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."

On the crybaby Giants, the upcoming Obama speech, and why you shouldn't cook a frozen pizza at night, at least in this house

Most people who know me would say I was full of sh*t on this point (and many others), but I have a very competitive personality. 99% of the time its buried deep, but man, does it ever rise to the surface when you're talking about sports.

Today, word is that the Giants are p.o.'d over the home run celebration by Prince Fielder. Wah-wah.

Hey, it would pi*s me off too, if the shoe was on the other foot. But I'm a fan, and I have no say-so in the outcome of a game. My impotence would be the source of my rage. The Giants on the other hand . . .well, let me quote Dayn from a comment thread on Baseball Think Factory.

Maybe the best walk-off celebration I've ever seen. My stance--within reason--is that if you don't want to see the celebration, then don't lose the game.

Amen brother. Amen.

* * * *

A whackadoodle night. While we were preheating the oven to cook a late-night pizza some crumbs in the oven started smoking. The smoke traveled up the back stairs, hit the smoke alarms, and pandemonium reigned. Ginger was crying, Smiley was clutching his ears, LuLu slept through it, and YaYa was annoyed. We never could silence the hardwired alarms, and so I was forced to cut the power to the second floor (and remove all the backup batteries from the units) or continue to wake up the neighborhood. Dear Lord are they LOUD.

Did I mention LuLu slept through them, and YaYa stirred only to register her annoyance?

I tried flipping the power back on later but the alarms rang again. We'll hunker down in the dark like savages overnight, then try it again in the morning.

* * * *

I've read the text of the Obama speech and find nothing to object to in its content. It's all standard fluff, but well written standard fluff. I noted it had plenty of the Jimmy Carter "I was born poor but now I'm President!" anecdotes, but that's ok in this context. If they have indeed scrapped the Orwellian classroom activities, it's kosher.

I still don't know if the school(s) my kids attend will play the speech. I've asked the offspring and they have no clue. I'm betting none of them will see it. Smiley because his class is too young and has special needs, and the girls because their school is not a hotbed of Obama-love. But again, I have no direct knowledge and could be way off.

* * *

I promised Lisa to offer my opinion on socialized medicine, and I haven't been putting it off so much as been distracted by other subjects. I'll try to publish that in the next 48 hours, along with a long-overdue comment on the Left's awfully convenient obsession with labeling anything anti-Obama as racist.

Milwaukee Serial Killer Caught

BadgerBlogger is reporting that the Milwaukee Police Department has arrested 49 year old Walter Ellis in connection with a string of Milwaukee killings dating back to the mid 1980's. [JSOnline confirms the report.]



I wrote about the case of the so-called "North Side Strangler" and his seven victims twice. Keep in mind MPD didn't hunt him for twenty years. It was only recently that DNA linked cold cases and revealed the pattern. Some additional good came of it too; as they continued to look for more victims other cases were solved by running the same evidence.

A press conference is scheduled for this evening. Good job MPD!

A Royal Celebration

You could have stuck a fork in the 66-70 Brewers ages ago; this season was lost before the 'Back to School' ads went to print. No matter. I'm used to it, and I always have the Yanks.

But one bright spot of the year is the continued brilliance of first baseman Prince Fielder. He took the Home Run Derby trophy in July. He's been among the league leaders in home runs and RBI's all season, and this is his third consecutive year of at least 30 HR's/100 RBI.

Best of all, he's been the centerpiece of some original celebrations.

First there was the mock fisticuffs with Ryan Braun after every home run.



I thought that was cool. But today, after blasting a walk-off home run in the 12th inning, a masterpiece: Prince approached the plate, which was surrounded by his ecstatic teammates. He jumped in the air and touched home. As he did, his teammates fell to the ground from the 'quake' before getting up to congratulate him.

They were 'bowled over' by his deed.



Old School? No, it's not, I'll grant you that. Poor sportsmanship? No, there's no disrespect intended to the other team. Vastly more appropriate if it was being done by a team at or over .500, and in a pennant race?

