Harrison Bergeron

There are a few (non-Bible-centric) stories that shaped my thinking early on in life. They include:
Leiningen versus the Ants
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi
The Cask of Amontillado
To the Virgins, Make Much of Time
Harlem
among many others...
However, the one that has effected me the most, is the story of Harrison Bergeron.


Harrison Bergeron


by Kurt Vonnegut (1961)


THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren’t only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.


Some things about living still weren’t quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron’s fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away.


It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn’t think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn’t think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains.


George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel’s cheeks, but she’d forgotten for the moment what they were about.


On the television screen were ballerinas.


A buzzer sounded in George’s head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm.


“That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did,” said Hazel.


“Huh?” said George.


“That dance – it was nice,” said Hazel.


“Yup,” said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They weren’t really very good – no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn’t be handicapped. But he didn’t get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts.


George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.


Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself she had to ask George what the latest sound had been.


“Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer,” said George.


“I’d think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds,” said Hazel, a little envious. “All the things they think up.”


“Um,” said George.


“Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?” said Hazel. Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. “If I was Diana Moon Glampers,” said Hazel, “I’d have chimes on Sunday – just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion.”


“I could think, if it was just chimes,” said George.


“Well – maybe make ‘em real loud,” said Hazel. “I think I’d make a good Handicapper General.”


“Good as anybody else,” said George.


“Who knows better’n I do what normal is?” said Hazel.


“Right,” said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that.


“Boy!” said Hazel, “that was a doozy, wasn’t it?”


It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, were holding their temples.


“All of a sudden you look so tired,” said Hazel. “Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa, so’s you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch.” She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in canvas bag, which was padlocked around George’s neck. “Go on and rest the bag for a little while,” she said. “I don’t care if you’re not equal to me for a while.”


George weighed the bag with his hands. “I don’t mind it,” he said. “I don’t notice it any more. It’s just a part of me.


“You been so tired lately – kind of wore out,” said Hazel. “If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few.”


“Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out,” said George. “I don’t call that a bargain.”


“If you could just take a few out when you came home from work,” said Hazel. “I mean – you don’t compete with anybody around here. You just set around.”


“If I tried to get away with it,” said George, “then other people’d get away with it and pretty soon we’d be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”


“I’d hate it,” said Hazel.


“There you are,” said George. “The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?”


If Hazel hadn’t been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn’t have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.


“Reckon it’d fall all apart,” said Hazel.


“What would?” said George blankly.


“Society,” said Hazel uncertainly. “Wasn’t that what you just said?”


“Who knows?” said George.


The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn’t clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, “Ladies and gentlemen – ”


He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.


“That’s all right –” Hazel said of the announcer, “he tried. That’s the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard.”


“Ladies and gentlemen” said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men.


And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. “Excuse me – ” she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive.


“Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen,” she said in a grackle squawk, “has just escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under–handicapped, and should be regarded as extremely dangerous.”


A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen – upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.


The rest of Harrison’s appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever worn heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H–G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides.


Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds.


And to offset his good looks, the H–G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle–tooth random.


“If you see this boy,” said the ballerina, “do not – I repeat, do not – try to reason with him.”


There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.


Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.


George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have – for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. “My God –” said George, “that must be Harrison!”


The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head.


When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.


Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him, expecting to die.


“I am the Emperor!” cried Harrison. “Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!” He stamped his foot and the studio shook.


“Even as I stand here –” he bellowed, “crippled, hobbled, sickened – I am a greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!”


Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.


Harrison’s scrap–iron handicaps crashed to the floor.


Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall.


He flung away his rubber–ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder.


“I shall now select my Empress!” he said, looking down on the cowering people. “Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!”


A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.


Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask.


She was blindingly beautiful.


“Now” said Harrison, taking her hand, “shall we show the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!” he commanded.


The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. “Play your best,” he told them, “and I’ll make you barons and dukes and earls.”


The music began. It was normal at first – cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.


The music began again and was much improved.


Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while – listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.


They shifted their weights to their toes.


Harrison placed his big hands on the girl’s tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers.


And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!


Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well.


They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.


They leaped like deer on the moon.


The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling.


They kissed it.


And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time.


It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.


Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on.


It was then that the Bergerons’ television tube burned out.


Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George.


But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer.


George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. “You been crying?” he said to Hazel.


“Yup,” she said,


“What about?” he said.


“I forget,” she said. “Something real sad on television.”


“What was it?” he said.


“It’s all kind of mixed up in my mind,” said Hazel.


“Forget sad things,” said George.


“I always do,” said Hazel.


“That’s my girl,” said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head.


“Gee – I could tell that one was a doozy,” said Hazel.


“You can say that again,” said George.


“Gee –” said Hazel, “I could tell that one was a doozy.”

The Stuff Of Nightmares!

No, no, no...not an Obama-Biden Administration!
How about a GIANT BIRD EATING SPIDER!!!
Dear Lord this is spooky:

Read the whole story HERE.
It's not unheard of (in Australia) to have this happen but it's rare.

Note to self: Australia may be a nice place to visit, but you don't want to live there!

We Win!

Ok, I've been following the difference in the weather between Oakland California and Wayne Michigan for the last 3 years. In all that time, I think this is only the second or third time that we've had a better 4 day stretch of weather (not withstanding the temperature) than they have:


Now, if only John McCain can have as nice of a 4 days stretch as Wayne....

ATM Procedures....

A new sign in the Bank Lobby reads:
'Please note that this Bank is installing new Drive-through ATM machines enabling customers to withdraw cash without leaving their vehicles.

Customers using this new facility are requested to use the procedures outlined below when accessing their accounts.

