Just Stuff

Criminy, it's been a busy few days.



* I knocked out a ghost story called A Shadow of a Distant Life for a local suburb's writing contest. Grand prize: publication in a book that'll be available for rent in their library system and a public reading. Not exactly a game-changer, but it felt damn good to devote some time to fiction, regardless of the contest's outcome.



* As money is super-tight, we've started to actively chip away at clearance sales and whatnot to get Christmas under control. I was about to detail some of the deals, but YaYa sometimes reads this, so . . . ixnay.



* We ran out of gas in the van and had to push it a good block and a half on a busy street. Not a pleasant experience, that. When we got to the actual filling station the slope was proving too much, but a Good Samaritan came and helped me get it over the (literal) hump. A moment later a woman, noticing our problem, moved her car so as to allow us easier access to a pump. I thanked both of them in the little Spanish I know and said a well deserved prayer of thanks for both of them.



* Good riddance to Johnny Sakalis on Project Runway. Not only a hack, but a liar too. BTW, they should dump Nina Garcia and keep Marie Claire's Zoe Glassner. I'll be damned if I can find a decent picture of her on the web, but every time she appears on screen I gasp and say "omg she's cute!". I mean *every* time, something that has worn a little thin on Lisa's nerves (imagine that).

* LuLu has been plagued with a deep cough and unproductive sleep for some time, and we've had a handful of doctor visits about it in the last month. Long story short, she's been diagnosed with asthma, which runs on both sides of the family, and several bad allergies.

After further testing, she has been determined to be allergic to: tree pollen (slightly), mosquito bites, ragweed (slightly), dust mites (incredibly so), shellfish (there's a relationship to dust mites there I'm told), and cats (highly).

We've put a allergy cover on both her mattress and pillows, banned the cats from her room, and put our large HEPA air filter near her door. We're not going to molley-coddle this, and she WILL be doing everything she would be doing otherwise, but our heart does go out to her.

The good news? The doc thinks that once her allergies improve so will her sleep, and her grumpiness.

* I ran into the daughter of the founder of Mazo's, an iconic hamburger stand on the south side that's been in business since before WWII. I suggested they add the ability to add credit card payments. How practical, I said, is a cash-only business in this day and age? She actually seemed to consider it and pronounced it a smart idea. We'll see if it's implemented.

* Smiley had an eye appointment, and not only came away with "perfect eyes" but pronounced each word to the doctor so clearly it made Lisa tear up. :)

* I spoke with someone who attended the 10,000 strong Tea Rally held yesterday in Milwaukee. I was working, but from what she said it was a hell of a good time and guest speaker Michelle Malkin rocked it. (you can ck out Malkin's blog on my sidebar).

Ghosts and killers and Mick Jagger, oh my!

Man I'm beat. We didn't get a good rest at all overnight. It wasn't the darkness, but the lack of 'white noise'. Sleeping without power is not the same as turning everything off; a house with electricity feels different than one without. I was very happy that the smoke dissipated by daybreak, allowing me to flip the breakers to the upstairs bedrooms.

It didn't help that our resident ghost made him/herself known at around 3:30, waking me and Lisa with the sound of someone tripping over a box in our room. I was up and out of bed in a flash, thinking the worst, but as always the room was empty. As a cynic, I say the cat was to blame (but this time it sure was loud for a feline. Hell, it was loud for a T-Rex)

After dropping the kids off at school I drove my Dad down to UWM, where he's returned for a few classes. I had some business to attend to there as well, so it wasn't strictly altruistic. I forgot how chaotic the campus is on the first day of classes - and how many attractive women enroll there.

Much later I cut the lawn and played outside with the little ones while Lisa prepared a great dinner of stuffed peppers.

* * * *

I was right about the Obama speech. None of my kids saw the telecast, and in fact of the dozen school age kids that comprise our immediate circle, scattered throughout six schools (private and public), only three saw the speech.

Oh, and to those on the left pouncing on the criticism of the event: when GHW Bush gave his speech, Dems went much further, launching a money wasting congressional investigation.

* * * *

I talked to a guy the other day who atttended the November 11, 1964 Rolling Stones show here in Milwaukee. He was 15 at the time, it was not even close to a sellout, and he still counts it as one of his favorite memories.

* * *

Here's the face of Milwaukee's alleged North Side Strangler, Walter Ellis.



Neighbors say Ellis was an extremely violent young teen, and kids would literally run past his house rather than risk a confrontation. Still, all agree he mellowed into a 'nice' man as an adult.

In other words, around the time the killings began more than twenty years ago.

* * **

At work a man came in and bought a paper. He asked what the headline was about (it was obscured by an advertising supplement). I told him the serial killer had been caught.

"Really?", he said.

"Seems so," I said.

"Did they happen to mention his name?"

"Walter Ellis"

"Ahhh . . .I'm afraid I don't know the gentleman, thank heavens." he said, this tiny little grin forming in one corner of his mouth.

"You know," he said, "I've always wondered what it takes to do things like that. To repeat horrific acts year after year, just for the sake of satisfying your own inner demons."

"I guess we'll never know," I said.

"Yes. A good thing too, don't you think?" he said, a twinkle in his eye. He offered his goodbyes and left.

I turned to a co-worker that had overheard part of the conversation.

"Hey," I said. "If Ellis turns out to be innocent, that guy's the killer. Guaranteed."

Fat Pencils, Stuffed Peppers, The Who, and the Meaning of Life

It's been a long but not unhappy day so far. For starters I went to bed around 1:30, which was pretty stupid considering I had to work in the morning. Worse yet, I woke up every ninety minutes or so. Although I had no problems falling back asleep each time, it SUCKED.