Sigh. Yeah. There is that.

note: after tonight Prince is hitting .298/37/123, with a .411 OBP and .591 slugging in 136 games.

Our Camping Trip

As most of you know, our activities this year have been constricted by a lack of cash. Still, as the school year approached I felt compelled to fulfill at least one goal for the kids. So at 5 pm on a Tuesday night we started packing, and by 5:15 we were on the road in search of a campground.

It would be the first time I'd gone camping since 1987, and the first time Lisa had ever slept in a tent.

[Ginger, btw, was staying at Grandma's]

Our intent was to take the kids to a Christian campground an hour away. Not because they were a Christian business (although I'm keen to support that). No, it's a normal camping experience, but we were pleased with a side effect of their Christian 'label': I was looking to take the kids somewhere where beer and pot wouldn't be the norm. The place we had wanted to take them had developed a reputation for both of those. Fine for grown-ups, not so much for little ones.

Unfortunately storms beckoned (well planned trip, eh?) and we were eager to get the tent up. We scrapped the plans to head there.

Then we were given turn by turn directions for a state campground, but the woman must have been on crack because it lead to nowhere fast. So in the end we wound up at Jellystone Campground in Caledonia.

We were given site 229 because I'd requested one as close as possible to the shared restrooms. This was the first time we'd ever set up our brand new 7 person tent, and we needed the help of camp staff to get it up. Even with help we had to complete it by flashlight after sunset.

At that point we tried and half-succeeded in starting a fire to make smores.









I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: the kids were awful. Spoiled, bratty, and whiny. YaYa was the worst of the bunch, and I genuinely regretted going. But then a little light dawned: here they were, ages 4,6 and 7, and they were camping in the dark. "Are you scared?" I asked YaYa. She nodded, and I gave her a little more leeway.

No sooner did we finish the smores before it started to rain, and we headed inside the tent. It was larger than my first apartment, and we all had room to stretch out.









I put my blanket down by the tent door, just to make sure none of the buggers went for a walk in the night. I shouldn't have worried. The rain soon turned into a downpour, one that lasted until three in the morning.

YaYa clutched Brown Bear tight, but the thunder and wind was still working on their nerves. For a few minutes I moved the girls closer.





Like I said, the rain went on forever, and we all soon learned to block it out. The tip-tap on the tent was pretty cool, actually, like falling asleep to the sound of microwave popcorn popping.

The kids had taken their slumber couches along, but Lisa and I roughed it and slept on blankets on the ground. I had no problems sleeping, and was rather comfortable. Lisa hated it and woke up every few hours. Next time she'll bring an air mattress.

Smiley was the last kid to fall asleep, collapsing at 11:30, and I hit the sack shortly after him.

In the morning, while we were still sleeping, Lisa got up and took LuLu home with her to grab some clothes. In their absence we packed up the tent and took it down.





to be continued . . .

2009 Fantasy Football Draft

15 minutes until my NFL Fantasy Draft. Team created and named? Ck. Draft list complete? Ck. Richard Nixon avatar uploaded? Ck. We're good to go people, we're good to go!

A Quote derived from Thomas Hardy

Over at the blog for American Spectator magazine, a commenter left behind a Thomas Hardy quote that really spoke to me. I searched online for the complete text and came up empty, so I left a comment on that blog asking for help. Once they were sure I wasn't a liberal troll MaryLouise went out of the way to track down the information.