After months of careful research, MALE & FEMALE Procedures have been developed. Please follow the appropriate steps for your gender.'
MALE PROCEDURE:

1. Drive up to the cash machine.
2. Put down your car window.
3. Insert card into machine and enter PIN.
4. Enter amount of cash required and withdraw.
5. Retrieve card, cash and receipt.
6. Put window up.
7. Drive off.
FEMALE PROCEDURE:

1. Drive up to cash machine.
2. Reverse and back up the required amount to align car window with the machine.
3. Set parking brake, put the window down.
4. Find handbag, remove all contents on to passenger seat to locate card.
5. Tell person on cell phone you will call them back and hang up.
6. Attempt to insert card into machine.
7. Open car door to allow easier access to machine due to its excessive distance from the car.
8. Insert card.
9. Re-insert card the right way.
10. Dig through handbag to find diary with your PIN written on the inside back page.
11. Enter PIN.
12. Press cancel and re-enter correct PIN.
13. Enter amount of cash required.
14. Check makeup in rear view mirror.
15. Retrieve cash and receipt.
16. Empty handbag again to locate wallet and place cash inside.
17. Write debit amount in check register and place receipt in back of checkbook.
18. Re-check makeup.
19. Drive forward 2 feet..
20. Reverse back to cash machine.
21. Retrieve card.
22. Re-empty hand bag, locate card holder, and place card into the slot provided!
23. Give dirty look to irate male driver waiting behind you.
24. Restart stalled engine and pull off.
25. Redial person on cell phone.
26. Drive for 2 to 3 miles.
27. Release Parking Brake.

Editorial note by Donnie:
I know lots and lots of women. None of them, NOT ONE, of them would act like this.
They would never use their parking brakes!

More Boston Globe Pics

Ok,if you don't find these awesome (or at least cool) then you don't like babies either.
And, you're mean.
And you dress funny.
Click through for some sweet wildlife photos, like:


and



I love that site.

This is for you honey!

From xkdc this morning

Here Comes The Sun

My favorite photo blog had some new pics up yesterday. There are 21 pictures of the sun during some of it's most 'active' times.
Apparently, right now, the sun is fairly quite. That's kind of an odd thought. The sun just kind of seems, you know....there. Not really 'active' or 'in-active'. Just there. Far out.

The Best We Can Do

Three Hundred MILLION people in this country, and these two clowns are the best we can come up with for President? Depressing.

Joke? Hmmm....

Question: What do Barak Obama and Osama Bin Laden have in common?
Answer: They both count as friends people who have bombed the Pentagon
I'm just sayin'....

WHAT DO YOU WANT? Um, a sandwich? WHEN DO YOU WANT IT? Whenever's ok.

Here in the Metro Detroit Area, we are well familiar with the Labor Movement. Between the UAW, the different teachers unions, the Teamsters etc. we've seen strikes and threats of strikes for longer than I've been alive.
I can even remember my mother putting a sandwich board kind of placard on me when I was young to march in front of the Board of Education in my neighborhood.
Today is the first day of school for my kids. We were wondering if it would start because of the threat of a strike by the teachers. Now, I'm not gonna pick sides, cause I don't know enough about either sides issues, but last week on one of my favorite blogs, a cartoon about strike picketing was posted and I thought I would share it here with you:

Click to view the whole page and surf a bit!

Don't Beat Around The Bush....

HOW TO START EACH DAY WITH A POSITIVE OUTLOOK
1. Open a new file in your computer.

2. Name it 'Barack Obama'.

3. Send it to the Recycle Bin.

4. Empty the Recycle Bin.

5. Your PC will ask you: 'Do you really want to get rid of 'Barack Obama?'

6. Firmly Click 'Yes.'

7. Feel better?


GOOD! - Tomorrow we'll do Nancy Pelosi


Thanks Sis Kathy!!!!

Perspective....

keep watching...you'll see.

More Nerd Stuff

I've mentioned the Large Hadron Collider a few times lately. This weekend they actually start testing it out which is cool.
They are hoping to start smashing stuff and experimenting September 10th.
Anyways...if you want to learn a bit more about what the LHC is and what it's supposed to do, some nerds got together and busted out a musical tutorial:

I don't wanna grow up...

You should feel sorry for my wife.
No. Really. You should.
She has (has?) to live with me. Now, it's not that I'm just a horrible person...I don't think that's it.
I don't abuse her or the kids. I don't drink, smoke, do drugs...all that stuff so you don't have to feel sorry for her over that kind of stuff.
But, apparently, I have a hard time "putting away childish things" as Paul would say.
I love cartoons....love superhero movies...and now, am totally in love with a new toy model!

I saw this on Gizmodo today, along with a sweet review and starting drooling.
I've ALWAYS wanted a Millennium Falcon model (NOT TOY!!!! MODEL!!!!), at least since 1978 or so (the first time I saw Star Wars). But, they are all so expensive. This one is $150.00. For a toy model!
But, I can just see it now...sitting in our computer room, next to my Mustang Collection...[sigh]

Anyways...if you see my wife...pat her on the back, and tell her you feel for her.
Oh...gotta go...the New Wonder Woman DVD cartoon trailer is about to start!

Here's a more in depth review (video)

Legacy Collection Millenium Falcon from Jesse Alexander on Vimeo.
-Note the dude who is doing the videos' dogs names are George and Lucas

The cutest story you'll read today

No, seriously...this is cute. Click here to read.

Not sure what it is, but it looks cool

I've been reading about the Large Hadron Collider for the last few years. Now it's nearing completion.
Here are some pictures as it nears completion.

More pics at are here

4 seconds of fun, 1 hour of pain

Space-porn

I love pictures of outer space stuff...it doesn't matter what:
Planets, Galaxies, Suns and stars...whatever it is, I think it's cool to look at.
One of the blogs that I read recently posted pictures of Jupiter that I really loved...you should love it too!


Views of Jupiter

All of the above....

From "The Onion"

Dude...where's my car?

I told you not to park near the lava flow...but do you listen to me? Nooooo!

Reality.....

Saving a life.....

Ur doin' it rong!

Oakland Wins....

I've been tagged

Here are the rules:

1. Once you are tagged, link back to the person who tagged you.

2. Post THE RULES on your blog.

3. Post 7 weird or random facts about yourself on your blog.

4. Tag 7 people and link to them.

5. Comment on their blog to let them know they have been tagged.

Random Facts About Me:
1. I don't know 7 other bloggers!
Oh, wait! That'd be cheating!

1a. I've never been in trouble with the law, but I have had the police called on me. 10 or 11 year old me and some buddies of mine (ok, it was mostly me) were lighting fires in the alleyway behind some neighbors houses. One of the (mean) neighbors had the gall to call the police. I got away from the law, but one of the kids in the neighborhood saw it all go down and told my brother, who in turn told my mom.
It was the only time in my life that I can remember getting a spanking from my dad. PLUS I was grounded to my room for 3 straight days. I could only come out to go to the bathroom.