Then I went to work, which went ok. Afterwards I was sent on some last minute school shopping, since the girls go back to school tomorrow. We had put their school supplies on layaway six weeks ago, paid it off and took it home last week, and patted ourselves on the back for being responsible. We were done. Except it turns out we weren't. No matter how hard you try, something always slips through the cracks. It helps support my notion of (what I believe is) the true meaning of life:

Life exists for one reason, and one reason only: to F' up your day. Still, it's much better than the alternative.

I was looking for 'fat pencils', wide pencils demanded by LuLu's teacher. When I was a kid we used normal sized pencils with rubber triangle holders, but in 2009 the sophisticated first grader must have a 'fat pencil' to master the art of writing.

Walgreens didn't have them. Neither did Target, Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Dollar General, Office Max, or Family Dollar. I'm told they're sold out throughout the city. It figures. But I did manage to score a cool pair of shoes for Lu at Wal-Mart for a mere ten spot. Hot dog!

Sidenote: I've always thought it counter-intuitive that wider items are easier for LITTLE hands to handle, and narrow widths easier for BIG HANDS. It even hold true in baseball, where peewee bats have monster handles, and adult versions narrow ones.

Sidenote #2: My mother-in-law dropped off a stuffed pepper for me. Yummy! Thanks Jeanne!

Anywho, here's a little Who for no particular reason whatsoever. This is Baba O'Reily, performed live in what I presume is the '70's. Check out Townsends energetic persona. It's a hoot.




Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven

Don't cry
Don't raise your eye
It's only teenage wasteland

Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Don't look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Let's get together
Before we get much older

Teenage wasteland
It's only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
They're all wasted!

Just a bunch of random junk. And corn dogs.

Less then 24 hours until the new season of Project Runway starts people! Set your DVR's now!

* * * * *

Regarding my Favre post: no, I don't think I was being extreme at all. I don't want the man to literally taste the fires of hell, but he can suck a** if he expects me to think kindly of him. I have respect for what he did on the field for us for more than a decade. But respect for him as a person? Nuh-uh.

Early in the year he says he's done, an outright lie that frees him of his obligation to the Jets. Then he starts his "maybe I'll play" routine. July 28th he retires and says a whole bunch of stuff about how he's done, physically and emotionally.

Then - he alleges - twenty days later the Vikings coach calls him on a whim (on a whim!) and poof! he's a Viking. A man that takes four weeks to decide whether to buy a Snickers or a Milky Way decides on the spot to move his family to Minnesota for six months. He's suited up and on the field within 24 hours.

Gag.

Here's the truth of the matter. He agreed to sign with the Vikings in June or July, (and I'll sell you a bridge if you don't think it's to take a whack at Green Bay.) But signing then meant he'd have to participate in the 2-a-day practices, and that ain't happening.

Soooo . . . he gets special treatment and is allowed to miss that time, but to cover their tracks and preserve the idea that he's not a prima-donna and the coach has control, they play dumb for a month.

As the Journal so eloquently put it: Minnesota, the Ego has landed.

* * * *

My friend Erv is in town and for two nights in a row we've played Halo on his X-Box, and have rescued the captain and are on the hunt. Great game, but I can see why Lisa bans video games from the house. They are addictive and would be a true sore spot in our marriage.

* * * **

I took the baby for her two-year checkup and shots the other day. I remember she weighs 28 pounds, but I forget her height. Anyhow, all is well. They asked me about he appetite and I told them what I wrote on Facebook:

How much can a 20#'er eat? Corn dogs, carrots, a granola bar, some salad, an apple, cereal, waffles . . now she just raided the fridge and brought me a jar of peanut butter and cream cheese. YOU ARE TWO. YOU DO NOT HAVE A TAPEWORM. GO WATCH ELMO. Ugh.
Update: she just walked into the room wearing a bagel on each wrist like they were bracelets.

* * * *

I went to a movie with my cousin Jon, the first time I've seen or spoken to him in more then three years. We were very close friends for a decade. I hope we can regain some of that friendship.

A frog, a turtle, two cats, four kids . . .

Today was a productive day off, and a productive day usually means a good day for me. This one certainly fit the bill.

For starters, Lisa and I got to sleep in an hour. It was at the cost of the kitchen being trashed by the kids, but it was well worth it. Then, with my nephew watching the baby (he returned home from Cape Cod in the evening and crashed on my couch) the rest of us piled in the van and went birthday shopping for Ginger. All of us except YaYa I mean, as she stayed at my parent's place overnight.

Toys R Us was a little depressing. The kids were just overwhelmed by the store.. It wasn't "Ooooh, I want this!" it was "Ooooh, I didn't know they made dolls named Barbie. Are they new to the market?"

I guess I should take them out more often.

At Wal-Mart we replaced YaYa's dear departed fish with a Beta. She had requested a "Blue one with a shredded tail" i.e. a blue male crowntail, and we picked it up for her.

After a few more stops I dropped the family off at home and took LuLu to the doctor. She's been waking up at night with horrible coughing fits and wheezing, and since a co-worker of mine was officially a victim of the swine-flu, I just wanted to play hypochondriac parent.

The verdict? No swine flu, but she may have asthma. They prescribed an inhaler and mask and want to see her again to (hopefully) elminate it as a true cause of the persistent cough. It seems to have helped tonight, as she appears to be resting comfortably. She's been having such a rough time sleeping that the bags under her eyes could double as canvas totes.

Immediately afterwards I took her to the DMV, where I renewed Lisa's plates and got a new license, the old one having been lost when Ginger dumped out my wallet once upon a time. While we were waiting a little girl approached Lu.