Here's the passage from Tess of the d'Urbervilles she found for me. It can be found in either chapter 14 or 15 of the novel, and reads as follows:

She philosophically noted dates as they came past in the revolution of the year; the disastrous night of her undoing at Trantridge with its dark background of The Chase; also the dates of the baby's birth and death; also her own birthday; and every other day individualized by incidents in which she had taken some share. She suddenly thought one afternoon, when looking in the glass at her fairness, that there was yet another date, of greater importance to her than those; that of her own death, when all these charms would had disappeared; a day which lay sly and unseen among all the other days of the year, giving no sign or sound when she annually passed over it; but not the less surely there. When was it? Why did she not feel the chill of each yearly encounter with such a cold relation? She had Jeremy Taylor's thought that some time in the future those who had known her would say: "It is the--th, the day that poor Tess Durbeyfield died"; and there would be nothing singular to their minds in the statement. Of that day, doomed to be her terminus in time through all the ages, she did not know the place in month, week, season or year.**

The idea struck a chord with me, as it echoes a thought that's been with me for years. It would be nice to have it articulated, as I've stumbled with it time and again, but I agree the full passage is far too unwieldy for a good axiom. So let me try again, borrowing from Hardy:

Each year we pass the anniversary of our own death, and are given no sign or thought of its importance; but it is there, sly and unseen, waiting for our introduction.

A few days ago was the anniversary of my Grandpa's death. Did September 3rd mean anything to him in the years before his life ended? His wife, my Grandmother died on July 4th. She celebrated the holiday 84 times before that day; did she ever feel the tug of fate on those happy days?

Hardy and I can't be the only people who've thought of this, right?

Obama's Speech to the Children

The press is abuzz with the backlash against the President's plan to speak live to schoolchildren across the nation. Sure, I'm aware of Bush 41 made a similar speech in the early '90's (and was met criticism from the Left) but let's be real: I love George Herbert Walker Bush, but a great speaker he was/is not; the very notion of anyone fearing a Svengali performance from him is laughable.

Locally, Green Bay, Elmbrook, and West Bend Districts have decided against showing the speech. Other areas, such as Milwaukee, have handed off the controversy down the chain of command, making it a school by school, and sometimes class by class decision.

I have every confidence, especially in the wake of the furor, that the speech will be full of cheer leading rhetoric and devoid of substantial content, left/right or in-between. My original, very vocal complaint was the list of activities the White House asked accompany the speech. Yeah - uh, CREEPY. Don't quote Kennedy's "Ask Not" blurb at me - Kennedy asked you to serve your country, not the Oval Office.

Like I said on FB, if my kids are going to worship some dingbat with an inflated ego, dammnit, it's gonna be ME :)

If their schools decide to run the speech, I won't pull them out, but I will read the speech first and if necessary, offer my (gentle) opinion. He is (sigh) our President, and so I will not disparage him openly in front of the kids.

I want to point out something though. This has all been blown out of proportion, but I won't lie and say it doesn't tickle me a bit. Putting that aside, let's go back to that line about the Left going after Bush 41's speech and failing to rouse the public's ire.

To quote the Journal-Sentinel.

The difference is, this time, it's resonating.

"It's not about the speech itself," [UW-Madison political science professor] Franklin said. "It's the right's ability to seize on it and the ability to build on a narrative about Obama."

You'll see and read a lot of polls that predict doom for Obama and this Congress. I concur with the assessment for Congress - there should be a lot of Dems fearing for their job on the Hill, although much can change in a year - but I don't have much confidence (yet) in tossing out Obama. The luster has worn off, but the Cult of Personality may resist change, just to avoid admitting they were duped in '08. And much, MUCH can happen in three years to resurrect a campaign.

But here's where Obama IS failing. Bush was hated. Hated, like no other since Nixon. If he had announced a similar speech the left would have gone apeshit, the right would reflexively have argued against them, and Everyday Joe would have shook his head at the fools and gone on with his day.

Obama is not hated by most people. Any yet, the Right goes apeshit, the Left responds, and Everyday Joe seems, more and more often, to side with the right. This was true in derailing the health initiatives, and today it's causing large school districts to tremble.

Remember, Obama won Wisconsin, and took Milwaukee handily. And yet now, on something as simple as a televised speech, the public speaks loudly enough to cause MPS to shun a decision and take it on a case by case basis? Wow.