2. I've only been in one real fight in my entire life. I was in 5th grade and it was with Tommy Harding (I think). We both stunk at fighting so no one would have got hurt, except for Mike Riggits, who kept trying to kick me while we were rolling on the ground, but kept kicking Tommy. The thing about Mike is, he was the boy in school who wore cowboy boots. So he really got Tommy good a couple of times. Tommy and I became friends after that. I still don't like Mike Riggits.

3. I've a penchant for saying (what can be interpreted as) inappropriate things in public settings. Now, mind you, I (almost) never mean to be mean or inapproriate...things just pop into my head as funny, clever or some combination of the two and that little guy in your brain that looks at things that you say before you say them, giggles and says "Um. NO!" is usually on a bathroom break when those things pop into my head.
If you know me, I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

4. Most of the people that I truly admire probably don't have any idea how much I admire them. I'm REALLY bad at the whole emotion thing. Seriously. I'm pretty sure if I started telling them (and you don't know who you are!) I'd start crying and stuff. So, instead, I just end up feeling like an insensitive jerk because I have a hard time with this. This mostly applies to guys more that the gals. Not sure why, but it's pretty much always been the case that I can talk to women about my 'feelings' more than I can guys. So, if you think I'm a jerk, chances are, I really look up to you!

5. My all time favorite song is Turn The Page by Bob Seger. When my twins were wee little babies and my wife had the temerity to leave me alone with them, I would pull out my Live Bullet album and put Turn The Page on Repeat in order to get them to take their naps. Let me tell you, it worked EVERY time.

6. I, like most people who frequent the internets, have a routine when I log in: First to Google for My Bookmarks. Then, right click and open in a New Tab in this order: AskMen.com, ATT-Yahoo (for Comics), Dilbert.com, iWon.com (more comics...are you sensing a trend?), KevinAndKell.com (yet another comic). Next I check my blogs if any are on the RSS: Holland and Eden, io9.com, Whatever, XKCD, lol-cats, Wil Wheaton, Indexed Photobasement Daniel Negreanu Dr. Horrible and every Friday, Freakangels. Then it's time to work!

7. I don't have a tattoo...however, if I did, it would look like this:

Monday Moanin' Blues

see more crazy cat pics

15 years ago...

I hear Leesha
Singing in heaven tonight
And in between the sadness
I hear Leesha
Telling me that she's alright
        -Micheal W. Smith

It's been fifteen years since we lost our first child, and I can still remember so much, so vividly.

• I remember telling my wife Yes. She could stop taking the little pill everyday, cause it was time to get pregnant. Her smile is still burned in my mind.
  
• I remember my wife coming to the bowling alley, telling me she hasn't felt the baby move in a while. But that happens, right? I bowled a 300 game that night. It really wouldn't bother me if I never bowl another one.
  
• I remember hearing nothing on the fetal monitor at the doctors office.
  
• I remember putting my hand on her stomach on our way to the hospital, praying the most fervent prayer of my life....it went unheard.
  
• I remember watching the ultrasound monitor I'd watched so many times before, except there was no flutter in the heart.
  
• I remember remembering that during the child birthing classes, they told us coaches to remind the mothers that it'll be worth all the pain of childbirth and it'll all fade away when you hear that baby cry....I had to think of something else. Couldn't.
  
• I remember one of the doctors, who had recently found out she was pregnant herself, coming into our room in the middle of the night, sitting on the edge of my wifes bed and crying for her.
  
• I remember holding my lifeless daughter in my arms and thinking she had the most beautiful lips. Ever.
  
• I remember thinking no one should ever have to hold their lifeless daughter in their arms.
  
• I remember making the worst decision I've ever made in my entire life...and likely ever will make. I wish we would have buried her ourselves.
  
• I remember going to our apartment by myself the first time afterwards, and walking into the nursery...I've never cried so hard in my life.
  
• I remember walking down the hallway with my wifes cousin, and him telling me if I needed to talk, he was there for me. This was/is way out of character for him, and probably the most compassionate thing anyone has ever said to me.
  
• I remember wishing I could take him up on his offer.
  
• I remember coming home from the hospital with my wife and walking into the nursery with her....that was the saddest moment of my life.
  
• I remember feeling so very helpless.
  
• I remember my wife telling me that it hurt so bad, when she drove down the road she just wanted to drive into a tree to make the pain stop.
  
• I remember feeling so very, very helpless.
  

I don't know why, but this year it seems that Julie has been on my mind so much more than in recent years. This week, and all it means to my wife and I, has been on the forefront of my mind for the last month or so.

After 15 years, the pain has dulled. The sadness has receded, but not left.
The three children we have are a salve to my soul.
But even so...I still miss her.

Lolsquirrels?

see more crazy cat pics

Could be....

I saw this today under the heading:
Quite Possibly The Luckiest Kid in the World


It just made me laugh....

The Preferred Version

I never really liked this song until I heard this version, but ever since, I've loved BOTH versions:

All The Way To The Crash Site.....

Quote of the Day....

Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day. Give a fish a man, and he'll eat for weeks!
- Takayuki Ikkaku, Arisa Hosaka and Toshihiro Kawabata

Proud Dad....the final chapter....

Two of my favorite three blonds!




Note how EXCITED Mitch (in yellow) looks in the background!

Proud Father, part deux!

1, one, won, numero uno, un, ein,ένας, 1 つ, 1개, um, одно! *

They got a 1 at Solo Ensemble!!!! Yeah Marion and Billie!!!!
You guys are AWESOME!!!!

Best line of the day:
Marion to Grandpa: I got a medal!
Grandpa to Marion: What does it say?
Marion to anyone who will listen: It says: "I ROCK!"

Serious props to Aunt Billie (yes, that Aunt Billie) for all her help. Today, when Marion played for the judges, she played the best I've ever heard her...with all that pressure...and I know it was because of all the work she and Billie put into the effort.
I'm so glad my kids have such loving and involved aunts and uncles, as well as grandparents...I'm so lucky, blessed, blissful, content, contented, endowed, favored, fortunate, glad, granted, joyful, joyous (pick you synonym!) for the family that I have, both born and married!

* bablefish...it's a wonderful thing.

Proud Father

When you have kids, you don't have any idea how things are going to turn out. You do your best when it comes to education, entertainment, religion, friends, family and responsibility, but at the end of the day, you just don't know how things are going to turn out.
Of all the goods and bads that exist in the wonderful world of parenting, I think that worrying about how your kids will turn out is the most ever-present fret.
That said, every once in a while, your kids do something that makes your heart swell with pride and gives you hope that maybe, juuuuusssst maybe, things will turn out okay.
Yesterday, my beautiful daughter Marion did one of those somethings.
For the last few years, she's been playing the flute. It took her quite a while to start getting "good" (my opinion). This year, she's made a marked improvement in her playing. It's been fun to watch (and listen) to her get better.