"How old are you?"

"Six"

"I'm five. I think your dress is very pretty. Where did you buy it?"

"My grandma [Scor] made it for me."

and a new, if temporary friendship was born. I did notice that the girl later said something in glorious recognition of the President's birthday. Yikes. Indoctrination begins young I guess.

So I got my picture taken and immediately complained. A mere three DL photos ago I took the Best. Picture. Ever. and this time around I look like I posed nude. Their lights washed out my tan tshirt leaving me to appear as if I'm nude from at least the belt up. Lu started giggling the first time she saw it. Ugh.

Then we picked up YaYa and my sister, ran a few errands on their behalf, and dropped back off before returning home for a full chicken and stuffing dinner.

When that was done LuLu and Smiley joined me in a run to pick up a Preston/Child book I'd saw at a thrift store (one that didn't accept credit, and I had no cash), and then we went back to Wal-Mart.

I bought LuLu a goldfish to fill a spare bowl we had at home, and I bought Smiley a dwarf African frog. At Christmas last we'd bought him a Diego! frog habitat, but he ripped it open and lost the order form for the frog. We figured this was about the only way to make good on the gift, so a frog - excuse me, his name is "oggy" - was brought home.

Total cost for these three animals and appropriate food was under $20, and most of that went towards the Beta I felt obliged to replace (after all, YaYa had bought her fish out of her own pocket, and it was killed on our watch).

So now our home features two cats, four kids, a turtle, a frog, and two fish. And a lot of fruit flies in the kitchen, but they don't count.

One we returned home, got the animals set up, gave LuLu her medicine, and put them to bed I took my nephew to the local Budget show to see a movie "Drag Me to Hell". $3.75 for two tickets. Not bad.

So there you have it. A long day, no doubt boring to you, but productive.

To me, it felt like a great day indeed.

My wish list and an unusual Craiglist ad

Aside from my adventures with the Ginger yesterday, I spent a good part of the day trying to track down some misc. items we need around the house. Chief among these would be a good paying job, but I digress.

My wish list for the house:

1. a new dehumidifier for the basement. The motor runs fine on the old one, but it no longer draws water, even after I cleaned the coils and filter.

2. a portable dishwasher to replace the one that went kaput early this year (we almost had one free today via Craigslist, but it was scooped up before we got there). Our intention remains to hold off on buying one until we can have the kitchen remodelled and a built-in installed, but I'm being realistic here - washing dishes by hand SUCKS, and it'll be awhile before we have that kind of money again.

3. a new power drill. My current model doesn't have enough muscle, and it doesn't hold a charge long enough.

4. Intercoms - Hey, you try yelling for the kids when you're washing clothes in the basement and they're up on the second floor.

5. Patio chairs and umbrella

6. A new twin bed for Smiley. Lisa's hinting she'd like a race car bed for him, but I'm more traditional.

For myself, I'm also looking for any Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child novels on the cheap.

Things that exist and are in our possesion, but are MIA in the house:

1. Lisa's mother necklace

2. YaYa's professional 1st Communion Shots and CD

3. a copy of the interviews I did w/ Uncle Leo and Grandpa K.

4. My degree and transcript from UWM

5. Probably 10,000 other items I can't think of right now.

* * * *

If you have any of the items on the wish list for sale, or gathering mold in your basement, drop me a line. Otherwise I'll peruse rummage sales and Craigslist until we hit gold.

Oh, speaking of Craigslist, I thought this was a peach of an ad in the 'Free' section today (WARNING: MILD ADULT CONTENT)


Sybian Device (Milwaukee)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2009-08-02, 9:52AM CDT
Reply to: ______@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My ex-wife left behind this Sybian device and I have no need for it. I guess she spent over $1,000 on it so I hate to just throw it away. I put it out by the garbage in the alley in the 3400 block of N Dousman.

Please dont email me. I don't want people to know who I am. It's still out there.

* * * *



Now quite aside from the general ickiness of picking up and reusing toys from someone else's garbage, I thought this reeked of either a rude joke against the residents, or some kind of sick con. But the ad went unaltered by Craigslist all day, so no one flagged it as fraud.

My big question: if you care enough to spend a grand on the thing, why wouldn't you have taken it when you left?

Praise for the wife, dirty slivers, and dead Congressmen

Lisa has spent all week volunteering at a Girl Scout day camp with our three oldest kids (Smiley is allowed to participate because of her presence). She returns each evening, we all have dinner, pack up some items for the next morning, and then 5/6th of this household retires to bed by 7 p.m. Obviously, I'm the little sliver of insomnia in the bunch.

Lisa will be taking the camera tomorrow so I hope to post some pictures of the camp soon . But I want to take this opportunity to say that Lisa often gets screwed here on the blog. She doesn't like to take a camera along ("You don't need pictures to remember something," she says) and she doesn't blog, so by default most of the memories here are my own.

Judging by the tales told over the dinner table tonight, those three kids are having the time of their life this week. They've also got a heap experiences over the last seven years that wouldn't have taken place without their Mom's efforts. So if this carnival ride of a life sometimes appears to have only one operator, think again.

* * * *
That sliver underneath my fingernail caused my finger to turn red and swell. Lisa told me to go to the doctor before I had to have it cut off, but I refused. "Worse comes to worse," I said. "I'll just look like a yakuza."

Then, two days ago it just spit out the splinter. Plop, one minute it's red and hurting, the next there's a dirty piece of wood in my palm and the pain is gone.

Cool. In like, a totally boy kinda way.