That, and not any poll number, leads me to question the effectiveness of The White House here in late summer 2009. Every compromise costs him support on the far Left (anyone read the Left's scathing attacks on his escalation in Afghanistan?) Every controversy increases the right's confidence, and the publics trust in what they say. And every overblown, waste of time dogfight chips away at the center that is the be all and end all of any electoral victory.

If, IF, that continues into 2010 and beyond, sayonara.

* * * *

Green 'Czar' Van Jones is another clumsy example of the White House's summer. This guy is a 'former' 911 Truther, or else someone dumb enough to be 'duped' by a 911 Truther; someone who called Republicans "Assholes" in a public forum (I blame Rahm's culture of vulgarity for instigating that one), he's done a public impersonation of Bush on Crack , and said only white kids shoot up schools.

Quote: "You've never seen a Columbine done by a black child. Never. They always say, 'We can't believe it happened here. We can't believe it's these suburban white kids.' It's only them. Now, a black kid might shoot another black kid. He's not going to shoot up the whole school."

Fine for Chris Rock to say on stage, but not appropriate for a public official.

Get rid of him. He's a liability, and a PR disaster that draws even more attention away from Obama's goals (oooh, on second thought: let him stay).

The bigger question is: why haven't they dismissed him already?

UPDATE: Someone in the WH must read this blog (here's hoping they don't put me on one of their 'watch' lists.) He's now resigned his post.

Home

Home from work and ready to relax. Kids are asleep, Lisa out w/ friends. Time to fire up today's Badger game on the DVR!

Glee and Project Runway

Just FYI, I finally got around to posting about YaYa's 7th birthday last October. If you'd like to look at it, check it out here.

* * * *




God Bless High School Musical for making musicals palatable to the public again. Lisa and I watched the (DVR'd) pilot for Fox's Glee tonight, and it will be a must-see for us when the series begins next week.

Glee is a show about a teacher who takes over his school's glee club, while fending off pressure from his wife to quit and get a better paying job. His club is a motley assortment from the "sub-basement" of the school's social order, but they all are very talented. Not that it matters to the insane cheerleading coach, or the pot smoking footall coach, both of whom via the Glee Club with disdain.



Glee is a dramedy with some stylistic nods to The Office. At times it's laugh out loud, and I don't recall any scene that went by without a smile spreading across my face.

Check it out. I think you'll like it.

* * *

I'm still not digging this season of Project Runway too much. It still rocks, just . . . not as much. At least they had the good sense to get rid of the two odd designers to open the season, and the no-talent Mitchell in the latest episode. Can you believe Mitchell? What an absolute, no talent "I got in via pure B.S." designer.

And we've jettisoned Models of the Runway. Yawn.

"By the [encore] even the band's critics might have been hard-pressed not to sing along"

Here's the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel's critique of Creed's show. Look's like they agree with my assesment. I don't normally repost complete articles, so to sooth my conscience feel free to visit the JS version here.


Reunited Creed adds a dose of humility to its bombast
By ERIK ERNST

Posted: Sept. 2, 2009

During the late '90s and early 2000s, Creed might have been the most polarizing act in rock.

Often derided by critics, the band was also undoubtedly successful, selling millions of albums and riding the top of the charts with a mix of over-polished, post-grunge rock. Detractors mocked the overly serious posturing of their songs and pomposity of frontman Scott Stapp, while fans flocked to the band's spiritual and inspirational music.

Five years after Stapp's personal demons led to the band's split, Creed has reunited. At its Bradley Center show Tuesday night, it was apparent that the comeback had nothing to do with offsetting the critics. This hits-laden affair was staged for the fans.

With all the arena-rock excess the band's four original members and touring guitarist Eric Friedman could muster, Creed's 95-minute set was a stream of nostalgia, reconciliation and fist-pumping.

Fireballs on the large stage warmed a small audience that filled about a third of the venue at the first notes of "Bullets." With a closely shorn haircut replacing his formerly long locks, Stapp flexed his arms as his distinctive baritone voice filled the room. He was, at times, as animated and overdramatic as always, but this was a new, more humble Stapp.