At the beginning of the school year, she signed up for Solo and Ensemble recital. Her (wonderful) Aunt Billie (yes, that Aunt Billie) signed up to help Marion by being her accompanist in the song.

Over the last several weeks, they've been practicing together every chance they get, and Marion has been practicing even more at home.

I don't recall ever seeing her pour herself into anything more than she has this recital.
Thinking about it, I think there are a couple of reasons for her effort: She's growing up and taking more responsibility (please God, let that be true), she likes to do things that make her parents happy (she's always been a people pleaser)...but most of all, I think the thing that has driven her the most is working with and pleasing her Aunt Billie (yes, that Aunt Billie).
So, all that hard work came to a head yesterday when they had their recital in front of one of the teachers. This seemed like a pre-test for the final grading that comes next week.

For their efforts, they received a 1!!!! SQUEEE!!! (I'm so proud)

I would be remiss if I didn't gush kudos on my darling SIL (yes, that SIL) for her hard work in her part of the duet. She is playing the piano part of the song that they are performing.
Mind you, she's not played the piano (other than for family) in 14 years or so (goodness, she must be getting old!!!). She's done a remarkable job getting back into it after sooooo very many years! (hehehe).
Seriously, thanks Billie! (yes, THAT Billie!)

Doctors Orders

A middle management executive has to take on some sport by his doctor's orders, so he decides to play tennis.

After a couple of weeks his secretary asks him how he's doing.

"It's going fine," the manager says. "When I'm on the court and I see the ball speeding toward me, my brain immediately says, 'To the corner! Back hand! To the net! Smash! Go back!'"

"Really? What happens then?" the secretary asks.

"Then my body says, 'Who? Me? You must be kidding!'"

950,663,000

Nine hundred fifty MILLION six hundred sixty three thousand miles!
That's how far the earth has traveled in it's path around the sun since January 11, 1969....the day I was born.
That's a big number (pick one..the miles traveled or the 39 years I've been around!)

39...Dear Lord! That's like, almost 40! Couple that with the fact that I know have two teenagers living in my house and I've got one foot in the GRAVE!!!!

950596000

67,000 more miles to go.
Anyone have to go to the bathroom?

950529000

getting bigger...and at a rate of 67,000 miles per hour!
Inconceivable!

948921000

whew...that's a big number....and climbing!

947313000

And counting.....

New Hero

First, there was Superman. Then Batman. Next came Spiderman. This summer, Iron Man is going to be released.
All cool, and all superheroes...however, none can compare with this story:

An 11-year-old boy demonstrated The Force when he defended his mom by hitting an attacker with a toy lightsaber.

11-year-old boy.
Defended mom.
Used a (toy) LIGHTSABER!!!

How cool is that?

Talk, Dream, Resolve

Indexed is one of my favorite blogs.
Today, she posted a New Years Day Index that I really liked:


Walk Your Talk
Work Your Plan
Live Your Dream

2008

blah, blah, blah...Happy New Year...blah, blah, blah

No, seriously....Happy New Year.
Here's to hoping that 2008 brings you all the desires of your heart!

What We Have, Is Failure To Communicate!

My kids have always been very good at communicating. The twins have always had a great vocabulary and they know how to use it.
My youngest also has a very good grasp of the language.
Today, I discovered one of the ramifications of this particular skill.
Having kids who are good speakers, I sometimes forget that they are just that...kids.
Particularly with Mitch, the young one.
So, today, he asked me to write out some math problems for him to work on......yeah, you read that correctly. He wanted me to write out several math problems so he can practice. In actuallity, he just likes to show off, but I don't care. I think it's cool that he likes to do math. I didn't like to do math until Calc II in college.
So, I wrote out several problems of the form:
   20
+ 15
+ 10

He works out the problems and gives them back to me. The first problem was off by a huge number..like 40. I asked him, to review the problem and let me know what he did wrong. After checking it out, he informed me that it was correct!
So, I read the problem to him, and this is where I discovered the problem....
You see, when I write a 2, I make it all loopy...the 2s that he sees are more like the two's in this font...no loops. His little mind saw that, and the closest number he could associate that with was a 6. If you substituted a 6 for the number, then his answer was correct!
After telling him this was a 2, he redid the problem and got it right.
I got to thinking about this....about how experience makes all the difference in the world...how I take for granted what my kids know (and don't know) and how I maybe shouldn't do that.
Also, if you wonder why it's so hard for computers to do things that you may think simple, it's for the very same reason...there's brazillion's of ways to do the same thing, but until you do it (or see it or smell it or taste it) it's very difficult to contextualize things.
Mitch saw a number he hadn't seen before and tried to put it in context...the best he could do was think that Dad had wrote the number backwards!
The cool thing about this is, the next time, he WILL be able to put it into context...we both just got a bit smarter today.

St. Agnes

Card tricks are good....

The Creative Process

Probably since high school, I've liked to write. Part of the reason I started this blog is so that I could (hopefully) improve my writing skills. I've enjoyed writing this blog and I enjoy that I look out for things that I'd like to write about.
Also, I've started to try and find information around the writing process itself. Where ideas come from, what to do with them, etc, etc. I've even bought a book!

I've linked to John Scalzi several times over the last few months. One of the reasons why I like his work is precisely because he likes to help aspiring writers (of which, I find myself among).
This month, he's asked dozens of authors that he knows to post something on his blog about the writing process. Today, he's asked Elizabeth Bear, and she's posted a very good thought on the process behind writing a novel.
If you're interested in writing, take a look and let me know what you think.

Do You Know What I Know?

The Chicago Tribune has a Christmas Carol Quiz online: HERE

I missed 20 out of 25 which is a solid B-.
Not so coincedentally, that's what I graduated both High School and College with.
I'm consistent!

BTW, if you take the quiz, also check out the 'Scared of Santa' pictures too...funny!

p.s. Props to my SIL: Billie for the heads-up on this. You Rock!

Christmas for Geeks

This was too cool for school.
Somebody's posted Christmas Cards sent out by King George (Lucas) over the last 30 years or so...I wonder if you could find the entire collection on eBay?