* * * * *
Some neat experiences of late:


* I met the wife and daughter of one of author Michael Connelly's research staff. He lives locally, but does a lot of legwork to flesh out the background for Connelly's novels. They said the author is a gem and a genuinely nice man, one who flies out his researchers for a party at the start of every NFL season. He also named a character in The Brass Verdict after their husband/father, but for the life of me the name escapes me right now.

* I ran into the editor-at-large for two national magazines (and yes, I asked: the magazines aren't hiring, they're cutting staff).

* Finally, I bumped into the daughter of former Congressman and local icon, the late Clement J. Zablocki. I told her how, just weeks before his death in 1983, I appeared on stage with her father.

I was (or so the press was told) the youngest Cub Scout in the District at that moment. Whether that was true or not, I leave to my diligent future biographers.

Anyhow, I was handed a hatchet and charged with cutting the ribbon to open some now forgotten Scouting event. I couldn't get the hatchet to cut through all the way, and so Clem came up, wrapped his hands around the handle, and together we got it done.



His daughter smiled when I told her the story. "That was my father," she said, a wistful look in her eyes. "He was a good man."

As she left I realized that the memory meant more to her than it did to me. To have someone relate a positive story about your father nearly three decades after he passes away . . . well, I'd imagine it doesn't happen often. I'm glad I overcame my original hesitation and approached her.

BTW - that scouting event was also host to my first television interview, one I never had a chance to see because it was broadcast on that fancy dancy new thing called Cable. :)

Meanderings of a Cluttered Mind

Well, just to complete my Jedi training in Dork, I called the phone number in the spoof ad on the cover of "Monster", the book I reviewed yesterday. Calling 212-364-1177 connects you to the switchboard for Cryptobiological Containment and Rescue Services, est. 1977. As you "continue to hold" you are offered prompts to order humane traps to snare all sorts of mythical creatures. My phone died out before I heard all the options.

Quite a hoot. Not as much fun as dialing 867-5309, but a nice way to pass 30 seconds while you pick your teeth with a matchbook cover.

Moving on . . .

* * * * *

A crazy few days here. On Saturday evening, as YaYa and I drove to church, we ran over a large screw and got a flat tire. Good luck finding someplace to patch it on the weekend, right? Wrong. Wal-Mart's tire center was not only open, but charged half as much as I'm used to paying.

RIP Sam Walton, ya done me right this weekend.

While we were waiting YaYa was a doll, which surprised the hell out of me. Hell, I was bored. But she acted like it was a grand adventure and even told me how nice it was to browse the store together. We picked up a freeze-dried ice cream sandwich from the camping section, and were surprised as heck to find it tasted pretty close to the real thing.

* * * * * *
I've got a splinter lodged deep under my pinkie nail. I trimmed the nail back as far as I dare and removed what I could, but some of it will just have to work its way out. Man oh man, there's a reason that's considered a real, honest-to-goodness torture technique.

* * * * *

I left today to walk an errand with YaYa and my niece, with no plans in the works for dinner. I came back 15 minutes later to find Lisa had scrambled together a steaming plate of sumptuous BBQ chicken breast, carrots, and salad. It was easily one of THE BEST pieces of chicken I've ever had, and I bow to her heavenly cooking skills.

Looks like Lisa rocks in *two* rooms of the house ;)

* * * * * * *

Smiley's bus was more than 45 minutes late dropping him off from school today, and I won't mince words: my head was a bleepin' mess of nerves and worst case scenarios. Ugh. All I can say is at least I don't let those fears control my whole world, as I still let him hop aboard each morning.

* * * *

Speaking of the school bus, it pulls out of here in six hours. Time to hit the sack. Later!

Roaches Anyone?

I don't know what's more creepy. The fact that this man consumes more than 20 roaches in a minute, or those weird fang like things handing down from his upper jaw. I reckon I could insert the standard "British dentistry" joke here, but it just seems gratuitous. Pay attention to the segment's host, who seems genuinely appalled at this stunt. H/T to VlogBlog



Personally, I'd rather be judging this contest, especially if there were a number of contestants in the running. Svetlana Pankratova has legs measuring 51.9 inches long, a world record.

No, nuke you moron

This is a bumper sticker I photographed (albeit poorly) in Milwaukee.

The car featured your standard issue indie band decals and "Yes We Can!" bumper stickers, along with almost as much rust as my Escort. In case you can't make out the doozy of a slogan in the picture, it reads "Fight Terror. Nuke Israel."

But that doesn't mean the guy is, like, a closet Anti-Semite who hides it under the guise of Leftist ideology. No, not at all.

Amendment

I'm smart enough to know that what you omit can be almost, if not more, important than what you include. So when my sister chastised me for making her look like a "b---h" in yesterday's post, I told her I'd fix it up a bit.

It happened the way I said it did, word for word. What I did omit was that she herself is a regular lurker on the site (she'd have to be, to catch that post so soon). I guess she was just shocked that it had an audience outside of close friends and family.

* * * *

Because these pics will never appear anywhere otherwise:

Here's a shot of Socialist fixing our toilet, bird extended. It turns out my favorite chair had originally been installed using folded pieces of cardboard to fill gaps around the bolts and seal. That would be the work of the tile guy during the remodel in early '07. It's fixed now, and I thank Socialist for making it so.



A pic of a bird outside my Mom's apartment, one with so little fear of humans it let me close enough to nearly pet it.



Smiley, apparently auditioning for "What Not to Wear"



Here's a Speedway ad. The first few times I saw this I assumed the round circle near his chest, and the subtle shading that created a curve beneath it, were tricks of the light. But nope, they're not. The man in this gas station ad apparently measures a C cup.