"Allow us to reintroduce ourselves," he said before the set's lone new song, "Overcome." He also thanked Milwaukee for being the first city outside of the group's native Florida to play the band on the radio.

During "Say I," he pounded his chest, but couldn't hide a smile as he crouched to shake fans' outstretched hands.

If Stapp's voice is Creed's most recognizable element, Mark Tremonti's guitar forms the music's consistent structure. Even Tremonti's usual rock-guitar scowl broke into a grin as he added flourishes to the band's biggest hit, "With Arms Wide Open," and joined Stapp in a celebratory shower of sparks during "My Sacrifice," a song whose lyrics were autobiographically reframed for the reunion.

By the three-song encore that ended with the pyrotechnic crescendo of "Higher," even the band's critics might have been hard-pressed not to sing along.

Led by vocalist Doug Robb's manic energy and charm, Hoobastank performed a 40-minute, bone-jarringly loud set that ranged from the thumping rock of "Born to Lead" to the power balladry of "The Reason."

New Zealand-bred Like a Storm opened its 30-minute set of techno-infused hard rock with a didgeridoo solo.

Creed - Bradley Center (Milwaukee) September 1st

[If you're in a hurry, here's a summary of this post: Creed rocked.

If you're killing time at work and Solitaire is passe, settle in for a spell.]

I did wind up taking my Godson/nephew to the show, but I was wrong about it being his first concert. Jonah's seen the Warp tour and been to the Rave several times, so this was old hat for him.




I asked my Dad if he could drive us to and from the venue in exchange for Jonah's ticket, since I literally didn't have the $20 for parking. He agreed. We were angling to avoid Hoobastank, so we told him to be at my house at 7:30, the start time on the tickets. Being my father, he was nearly twenty minutes late, then drove 25 mph the whole way to the Bradley Center. I didn't get angry - a gift horse and all- but we didn't arrive until well after eight.

We arrived in time to hear the opening act finish, then waited and watched a ball game in the lobby for fifteen minutes until the lights dimmed. Whew. Things had worked out after all.

And then Hoobastank took the stage. Dang nabbit.



Creed had once again given another small band some much needed face time, which is cool, but I'm really not a fan of having two opening acts. Plus I felt that the Fates were giggling, and had made damn sure that Hoobastank and I collided.

But, they were pretty damn good. They were MUCH harder than what I expected (granted, my whole knowledge of their catalog was "The Reason") and had a ton of energy on stage. The singer has a filthy mouth, uttering F bombs and whatnot in every sentence, so I felt right at home, but he had an annoying habit of thanking the crowd after every song, and there were A LOT of songs. All told, they racked up a forty-plus minute set.

Cool trivia: among their many songs were "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd, which was the band on Jonah's shirt, and the theme from "Ghostbusters."



During the wait for Creed to start, I surveyed the crowd. It wasn't a great turnout for an arena of that size. It was an awkward sized group: too many people to comfortably use a smaller venue, but small enough to make the Bradley Center seem conspicuously half-full. It was largely male, although there were a fair share of wives, girlfriends and groupie wannabees.

Jonah was probably the only person there under 21, and I'd estimate most of the crowd was between 30 and 45, with the majority of that group in their early thirties. In other words, the people who would have been in college or grad school when Creed hit the scene. After a six year layoff and no new material on the shelves, I wouldn't have expected to see many youngin's there.

I should mention that we were on the floor, stage left, maybe 120-150 feet from the action, and had a great line of sight. Thanks again Ashley!

Creed came on loud and hard with "Bullets", complete with pyrotechics and shooting flames. Egads, a modern rock band with a great guitarist, memorable lyrics, a first rate frontman, and solid hooks.




Welcome back fellas, I've missed ya.