Here's my fave:

Just 'cause

“ In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil's might,
Beware my power...Green Lantern's light!”
        —Hal Jordan/All Current Lanterns

Love My Nieces (and their dad too, I guess!)

Don't send a lame Holiday eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!

Hark, Abbott!

Ok, so for as long as I can remember, I've been a fan of Abbott and Costello. My all time, number 1 most awesomestly favorite comic skit is Who's On First by A and C.
I used to have it on audio cassette and would listen to it over and over again while I was working.
Recently, while doing some research for a Christmas Party we are having at work, I came across a version of Who's On First, dubbed over Yoda and Jar-Jar Binks. That was pretty funny, so I sent it to my son for his pleasure.
To my shock, horror and SHAME, he informed my wife that he had never heard this skit before. Alas, I have failed as a father....sorry Matt.

She told him to search for the original, which he did and loved, so hopefully, he should recover from my indescretion.

Anyway, since then, I've been watching it again, and while viewing on YouTube, I notice a Shakespearian Version of the the classic skit. This is done very well, and is worth your time to watch. Enjoy:

Geek Sports

I saw this on Wired* today....AWESOME!

Here's a list of the top 10 Geek Sports:

1) Racewalking
The sporting equivalent of marching band. Inhaler required.

2) Segway Polo
The only sport in the world in which Woz (and his trusty personal transporter) could make the A team.

3) Badminton
When tennis balls get silly drunk, they dress up like shuttlecocks.

4) Hacky Sack
Based on our exhaustive research of this game, prog-rock T-shirts and ponytails aren't mandatory, but they help.

5) Curling
More a physics exercise than physical exercise. Bonus: tracksuits.

6) Jousting
Armor + the potential for internal hemorrhaging = pretty cool. If only the Ren Faire were every weekend.

7) Fencing
The fake swords — they're actually fake lightsabers. (Jedi mind trick.)

8) Disc Golf
In an ideal world, we would all put down our clubs and pick up a disc. Frolf, anyone?

*Hyperlinks mine

Goodbye Evel Knievel....

Friday was a sad day.
Not sad in the sense that anything drastic or horrible happened to me or my family.
Not sad because someone hurt my feelings.
Not sad for any real, personal, reasons.
Yet, it was sad none the less.
Evel Knievel died on Friday, and that makes me sad.

I started thinking about Evel, when I heard the news, and that sent me back to my childhood.
I can remember, pretty clearly, Saturday afternoons spent in front of the family TV, watching ABC's Wide World of Sports.
That's how I was introduced to Evel Knievel. I remember watching him do his daring stunts on TV and thinking how I wished I could do that.
I wished I could jump all those buses on a motorcycle.
I wished I could jump the fountain at the casino.
I wished I could jump the Snake River*...of course, so did he!

I remember talking about Evel (even his name was cool then!) to my friends, all the time. If I had a dime for everytime I told some one 'He broke every bone in his body at least once!', I wouldn't be rich, but it would be a Merry Christmas!

The cool thing about these kinds of trips down memory lane, is that they usually don't stop there....with what brought you. So it was with me.

I kept thinking about those Saturday afternoons...how many cool or interesting things I used to see. You never knew what you'd get:
The Harlem Globetrotters
Muhammad Ali and Howard Cosell (DOWN GOES FRASIER!!! DOWN GOES FRASIER!!!)
Gymnastics
Figure Skating
and all started with those famous words by Jim McKay (I can still hear him now):

Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport… the thrill of victory… and the agony of defeat… the human drama of athletic competition… this is ABC's Wide World of Sports!

Cool thing about that is, when they said 'agony of defeat', they always showed a picture of this poor fellow, Vinko Bogataj, crashing down a ski jump. My uncle was there, under that ramp and saw the whole thing live. How cool is that!?!?

At the end of the weekend, I realized, 'Yeah, I'm sad that Evel died'. I'm sad for his family, particularly Robbie, who have to deal with this loss. My prayers go out to them.
However, it was a bittersweet sadness. I liked remembering. I liked thinking about those simple times when I was young and I'd put a board over some bricks and pretend I was jumping 25 buses instead of 25 Hot Wheels Cars.
I liked watching Ali beat someone up, or Nadia Comaneci win gold medals, or the Medowlark Lemon toss in a half court hook shot (swish) to beat the Washington Generals (again!).

So, once again, Evel Knievel delivers...if not through the exhilaration of some daring jump, then through a genteel trip down memory lane.


*I think this is also when Evel Jumped the Shark!

Something Is Seriously Wrong Here

So, you've heard of the teacher in Sudan whose classroom voted to name a teddybear "Muhammad"? At first, when 'some' parents found out, she was apparently tried, convicted and sentenced to 12 days in jail and deportation. Here crime? Insulting Religion.
Now, from my point of view, that punishment would have been a reward. At least she would get out of that nutty land.

However, there has been a new twist. In the Sudan, on Friday, after a bunch of Muslims got out of their service, there was RIOTING IN THE STREETS AND CALLS FOR THIS WOMENS EXECUTION!
ZOMGBBQ!!!11!!1

Here's a pull quote from FoxNews.com

They burned pictures of Gibbons and called for her execution (emphasis mine), saying, "No tolerance: Execution," and "Kill her, kill her by firing squad."

How do you deal with this kind of insanity?
What in the world did these guys hear in their sermons that could make them want to execute a women because she let the kids of her classroom name a teddybear after their precious prophet.

Let's go all the way here...let's assume for a minute that she was malicious. Let's assume that she HATES Muslims and their Prophet, and that she named the bear Muhammad because she's mean and thinks very little of the guy. Let's assume the bear was UGLY and mean looking with a giant L on it's forehead!

STILL! What kind of INSANE, messed up kind of human being do you have to be to make the leap from that to "Oh, well, she deserves to die"?

When someone uses the Lords Name in vain, or says something about God that I don't particularly care for, it can make me upset, or even angry. But if there is one and only one thing I know for sure, it is: My God doesn't need little ole' me to stick up for Big Ole' Him! He got along fine before me and will get along fine after I'm gone. I don't need to fight His battles for him. He can take care of Himself.

Can Muhammad or Allah or whoever say the same? Why do these people feel the need to defend their God and his prophet from mean people like female, British TEACHERS! GAAAH! (calm down Donnie, calm down!)

