I'm going to try and sneak in a quick post before work.
It was a busy and productive morning. Smiley and I bought diapers, cat food and litter, went to the bank, paid our utility bill, gave my sister and Dad each a ride, dropped off a folder at the girl's school, and went to his ENT appointment.
[Smiley's ears have improved since the last appointment, but the right tube is still recessed and runs the risk of thinning the bone in his ear. So he'll have to try to fix it himself by holding his nose and blowing hard twice a day (I'm serious) or they'll have to fix it with surgery.]
Speaking of paying that utility bill; as of now my mortgage, car, insurance, utility and cell phone bills are all paid for the month. With the escrow increase in June, God willing that's not the last month I can say that. I need a better job, and ASAP.
Things have gotten so bad for a number of our circle that two of Lisa's friends have asked, independently of one another, if we'd consider allowing them to move in and help pay the costs of the house.
As Lisa is irrationally against the idea of having sister wives, I say no deal ;)
* * * *
Ok, I'm running out of time before work. So I'll scrap the last half of the post and (possibly) recycle it later. Have a good one!
Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Showing posts with label general. Show all posts
Showing posts with label general. Show all posts
Monday, May 18, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Bobs, Fishies, and Funerals on the Front Porch
What a weird day. After I returned from work Lisa immediately left for her own job, and I took a whack at cutting the lawn for the first time in 2009. Let me tell you, that ol' push reel mower gave me a workout. My legs burn a lot more than they would after a half hour bike ride. I don't know if that means I'm that much (more) out of shape, or if I need the blades sharpened. Probably both.
YaYa, who went to play with her cousin after school, then called and started pleading with me to take her for a haircut. She's wanted a bob for over a year, but we refused to do it before the Commmunion. Now she called in her markers, and I agreed if a) I called her Mom and she gave the ok b) she got my sister to babysit and c) if she got home at a reasonable time.
With all three criteria met, we went for the haircut. The stylist had a great personality and YaYa kept up a steady stream of chatter, mainly about the communion. The cut turned out longer than she wanted, but YaYa was so ecstatic afterwards it was nuts. She was grinning, jumping, skipping, you name it. "Are you happy?" I asked. "What does it look like?" she said.
YaYa, who went to play with her cousin after school, then called and started pleading with me to take her for a haircut. She's wanted a bob for over a year, but we refused to do it before the Commmunion. Now she called in her markers, and I agreed if a) I called her Mom and she gave the ok b) she got my sister to babysit and c) if she got home at a reasonable time.
With all three criteria met, we went for the haircut. The stylist had a great personality and YaYa kept up a steady stream of chatter, mainly about the communion. The cut turned out longer than she wanted, but YaYa was so ecstatic afterwards it was nuts. She was grinning, jumping, skipping, you name it. "Are you happy?" I asked. "What does it look like?" she said.
The whole way home all she could talk about was her hair and the two goldfish she'd bought with her First Communion money. Nicknamed Betsy "Bess" (the big one) and Anne (the small one), she was instantly fascinated with them. She even wrote a note to herself on her dresser, identifying each one by size and warning herself to "feed them only when I go to bed."
We were home maybe thirty seconds before YaYa screamed and chaos broke loose, with one kid after another flying down the stairs. "He killed him!" YaYa yelled, "Smiley got into my room and killed Betsy!"
"Smiley is that true?!" I said.
He gave me a panicked deer-in-the-headlights look and shook his head no. I went up to her room and found Betsy upside down in the bowl, surrounded by a heapin' helpin' of fish food.
"SMILEY!!!" I yelled.
We'll skip ahead a few minutes to keep this civil. YaYa was in tears, LuLu was putting her arms around her and trying to comfort her, Smiley was in his room crying, the baby had no clue what was going on and was wailing, and my sister hurried to put on her coat.
"See ya," she said and walked out the door. Lucky devil.
I scooped the fish out and told YaYa we'd have a funeral for her in our backyard, right there in the moonlight. We went outside and picked a spot and were all set to bury the fish when YaYa decided she wanted to write a farewell letter to her. So she went back to her room and I was left holding a dead fish.
The text, which was followed by a drawing of Betsy, read:
Dear Betsy. I loved you. I loved you more than Anne, even thow [sic] I had you for a day. [Smiley] got into my room and killed you. We love you and I love you. [YaYa} + the [Slapinions]
Change of plan: instead of the backyard I'd bury her in the planter on the front porch, then plant our normal summer flowers in it as a 'memorial' to Betsy. Imagine the scene: YaYa, bawling, falling to her knees on the porch in prayer. LuLu, trying to comfort her, asking me if we could "maybe, like, buy one of those round stones with her name on it" to put over the grave; Smiley, no longer crying but staying inside watching through the door; and an endless parade of items to be donated to the grave, from the letter to a cloth tulip to a tiny rabbit statue and a piece of a Mr. Clean Eraser.
"Enough already," I said. "It's a goldfish. Let's keep this in perspective." And with that, surrounded only by the letter and the paper tulip, Betsy was laid to rest. 
It turns out Smiley was at fault. Earlier in the day, while I was at work, a visitor (Faith) happened to walk by the bowl and notice Betsy on the floor. Smiley had taken her out to pet her, and then left her on the floor. She survived, but apparently was greatly weakened by the ordeal.
What a day.
Let it all hang out
This should make you all feel better about your day:
I went to work this morning dressed for success in a new pair of slacks, freshly polished shoes, and silk shirt. Hey, I'd enjoyed resurrecting the ol' shirt and tie for the Communion, and I wanted to carry it over to the workplace. After all, dress for the job you want, not the one you have.
At work a friend was standing on a windowsill as he tried to lower a sign that normally hangs about ten feet off the ground.
"You're an idiot. Why don't you get a ladder?" I asked.
"I don't need a #@$% ladder, that's why. Get up here and lend me a hand."
I walked beneath the sign and was able to grab a corner as he lowered it, taking some of the weight off of him. It wasn't good enough.
"Dude, get up here and hold this while I grab the wire."
Here's where catastrophe set in. I took a step up onto the windowsill and heard what my buddy later called a "cartoon sound effect".
I'd ripped my pants from the knee to my belt, leaving thigh, crotch, and ass hanging in the breeze.
Cue riotous laughter around me.
I'll say this for me: somewhere along the line, in a lifetime full of humiliation and social miscues, I lost the ability to be embarrassed by such horrific scenes. Really. I reacted with detached fatigue. I let the laughter carry on for a minute.
"Are you going to help me here, or are you going to keep staring at my ass?" I asked.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not holding that together."
"Grab me the tape a**hole."
I wrapped a few pieces of packing tape around my leg and proudly marched across a crowded store at a leisurely pace. I walked into the office, told the boss I had to leave, and strolled back the way I came, then out and across a parking lot.
Somewhere along the first leg of that trip the tape gave way, and for much of the walk I grabbed what I could and tried to muster some dignity.
Yes, I eventually returned to work. My theory was that if I failed to return I'd never live it down. As it is it was a rough shift, let me tell you.
"What did you tell people?" I asked my friend.
"Nothing. Well, Debbie asked why you left so fast."
"What did you tell her?"
He laughed. "I said you had to go home and change your pants because you had an accident."
Great. So the people who didn't see my butt now think I crapped my pants. Only to me folks, only to me.
I went to work this morning dressed for success in a new pair of slacks, freshly polished shoes, and silk shirt. Hey, I'd enjoyed resurrecting the ol' shirt and tie for the Communion, and I wanted to carry it over to the workplace. After all, dress for the job you want, not the one you have.
At work a friend was standing on a windowsill as he tried to lower a sign that normally hangs about ten feet off the ground.
"You're an idiot. Why don't you get a ladder?" I asked.
"I don't need a #@$% ladder, that's why. Get up here and lend me a hand."
I walked beneath the sign and was able to grab a corner as he lowered it, taking some of the weight off of him. It wasn't good enough.
"Dude, get up here and hold this while I grab the wire."
Here's where catastrophe set in. I took a step up onto the windowsill and heard what my buddy later called a "cartoon sound effect".
I'd ripped my pants from the knee to my belt, leaving thigh, crotch, and ass hanging in the breeze.
Cue riotous laughter around me.
I'll say this for me: somewhere along the line, in a lifetime full of humiliation and social miscues, I lost the ability to be embarrassed by such horrific scenes. Really. I reacted with detached fatigue. I let the laughter carry on for a minute.
"Are you going to help me here, or are you going to keep staring at my ass?" I asked.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not holding that together."
"Grab me the tape a**hole."
I wrapped a few pieces of packing tape around my leg and proudly marched across a crowded store at a leisurely pace. I walked into the office, told the boss I had to leave, and strolled back the way I came, then out and across a parking lot.
Somewhere along the first leg of that trip the tape gave way, and for much of the walk I grabbed what I could and tried to muster some dignity.
Yes, I eventually returned to work. My theory was that if I failed to return I'd never live it down. As it is it was a rough shift, let me tell you.
"What did you tell people?" I asked my friend.
"Nothing. Well, Debbie asked why you left so fast."
"What did you tell her?"
He laughed. "I said you had to go home and change your pants because you had an accident."
Great. So the people who didn't see my butt now think I crapped my pants. Only to me folks, only to me.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
MEG: Hell's Aquarium - Info Wanted
No, I haven't read Meg: Hell's Aquarium, I'm just looking for information.
When I saw this on the shelf at Barnes and Noble I was reminded that one of my readers won a contest to have her name appear as a character in this novel. The problem is I can't remember who that was. So if it's you, or you know the answer, let me know.