A school project of Smiley's, now planted in our lawn.



These are the plants that grew from the bulbs I planted with Faith during the first snowstorm of last winter. Long story.






Here's a makeup happy Elvis, as seen on the side of a local McDonald's.



And that's all folks. Truly memorable pictures, I know.

A long, busy (but happy) Tuesday

Tuesday was a busy, busy day.

I dropped Lu off at school, then went on a brisk 30 minute bike ride with YaYa. My stamina is definitely improving to 2008 levels, thank God. Then we practiced baseball for awhile before she wigged out.

Midway through the day I picked up Lu from school and we spent a good half hour on the playground, where a teacher said something that will prompt a post of its own soon.

But that's for later: today Lu attacked the monkey bars, and after her customary hesitation she mastered them with ease.



Afterwards, she went roller skating outside.



Later in the day the whole family packed up and dropped YaYa off at my sister for a sleepover, then went to the bank. Nearby a homeless woman stood by the highway begging for food. Lisa didn't hesitate to drive to Burger King and buy her a Whopper and a drink. Lu, Smiley and I walked it to the woman, who thanked the kids and then went behind a bush to eat her meal. I was thankful - had she simply ignored it and resumed begging, as has sometimes been the case when we've done this, it would have given the kids the impression that all beggars are charlatans.

Kudo's to Lisa for her charity.

Then we went over to a car wash and started to clean the interior of the car. We filled two huge garden sized trash barrels and discovered a wealth of items - the missing tickets to the May dance recital, clothing, our Kanye West and NKOTB discs, LuLu's summer school schedule, a car battery, and a funeral mass card from one Elizabeth West. Ms. West was born March 22, 1874 and passed away April 30th, 1957.

I have no idea who she was or how she is connected to our family, or why her mass card appeared in our 2006 Ford.

From there we split up. Lisa dropped Smiley and I off at Best Buy, while she and the girls perused a local strip mall. Once he and I were done we got word that - surprise! - the ladies weren't done shopping. So we walked to meet them, a pretty decent haul that looked deceptively shorter than it was.

Smiley was really talkative Tuesday, and it was a joy to behold. He said "Poorple (purple)", a few two and three word sentences, and on the walk, when I asked if he'd walk all the way home if it meant stopping at a jungle gym, "walk all way home". He was also very helpful in picking out the new camera battery, even going so far as to compare our old one to the one in the packaging before nodding his approval.

Once we were reunited we decided on a whim to go out to eat, choosing a nearby Ponderosa as the place to drop $30 we can't really spare. I consumed approximately 8,000 calories, and the rest of the family did their fair share of damage to the buffet. One cute thing: Smiley misunderstood the server's role there (all they do is bring you drinks) and kept asking her "me ice cream please".

[btw, bread pudding is always my dessert of choice there. Anyone have a good recipie?]

On the way home Lu fell asleep, but woke up in time to remember my promise to help her practice riding without training wheels. Fine. We went in front and went at it, but I'll cop to being very frustrated with her. She can ride fine, going four or five yars perfectly. But as soon as she realizes you've let go she visibly freaks and falls over with a melodramatic scream. Over. And over.

I passed her off to Lisa, who tried taking her around the block. I practiced with Smiley, who's way too young to do it but loves trying.



After a few minutes Lisa returned with LuLu, having completed her circuit of the block. Cue a fall and scream.

"Did she do that the whole way?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Better you than me," I said. "You have my pity."

She was just too tired to handle the bike riding, so we packed the kids off for bed and spent the rest of the night highlighting Lisa's hair and getting packed for her upcoming trip.

A busy day. But a good one.

Furry Foxes, Cussing Customers, and Annoying Applebees

Lisa and I just returned from a rare dinner out. The experience itself sucked, as the staff at the local Applebee's was more concerned with singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody than taking orders or delivering drinks. Really though, who cares? A dinner sans kids is a great dinner no matter the surroundings.

* * * *

On the way to dinner we saw a pair of foxes in our neighborhood. To those of you in the country this may not be a rare occurence, but this is a city of 600,000 people. I've never seen a fox before outside of cartoons. I took some camera-phone pics, but I doubt they'll turn out given the lighting conditions. The pair wasextremely bold, just lounging on a front lawn and watching traffic, then darting into the street and strolling past our van.

Back at job prior we had woodland behind the building, and at night I'd sometimes run into coyotes. But foxes, that's new to me. But apparently not new to Smiley, who was adament that he saw one cross our street last month. " 'ox, 'ox" he's say over and over, nodding his head vigourously.

I guess the little guy was right.

That brings the wildlife total here to:

1. assorted birds, including morning doves and robins.
2. foxes
3. racoons
4. skunks
5. field mice
6. and, once, a deer

* * * *

Speaking of Job Prior, today's workday featured a flashback experience, one that was all too common back in the day. Any readers from that workplace will nod their head in agreement.

I was at work finishing a sale when a young guy came in, cut ahead of two other people and interrupted me. No ifs or buts about this, it was plain as day. He physically moved ahead of people to get my attention. Does that behavior normally work? Do salespeople or waiters just drop their current customer and bow to him? Has someone encouraged this behavior in the past?

I told him he'd have to wait his turn , the same as I'd say to anyone else (and in fact, did say to someone later in the day). It was like flipping a light switch. Boom, he began swearing at me, finishing with "you're a racist motherfu**er".