Folks, that is one crazy religion, and that is one crazy group of people.

Happy Thanksgiving!

No one says Happy Thanksgiving better than my favorite cartoon character!

Change-Not Everything Happens For A Reason

A few months back, I was introduced to some books by a writer named John Scalzi. They are excellent reads and I highly recommended them. I also was introduced to one of his blogs, which soon became one of my favorite places to lurk.

Every week in his blog, he invites other bloggers to write about a topic of his choice. When you participate, you post the topic and invite others to do so:

Weekend Assignment #191: Show us, or tell us a story about, change. A before and after picture of the street where you grew up, a story about meeting an old friend after many years, two pictures of yourself separated by a number of years, a tale about changing your life, or showing or tell us about something in the process of changing itself. Any of these is good. And doesn't have to be a negative, because sometimes change is a good thing.

Want to play along? Go to John's journal here

This week the topic is Change.
I've been wanting to participate in these assignements for a while, and either I didn't have the guts to try a post, or the topic didn't strike me, so when I saw his post today about this weeks assignement, I started thinking.
At first a few thoughts on my career and how it's changed popped into my head, then thoughts of the kids, our church life and a few other similarly appropriate ideas flitted thru....but nothing stuck out.

That all changed tonight however, when my family and I attended the 3rd annual St. Joseph's NICU fashion show.
One of the main speakers of the night was my dear sister in law, Billie. She was a speaker tonight because she has two, wonderful, little girls who both spent 110 days in the St. Joe's NICU when they were born rediculously early.
During the night, watching my 'little' sister tell the tale of the amazingly difficult and trying time she and her husband have gone thru since the girls were born, I saw, for really the first time, this remarkable women.
Not that Billie hasn't always been remarkable....she has. And not that she hasn't always been a women, she has (hehehe) but I guess I just saw her tonight in a new light.
She's changed...she's grown, she's struggled and she's overcome so very much and that's remarkable. She's remarkable.
Billie in 2004

Billie in 2007

She doesn't look much different, but she's become a strong, determined and formidable advocate for the NICU at St. Joe's as well as a vocal, articulate spokeswomen for raising premature birthing awareness everywhere.

Equally remarkable though is the change in her girls. I could tell you their tale, but I'm not qualified...only Billie and maybe someone as talented as Mr. Scalzi could do it justice. However, I'm posting a few pictures...then and now.
Eden and Holland in 2004:


Eden and Holland, Now:

I'm not entirely sure if this is within the scope of the weekend assignment that John was looking for...pointing to another blog, but if you want to read a story of change, then look to the story of Holland and Eden, the Micropreemie Twins.

Christmas list...Year 2

Last year I posted a Christmas wish list, so I figured I'd do it again...without the rant.
Feel free to gift any of these!!!
- The Happiest Days of Our Lives by Wil Wheaton
- Guitar Hero Encore: Rock the 80's for the PS2
- Please Santa! I've been goot!!!1!

Gift Cards

• iTunes has become a big part of my life now that I have an iPod Touch!
  
• Best Buy
  
• Home Depot
  
• Any one of several dining establishments
  

T-Shirts!

• My Rules
  
• Video Games Ruined My Live
  
• Poker Hand Values
  
• Birds and the Bees
  
• At XKCD there are two shirts, one called Useless and the other called Witty (story of my life!) that are schweet!
  

Books

• Thomas Covenant Books!
  
• Android's Dream
  

Don't you wonder about what a Christmas List says about you?
What do you think mine says about me?
What does yours say about you?

You know you're a geek when....

Ingredients List:
1 Star Trek fanatic (check)
1 PS3 Blu-Ray Laser (check)
1 Toy Star Trek Phaser (check)
several pieces of wire and some electrical components (check)

Toss in a dremmel tool and a bit of glue and what do you get?
You get your very own Phaser!


Blu-Ray Laser Phaser! - video powered by Metacafe

You know what this means, don't you?

SWEET!
A new study came out today...it says being overweight isn't so terrible afterall!

Being 25 pounds overweight doesn't appear to raise your risk of dying from cancer or heart disease, says a new government study that seems to vindicate Grandma's claim that a few extra pounds won't kill you.

I guess that means the DIET'S OVER!!!

Ok, not really, but still, it's kinda good news, but also a little irritating.

Doesn't it seem to always happen? First, some study comes out and says that something we love is bad for us. It can't be something we don't like...oh no...it's something we love. Like chocolate or coffee or wine or whatever.
Wouldn't it be awesome if some study came out and said that paying our bills was detrimental to our health! (ok, I know, it is, but work with me!!)

Could you imagine that conversation: "I'm sorry Mr. Banker, but my health insurance won't cover me so long as I'm paying my car payment....take it up with them!"

So stuff we like is bad for us, then, a few years later, new studies come out and say why the first study was all wet and stupid.
For years we've heard that being even a few pounds overweight is equivalent to putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Now, it comes out that there may actually be BENEFITS to it! Huh? What did I miss?

Chocolate was bad for you...now, not so much.
Coffee was bad for you...now, not so much.
Wine was bad for you...now, not so much.
Being overwieght was bad for you...now, not so much.

Don't get me wrong, all those things CAN be bad for you....in excess.
So can excercise, so can reading, so can tofu (whatever that is!)

I guess God had it right when he said "temperate in all things". Amazing! (sw)

Elbow.
And.
Send.

What! No plans to build flying cars!!!

Drat!


Mean Automakers Dash Nation's Hope For Flying Cars

I love The Onion!

More Cowbell

Probably posted this before...and I'll probably post it again, but....
I was listening on my SICK new iPod, and (Don't Fear) The Reaper started flowin' out of it...and of course, that always makes me think: MORE COWBELL!!!!

Shakespearian Insult

I've got a widget on my iGoogle page that generates Shakespearian Insults...today's was ridiculously cool:

Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity? And will you yet call yourself young?
    -Taken from: Henry IV, part 2

Maybe it's just me...

Does this hurt your eyes to look at?
It does me!

Technology Update

Ok, so, from what I understand it's a genetic 'disorder'. My great uncle had it. He passed it down to my dad. My dad passed it on to me, so I've got it, and I'm pretty sure I've passed it on to at least two of my kids.
What might this disorder be you ask? (Go ahead...ask...I'll wait!)
Neophilia
Sounds kinda dirty doesn't it? Well it's not. Basically, I'm a gadget nut.
Well, the latest gadget that I've come into possesion of is an iPod Touch.