A few songs in a security guard came up to us. He'd been gradually letting various Hot Chicks into the standing room area that was fenced off directly in front of the stage. I must have looked especially sizzling, because he gestured for me to join them. Nice!

For the rest of the concert we were around forty feet from the stage, and could have gotten a good ten feet closer if we'd bothered.







But from where we stood not only did we have a clean shot of the stage, we were much closer to the secondary stage where Stapp would venture out to do his thing.









[Outside of their new single Overcome, which fit seamlessly into the rest of their catalog, the concert was all material from their heyday. Was the concert just about nostalgia? Well, if you define that as a band playing their hits, the crowd singing along to every word, and everyone having a blast, then yeah, it was. Who cares? But I think they were priming the pump, getting the old fans back into the groove. I imagine they'll tour again after the October release of their album, and hope to add in a new generation of fans at that time.]





One thing I've always loved about Creed is that they don't try to F with their songs on stage. What you hear live is by and large what you hear on the record, and I'm MORE than ok with that. However, on the sentimental crowd favorite "With Arms Wide Open", a song written "eleven years ago now", Stapp did a nice little tweak to the vocals. I hope someone out there will youtube that video, as I think its worth another listen.






"With Arms Wide Open" really got the crowd involved, and the band followed it by finishing the set with "My Sacrifice". There was obviously going to be an encore, but for me this was the high point of the show. I was singing along with the entire crowd, arms in the air, head banging, 150% in the moment.





Cue the usual wait for the encore, and still pumped up, I was screaming and chanting with the rest of the crowd. Creed came back on and did three more songs, the first of which was "One".



"One" is a song I don't like very much at all, and yet perversely I find myslef jamming to it and reciting the words whenever I hear it. And yes, I had my arms in the air, index finger raised. I'm a dork.

The concert closed with "Higher", which again had the crowd in a frenzy.









And that was that. I asked Jonah if he'd enjoyed it and he said he had. In his opinion Hoobastank put on a strong show, and he really seemed to enjoy Creed, singing along on several songs.

As for the band, I have more respect for guitarist Mark Tremonti's skills than I did in the past. Stapp was much toned down from the last time I saw him, but his voice and stage presence were still right up there, and throughout the show he seemed genuinely happy.

One neat aside: with the cameras and spotlight off him Stapp crouched down on the secondary stage, took a deep breath, wiped his brow, and shook his head at the audience with a look that said "man, this is harder than I remember." It was a great, very human moment.



It was a great show, and quality time with my nephew. As for Creed, like I said before: Welcome back fellas. Welcome Back.

Creed

just got back from the creed concert with my uncle was a good show. - Jonah

Thanks for going - Me

Glad you had fun, Creed puts on a good show. glad you got moved up too...that's always awesome! - Lisa

Sounds like a good time.... - Grandma J

The Domino Men

A century and a half ago a drug-addicted Queen Victoria sold the citizens of London into slavery, to be harvested at will at some future date by a being called Leviathan. In exchange for this great bounty the House of Windsor was guaranteed control of Great Britain for all time. Since then a secret division of the civil service, known as the 'Directorate', has waged war against the crown in an effort to win back the future of their city.

Enter Henry Lamb. Once a flash-in-the-pan child star he now works as a filing clerk for the government. After his grandfather, a former Directorate agent, falls into a coma he is drafted into the war. What follows are London's final, precious days of freedom before the deal is completed. And only Henry, a mysterious woman named Estella, and the Prince heir Arthur are there to stand in its way.

The author of The Domino Men is Jonathan Barnes, writer of last years The Somnambulist. This is a fine easy read with very little to recommend it to the ages. I enjoyed the development of Arthur and found Henry a sympathetic sort, but occasionally Barnes falls prey to the British desire to shove a comedic moment down your throat at every turn. It's also readily apparent that this isn't the end of the tale. Many of the characters from The Somnambulist return here, and very little is done to develop the repeat characters nor identify their fates.

Recommended for readers with a liking for sci-fi and humor.