[I think technically I should insert a comma there, as I think his intent was to call me a racist and a motherfu*ker, rather than just a common everyday racist motherfu*ker. ]

Now as usual I don't detail what I do for a living, as it's become my quirky signature not to shit where I eat. But rest assured, in my employer's sedate oasis of liberal thought such behavior is neither common nor warranted. Frankly, I find it hard to imagine anyone even getting worked up enough to say "ouch" if they stub their toe there, much less go off swearing.

Well, customers went off for "help", management came out, etc. but by then I had already finished the encounter. He left unhappy, and I continued work a little pissy. But the powers that be were very concerned about the conflict escalating. "Keep your cool Dan, " I was told. "If there are any more problems we'll call the police. Don't think it was your fault, that man was so out of line, blah blah."

I was pissed off, but their concern was almost as irritating. I consider myself extremely blessed to have gone seven months without someone swearing/screaming/threatening me at work, and am very happy to be out of a profession where those encounters were (surprisingly) standard issue. But I spent six years dealing with much worse crap on 3rd shift, and another three years handling a diminished amount of it during the day. I'm not going to cry, and I'm not going to go crazy and start swinging.

Anyway, this wasn't a big deal, and in truth took up all of four minutes out of an eight hour shift. I'm not sure why it's even stuck in my head long enough to write about it, except that I think I now have a deeper appreciation for a polite workplace. Roughly 65% of any asshole behavior I display on a given day is due to Job Prior. While I'm poor and getting poorer, I guess there are legitimate pluses in having that job yanked out from underneath me.

When God closes a door, yada yada.

By jiminy, a fine day!

I'd count Tuesday as a good day.

Sure, I said this on Facebook: Just took out two bags of water damaged trash from the basement, including (sniff) my beloved Zombie Halloween Costume! Plus I'm covered in waterlogged cat litter, but who cares -my zombie costume is ruined!

But that was the finale of my day, and note that I still had enough giddy-up to tackle a sizeable corner of the basement and fold some wash too. Naw, it was a very good day, in large part because I managed to get some things done. Like the basement, zombie tragedy aside.

Plus, Texas evened up the College World Series against LSU. Damn fine game.

Anyway, I woke up early and took my Mom to the Doctor. While she and my Dad waited I took off, went to the bank, paid off my mechanic, and stopped and got a much needed oil change for Lisa's van. With that done I wandered over to an Italian bakery and bought myself some wonderful bread before perusing a thrift shop. While I was doing this I was working the phone, and chopped off a number of important items from my 'to-do' list.

It being my mother-in-law's birthday (Happy Birthday!) I then swung by her house and traded some good natured insults with her husband. YaYa and Smiley had spent the night and we all had lunch together before my Mom (finally!) called and asked to be picked up.

I should point out, a little late in the game here, that it was a disgustingly hot and sticky day in Milwaukee, with temps near or crossing ninety and a heat index of 105. It sucked, and as you may recall, my central air is on the fritz. So when I returned home I yanked out the ol' window units and plopped 'em in.

Then it was on to a doc appointment of my own across town, before returning to join a birthday dinner and cake at my in-law's. After dinner YaYa and I ventured over to my friend Tre's house to chat for a few minutes before rejoining the clan to raid the local Dollar General . That was a vain search for a cup that Ginger would accept at bedtime. Instead we walked out with a toy gun that shoots foam balls.

"Han up Daddy" Smiley said, and would aim the gun at you like a cop who caught you in the act. "Han up." Naturally, you'd comply and raise your hands.

And then he'd shoot you right in the face and giggle.

Ah, a fine Milwaukee cop he'll be. I can already hear the union rep rallying to his cause.

And that's pretty much it. You know, in print, that looks like nothing at all.
But it sure feels like a wholehelluvalot.

A kind of sad, melancholy post this fine early Tues AM

Er, before I get emails saying "Where's the movie post?" - I deleted the review that posted around 1am this morning. It wasn't supposed to run until later in the year, and so I rescheduled it to correct for the error.

* * * *

In the early AM on Friday Milwaukee was hit by torrential rain and many areas flooded, including my lovely basement. It wasn't too bad this time, maybe an inch, inch and a half in parts, but I called into work the next morning to complete the cleanup, something I've done only twice this decade.

I think I have the source of the water now pegged. When we bought the house the basement featured a dirt and cobblestone floor (you read that right - mainly dirt with the occasional brick tossed in). Now the basement is wall to wall concrete. Except . . . I realized that the area under the basement stairs, which is hidden by a wood wall, still has the original flooring. That *seems* to be the entry point for the water. I'll have to attack that area soon, as I'd like to actually enjoy a summer storm for once.

Saturday was ok, and I worked most of the day anyhow. Lisa took Smiley and Ginger to Foxbrook lake and spent the day there, enjoying the sun and the water. The only real bad news? My car overheated.

Sunday was Father's Day, and I got my wish for quiet, but in the end I wasted it (by my own choice) doing nothing more constructive than watching Band of Brothers. Today I shelled out $225 for a brake repair job on the van, $225 I don't have to spare. Oh, and my central air seems to have taken a dump, just as temperatures in Milwaukee finally reach summer norms.

But other than that, and you know, thinning hair/obesity/poverty/Democrat in the White House, all is well.

In the rare good news department, I've gotten an assignment from the Journal to write a column at the start of July. Yay me.

Alright, enough of this pityfest. I'll be back with happy thoughts tomorrow.

Random thoughts on a Monday night - it is Monday right?

I was going to post my review of the hate filled The Assasination of JFK, Jr. today, but I think I'll shelve it for a bit. I hate going back to back on subject matter, be it political, reviews, or family pictures. Sure it happens sometimes, just recently in fact, but I find it's like playing two slow songs back to back on the radio - ewww.