Oh dear goodness is this thing cool. I don't even mind having to fiddle around with iTunes in order to get stuff onto it.

It's got a sweet little browser built into it that allows me to surf the web, just like a normal browser (albeit small).

It's got a bit more kick in the volume department than my Nano did, so I can damage my hearing even MORE! CRANK IT TO 11!

The whole Album Browsing thing (I'm sure there's a better name for it, but it, like most things worth knowing, escapes me) is worth the price of admission!

It's got an accelerometer built into it, so it can figure out how your holding the thing and display appropriately. Yeah, I said accelerometer! That's fun to SAY! And I got a gadget with one in it!!!

It also changes the intensity of the picture, based on the brightness of the room you're in!!!

And (oh yeah, there's more!)...I said And, it's got a MULTI TOUCH screen. No single touch sissified screen thingy here...oh no. Multi touch baby!
SWEET!

All in all, this gets five "Dude, this is cool"'s

Dieting Advice You Can Count On

Since the beginning of the year, I've been concerned about my weight. On and off all year, I've been dieting or exercising. I'm currently in a cycle of doing both, and very much enjoying it.
In doing this, I've learned a great deal about dieting, and many, many people come to me for advice regarding this subject. So, in light of this, I felt I should compile a list of commonly asked questions and answers. They are as follows:

---

Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap.

Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables?
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Hay and corn. And what are these? Vegetables. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable slop.

Q: How can I calculate my body fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have a body, and you have body fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc.

Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain -- Good.

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you?
A: You're not listening. Food is fried these days in vegetable oil. The fact is they're permeated with it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you?

Q: What's the secret to healthy eating?
A: Thicker gravy.

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach.

I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had.

How many's a Brazilian?

Being a bit of a geek, and hanging around like minded fellows, I've heard the term brazillion thrown around a bit. I've always wondered exactly how many a brazillion is. Now, I know I'm in good company:

Quote of the Day!

From The Onion's horoscope page for this week:

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but laziness will be responsible for its decomposition in the middle of your living room floor.

That makes me giggle.....

Agnes Rocks

Everyday I have a little ritual at work where it check out about a dozen or so comics. I love comics. Have since I was just a wee lad. Of course I do the popular ones, Dilbert, B.C. and such, but I have two that I love that are not so widely known. One is called Kevin and Kell. I've followed it for a few years now. It's strickly web published.
The other, my personal favorite, is called Agnes. Today's comic, in a nutshell, is why she's my favorite:

Human LCD --- Far Out!

Ok, so who among you love their sports team(s)? You may THINK you love your sports team, but, are you as nutty as these South Korean boys toward their soccer team?



The most amazing thing is that they do this with their CLOTHES (not holding up cards). They apparently have a jacket that is one color on the back, one on the front, and that they can open or close to show a third color shirt on the inside. One school has also figured out how to use their pants to make shading.

Now these are fanatics!

Just 'cause it's perty

One of my new, favorite bloggers posted a link to this picture.



Click here for the explanation of the picture...

Cutest. Ever.

Oh. My. Goodness.
If you like cute stories, you're gonna love this story.
If you like cute pictures, you're gonna love this picture.
If you like cute pictures that have cute stories....forget about it!!!

This Story!

Make Your Own Hot Air Balloon!

Kudos to whoever tries this!



If you give this a shot, send me a picture!

One happy dog

This just cracks me up


Wouldn't you like to be able to do this?

Occam's Razor

Well, I crossed another Rubicon this week.
I started a new position here at FoMoCo. I'm working in the ETO Group. That means I'm technical support for (most of) the big shots.
I think it's going to be a pretty cooly job. I get to do some hardware troubleshooting and will be part of setting up new processes to make the company safer and more secure.

While moving, I came across a Word doc that I had printed out and posted in my cube. The printout didn't make the move, so I just printed it again and reposted:

Use Occam's Razor
PLURALITA NON EST PONENDA SINE NECESSITATE

Translated:
Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily.

Usefulness:
When you have two competing theories which make exactly the same predictions, the one that is simpler is the better.

Boilded Down:
Keep it simple, stupid.

Cool Waste of Time

One of the best/worst features of the internet is the ability to get Lost In Cyberspace. This particularly exists in the blog-o-sphere, where you can get started reading an exceptionally well written, or compelling (or both) blog, and the next thing you know, hours have been blown.
I've been known to spend a few hours just hyperlinking thru Wikipedia. It's fun. You should give it a try.

The other day, a buddy of mine told me about a site he'd read through a few years back and he had recently re-discovered it. He sent me the link. 4 hours later, I had finished the site.
So, as a free service I provide, here is the same link: http://www.brendancahill.com/index.html

The 'Outside The Box' webcomic is one of the coolest, best directed and best set of stories I have read on the 'net yet. I highly recommend it. However, be warned. If you're anything like me, (may the Lord help you) you will need a little time to get through all the stories.

Glittering Jewels of Colossal Ignorance part 3: (Don't Go Breakin' My Heart!)

I'm a big fan of Elton John's music. For as long as I can remember I've liked and listened to him. Crocodile Rock is still one of my favoirite songs.
However, for some silly, silly reason, he decided to talk about the internet and how bad it is for music.
Now usually when someone, especially a musician, talks about the intertubes now-a-days, they are running down illegal downloads and such. That's not the case with Sir Elton however.
He's talking about how music today sucks COMPARED TO THE 70'S!!! Wow...that's huge right there. Apparently, because people are online and using technology and, apparently, not communicating, music is suffering.
Here are some of his quotes:

"We're talking about things that are going to change the world and change the way people listen to music and that's not going to happen with people blogging on the internet."
"I mean, get out there -- communicate."
"Hopefully the next movement in music will tear down the internet."
"Let's get out in the streets and march and protest instead of sitting at home and blogging."
"I do think it would be an incredible experiment to shut down the whole internet for five years and see what sort of art is produced over that span."
"There's too much technology available."

Um...huh?
Maybe someone should send Elton an Internet or two so that he can figure out that more people are communicating more than ever, because of Technology and specifically because of the internets.
He is also quoted as saying: “I am such a Luddite when it comes to making music. All I can do is write at the piano.” So, Elton...if all you can do is write music, maybe, just maybe, you should stop talking about things that you don't know about. Maybe.