Oh, and congratulations :)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Cloudy X-Rays but Sunny Skies
I had some good news Tuesday. Or rather, a lack of bad news, which in this case amounts to the same thing. After taking those x-rays a few weeks back I scheduled a follow-up with my physician for mid-May. Two days later the office called and said that the doctor wanted to move the appointment up a significant amount of time. Naturally I asked why.
"I don't know sir," the receptionist said. "He just said he wanted to see you as soon as you were able."
There was more back and forth, and in the end the doc objected even to the new date and moved it up some more. These were x-rays of my back, and while I tried to remain logical, 40% of my brain was convinced they'd found either a tumor or a spot on my lungs. Other than Lisa I told no one and kept it to myself.
Tuesday I waited for an hour in the office before being seen. First things first, the doctor said the x-rays showed arthritis in my neck and throughout my back, with the worst of it in my neck. He asked if I had any pain that extended below the waist, and said if I did he would send me for an MRI and further tests.
I don't have back pain, other than the occasional ache everyone gets, and if they hadn't taken the X-rays I'd have gone twenty more years before suspecting a thing. To my mind, this was/is an irrelevant condition. I vetoed the MRI.
Then he wanted to know if I had ever experienced trauma to the region behind my forehead. That threw me. No, I replied.
"Any surgery, accident . . .anything metal? Shrapnel perhaps?"
I laughed. " Unless aliens kidnapped me and implanted something, the answer's still no. What's this about?"
The doctor looked confused. The x-rays had showed cloudy matter in that region but according to the reports it could not be identified because the shots were blocked by metal shards in my forehead.
WTF??
"Let me see that," I said, and he handed me the one page report from the hospital staff. Yup, he had the gist right. That wasn't good. I read on and was surprised to learn I had been admitted to the ER after an assault. I was even more surprised to find out I was a 24 year old female.
The doc turned red.. "I am sorry, the hospital must have left a page of this woman's report in the fax machine when they sent yours. I apologize, this is a horrible breach of privacy."
Pshff. Fine by me. Bad for the lady with the cloudy brain pic, but gravy baby for me. No need to apologize.
"So do I still have arthritis, or is that her's too?"
Sadly, no go on that. That one's all mine.
All kidding aside, it sucks to spend 40% of your time wondering if you're on the way out. Will the kids remember me? If they do, will I be some idealized notion or a real person to them? Ah, man, if Lisa remarries she'll probably get more years in with him than with me; I should at least have gotten the lion's share. Why didn't I push past the writers block and get a book published? Crap, I hope I don't die before the Lost series finale. Etc. Etc.
Knowing me all this was for naught and I'll continue treading water. But at least in theory it's inspired me to set some things right and get my ass in gear. We'll see if it sticks.
* * * * *
I took a bike ride late Tuesday. It was a cold day, but you always see hippies cruising around on such afternoons. I assumed they had discovered that your body heat keeps you comfortable in that situation. I wore a jacket as I headed out, but was convinced I'd have to shed it soon into the ride.
Bulls**t. F'ing hippies.
It was cold. Damn cold. And you know what? It feels twice as cold when you're cutting through the air at a decent speed. I was an icicle by the time I got home.
F that. I'm sticking to warm days. Period.
"I don't know sir," the receptionist said. "He just said he wanted to see you as soon as you were able."
There was more back and forth, and in the end the doc objected even to the new date and moved it up some more. These were x-rays of my back, and while I tried to remain logical, 40% of my brain was convinced they'd found either a tumor or a spot on my lungs. Other than Lisa I told no one and kept it to myself.
Tuesday I waited for an hour in the office before being seen. First things first, the doctor said the x-rays showed arthritis in my neck and throughout my back, with the worst of it in my neck. He asked if I had any pain that extended below the waist, and said if I did he would send me for an MRI and further tests.
I don't have back pain, other than the occasional ache everyone gets, and if they hadn't taken the X-rays I'd have gone twenty more years before suspecting a thing. To my mind, this was/is an irrelevant condition. I vetoed the MRI.
Then he wanted to know if I had ever experienced trauma to the region behind my forehead. That threw me. No, I replied.
"Any surgery, accident . . .anything metal? Shrapnel perhaps?"
I laughed. " Unless aliens kidnapped me and implanted something, the answer's still no. What's this about?"
The doctor looked confused. The x-rays had showed cloudy matter in that region but according to the reports it could not be identified because the shots were blocked by metal shards in my forehead.
WTF??
"Let me see that," I said, and he handed me the one page report from the hospital staff. Yup, he had the gist right. That wasn't good. I read on and was surprised to learn I had been admitted to the ER after an assault. I was even more surprised to find out I was a 24 year old female.
The doc turned red.. "I am sorry, the hospital must have left a page of this woman's report in the fax machine when they sent yours. I apologize, this is a horrible breach of privacy."
Pshff. Fine by me. Bad for the lady with the cloudy brain pic, but gravy baby for me. No need to apologize.
"So do I still have arthritis, or is that her's too?"
Sadly, no go on that. That one's all mine.
All kidding aside, it sucks to spend 40% of your time wondering if you're on the way out. Will the kids remember me? If they do, will I be some idealized notion or a real person to them? Ah, man, if Lisa remarries she'll probably get more years in with him than with me; I should at least have gotten the lion's share. Why didn't I push past the writers block and get a book published? Crap, I hope I don't die before the Lost series finale. Etc. Etc.
Knowing me all this was for naught and I'll continue treading water. But at least in theory it's inspired me to set some things right and get my ass in gear. We'll see if it sticks.
* * * * *
I took a bike ride late Tuesday. It was a cold day, but you always see hippies cruising around on such afternoons. I assumed they had discovered that your body heat keeps you comfortable in that situation. I wore a jacket as I headed out, but was convinced I'd have to shed it soon into the ride.
Bulls**t. F'ing hippies.
It was cold. Damn cold. And you know what? It feels twice as cold when you're cutting through the air at a decent speed. I was an icicle by the time I got home.
F that. I'm sticking to warm days. Period.
Monday, April 27, 2009
How I spent my weekend
Well, some of it you can deduce by my answers in the 'Game of Eight' in a previous post. But here's the full scoop.
Saturday we had the First Communion retreat for YaYa, who will celebrate her big day next Sunday. It was a very nice time - no really, it was - involving a brief practice, a 20 minute talk from the priest, a fine potluck, and a creative art project: designing a pillar candle for use in the ceremony.
Note all the sequins and whatnot in this photo. When all was said and done Lisa told me to sort out our pile and place them back in the correct slot in the craft box. I agreed, put one away, and then stuck the mess in my pocket. Who's gonna sort out 50 different sequins, ya know? But Lisa caught me and the job was completed as requested.
I think it was a good idea to send her to Sunday School classes at our parish. You may recall there was pressure to join one of the 'cluster' parishes and participate with members of her everyday class. We decided against it, and I think we made the right choice.
A) We like the priest a lot, even if his sermons are 4000X better than his brief and clumbsy attempts at instruction B) she is free of any of the cliques (sic?) that plague her school C) she gets to meet new people and start fresh; heck, start with an edge, as she is well versed in many of the religious topics that are taught.
Plus the Sunday school teacher is very inventive and puts a lot of effort into the job. Case in point, a Powerpoint slideshow of the kids school year that was shown on Saturday. (when YaYa appeared on screen for the first time the kids yelled out "[YaYa]!" - but if you listen to her she's never had a friend here, there, or anywhere in her life).
YaYa admitted it was a good decision and out of the blue thanked us both for sending her there for the classes. And you could tell she relished the one on one time with us. Awwww!
* * * *
Much of the weekend was devoted to preparing for the communinon (although we both went to work Saturday shortly after the retreat ended).
Some time ago we decided to combine the parties for YaYa and my Godchild, as their First Communions are a mere day apart. As such, a month ago we sat down to work on the combined invites. Printed at home on some very nice invitation stationary Lisa got at a great discount, it was a true family affair.
Later in the month Lisa and my sister got together and melted chocolate into coin molds decorated with religious symbols - hands together in prayer, a chalice, and a cross. Sunday night, with Lisa at work, my sister and I sat down to finish the project.
We melted more chocolate, then skewered double-stuff Oreos and dipped them in the bowl, coating them completely. When dry we 'painted' the back of the coins with wet chocolate and 'glued' them to the Oreos. Lisa was pleasantly surprised that we managed to hammer out 70 more or less decent Oreos in the four hours she was gone; she then proceeded to finish the last (perfect) thirty in less than forty-five minutes. *@#$#
Sorry about the poor camera-phone quality of these next few; I'll get good pics at the actual party.
To be fair, the four hours I devoted to the project were interrupted by the kids announcing that the basement was leaking. Right on the heels of the sunny, 70 degree Friday weather we two straight days of torrential downpours. It shouldn't be a big deal - after all, our fine city has paid billiions to redo the sewers - but, uh, oh yeah, they did a crappy job. Every time it storms the streets in the neighborhood flood and if you give it time, that water has to go somewhere - and it's usually in the basements around here.
I got off easy, with a scant 15 gallons or so making its way inside, but I was soooooo ticked at the kids. They were no help at all, and at one point I yelled out: "This ain't your first rodeo, you know what to do! Get over here and give me a hand or you can go to bed right now!"
Ugh.
Where was I? Oh, today we bagged the Oreos, which will serve as a party favor at the Communion.