Whoo-hoo! Creed Tickets!

I've been a fan of Creed for years, and had the opportunity to see them in person in '01 or '02 (a Christmas present from Lisa). I was bummed when I heard they broke up, happy when I heard they reunited, and sad when I realized I wouldn't be able to afford to attend their concert here tomorrow.

Still, I had a gut feeling that fate was about to bestow some luck on me, once I realized I had off for the night of the concert. Why have it on a Tuesday night, if not to allow the universe to bless me with tickets?

Tonight my wonderful co-worker Ashley M stepped forward to save the day! She won tickets for the show but wasn't interested in going. Remembering that I was a fan, she gifted me the floor tickets, which sold for $85 each, for a mere $5 apiece!



Tentatively, it looks like I'll be taking my nephew to the show. Hoobastank is opening, and I couldn't care less, but seeing as it'll be his first concert I'll probably suffer through it. :)

[And never fear, you know I'll blog about it]

One thing that sucks, and seems downright stupid, is that their album doesn't drop until October 27th. I'm annoyed that I won't know all the songs before I go, since half the fun is singing along.

There is one song that's been released: Overcome.



Don’t cry victim to me
everything we are and used to be
is buried and gone
now it’s my turn to speak
it’s my turn to expose and release what’s been killing me.
i’ll be dammed fighting you it´s impossible impossible!
say goodbye with no sympathy!

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb (?)
knock me down throw me to the floor!
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more.
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!

finally see what’s beneath
everything i am and hope to be
cannot be lost.
I’ll be dammed fighting you
you´re impossible impossible!
say goodbye with no sympathy!

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb (?)
knock me down throw me to the floor
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!

overcome!

You’ll never know what I was thinking before you came ‘round
take a step take a breath put your guard down
I cannot worry anymore of what you think of me
I may be crazy but I’m buried in your memory

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb
knock me down throw me to the floor
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!
(repeat)

I may be crazy but I’m buried in your memory

The first day of the 2009/2010 School Year

Today (Monday) was the first day of school for my girls. We had intended to re-adjust them to a school schedule over the last few weeks, but near constant sleepovers stopped that dead in its tracks.



Well, last night YaYa had trouble sleeping, and came downstairs at midnight crying. She claimed to have seen a ghost in the hall. It's not as crazy as it sounds, as Lisa claims to have 'felt' and heard spirits here. Even if true, I reckon the ghosts are no danger to us. My family has owned this house for nearly 70 years, and the only people I know to have died here are my great-grandparents (one of whom died in this very room).

Around two, when I went to bed, I found our 'ghost' - LuLu was not only awake, but having a grand time playing in her room. [edited for language].

Surprisingly, despite those events they woke up more cheerful than their parents, and the school day went well.



Not so a subsequent trip to the grocery store, where LuLu and YaYa fought over seating in a car cart - the automobile shaped grocery carts used when shopping with little kids. Well, enough was enough. I abandoned the cart and dragged the girls home, kicking and screaming. No number of "sorry's" could sway me - after many years, I have converted to Lisa's hard(er) line stance with the kids.

Later, I did make the trip, successfully, with Smiley and YaYa (Lu wanted to stay home.)

In the late afternoon I decided to clean the fish tanks and the turtles enclosure. With the sun shining and a moderate temperature on hand, I decided to give Franklin some time to roam around outside.





Smiley was drafted to stand guard, and he radiated happiness and fun while doing the job. Keep in mind, Franklin can move. No one ever believes me because a) he's a turtle and b) he plays it close to the vest until you grow complacent. But I turned my head to give my attention to YaYa and turned around to find him gone. Another 30 seconds and he'd have been completely under the porch, the only real means of escape from the yard.



I put the kids down SUPER early, at 5:30, but they were exhausted. I think LuLu was fast asleep in a few minutes, with Smiley following soon after. YaYa is stubborn, and pitter-pattered around for awhile.

All in all, a good day, as most of mine are. ;)