5 Questions Feared by (most*) Men

1. What are you thinking about?
2. Do you love me?
3. Do I look fat in this?
4. Do you think she is prettier than me?
5. What would you do if I died?

What makes these questions so difficult is that each one is guaranteed to explode into a major argument if the man answers incorrectly (i.e. tells the truth). Therefore, as a public service, each question is analyzed below, along with possible responses.

Question #1: What are you thinking about? The proper answer to this, of course, is: "I'm sorry if I've been pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful, thoughtful, caring, intelligent woman you are, and how lucky I am to have met you."

This response obviously bears no resemblance to the true answer, which most likely is one of the following: a. "Baseball." b. "Golf." c. "How fat you are." d. "How I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Perhaps the best response to this question was offered by Al Bundy, who once told Peg, "If I wanted you to know what I was thinking, I would be talking to you!"

Question #2: Do you love me? The proper response is: "Yes!" or, if you feel a more detailed answer is in order, "Yes, dear."

Inappropriate responses include: a. "Oh yeah, bunches." b. "Would it make you feel better if I said yes?" c. "That depends on what you mean by love." d. "Does it matter?" e. "Who, me?"

Question #3: Do I look fat? The correct answer is an emphatic: "Of course not!"

Incorrect answers are: a. "Compared to what?" b. "I wouldn't call you fat, but you're not exactly thin." c. "A little extra weight looks good on you." d. "I've seen fatter." e. "Sorry, what did you say? I was just thinking about how I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Question #4: Do you think she's prettier than me? Once again, the proper response is an emphatic: "Of course not!"

Incorrect responses include: a. "Yes, but you have a better personality." b. "Not prettier, but definitely thinner." c. "Not as pretty as you when you were her age." d. "Define pretty." e. "Sorry what did you say? I was just thinking about how I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Question #5: What would you do if I died? A definite no-win question. (The real answer, of course, is "Buy a Mustang GT500 and a boat.")

No matter how you answer this, be prepared for at least an hour of follow-up questions, usually along these lines:

Woman: Would you get married again?
Man: Definitely not!
Woman: Why not -- don't you like being married?
Man: Of course I do.
Woman: Then why wouldn't you remarry?
Man: Okay, I'd get married again.
Woman: You would? (With a hurtful look on her face)
Man: (audible groan)
Woman: Would you sleep with her in our bed?
Man: Where else would we sleep?
Woman: Would you put away my pictures, and replace them with pictures of her?
Man: That would seem like the proper thing to do.
Woman: And would you let her use my golf clubs?
Man: She can't use them -- she's left-handed.
Woman: (silence)
Man: Crap.


*This applies to most men...not I however. I don't fear these questions!

On Notice

**Update:
Since posting this I've: Finished the plumbing in the basement, played three error free softball games (two of them as 2nd base), and fixed the problem with my plumbing!

I'm it

Ok Billie, here goes. Eight(8) random facts/habits about me:
1. I believe that recreational drugs, prostitution, consuming alcohol and gambling should be legal for everyone over the age of 18 (if you can kill and die for your country, you should be able to drink!). Not that I would partake in any of them (eh hem!) or even believe they are appropriate things that people SHOULD do. I just think they should be legal. Not that these can't be sin and all either...but there should be a difference between what is a sin and what is against the law, and that differnce should be how it impacts others and not oneself.
2. Not counting family, I've kissed a total of 2 girls on the lips in my entire life. I'm married to one of them, and wouldn't have it any other way. Of course, my wife won't let me live down the other one (we were on a BREAK honey!)
3. I have a giant man crush on Wil Wheaton. It's rather pathetic actually.
4. Most people confuse me being frustrated with me being mad. It's frustrating.
5. I like to be called Donnie, even though it makes me sound like I'm five. My dad's Don, and I only get called Donald by my mom, MIL and wife (and occasionlly by my 12 year old son when he wants to get my attention), and only when I'm in trouble with any one (or all) of those three.
6. All things being equal and the opportunity arises, I'd move to Oakland, California tomorrow.
7. I make friends hard and aquaintances easily. I keep to myself and like who I like. But, once your in, your in for life. The big problem with this is that I so miss my last Pastor and his wife, now that we go to a new church. Thinking about that makes me want to cry, right now.
8. I could have lived a long and happy life not ever having read about my lil' SIL having something call a Mirena IUD.

There...the rules state that I have to pass this on to 8(eight) people. Um, if you've read closely, (number seven(7)) you'd realize that I'd be hard pressed to know 8(eight) bloggers. I know two(2)......

I Love Ludington!!!

Kim and I just celebrated our 16th anniversary last week. Now, 16 years may not seem like a lot, but when you consider that we got engaged 17 years ago, started going steady 21 years ago and start to 'like' each other some 25 years ago, and that I'm 38 years old, well, then you can see we got something goin' on!

Kim's family introduced me to Ludington years ago. My FiL's Aunt and Uncle lived there, so he got to go there as a kid (I think he heard Abraham Lincoln give a speech there when he was a boy, but I could be making that up), and he's still is going.

Any way, I thought it would be cool to go there for our anniversary this year, so I made the plans to ditch the kids, reserved a room at the Lakeside Inn of Ludington, rent a Ford Fusion for kicks and spend our anniversary there.

It was as pretty as it ever has been. Since the last time we were there, they've added a new park down by the Marina and have opened the North Shore Light House to the public to go up into!

The weather was beautiful, if not a tad bit windy and cool on the lake. In any case, it was wonderful.
In those 'I wish' moments, I wish that we could live over there, or at the very least, have a cottage in Hamlin.
If you ever get a chance, I'd highly advise going!



I know, I know. You so dig the t-shirt!

What'd he say? What'd he say?

I know that you believe that you understood what you think I said, but I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.
- Robert McCloskey

A Raisin In The Sun

When I was in college, I had to take a multi-cultural literature class. I, like many of my classmates (and I suspect boatloads of others) felt like this was a total waste of time and money.

Anyway, one semester, the only class that I could take that remotely fit into the set of classes that I had to take was an African-American Lit Class.

Even though I didn't WANT to take the class, even though there were many weeks of arguments, disagreements and discussions this turned out to be one of the best classes I took in college.

I suspect that's the reason why students have to take classes like this and I am glad for the experience....drat!

I said all that to say, the last several days the poem Harlem, by Langston Hughes has been going through my pea brain, so I figured I'd share it:

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?