* * * *
Despite the trouble it brings, I love rain. Not *just* because it ensures that the kids will be inside and in sight, although that does assuage my paranoia. No, I just generally love a rainy day with a hint of cold in the air.
Sunny and warm is fine. But there's nothing so comforting as finding that patch of warmth as you come in from the cold, or the security of a roof over your head when you get out of the rain. And at night, with wind pushing against the window, puddles in the street dancing with rain, and a little jazz on the radio . . . perfect.
Saturday we had the First Communion retreat for YaYa, who will celebrate her big day next Sunday. It was a very nice time - no really, it was - involving a brief practice, a 20 minute talk from the priest, a fine potluck, and a creative art project: designing a pillar candle for use in the ceremony.
Note all the sequins and whatnot in this photo. When all was said and done Lisa told me to sort out our pile and place them back in the correct slot in the craft box. I agreed, put one away, and then stuck the mess in my pocket. Who's gonna sort out 50 different sequins, ya know? But Lisa caught me and the job was completed as requested.
I think it was a good idea to send her to Sunday School classes at our parish. You may recall there was pressure to join one of the 'cluster' parishes and participate with members of her everyday class. We decided against it, and I think we made the right choice.
A) We like the priest a lot, even if his sermons are 4000X better than his brief and clumbsy attempts at instruction B) she is free of any of the cliques (sic?) that plague her school C) she gets to meet new people and start fresh; heck, start with an edge, as she is well versed in many of the religious topics that are taught.
Plus the Sunday school teacher is very inventive and puts a lot of effort into the job. Case in point, a Powerpoint slideshow of the kids school year that was shown on Saturday. (when YaYa appeared on screen for the first time the kids yelled out "[YaYa]!" - but if you listen to her she's never had a friend here, there, or anywhere in her life).
YaYa admitted it was a good decision and out of the blue thanked us both for sending her there for the classes. And you could tell she relished the one on one time with us. Awwww!
* * * *
Much of the weekend was devoted to preparing for the communinon (although we both went to work Saturday shortly after the retreat ended).
Some time ago we decided to combine the parties for YaYa and my Godchild, as their First Communions are a mere day apart. As such, a month ago we sat down to work on the combined invites. Printed at home on some very nice invitation stationary Lisa got at a great discount, it was a true family affair.
Later in the month Lisa and my sister got together and melted chocolate into coin molds decorated with religious symbols - hands together in prayer, a chalice, and a cross. Sunday night, with Lisa at work, my sister and I sat down to finish the project.
We melted more chocolate, then skewered double-stuff Oreos and dipped them in the bowl, coating them completely. When dry we 'painted' the back of the coins with wet chocolate and 'glued' them to the Oreos. Lisa was pleasantly surprised that we managed to hammer out 70 more or less decent Oreos in the four hours she was gone; she then proceeded to finish the last (perfect) thirty in less than forty-five minutes. *@#$#
Sorry about the poor camera-phone quality of these next few; I'll get good pics at the actual party.
To be fair, the four hours I devoted to the project were interrupted by the kids announcing that the basement was leaking. Right on the heels of the sunny, 70 degree Friday weather we two straight days of torrential downpours. It shouldn't be a big deal - after all, our fine city has paid billiions to redo the sewers - but, uh, oh yeah, they did a crappy job. Every time it storms the streets in the neighborhood flood and if you give it time, that water has to go somewhere - and it's usually in the basements around here.
I got off easy, with a scant 15 gallons or so making its way inside, but I was soooooo ticked at the kids. They were no help at all, and at one point I yelled out: "This ain't your first rodeo, you know what to do! Get over here and give me a hand or you can go to bed right now!"
Ugh.
Where was I? Oh, today we bagged the Oreos, which will serve as a party favor at the Communion.
* * * *
Despite the trouble it brings, I love rain. Not *just* because it ensures that the kids will be inside and in sight, although that does assuage my paranoia. No, I just generally love a rainy day with a hint of cold in the air.
Sunny and warm is fine. But there's nothing so comforting as finding that patch of warmth as you come in from the cold, or the security of a roof over your head when you get out of the rain. And at night, with wind pushing against the window, puddles in the street dancing with rain, and a little jazz on the radio . . . perfect.
The Game of Eight
Estella went ahead and tagged me with the Game of Eights, and I'm happy to play along. The rules seem simple: mention who drafted you, complete the lists of 8, and pass the game on to eight others online.
8 Things I am Looking Forward to:
1. Having the day off tomorrow
2. Buying some new clothes for the communion party
3. Going to sleep tonight - I'm tired :)
4. Watching the 'latest' Match Game as soon as I complete #5 on this list
5. Finding the TV remote
6. Seeing my tulips bloom
7. Not having to rely on others - or the bus - for rides with my car in the shop
8. Lisa's return from work tonight
8 Things I Did Yesterday:
1. Pumped water out of my basement
2. Dipped oreos in melted chocolate
3. Posted a few comments on BadgerBlogger
4. Went to HalfPrice Books with Smiley. He was very patient, holding my hand and only occasionally asking "Now Dada?"
5. Bought Smiley a gold hula hoop from Dollar General
6. Bought parchment paper and a yard of fabric from Joann Fabrics
7. Took Ginger, Lisa, and our friend Chris to The Olive Garden
8. Paid my speeding ticket from October the day before it was due
8 Things I Wish I Could Do:
1. Get my printer to work with our desktop PC
2. Find my slippers
3. Find the TV remote
4. Lose some weight
5. Scrape up the guts for a vasectomy
6. Clean the house
7. Find a better job
8. Travel in space
8 Shows I Watch:
1. Match Game
2. Lost
3. American Idol
4. Whatever, Martha
5. Twilight Zone
6. Trading Spaces
7. Naked Science
8. Seconds from Disaster
* * *
Thanks again Estella! As far as tagging eight others: whoever would like to pick up the torch by all means run with it, but I'll leave the decision to you.
Enjoy!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Boring family stuff
A good day today. I didn't eat a single calorie, depriving my stomach of any opportunity to rebel, which allowed me to make it through the work day in relative comfort. A good thing that, as I had the opportunity to speak with a 91 year old customer,born in 1918 - "Nearly ninety-one," she was careful to correct me. "My birthday isn't for awhile yet." She's still driving her own car, writing out her own checks and living life on her terms.
"You sure don't look ninety-one," I said.
"Well, I wouldn't feel it either if I hadn't broken my damn hip last winter."
After work I took advantage of a beautiful 80 degree day to don shorts and break out the bikes. Sadly a leak in the shed led to my bike getting a few spots of rust over its first winter. Still, she did me proud on a 10 minute ride around the neighborhood with YaYa and Ginger. [Lu and Smiley were scattered among the grandparents] The ex-Lump had no recollection of the bike trailer and sat bewildered the whole time, but she'll be a happy passenger in no time.
Now I'd been texted at work with news that the backyard was overrun with gnats. I found this to be a slight exaggeration, but there does seem to be a bit of an issue. So I broke out the ol' standby, a bowl of sugar water with a coating of cooking oil across the top. Bugs come to taste the sweetness and get trapped by the oil.
Once again, despite a decade of experience in the field, people rose up to naysay. To which I respond: folks, by nightfall the dang bowl had more bugs in it than Windows Vista.
After a dinner with Lisa on her break at work, the kids and I hit a local church's basement rummage sale. For ~$4 total we picked up a mass book, a Scrabble dictionary, three decks of cards, a wooden turtle from Jamaica, a clothes steamer, a book light, a wooden jewelry box, a 3-D Titanic puzzle, a Brain Quest trivia game, a childrens book, a wooden frog that you can make croak by rubbing a stick across its spine, and a great camera case worth about $30 alone.
What a deal!
From there we returned home and YaYa and I watched Call of the Wild on DVD. Call of the Wild was one of the first (abridged) classics YaYa read.
"Will you watch it with me Daddy?"
"I really don't want to."
"Why not?"
The real reason was I was tired and sweaty and yearned for a shower. But what I said was: "Because I never finished the book and I don't want to ruin the ending. Someday maybe I'll finish it."
"You can read my copy upstairs."
"Naw, I want to read the adult version."
"Hrumph. Well, it does have 107 pages you know. But I guess that doesn't count."
Checkmate. So we watched Call of the Wild, which turned out to be a sequel called "Foxfire" anyhow. It was ok, and I certainly enjoyed cuddling with YaYa.
Afterwards, when Lisa got home, she quizzed YaYa on the BrainQuest questions and YaYa aced darn near all of them. I gave her a big kiss on the forehead.
"Truly, you are my daughter." I said.
"Half your daughter," Lisa said. "She's much too cool to be your clone."
"You sure don't look ninety-one," I said.
"Well, I wouldn't feel it either if I hadn't broken my damn hip last winter."
After work I took advantage of a beautiful 80 degree day to don shorts and break out the bikes. Sadly a leak in the shed led to my bike getting a few spots of rust over its first winter. Still, she did me proud on a 10 minute ride around the neighborhood with YaYa and Ginger. [Lu and Smiley were scattered among the grandparents] The ex-Lump had no recollection of the bike trailer and sat bewildered the whole time, but she'll be a happy passenger in no time.
Now I'd been texted at work with news that the backyard was overrun with gnats. I found this to be a slight exaggeration, but there does seem to be a bit of an issue. So I broke out the ol' standby, a bowl of sugar water with a coating of cooking oil across the top. Bugs come to taste the sweetness and get trapped by the oil.
