the Phillies, going to some of the Phillies game, hell even how the Phillies, don’t cock it up this year and win the world series in 2011. I hope Poop and Boogies will include stories about some of my nightclub adventures, working with advertisers on the website, my tattoo, taking my wife away for a weekend (without the kids), making more revenue form a hobby I really enjoy, how I ran three 5k races and a half Marathon, more theater stories, my mid-life crisis, a post or two about publishing a book, or a post or two about publishing a children’s book, a post about meeting some of my blogging friends or even just making new friends.
I hope to post pictures of household renovations that I have done (or more likely that Lauren has done), I hope to do a few more contests and give-aways and maybe get a long term sponsor.
I hope I can write about my family being happy and full of joy.
I hope 2011 brings me more readers to this site. And that those new readers as well as the people who have been coming here for years will enjoy this site and stories as much as I do in creating it.
According to Chris at Rude Cactus, today is the official-unofficial blogging De-lurking day, please leave a comment and let me know what you would like to see from Poop and Boogies this year.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monsters
My wife is pretty creative, crafty, artsy and handy. I thinks she finds calm and a bit of peace in creating works of art out of the chaos that is living with me and three boys. Every now and then she needs some peace and maybe some quiet.
A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Miyagi, my friend and Max's Godfather, took the boys bowling and left his daughter Ruby with Lauren so they could have girl time. I think Lauren was a little worried about what she was going to do with a little girl around. She was excited when Ruby wanted to make a monster shirt. Lauren knows a lot about monsters.
Ruby drew a picture of the monster that she wanted. Lauren and her set about recreating the drawing out of fabric.
Ruby was delighted with the outcome and I think Lauren enjoyed the time they had together.
I think I know where she gets some of her inspiration. She has to take partial credit for creating the little monsters that her boys are.
A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Miyagi, my friend and Max's Godfather, took the boys bowling and left his daughter Ruby with Lauren so they could have girl time. I think Lauren was a little worried about what she was going to do with a little girl around. She was excited when Ruby wanted to make a monster shirt. Lauren knows a lot about monsters.
Ruby drew a picture of the monster that she wanted. Lauren and her set about recreating the drawing out of fabric.
Ruby was delighted with the outcome and I think Lauren enjoyed the time they had together. Through the hectic pace of the holidays and getting the kids back to school and their normal routine, Lauren decided she needed to get creative again for Jackson's 2nd Birthday. Again she turned to monsters.
Jackson's Elmo cake was made out of cupcakes. Lauren described it as a "pull-away"cake.
Jackson's Elmo cake was made out of cupcakes. Lauren described it as a "pull-away"cake.
I think I know where she gets some of her inspiration. She has to take partial credit for creating the little monsters that her boys are.
Friday, January 07, 2011
The Inner Circle
The Culper Ring was a secret spy ring, made up of civilians, used by General George Washington during the Revolutionary War. The Culper Ring's purpose was to provide information to the General and eventually the President without any bias or predisposition to the actual information. So secret was the Culper Ring that even Washington himself did not know who were some of the members.
Brad Meltzer has a new book that comes out on 1/11/11 called The Inner Circle. The story is about a modern day Culper Ring although the story and characters are fictional. Meltzer always grounds his characters and stories in some basis of truth which makes his work of fiction almost seem real.
Beecher, the main character, works in the National Archives and stumbles, either by accident or by design (which I still have not figured out) onto a secret communications ring which centers around the President of the United States. The secret spy ring discovers that Beecher has discovered them and now nobody is safe. Beecher has been recently re-acquainted with Clementine, his old child hood crush, who has some secrets herself.
Beecher and Clementine have to put together coded communications left in mysterious locations in an effort to protect themselves from an unknown enemy. At one point they have to seek assistance from Nico Hadrian, a mental patient and would be Presidential assassin (a character from previous Meltzer novel The Book of Fate) whose beliefs are entrenched in secret societies.
I have read every Brad Meltzer book. I watch his show Decoded on the History Channel. I would have to say that Inner Circle is my favorite work of his so far. In all of Meltzer's other books or shows there is always a moment that I say to myself ,"Oh, right, that could never happen." and it takes me out of the action or pacing of the story. Not once in The Inner Circle did I feel that way.
It is a great story, with great, believable characters based in historical locations with historical documents. It blends truth, secret coded messages and fiction. What else could you ask for?
Brad Meltzer apparently was an intern on Capitol Hill-Senate Judiciary Committee- in Washington DC in the early 90's .
Brad Meltzer, apparently, co-wrote the Ameri-Corps Oath, that has been delivered by Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush.
Brad Meltzer, apparently interviewed former Presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton as research for a couple of his novels.
Brad Meltzer apparently is now friendly with the former Presidents.