* * *

If you're on Facebook you'll notice a big surge in my activity there. I'm still not sold on the concept, but I don't want to fall too far behind the times. Still I figure it's better than Twitter, as I see no reason to throw my every thought online. Can you imagine how boring and routine would that be? Sex, money, family, baseball, sex, sex again, means of egress in the event of the Zombie Invasion, baseball. No thanks.

* * *

Speaking of hate filled propaganda, Selena Roberts *poorly written* hatchet job on A-Rod tanked, with reports that fewer than 20,000 of the initial 150,000 printing have sold. I had the misfortune of reading a few of the ghastly chapters before I gave up and closed the cover, and trust me: it was crap.

It couldn't have happened to a better person. Keep in mind that aside from being dismissed as a hack and a fraud in the baseball community, Roberts tried, convicted, and executed the Duke lacrosse players time and time again in print - and then refused to admit she was even the tiniest bit wrong when they were exonerated. Pi*s on you Roberts, and well done Reading Public.

* * * *

Please note the re-emergence of the Free Rice game on my sidebar. Now you can choose your subject area - art, foreign language, math, etc - instead of just practicing your vocabulary.

* * * *

I'd congratulate the Lakers' on their 15th Championship, but on the rare occasions when I care about the NBA I don't devote an ounce of time to cold, corporate, high payroll teams that use their cash to dominate the league.

Now you'll excuse me as I finish signing up for my Yankees Fan Club.

In which I bit** and moan and groan

While I continue to work pretty steadily, the income just isn't cutting it, and there is very little in the way of good (financial) news in the foreseeable future.

* I got word the other day that I didn't land the job with the City. Not only would it have restored the income level of Job Prior, it would have increased it to the point of literally changing our lives. After a few months of wading through the civil service process it was no-go.

* I am registered to begin teacher certification with MPS in July, but that's income that's still months away at best.

* I put serious thought into managing a property up-North, which would have meant leaving the city (duh) and moving the family across the state. That's not something I could normally see myself doing, but there were pluses:

a) it was a job in my old field

b) the cost of living is cheaper there

c) in addition to a salary, it included a rent-free house and utilities.

I thought maybe we could rent our current house for enough $ to manage the mortgage from a distance. There's certainly enough people interested in taking up residence here, as now two friends AND a co-worker have asked about moving in.

But in the end, I can't see ourselves doing it, for a number of reasons I needn't go into here. Not that the job is mine for the taking, because I don't mean to give that impression.

* Physically, I'm exercising more and feel better, although my heel spur still aches. Lisa on the other hand is plagued by an abscessed tooth that is defying antibiotics and must be pulled - if/when we can ever get bleeping approval from the insurance company. I've been through major tooth pain, and I know it sucks. It bothers me to see her in so much pain.

* Mentally, eh. A few weeks ago, after LuLu threw up before each of her three dance recitals, my Dad innocently mentioned a tidbit about me. As a kid my anxiety was so bad that I'd throw up many mornings before school. He mentioned it to make LuLu feel better, but it just destroyed me for a few weeks. Truthfully, I'd damn near blocked out that memory.

I would say that had I been pressed, I would have remembered it. But not once, not ONCE in twenty odd years did it pop into my head. It seems so insignificant sitting here in 2009, but it brought back all kinds of dormant insecurities and anxieties. Given an inch, all those social issues tried their damnest to reassert themselves.

Ugh.

* * *

Anyway, enough belly-aching. My Dad's Big Bad Boss - at least, the one I remember from my childhood - passed away in California in the last few days.

He shared a last name with a character from The Honeymooners, and he was a major prick. Loud, obnoxious,oblivious to other people's feelings, and cheap. My Dad worked 3rd shift and he used to call and wake him up for the most inane of reasons, almost for the sheer pleasure of destroying his rest

I remember him yelling at me for playing Space Invaders in his lobby, and how he kept a lion he killed on safari on permanent display in the window. The latter was cool; the former just stupid. Why put the video game there if you don't want people playing it?

Decades later, when I was a manager in the same industry, I found out those memories weren't exaggerated by my youth. Top to bottom, everyone who'd encountered him echoed my sentiments. But you just know his obituary will be full of glowing, nostalgic anecdotes, because that's how the world works.

RIP regardless sir. If nothing else, you gave me something NOT to emulate.

Drugs, Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation, and Free Rice. Sounds like a party to me!

Happy 5th of June everyone.

I've heard all the updated reports about David Carradine, and I must say, confusion reigns. He seems to have been in good spirits, and not at all suicidal; recent stories mention rumors of foul play.

If, as earlier stories hinted, he mistakenly killed himself in an attempt at auto-erotic asphyxiation, I don't think any less of him. It's an embarrasing and stupid way to die, but some folks will try anything for an orgasm. In the wake of yesterday's stories I even had someone I know tell me they've tried (a mild version of) it themselves.

As for myself, I have a major issue with anyone so much as touching my neck (which has always made trips to the barber contentious), so I can't imagine getting off by having a rope wrapped around my throat. But to each his own I guess.

* * * *

You'll notice I've now added all the blogs I follow to the blog list on the sidebar. If your site is NOT mentioned there, please let me know. I just find it a lot easier to notice updates in that format (newly updated sites rise to the top of the list) than with the dashboard or reader.

* * * *

I want to add several clickable images to the sidebar - you know, the Free Rice bar I had back on AOL, etc. For some reason I'm stymied, so I'd appreciate any help I can get.

* * * *

The other day, while walking with her to Walgreens, YaYa was cofused when I called it a 'drug store'. In her mind, the word 'drug' meant only illegal drugs, not 'medicine'.