Once again, despite a decade of experience in the field, people rose up to naysay. To which I respond: folks, by nightfall the dang bowl had more bugs in it than Windows Vista.
After a dinner with Lisa on her break at work, the kids and I hit a local church's basement rummage sale. For ~$4 total we picked up a mass book, a Scrabble dictionary, three decks of cards, a wooden turtle from Jamaica, a clothes steamer, a book light, a wooden jewelry box, a 3-D Titanic puzzle, a Brain Quest trivia game, a childrens book, a wooden frog that you can make croak by rubbing a stick across its spine, and a great camera case worth about $30 alone.
What a deal!
From there we returned home and YaYa and I watched Call of the Wild on DVD. Call of the Wild was one of the first (abridged) classics YaYa read.
"Will you watch it with me Daddy?"
"I really don't want to."
"Why not?"
The real reason was I was tired and sweaty and yearned for a shower. But what I said was: "Because I never finished the book and I don't want to ruin the ending. Someday maybe I'll finish it."
"You can read my copy upstairs."
"Naw, I want to read the adult version."
"Hrumph. Well, it does have 107 pages you know. But I guess that doesn't count."
Checkmate. So we watched Call of the Wild, which turned out to be a sequel called "Foxfire" anyhow. It was ok, and I certainly enjoyed cuddling with YaYa.
Afterwards, when Lisa got home, she quizzed YaYa on the BrainQuest questions and YaYa aced darn near all of them. I gave her a big kiss on the forehead.
"Truly, you are my daughter." I said.
"Half your daughter," Lisa said. "She's much too cool to be your clone."
Wah wah and boo hoo
I don't want to become Gloomy Gary or Sad Sammy here, but a good 25% of my life seems to be comprised soley of bad luck in recent days. Thankfully the wife and kids continue, even in the moments when I can't stand 'em, to more than balance out the scale.
* * * *
It's been less than 48 hours since discovering my mortgage payment would soar because of local property taxes. Today the Journal reports that despite an influx of $100 million of Obama's stimulus money, MPS (Milwaukee Public Schools) will be asking for an addtional double-digit increase in the property tax levy.
If you follow the link you'll see note a reference to a recent audit of MPS, one that identified numerous black holes in their budget. Memo to the school board: maybe you could close those gaps before you take more $ from my wallet and throw it away.
* * * * *
I got my Escort back from the shop tonight. The verdict: both brake lines had been severed in the area around the drivers seat. The cause? Flying road debris, rust, Lisa getting inventive - who knows?
Anyway, I had the car back twenty minutes before the the exhaust system fell apart. All was quiet one minute, and the next I'm driving in a car making enough decibels to burst your eardrums. It's well and truly undriveable in its current condition. If I drove across town (again) I'd get a ticket in a second.
Sigh.
* * * * *
Smiley missed school today for a required check-up at the Ear/Nose/Throat doctor. His left ear tube has fallen out, which was more or less expected, but in its absence fluid has again returned to plague his eardrum. He'll be put on a prescription and if it doesn't clear up, look for a return to the operating room for more tubes.
* * * *
I was talking to a couple of the guys from work today when they asked me when I was going to go drinking with them.
"Probably when someone asks me to," I said.
"We just did" came the response.
Regretably, I had to say no, not because of my legendary social phobias but because I already felt hungover by the time they asked, courtesy of a damn strong stomach virus.
I last called in sick to work in August of 2000, when I had compacted wisdom teeth pulled out. I should have broke the streak today. I was miserable. Instead I slugged it out and made it through the day, but if things don't improve I'm pulling the trigger and call in Friday.
* * * *
It's been less than 48 hours since discovering my mortgage payment would soar because of local property taxes. Today the Journal reports that despite an influx of $100 million of Obama's stimulus money, MPS (Milwaukee Public Schools) will be asking for an addtional double-digit increase in the property tax levy.
If you follow the link you'll see note a reference to a recent audit of MPS, one that identified numerous black holes in their budget. Memo to the school board: maybe you could close those gaps before you take more $ from my wallet and throw it away.
* * * * *
I got my Escort back from the shop tonight. The verdict: both brake lines had been severed in the area around the drivers seat. The cause? Flying road debris, rust, Lisa getting inventive - who knows?
Anyway, I had the car back twenty minutes before the the exhaust system fell apart. All was quiet one minute, and the next I'm driving in a car making enough decibels to burst your eardrums. It's well and truly undriveable in its current condition. If I drove across town (again) I'd get a ticket in a second.
Sigh.
* * * * *
Smiley missed school today for a required check-up at the Ear/Nose/Throat doctor. His left ear tube has fallen out, which was more or less expected, but in its absence fluid has again returned to plague his eardrum. He'll be put on a prescription and if it doesn't clear up, look for a return to the operating room for more tubes.
* * * *
I was talking to a couple of the guys from work today when they asked me when I was going to go drinking with them.
"Probably when someone asks me to," I said.
"We just did" came the response.
Regretably, I had to say no, not because of my legendary social phobias but because I already felt hungover by the time they asked, courtesy of a damn strong stomach virus.
I last called in sick to work in August of 2000, when I had compacted wisdom teeth pulled out. I should have broke the streak today. I was miserable. Instead I slugged it out and made it through the day, but if things don't improve I'm pulling the trigger and call in Friday.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
American Idol and other Schtuff
Allright, first off I'm having a lousy coupla days here folks. I'm fighting off a mean stomach flu, I'm broke, and my mortgage just went up 16.5%. Oh, I don't have an ARM, in fact I have a nice, very low fixed mortgage. But the city bumped up my taxes last year and apparently looks to again, and so the adjustment of my escrow will all but bury me.
Congrats, you dunderheads in City Hall. As with all the good neighborhoods in Milwaukee, you will soon tax families out of home ownership and drive them to the 'burbs. Within a few years Ritchie Riches from Pewaukee and Whiteman's Bay (er, I mean Whitefish Bay) will own all the houses here and use them as rentals. After a few more years of ignoring their upkeep the area will go to hell, leading to a fallow period before good people step in to 'renew' the block and we'll start the dance all over again.
But at least the taxes go for something good, like . . . yeah. I don't even have a good punchline.
* * * *
On to happier news, a review of last nights American Idol.
I don't know if it was because they unexpectedly had to find time for a 7th contestant or because of format complaints, but I appreciate hearing from all the judges. All we lost in return were the hokey video introductions before each song.
1. Lil - enough America. Send her home. And please, no more excuses on stage and no low-brow opinions yelled out from the audience.
2. Kris - an excellent peformance and an innovative approach. One notch against him in my book is that he and Adam seem to skirt the spirit, if not the letter of the rules. Make Disco or Country or Metallica night all your own, natch, but shouldn't the end result sound something vaguely like the genre it purports to represent? As good as it was, it wasn't disco. It was Kris sampling the lyrics of a disco song.
3. Danny - very solid vocals. He did well, but I do wonder why he must perform hunched over so often. On stage Danny looks like he's trying to mime the letter 'C'. Mayhaps he and I should get an 'All Danny' discount on scoliosis treatment together.
4. Allison - that outfit was too old for a 16 year old, but her vocals were fine. I thought the arrangement was off and as always it all sounded Joplin-y, but whattayagonna do?
5. Adam - Much better than last week, although I think he was indulgent for a second in the middle of the song. Did anyone else think it appeared to end abruptly? Anyhow, well done, but see my Kris comments regarding the arrangement.
6. Matt - I love the guy and his performance was good, but it was the polar opposite of the Kris/Adam sytle. While faithful to the original, it just didn't work.
7. Anoop - Vocally he was pretty good, but the arrangement was off (for me). I also think he dresses a whole lot like the 5th Doctor (Who) Peter Davidson. That's great on the cricket field, but not so wonderful for an American singing competition.
Ok, two go home tonight. My picks: Lil and (sob) Matt. America's picks: Lil for sure, and either Anoop or Matt, with Allison a dark horse.
I say Lil and Matt go home.
Congrats, you dunderheads in City Hall. As with all the good neighborhoods in Milwaukee, you will soon tax families out of home ownership and drive them to the 'burbs. Within a few years Ritchie Riches from Pewaukee and Whiteman's Bay (er, I mean Whitefish Bay) will own all the houses here and use them as rentals. After a few more years of ignoring their upkeep the area will go to hell, leading to a fallow period before good people step in to 'renew' the block and we'll start the dance all over again.
But at least the taxes go for something good, like . . . yeah. I don't even have a good punchline.
* * * *
On to happier news, a review of last nights American Idol.
I don't know if it was because they unexpectedly had to find time for a 7th contestant or because of format complaints, but I appreciate hearing from all the judges. All we lost in return were the hokey video introductions before each song.
1. Lil - enough America. Send her home. And please, no more excuses on stage and no low-brow opinions yelled out from the audience.
2. Kris - an excellent peformance and an innovative approach. One notch against him in my book is that he and Adam seem to skirt the spirit, if not the letter of the rules. Make Disco or Country or Metallica night all your own, natch, but shouldn't the end result sound something vaguely like the genre it purports to represent? As good as it was, it wasn't disco. It was Kris sampling the lyrics of a disco song.
3. Danny - very solid vocals. He did well, but I do wonder why he must perform hunched over so often. On stage Danny looks like he's trying to mime the letter 'C'. Mayhaps he and I should get an 'All Danny' discount on scoliosis treatment together.
4. Allison - that outfit was too old for a 16 year old, but her vocals were fine. I thought the arrangement was off and as always it all sounded Joplin-y, but whattayagonna do?