In 2006, Brad Meltzer participated in a group think tank, along with the CIA, FBI, various psychologists, and Department of Homeland Security intelligence staff to brainstorm new ways that terrorists might attack the U.S.
Brad Meltzer, could very well be a part of a current Culper Ring.
Brad Meltzer has a new book that comes out on 1/11/11 called The Inner Circle. The story is about a modern day Culper Ring although the story and characters are fictional. Meltzer always grounds his characters and stories in some basis of truth which makes his work of fiction almost seem real.
Beecher, the main character, works in the National Archives and stumbles, either by accident or by design (which I still have not figured out) onto a secret communications ring which centers around the President of the United States. The secret spy ring discovers that Beecher has discovered them and now nobody is safe. Beecher has been recently re-acquainted with Clementine, his old child hood crush, who has some secrets herself.
Beecher and Clementine have to put together coded communications left in mysterious locations in an effort to protect themselves from an unknown enemy. At one point they have to seek assistance from Nico Hadrian, a mental patient and would be Presidential assassin (a character from previous Meltzer novel The Book of Fate) whose beliefs are entrenched in secret societies.
I have read every Brad Meltzer book. I watch his show Decoded on the History Channel. I would have to say that Inner Circle is my favorite work of his so far. In all of Meltzer's other books or shows there is always a moment that I say to myself ,"Oh, right, that could never happen." and it takes me out of the action or pacing of the story. Not once in The Inner Circle did I feel that way.
It is a great story, with great, believable characters based in historical locations with historical documents. It blends truth, secret coded messages and fiction. What else could you ask for?
Brad Meltzer apparently was an intern on Capitol Hill-Senate Judiciary Committee- in Washington DC in the early 90's .
Brad Meltzer, apparently, co-wrote the Ameri-Corps Oath, that has been delivered by Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush.
Brad Meltzer, apparently interviewed former Presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton as research for a couple of his novels.
Brad Meltzer apparently is now friendly with the former Presidents.
In 2006, Brad Meltzer participated in a group think tank, along with the CIA, FBI, various psychologists, and Department of Homeland Security intelligence staff to brainstorm new ways that terrorists might attack the U.S.
Brad Meltzer, could very well be a part of a current Culper Ring.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Jackson Turns 2
Two years ago, my wife woke me up with the words, "Bill, I either just peed my pants or my water just broke."
14 hours or so later this little cute guy was born.
14 hours or so later this little cute guy was born.
Except he was not as cute then as he is now.
And he was not as much trouble then as he is now. That is a 32 ounces of shredded cheese he dumped on the family room floor.
And he was not as silly then as he is now.
Or as loveable or as cuddly or as smart or as awesome or as, well, you get the picture.
Happy Birthday Jackson.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Anybody Want A Peanut?
My mom hosts a Christmas Eve gathering/open house at her place for a gift exchange between the various aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, Godparents and Godchildren. This past Christmas the party started at 1pm. Right before we were leaving the mailman dropped off a package addressed to me. I quickly opened it to find an advanced copy of Brad Meltzer's latest book The Inner Circle (which does not hit book stores until 1-11-11). I was quite excited since Brad Meltzer is my secret man crush author.
I took this picture in front of my Abe Lincoln portrait because The Inner Circle is about the (fictional) U.S. President's secret Inner Circle (not Abe's inner circle but you know he was a president so I figured it made sense). I also tried to get the "Bra Melt" part of Brad Meltzer's name. I plan to write a review of Brad's book later this week. Let me just tell you, so far, awesome.
I took this picture in front of my Abe Lincoln portrait because The Inner Circle is about the (fictional) U.S. President's secret Inner Circle (not Abe's inner circle but you know he was a president so I figured it made sense). I also tried to get the "Bra Melt" part of Brad Meltzer's name. I plan to write a review of Brad's book later this week. Let me just tell you, so far, awesome. While at my mom's house my Goddaughter Allyson, my brother Anonymous'/Kevin's daughter, gave me what I consider to be one of my favorite Christmas gifts ever.
That's right, she gave me a Westley and a Fezzik doll from the movie the Princess Bride. If you squeeze their bellies they say lines from the movie including "Anybody want a peanut?". I didn't know these dolls existed. I was even more excited about getting the dolls than the book.
That's right, she gave me a Westley and a Fezzik doll from the movie the Princess Bride. If you squeeze their bellies they say lines from the movie including "Anybody want a peanut?". I didn't know these dolls existed. I was even more excited about getting the dolls than the book. My wife, Lauren, on the other hand is slightly disappointed. She is upset that I was more excited about the book and the dolls than I was for any of the gifts she gave to me. I think it may also have to do with the fact that every night since Christmas Eve Westley, Fezzik and Brad Meltzer's book have been in our bed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