And then she asked me why people take illegal drugs.

Well, what to say? When it doubt, I guess the truth will do. I've never understood anti-drug ads, teachers and parents who gloss over the obvious reason drugs are popular.

"Because they make you feel good," I said. "And they're fun for a minute. But they can hurt your body and screw up your brain. Lot's of famous people have died from drugs [I rattle off a few] and even if you don't, you can get addicted and need it every day. And since they're expensive, if you're addicted you'll go broke."

Jeez louise. Between the discussions about: drugs, sex, stranger danger, nental illness, and the Zombie War Contingency Plans, well, it's enough to drive a parent nuts.

But hopefully they'll all make a difference.

Swine Flu Update and some YouTube videos

The swine flu scare at LuLu and YaYa's school ended almost as soon as it began. On Friday classes resumed as normal, and the kids enjoyed an extra day off. At the start of May twenty-odd schools were closed in the area because of Swine Flu, something I touch upon in some (already-written) posts I'll publish in the coming week. With that experience behind us, the flu itself didn't bother me much.

Instead, I was annoyed at the half-ass way the school went about the process. We were told the school was to be closed Thursday but possibly re-open Friday; "Watch the news" the school said. No other information was passed on. What classes were effected by the flu? Were my kids in direct contact with the students or did they just pass them in the halls? How many were sick?

I still don't know the answers to those questions, although I'm told a K5 student (not in LuLu's class) was the only confirmed case.

I don't expect the school to have the 'oomph' of MPS, who send out an automated call for every event, closing and newsflash. But someone could have called the parents, or started a chain reaction of calls, to pass on knowledge of the closing. Watching the news was idiotic, as there was never a mention of the closing anywhere in the first place.

* * * * *

Here's a clip from Britain's Got Talent, Simon Cowell's UK gig. You probably know it best for playing host to media sensation Susan Boyle, but this clip is of another contestant. You know me, I'm not one to mollycoddle and say "this child is too young for the stage!" - my notion being, take opportunity by the throat, as it may not appear again - but obviously it was too rough for her, poor thing.

But as for giving her another shot, well, bleep that. If an adult in the same competition screws up, that's it. If she wants to play the game, play it by the same rules or go home. No goofy Sotomayor philosophy here kid.



* * *

If you want to know a relative unknown who has the potential to go somewhere in R&B, take a look at Genevieve Goings from Disney's Choo-Choo Soul. Of course it doesn't hurt that she's super hot.








* * * *

Here's a video of a friend and reader from Alaska. Dude, go to Supercuts.



* * *

Finally, here's a very tacky, very vulgar commercial (also involving hair) for a woman's razor. As each of the women in the ad walk past a bush it's magically trimmed, sometimes into a tidy triangle. Over the top and juvenile. How the hell did this get on the air?

The Rambles pt 2

Here's the last half of that post, fleshed out for good measure.

* * * *

For Mother's Day I bought Lisa another copy of the New Kids' CD, replacing one my sister had "borrowed" and never returned. This brings to mind an experience she had at the concert in April. She was seated between the main stage and stage 'B', the rotating platform where they perform three songs. As the guys moved from one to another she grabbed hold of Jon Knight's hand. Always and forever her favorite, he had to pry her hand off in order to continue on his way. She said his hand was much bigger and softer than she expected.

* * * *

The media coverage of Jon and Kate's marital problems leaves me shaking my head . Yes, yes, smirk and say "what's good for the goose is good for the gander. They were certainly keen on the attention when things were well, weren't they?"

Well, sure. Anyone who says - let me elaborate: says and truly believes- that they would turn down the same offer is a fool. The couple has eight children. A television station offered them a chance to document their family for posterity, while paying the Gosslin's more money per episode than they would earn in a year at a 'real' job.

You're right, it sounds like a horrible, selfish idea. [Attention Hollywood: if you want to come over to the Slapinons household and film the convoluted mess that is our lives, my number is 414 555-5555.]

As far as the alleged infidelity: if he's cheating, and I say 'if', then he's an idiot for doing it in public when he knows cameras are following him. That said, no one knows what goes on inside a marriage except the two people who exchanged vows. There are rumours of sexual discord, of Kate herself having a 'friend', and even of 'allowed' dalliances - none of which is any of my business, nor changes my respect for what they've accomplished as parents.

Update: since this was began I've read Kate's interview in People. Sometimes I wonder where this woman's PR people learned their trade. She tries to sell herself as a saint, and paints Jon as a lazy, shiftless wreck of a man. I don't care what's going on behind the scenes, if you want to try and work on your marriage that's a lousy, lousy, way to start the process. Score one for Jon on the sympathy meter.

* * * *

We watched a second week of The Fashion Show, and it's growing on us. I like the emphasis on sale-and-wearability over the 'arty' fashion of Project Runway.

We've also scoped out a week of Any Dream Will Do, Andrew Lloyd Webber's casting call for an English lead for Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. Joseph is my favorite musical, but the reality show falls flat. It's much too posh and slow paced for my cheap American tastes.

* * * * *
I ran into an old customer of mine from Job Prior, a prostitute who now seems to have retired from the trade. She was with a husband/boyfriend at Wal-Mart, and while we exchanged nods we didn't speak. I don't blame her. What was she going to tell the guy? "Oh, this is Dan. He was working 3rd shift back when I was turning tricks, and sometimes he'd have to step in and deal with a john that got out of line."

I remember one time, in a lobby filled with people, she whipped out a caramel colored breast to show off a bright white crescent scar; the result, she said, of a woman biting her chest during a youthful brawl.

Ah, memories.