5. Adam - Much better than last week, although I think he was indulgent for a second in the middle of the song. Did anyone else think it appeared to end abruptly? Anyhow, well done, but see my Kris comments regarding the arrangement.
6. Matt - I love the guy and his performance was good, but it was the polar opposite of the Kris/Adam sytle. While faithful to the original, it just didn't work.
7. Anoop - Vocally he was pretty good, but the arrangement was off (for me). I also think he dresses a whole lot like the 5th Doctor (Who) Peter Davidson. That's great on the cricket field, but not so wonderful for an American singing competition.
Ok, two go home tonight. My picks: Lil and (sob) Matt. America's picks: Lil for sure, and either Anoop or Matt, with Allison a dark horse.
I say Lil and Matt go home.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Loooong and meandering Post
A grade-school friend of mine was ordained as a Priest this past weekend, and it's about time. I remember as kids he'd recite every word of the Mass along with the Priest, as if he was conducting the service himself. I haven't spoken to him in ten years, so I'm not sure why he delayed enlisting, but all the power to him. Congrats Brad!
* * * *
To be honest I'm a little jealous of Brad. As a kid part of me wanted to become a Priest, and I remember playing 'Mass' with my sisters and using the piano bench as an altar. But I knew from an early age it wasn't for me. I've inherited a foul mouth, for one, and I also - let me be blunt - have a decently robust sex drive. During puberty I'd spend a good portion of the Mass staring at the ass of the girls ahead of me as they knelt in prayer. That . . . didn't bode well for celibacy.
* * * *
Regarding my last post, I think I'm going to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and say that his statement, while quoted in the correct context, came off more bigoted than he intended. Maybe he's Catholic himself, or was, and was one of the people scarred by the abuse scandals; who knows?
It is creepy that he sought to mail it to my home. That isn't cool, although again I think he was harmless.
* * * *
You want real religious bigotry? A guy came into my work wearing a t-shirt that read "So many Christians - so few lions".
You are free to believe what you like, but can you imagine the uproar it would cause if he wore a shirt joking about violence towards Jews? Because of the Holocaust he wouldn't dare (instead, he'd no doubt moan about Israel; I do believe many of the people who hate on that state do so as an outlet for their anti-Semitism). Worse yet, can you imagine if he wore a shirt preaching violence against Islam, especially in the mideast?
He wouldn't - because they'd cut off his head. Literally.
And yet I'm willing to bet he doesn't think twice about the value of the First Amendment that grants him his freedom. It's a shame.
* * * *
Speaking of Israel, a word on Hitler, as today was the bitter anniversary of his birth. He was a monster. Period. Why we need to create more reasons to hate the man than those amply provided by WWII is beyond me, but I've seen more than one source in the last few days that sought to do just that.
I picked up a book that took grade school age photos of Hitler and sought to extrapolate intent and evil and malignancy in the eyes of a little kid . Crap like that minimizes the true breadth of his evil and twists it all into a cheap horror film plot. Think The Omen. The book was promptly returned to the shelf.
Then there are several TV specials that seek to establish, somehow/someway, that Hitler was of Jewish descent. I do not comprehend this line of reasoning. They aren't doing it to reason out a new and comprehensive physiological portrait of the man. No, they're doing it because in a twisted way it somehow makes him 'less' than he was, allegedly because if he was indeed of Jewish descent then he was a hypocrite on top of it all. I think we can all agree hypocrisy was the least of his crimes. Isn't that pursuit a dangerous, if unintended slippery slope? Aren't these people saying, in effect, "Hey, guess what? Not only was he an a*hole, but it turns out he was a Jew too! Can you believe that?"
What does it matter??
Maybe I'm too sensitive on the subject. I don't know.
* * * *
One last WWII thing that ticks me off: ignoring Stalin's ills and painting his USSR as a besieged, noble country that rallied to stifle Nazism. Bullshit. Hitler killed millions and dragged the world into war. Easily, easily one of the top three human beings of the century. But Stalin was right up there, and unlike his one-time buddy Adolf, Joe went merrily committing mass murder for decades. Millions were murdered under his rule and few people seem to care, perhaps - and I'll grant this is dark - but perhaps simply because he never got around to waging war against American soldiers and grabbing the media's attention.
And uh, 'poor' Russia not only had a friendship pact with Germany, they invaded Poland in concert with Hitler.
* * * *
Allegedly a true story of WWII, but probably apocryphal: we of course bit our tongue about all those nasty points and supplied the Soviet Union with anything and everything they needed to fight Germany, as they were the only nation capable of bleeding Germany dry through raw numbers. When I say anything and everything I mean exactly that, right down to birth control. The Russians, as a macho snub against the Americans, requested condoms that measured eighteen inches long.
The Americans promptly delivered them as requested. Across each crate was stamped:
Condoms: size Medium
* * * *
In the last few days we marked the tenth anniversary of the Columbine shootings. When it happened I was working third shift. I remember on the night of the attack/early the next morning the newspaper guy came in and dropped off Journal's with the news splashed across the front page. I'd slept through the day itself, never hearing so much as a whisper about the attack.
* * * *
Let's end a bleak post with some happy thoughts: while I was at work Monday Lisa took Ginger for her first ever haircut. She did great and didn't fuss a bit :)
* * * *
To be honest I'm a little jealous of Brad. As a kid part of me wanted to become a Priest, and I remember playing 'Mass' with my sisters and using the piano bench as an altar. But I knew from an early age it wasn't for me. I've inherited a foul mouth, for one, and I also - let me be blunt - have a decently robust sex drive. During puberty I'd spend a good portion of the Mass staring at the ass of the girls ahead of me as they knelt in prayer. That . . . didn't bode well for celibacy.
* * * *
Regarding my last post, I think I'm going to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and say that his statement, while quoted in the correct context, came off more bigoted than he intended. Maybe he's Catholic himself, or was, and was one of the people scarred by the abuse scandals; who knows?
It is creepy that he sought to mail it to my home. That isn't cool, although again I think he was harmless.
* * * *
You want real religious bigotry? A guy came into my work wearing a t-shirt that read "So many Christians - so few lions".
You are free to believe what you like, but can you imagine the uproar it would cause if he wore a shirt joking about violence towards Jews? Because of the Holocaust he wouldn't dare (instead, he'd no doubt moan about Israel; I do believe many of the people who hate on that state do so as an outlet for their anti-Semitism). Worse yet, can you imagine if he wore a shirt preaching violence against Islam, especially in the mideast?
He wouldn't - because they'd cut off his head. Literally.
And yet I'm willing to bet he doesn't think twice about the value of the First Amendment that grants him his freedom. It's a shame.
* * * *
Speaking of Israel, a word on Hitler, as today was the bitter anniversary of his birth. He was a monster. Period. Why we need to create more reasons to hate the man than those amply provided by WWII is beyond me, but I've seen more than one source in the last few days that sought to do just that.
I picked up a book that took grade school age photos of Hitler and sought to extrapolate intent and evil and malignancy in the eyes of a little kid . Crap like that minimizes the true breadth of his evil and twists it all into a cheap horror film plot. Think The Omen. The book was promptly returned to the shelf.
Then there are several TV specials that seek to establish, somehow/someway, that Hitler was of Jewish descent. I do not comprehend this line of reasoning. They aren't doing it to reason out a new and comprehensive physiological portrait of the man. No, they're doing it because in a twisted way it somehow makes him 'less' than he was, allegedly because if he was indeed of Jewish descent then he was a hypocrite on top of it all. I think we can all agree hypocrisy was the least of his crimes. Isn't that pursuit a dangerous, if unintended slippery slope? Aren't these people saying, in effect, "Hey, guess what? Not only was he an a*hole, but it turns out he was a Jew too! Can you believe that?"
What does it matter??
Maybe I'm too sensitive on the subject. I don't know.
* * * *
One last WWII thing that ticks me off: ignoring Stalin's ills and painting his USSR as a besieged, noble country that rallied to stifle Nazism. Bullshit. Hitler killed millions and dragged the world into war. Easily, easily one of the top three human beings of the century. But Stalin was right up there, and unlike his one-time buddy Adolf, Joe went merrily committing mass murder for decades. Millions were murdered under his rule and few people seem to care, perhaps - and I'll grant this is dark - but perhaps simply because he never got around to waging war against American soldiers and grabbing the media's attention.
And uh, 'poor' Russia not only had a friendship pact with Germany, they invaded Poland in concert with Hitler.
* * * *
Allegedly a true story of WWII, but probably apocryphal: we of course bit our tongue about all those nasty points and supplied the Soviet Union with anything and everything they needed to fight Germany, as they were the only nation capable of bleeding Germany dry through raw numbers. When I say anything and everything I mean exactly that, right down to birth control. The Russians, as a macho snub against the Americans, requested condoms that measured eighteen inches long.
The Americans promptly delivered them as requested. Across each crate was stamped:
Condoms: size Medium
* * * *
In the last few days we marked the tenth anniversary of the Columbine shootings. When it happened I was working third shift. I remember on the night of the attack/early the next morning the newspaper guy came in and dropped off Journal's with the news splashed across the front page. I'd slept through the day itself, never hearing so much as a whisper about the attack.
* * * *
Let's end a bleak post with some happy thoughts: while I was at work Monday Lisa took Ginger for her first ever haircut. She did great and didn't fuss a bit :)
Saturday, April 18, 2009
A short Saturday post
It's a beautiful day here in Milwaukee, with summer like temps and an insane amount of sunlight. We even had my father-in-law and his wife stop by to visit in the backyard. And wonder of wonders, my tulips have begun to come up! Having planted them in the midst of our first winter snowstorm I'd have laid money on them being a no-go, but they're hardier than I thought.
* * * * *
I got my first anonymous, non-fan (not hate) mail yesterday. It was mailed to my father, as I'm not in the book, and was a polite handwritten letter responding to my article on Archbishop Dolan. Nothing objectionable in it until the end, where he says "congratulations to your [Lutheran] wife for not being under the spiritual domination" of the Catholic Church.
Ah. There are only two acceptable bigotries in America nowadays, one towards fat people and another towards Catholics. Luckily I'm both.
* * * * *
I work today and have to hit the showers. Later!
* * * * *
I got my first anonymous, non-fan (not hate) mail yesterday. It was mailed to my father, as I'm not in the book, and was a polite handwritten letter responding to my article on Archbishop Dolan. Nothing objectionable in it until the end, where he says "congratulations to your [Lutheran] wife for not being under the spiritual domination" of the Catholic Church.
Ah. There are only two acceptable bigotries in America nowadays, one towards fat people and another towards Catholics. Luckily I'm both.
* * * * *
I work today and have to hit the showers. Later!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
What a lousy day
Ugh, I can't wait for this day to end.
After my last post I took Smiley out to the hospital to get those x-rays of my back. I figured, one, two shots at best - easy peezy fresh and freezy. Nuh-uh. They had me strip to my skivvies and did a busload of x-rays while Smiley sat and flirted with the radiologists. Thank God I'd thought to change my undies before I went.
Then, on the way home my brakes failed.
No warning, no prior problem. I'm rolling along at 30 miles an hour, the light turns red, I go to stop and nothing. Not a thing. I took the pedal all the way to the floor and nada, and then at the last second they kicked in and brought me to a stop mere inches - literally inches - from the guy in front of me.
After that the brake light announced itself and I noticed that there was a trail of liquid behind the car - brake fluid. As I was only half a block from a Walgreens (really, when isn't someone half a block from a Walgreens?) I stopped and put in some fluid I bought there, then continued home at a snails pace. I was careful to stick to side streets and because of this it took me around 40 minutes to cover the 15 minute ride home.
I had that car out of the shop for all of 72 hours. #!@#@$%
Remember, I still had to go pick up those couches. I hooked up with Socialist and headed out to Pewaukee, where Lisa had made arrangements to buy the set from a guy on Craigslist. We went armed with Mapquest directions, directions that were apparently flawed. They took Socialist and I about ten minutes out of the way, ten minutes spent arguing politics. Yay.
He and I got the couch and loveseat to my house, where we struggled to fit the pieces through my door. It was only after the loveseat was in and the couch stuck in the door that I remembered - ok, was prompted by Lisa's friend Jessica - that my new bay windows could be removed completely to accommodate moving furniture. D'oh. In the end, that's how we got the couch to fit.
Then it was on to Socialists house to reload his van with all the tools of his profession. During this time we noticed that three of the couch legs had been left inside his van. I took them home confident the fourth was at home (we'd removed them in front of the house) but so far, we haven't found it.
Great.
When I got home I had to help Lisa carry the old couch out to the curb, and THAT was a big ordeal, with Lisa laying into me for alleged - and by that I mean imaginary - lapses in carrying my share of the load. When we finally got it outside our neighbor to the north rushed over to offer Lisa I hand, but I shooed him away. I was dang ready to see she finished the job she had us start.
The only bright spot of the day were the kids physicals, were they all got a clean bill of health. Ah, but even that has a gray lining, as LuLu came straight from a sleepover with her cousin and showed up for the physical with ratty hair, a dirty shirt, and day old undies. The kicker is I'd called ahead and told them to get her ready for the appointment. Grrreeeaaat impression for the doc, dontcha think?
Friday, where are you????
After my last post I took Smiley out to the hospital to get those x-rays of my back. I figured, one, two shots at best - easy peezy fresh and freezy. Nuh-uh. They had me strip to my skivvies and did a busload of x-rays while Smiley sat and flirted with the radiologists. Thank God I'd thought to change my undies before I went.
Then, on the way home my brakes failed.
No warning, no prior problem. I'm rolling along at 30 miles an hour, the light turns red, I go to stop and nothing. Not a thing. I took the pedal all the way to the floor and nada, and then at the last second they kicked in and brought me to a stop mere inches - literally inches - from the guy in front of me.
After that the brake light announced itself and I noticed that there was a trail of liquid behind the car - brake fluid. As I was only half a block from a Walgreens (really, when isn't someone half a block from a Walgreens?) I stopped and put in some fluid I bought there, then continued home at a snails pace. I was careful to stick to side streets and because of this it took me around 40 minutes to cover the 15 minute ride home.
I had that car out of the shop for all of 72 hours. #!@#@$%
Remember, I still had to go pick up those couches. I hooked up with Socialist and headed out to Pewaukee, where Lisa had made arrangements to buy the set from a guy on Craigslist. We went armed with Mapquest directions, directions that were apparently flawed. They took Socialist and I about ten minutes out of the way, ten minutes spent arguing politics. Yay.
He and I got the couch and loveseat to my house, where we struggled to fit the pieces through my door. It was only after the loveseat was in and the couch stuck in the door that I remembered - ok, was prompted by Lisa's friend Jessica - that my new bay windows could be removed completely to accommodate moving furniture. D'oh. In the end, that's how we got the couch to fit.
Then it was on to Socialists house to reload his van with all the tools of his profession. During this time we noticed that three of the couch legs had been left inside his van. I took them home confident the fourth was at home (we'd removed them in front of the house) but so far, we haven't found it.
Great.
When I got home I had to help Lisa carry the old couch out to the curb, and THAT was a big ordeal, with Lisa laying into me for alleged - and by that I mean imaginary - lapses in carrying my share of the load. When we finally got it outside our neighbor to the north rushed over to offer Lisa I hand, but I shooed him away. I was dang ready to see she finished the job she had us start.
The only bright spot of the day were the kids physicals, were they all got a clean bill of health. Ah, but even that has a gray lining, as LuLu came straight from a sleepover with her cousin and showed up for the physical with ratty hair, a dirty shirt, and day old undies. The kicker is I'd called ahead and told them to get her ready for the appointment. Grrreeeaaat impression for the doc, dontcha think?
Friday, where are you????
Doctor Thursday at the Slapinions house
It's going to be a long day of doctor appointments. I already finished one and found out what I already knew: that last weeks x-ray's showed heel spurs. I guess what was good enough for Joltin' Joe is good enough for me.
But I also discussed my back with the doc. I was diagnosed with scoliosis as a kid but was told it was too mild to be treated. Eh, that reeks of bulls**t in hindsight, but either way its gotten much more pronounced lately. The doc checked my spine, noted a curvature to the right, rattled off some Latin into his digital recorder and said "Your left side is shorter, correct?"
"Left side of what? My whole left side? I don't know, I've never measured."
He nodded briskly. "It is shorter. Note how your left shoulder sits below your right. You must go for x-rays."
So in a few minutes its back out to West Allis to get the ol' spine zapped.
Meanwhile, Lisa has developed an abscess above a troublesome tooth, which is naturally a concern for us all. Oh, and all three of the older kids have scheduled physicals for this afternoon and I'm supposed to drive to Pewaukee this evening to pick up a new couch.
Fun times, fun times.
But I also discussed my back with the doc. I was diagnosed with scoliosis as a kid but was told it was too mild to be treated. Eh, that reeks of bulls**t in hindsight, but either way its gotten much more pronounced lately. The doc checked my spine, noted a curvature to the right, rattled off some Latin into his digital recorder and said "Your left side is shorter, correct?"
"Left side of what? My whole left side? I don't know, I've never measured."
He nodded briskly. "It is shorter. Note how your left shoulder sits below your right. You must go for x-rays."
So in a few minutes its back out to West Allis to get the ol' spine zapped.
Meanwhile, Lisa has developed an abscess above a troublesome tooth, which is naturally a concern for us all. Oh, and all three of the older kids have scheduled physicals for this afternoon and I'm supposed to drive to Pewaukee this evening to pick up a new couch.
Fun times, fun times.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday Update
Well, a Wednesday update as it's after midnight, but who's counting? I'm back online, courtesy of YaYa's Godfather, who restored my old desktop up to factory default after being on the sidelines for several months. I've had to swipe a 10 year old monitor from a computer the kids sometimes goof around with, since the monitor is kaput, but at least we're online. Alas, it does not look good for the computer that Smiley may/may not have vandalized. That laptop might be KIA. Keep your fingers crossed.
And if I didn't say it loud enough - THANKS MAN! Those Sprecher's will be in your hands shortly! (Pick 'n Save only had the low cal)
* * * *
Plenty of pics from this past weekend, from the traditional Good Friday Easter Egg Dyeing to the baskets of Easter morn and a trip to the park I took with Smiley. I'll get those up (knock on wood) once I get my software reloaded on my desktop.
* * * * *
My Escort has also returned to active duty. While still needing a strut in the back it's running, and not taking the bus feels sooooo good. Now we'll have to get the van in for a tunep and an alignment.
* * * * *
YaYa has declared her intention of doing something 'different' with her life. Her stated career options are as follows: actress, writer, firefighter, astronaut, and NTSB air accident investigator.
* * * * *
Thursday YaYa went with me to the hospital to get x-rays to ID/eliminate bone spurs as the cause of the constant pain in my left foot. She got to sit with the nurses and view the x-rays, which she thought was cool, but was slightly embarrassed when we left.
"Dad, your foot stank. The whole room smelled when you were done."
And if I didn't say it loud enough - THANKS MAN! Those Sprecher's will be in your hands shortly! (Pick 'n Save only had the low cal)
* * * *
Plenty of pics from this past weekend, from the traditional Good Friday Easter Egg Dyeing to the baskets of Easter morn and a trip to the park I took with Smiley. I'll get those up (knock on wood) once I get my software reloaded on my desktop.
* * * * *
My Escort has also returned to active duty. While still needing a strut in the back it's running, and not taking the bus feels sooooo good. Now we'll have to get the van in for a tunep and an alignment.
* * * * *
YaYa has declared her intention of doing something 'different' with her life. Her stated career options are as follows: actress, writer, firefighter, astronaut, and NTSB air accident investigator.
* * * * *
Thursday YaYa went with me to the hospital to get x-rays to ID/eliminate bone spurs as the cause of the constant pain in my left foot. She got to sit with the nurses and view the x-rays, which she thought was cool, but was slightly embarrassed when we left.
"Dad, your foot stank. The whole room smelled when you were done."
Thursday, April 9, 2009
He-Haw
Man, I'm tickled pink!
Today the mailman delivered two envelopes from the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. Inside of each was a 'fan' letter to me that was mailed to the newspaper and then forwarded to my home. Unfortunately, I'd ripped open the first envelope thinking it was my check, then got so excited after reading the letter that I greedily tore open the second. That's a pity, because I would have liked to have preserved it for my future musuem. Ah well. :)
* * *
Bridgett - I read your comment on Scott's departure before having a chance to watch the recorded show. No matter - it was actually a better viewing experience, as I didn't have to sweat out the Anoop-Scott drama. As for his early departure, I think the top five *has* to be Adam, Danny, Allison, and Matt, with Kris or Anoop battling it out for the numero cinco. Long story short, whether he went home this week or next, the exit was coming soon.
* * *
Another reason I'm excited: for the first time in a few weeks the whole Slapinions family will have the opportunity to sit down and enjoy a real dinner together. That's odd that it's odd, as from the time of YaYa's birth on we ALWAYS shared dinner together, and 99% of the time, no matter the entree, fruits and vegetables were on the plate.
I don't think I've seen a vegetable that wasn't sliced and on top of a meat patty in a week. Some parts of working evenings SUCK.
My criteria tonight is firm: meat, starch, veggies, and a fruit. Oh man, I can't wait.
Today the mailman delivered two envelopes from the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. Inside of each was a 'fan' letter to me that was mailed to the newspaper and then forwarded to my home. Unfortunately, I'd ripped open the first envelope thinking it was my check, then got so excited after reading the letter that I greedily tore open the second. That's a pity, because I would have liked to have preserved it for my future musuem. Ah well. :)
* * *
Bridgett - I read your comment on Scott's departure before having a chance to watch the recorded show. No matter - it was actually a better viewing experience, as I didn't have to sweat out the Anoop-Scott drama. As for his early departure, I think the top five *has* to be Adam, Danny, Allison, and Matt, with Kris or Anoop battling it out for the numero cinco. Long story short, whether he went home this week or next, the exit was coming soon.
* * *
Another reason I'm excited: for the first time in a few weeks the whole Slapinions family will have the opportunity to sit down and enjoy a real dinner together. That's odd that it's odd, as from the time of YaYa's birth on we ALWAYS shared dinner together, and 99% of the time, no matter the entree, fruits and vegetables were on the plate.
I don't think I've seen a vegetable that wasn't sliced and on top of a meat patty in a week. Some parts of working evenings SUCK.
My criteria tonight is firm: meat, starch, veggies, and a fruit. Oh man, I can't wait.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
A list, some congrats, and a nasty howling wind
As I write this the wind is howling like mad outside my window, battering against the glass as if I were living in a moody Gothic novel set on a Scottish moor. It is easily the most aggressive windstorm I've experienced since moving into this house.
[We were 'supposed' to get up to six inches of snow Sunday, an amount then downgraded to two to four inches, and then to none as the storm never bothered to arrive. It's like the meteorologists are trying desperately to validate my tongue-in-cheek column, but I'll gladly thank the heavens for nixing the white stuff, thank you very much.]
There is beauty in most things on this Earth, and the wind is no exception. I was reading Smiley a book when I glanced up through his skylight. The bare tree branches were an impressive sight as they fought against the wind, a sight that took our attention off the pages for several minutes.
* * * *
Kudos to my father, who told me today that he'd re-enrolled at UW-Milwaukee in hopes of completing his degree. It's contingent on financial aid, but I'm very proud of him.
* * * *
YaYa is compiling a list of all the books she's ever read, mimicking my own efforts. For the sake of keeping the obsession alive, and because it was a school assignment for her, here are all the books we read to LuLu in March (or rather, all the books we could find when I set out to make the list):
Dora: The Windy Day by Quinlan B Lee
Lady Lovely Locks and the PixieTails: The Golden Ball by Harriet Marcelle
Five Little Monkeys Sitting in a Tree by Eileen Christelow
Walt Disney's Cinderella
Clifford's Puppy Day's: A Snowy Christmas by Quinlan B Lee
Dear Barbie: Too Many Puppies by Lisa Trusiani Parker
Disney's Beauty and the Beast - The Teapots Tale by Justine Korman
Disney's Enchanted: Before the Fall by Tennant Redbank
CareBears: What Makes you Happy? By JE Bright
Goodtimes Storybook Classic: Snow White by Carl Baldassarre
Barbie: Freckles by Mona Miller
Clifford's Spring Clean-Up by Norman Bridwell
Disney's The Little Mermad See/Hear/Read Book
Goodbye Geese by Nancy White Carlstrom
One and just in case I don't get around to a Smiley list: we read Rooftop Christmas tonight.
[We were 'supposed' to get up to six inches of snow Sunday, an amount then downgraded to two to four inches, and then to none as the storm never bothered to arrive. It's like the meteorologists are trying desperately to validate my tongue-in-cheek column, but I'll gladly thank the heavens for nixing the white stuff, thank you very much.]
There is beauty in most things on this Earth, and the wind is no exception. I was reading Smiley a book when I glanced up through his skylight. The bare tree branches were an impressive sight as they fought against the wind, a sight that took our attention off the pages for several minutes.
* * * *
Kudos to my father, who told me today that he'd re-enrolled at UW-Milwaukee in hopes of completing his degree. It's contingent on financial aid, but I'm very proud of him.
* * * *
YaYa is compiling a list of all the books she's ever read, mimicking my own efforts. For the sake of keeping the obsession alive, and because it was a school assignment for her, here are all the books we read to LuLu in March (or rather, all the books we could find when I set out to make the list):
Dora: The Windy Day by Quinlan B Lee
Lady Lovely Locks and the PixieTails: The Golden Ball by Harriet Marcelle
Five Little Monkeys Sitting in a Tree by Eileen Christelow
Walt Disney's Cinderella
Clifford's Puppy Day's: A Snowy Christmas by Quinlan B Lee
Dear Barbie: Too Many Puppies by Lisa Trusiani Parker
Disney's Beauty and the Beast - The Teapots Tale by Justine Korman
Disney's Enchanted: Before the Fall by Tennant Redbank
CareBears: What Makes you Happy? By JE Bright
Goodtimes Storybook Classic: Snow White by Carl Baldassarre
Barbie: Freckles by Mona Miller
Clifford's Spring Clean-Up by Norman Bridwell
Disney's The Little Mermad See/Hear/Read Book
Goodbye Geese by Nancy White Carlstrom
One and just in case I don't get around to a Smiley list: we read Rooftop Christmas tonight.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
A little bit of this and that
Smiley stole a lit incense stick of ours and strolled around the house waving it like a sparkler. Natually, I took it away the minute Lisa caught sight of him.
No big deal, but you'll have to remember that Smiley still deals with a very bad speech problem. Because of this he ran around in tears yelling "Me dick mama. Me dick. Dada 'ook me dick", and growing increasingly angry when we laughed.
Good thing we didn't take it away from him in a crowded mall, huh?
* * * *
April Fools to me: My DVR failed to record Lost while I was at work, citing a scheduling conflict between High School Reunion and Whatever, Matha. *&#@#$
* * * *
To all friends/family - my cell phone is on the fritz. Sprint is replacing it free of charge, but until Monday or Tuesday you'll have to reach me on the landline.
* * * * *
Because Lisa and I both worked until late Friday evening, we found ourselves with the kids scattered among the grandparents and not one left at home. Hot dog! For the first time in years we hit the road and went out for dinner after midnight, winding up at Jalisco's ~1 a.m.
It was glorious. Not the food (which was good) but being out and about with no little booger-maker to slow us down. :)
No big deal, but you'll have to remember that Smiley still deals with a very bad speech problem. Because of this he ran around in tears yelling "Me dick mama. Me dick. Dada 'ook me dick", and growing increasingly angry when we laughed.
Good thing we didn't take it away from him in a crowded mall, huh?
* * * *
April Fools to me: My DVR failed to record Lost while I was at work, citing a scheduling conflict between High School Reunion and Whatever, Matha. *&#@#$
* * * *
To all friends/family - my cell phone is on the fritz. Sprint is replacing it free of charge, but until Monday or Tuesday you'll have to reach me on the landline.
* * * * *
Because Lisa and I both worked until late Friday evening, we found ourselves with the kids scattered among the grandparents and not one left at home. Hot dog! For the first time in years we hit the road and went out for dinner after midnight, winding up at Jalisco's ~1 a.m.
It was glorious. Not the food (which was good) but being out and about with no little booger-maker to slow us down. :)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
This and That as I wait for Lisa
A slight change of plans. Lisa and my sister have decided to go late-night shopping again, leaving my American Idol plans on hold. How will I fill the time? Why, the way I mentioned under 'ways you relax' on that application earlier: by blogging.
My wife's step-mother was able to move back home yesterday, thirteen days after her arrival with us. By the end Lisa was exhausted, but I was pretty comfortable. Unlike Lisa I wasn't a child when I met her step-mom. I'm largely the same Danny she was introduced to in 1995, and so I bear no burden of trying to shake off a quarter century old first impression made in childhood. Nor did I have to aid her in any personal grooming, which Lisa did each day. Lord knows that can wear a person down.
I'm glad to have my couch back, but she was good company. I certainly think it was a good thing for her relationship with the kids, and vice versa.
* * * * *
As my upcoming 35th birthday approached, I decided to go in for a physical. I don't consciously avoid them, but when I thought about it it had been five years or more since my last one (note: that's code for ten years) Time to bite the bullet.
So: Kidney, thyroid and liver functions are good. My cholesterol is 106, but my 'good' version is a bit low. Blood pressure surprisingly good. I'm obese (really? Hadn't noticed doc) but lost three pounds between the day of the blood draw and the follow-up a few weeks later.
I have flat feet - my Dad was always grateful, saying it'd keep me out of the draft -and possible bone spurs in my constantly aching left foot. X-Rays await, but I have to find the time first.
About that blood pressure reading. Every time I go to the doctor they take a second look at my weight and shake off the blood pressure results as improbable. This time they felt compelled to take it three times before raising their eyebrows and jotting it down. Never fear medical professionals: the blood pressure might be good, but the ol' brain is still screwed up enough to put $ in your pockets for years to come.
* * *
Last Tuesday LuLu read a petition during Mass and aced it. Good job girl!
* * * *
Both LuLu and Smiley won't go to bed unless I read to them now, which is a great sign of future readers. Meanwhile YaYa has begun a list of every book she's ever read, just like her old man.
* * * * * *
My wife's step-mom yesterday: "I can see why you call her Lump. The girl can't stay on her feet for more than a minute without cracking her head."
At which point, I kid you not, the Lump took her cue and fell to the floor. She bumped her head on the ottoman, rubbed it briefly, then got up and walked away.
Lump's trouble by the way, a true YaYa Jr. She'll dance half the day away, especially if you say "Do the [Lump], Do the [Lump]" but the rest of the time she's busy destroying. She stuck a paintbrush in the glue bottle, upended a box of cereal, tried to play in the toilet, tossed toys down the stairs, spilled soda, hit Smiley, threw a sippy cup 1000 times, spit food at people and giggled, and upended a plate of food.
All that, my readers, in one afternoon.
My wife's step-mother was able to move back home yesterday, thirteen days after her arrival with us. By the end Lisa was exhausted, but I was pretty comfortable. Unlike Lisa I wasn't a child when I met her step-mom. I'm largely the same Danny she was introduced to in 1995, and so I bear no burden of trying to shake off a quarter century old first impression made in childhood. Nor did I have to aid her in any personal grooming, which Lisa did each day. Lord knows that can wear a person down.
I'm glad to have my couch back, but she was good company. I certainly think it was a good thing for her relationship with the kids, and vice versa.
* * * * *
As my upcoming 35th birthday approached, I decided to go in for a physical. I don't consciously avoid them, but when I thought about it it had been five years or more since my last one (note: that's code for ten years) Time to bite the bullet.
So: Kidney, thyroid and liver functions are good. My cholesterol is 106, but my 'good' version is a bit low. Blood pressure surprisingly good. I'm obese (really? Hadn't noticed doc) but lost three pounds between the day of the blood draw and the follow-up a few weeks later.
I have flat feet - my Dad was always grateful, saying it'd keep me out of the draft -and possible bone spurs in my constantly aching left foot. X-Rays await, but I have to find the time first.
About that blood pressure reading. Every time I go to the doctor they take a second look at my weight and shake off the blood pressure results as improbable. This time they felt compelled to take it three times before raising their eyebrows and jotting it down. Never fear medical professionals: the blood pressure might be good, but the ol' brain is still screwed up enough to put $ in your pockets for years to come.
* * *
Last Tuesday LuLu read a petition during Mass and aced it. Good job girl!
* * * *
Both LuLu and Smiley won't go to bed unless I read to them now, which is a great sign of future readers. Meanwhile YaYa has begun a list of every book she's ever read, just like her old man.
* * * * * *
My wife's step-mom yesterday: "I can see why you call her Lump. The girl can't stay on her feet for more than a minute without cracking her head."
At which point, I kid you not, the Lump took her cue and fell to the floor. She bumped her head on the ottoman, rubbed it briefly, then got up and walked away.
Lump's trouble by the way, a true YaYa Jr. She'll dance half the day away, especially if you say "Do the [Lump], Do the [Lump]" but the rest of the time she's busy destroying. She stuck a paintbrush in the glue bottle, upended a box of cereal, tried to play in the toilet, tossed toys down the stairs, spilled soda, hit Smiley, threw a sippy cup 1000 times, spit food at people and giggled, and upended a plate of food.
All that, my readers, in one afternoon.
Just to Clear Up a Facebook BooBoo
Today birthday wishes kept coming in. Here's the problem: it's not my birthday.
True, it is right around the corner [on Thursday the 19th] but the messages all specified tomorrow as the big day.
The source of the error falls on my shoulders. Apparently my little-used Facebook account lists the 18th as my birthday. Maybe it was an honest mistake, or else I might have fudged it in a paranoid 'Big Brother' moment.
[When I corrected one person they asked "Are you sure?". To give them the benefit of the doubt: I've forgotten much of those pesky womb days, so no. No, I'm not 100% sure. But I'm most of the way there :)]
Either way, a big and heartfelt thank you to Slapinions readers Joann and Jeanne!
* * * *
I spent the better part of the night completing essays required for a job I'm pursuing. Two bleepin' hours - closer to three really. If I don't get it I should at least win a merit badge for sticking out the application process.
* * * * *
A small thing that bothered me like a grain of sand in the eye:
Recently I wasted an hour of my life fascinated by a special about a 1969 Vietnam war battle at a Special Forces camp. The Military Channel went all out to sell this as a 'must see'. They gathered the survivors of the battle together. They had archival footage from both the American and NVA sides. They had splashy computer graphics. I agree with showing all of that. I'm thankful for their comprehensive and professional presentation.
The problem: they said, a dozen times, that this was one of the most vital and costly battles of that era. Then at the very end of the show they revealed the death toll: two Americans and seven NVA.
Please, for the duration of this post, put aside the reflexive 'All lives count.'. Of course. But from a historical point of view, nine dead isn't a battle. It's barely a decent Vietnam era skirmish considering the NVA attacked a fortified and armouored position head-on.
I didn't need a huge death toll to find the show interesting. I would have been fine with the truth, or even if miraculously everyone went home unscathed. I just don't like being misled to think this was Midway revisted, in both casualties and importance. Some kid probably walked away from the TV thinking that skirmish ranks up there with Tet as a turning point of the war. That bothers me.
Anway, enough of that. I'm off to watch AI and post about it later.
True, it is right around the corner [on Thursday the 19th] but the messages all specified tomorrow as the big day.
The source of the error falls on my shoulders. Apparently my little-used Facebook account lists the 18th as my birthday. Maybe it was an honest mistake, or else I might have fudged it in a paranoid 'Big Brother' moment.
[When I corrected one person they asked "Are you sure?". To give them the benefit of the doubt: I've forgotten much of those pesky womb days, so no. No, I'm not 100% sure. But I'm most of the way there :)]
Either way, a big and heartfelt thank you to Slapinions readers Joann and Jeanne!
* * * *
I spent the better part of the night completing essays required for a job I'm pursuing. Two bleepin' hours - closer to three really. If I don't get it I should at least win a merit badge for sticking out the application process.
* * * * *
A small thing that bothered me like a grain of sand in the eye:
Recently I wasted an hour of my life fascinated by a special about a 1969 Vietnam war battle at a Special Forces camp. The Military Channel went all out to sell this as a 'must see'. They gathered the survivors of the battle together. They had archival footage from both the American and NVA sides. They had splashy computer graphics. I agree with showing all of that. I'm thankful for their comprehensive and professional presentation.
The problem: they said, a dozen times, that this was one of the most vital and costly battles of that era. Then at the very end of the show they revealed the death toll: two Americans and seven NVA.
Please, for the duration of this post, put aside the reflexive 'All lives count.'. Of course. But from a historical point of view, nine dead isn't a battle. It's barely a decent Vietnam era skirmish considering the NVA attacked a fortified and armouored position head-on.
I didn't need a huge death toll to find the show interesting. I would have been fine with the truth, or even if miraculously everyone went home unscathed. I just don't like being misled to think this was Midway revisted, in both casualties and importance. Some kid probably walked away from the TV thinking that skirmish ranks up there with Tet as a turning point of the war. That bothers me.
Anway, enough of that. I'm off to watch AI and post about it later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)