Step Brothers

In one scene Will Ferrell takes out his testicles and rubs them on his step-brothers drum set. That's all you really need to know about the film.

Still with me? Good, then you're one of the great number of Americans who dig Ferrell, the comedic use of testes, or both. Welcome to the club.

Ferrell and John C. Reilly star as grown men still living at home who become step-brothers when their parents marry. The marriage isn't helped by their antics, and neither is the maturity level of the plot. It's one silly little thing after another, from a hyper sexual sister-in-law to the adolescent bullies who make them eat dog poo.

Silly. Stupid. It barely requires an IQ to watch.

And it's funny. Not their best work. Not their second or third best work either, but 2.5 out of 4

My Mom and the new (temporary?) kitty

Yesterday evening I saw my Mom for the first time since her surgery. She's been transferred to a nursing home for a few weeks of rehab. How was she? She was watching Dancing with the Stars, was irked that my Dad forgot to bring a root beer, disappointed in the clothes my sister packed for her, and demanding of the nurses. So, pretty much at full steam by my reckoning ;)

It was good to see her, and I said I'd try to stop by Thursday night after the big feast if I wasn't fast asleep on the couch.

On the way home I stopped at Socialist's house to hang out for a bit and wound up taking home a stay kitten his wife had found abandoned in a local park. I called home first and asked Lisa for a "yes/no" and to my surprise she was quick to offer a temporary home to the beast.











So the search begins for a good home for the kitty. Socialist had given him my son's name, in honor of where he was found, but obviously that won't fly here. I've temporarily named her Veruca (if it's a girl) or Atticus/Spenser.

Anyone need a kitty-cat?

The Baby Einstein Debacle

When my nephew was born fifteen years ago I wasted no time in trying to secure his future. I didn't run out and buy stocks or bonds in his name, none of which I could afford as a college student. Instead I drove to the bookstore and scooped up anything with titles like "Your Baby Can Read!" and "Teach Math to your Infant!".

I remember knowing, with a faith bordering on the religious, that these tomes would give my nephew the head start he'd need to succeed in life.

Did it work? Well, no actually. He didn't read a book or do long division until elementary school (gasp!). While he's a bright kid, I'm afraid the only way he'll qualify as the next Edison is if the definition of 'genius' expands to include World of Warcraft skill.

I thought of those books when I read that the Disney corporation was offering rebates to customers who purchased their popular Little Einstein videos between 2004 and 2009. The videos feature simple images of toys, colors and shapes accompanied by music, and Disney shrewdly chose to market the product as educational for infants. That led to a a group called the Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood filling a complaint with the FCC in 2006. As a result, Disney complied with their demand and dropped the claim about its educational value.

According to the CCFC's own website, it wasn't enough. “We thought parents deserved better, “ the website said. And so, under pressure Disney agreed to a rebate for customers who bought the films “mistakenly believing the videos would make their baby smarter.”

Let's gloss over the fact that the 'rebate' only seems to encourage an investment in the product line, seeing as it primarily comes in the form of coupons or exchanges. What bothers me is the fact that this argument got any traction at all.

By the era of Little Einstein I was a parent myself, and yes, I bought a few of the tapes. I no longer had any illusions about tweaking IQ's, but my daughters found it fascinating and , if nothing else, it exposed them to classical music at an early age. Or so I said at the time. If I'm honest, it also kept them out of my hair for a few minutes, which made the videoes worth every penny. If most parents were as blunt, I'd think they'd concede the same thing.

As for the 'rebates', argue an objection to “screen time” for infants, and I might concede your point. But to base the objection on a failure to make a baby “smarter” strikes me as ridiculous. More so than even my thoughts that day at the bookstore. My goal wasn't to raise his intelligence, it was to jumpstart his education. Tomatoes/tomatoes? I disagree.

How do you define “smarter” in an infant? What standards constitute success or failure? And smarter than whom? Mom? Dad? The neighbor's cat? Remember, these are babies we're talking about. If you express disappointment that they 'only' possess their native intelligence – to the extent you ask a corporation for a refund based on that fact -what kind of message are you establishing for the next eighteen years?

There will always be products that cash in on our desire to help our children. Some will be sincere, some will be nothing more than patent medicine. Shut them down when they encourage harm, but I'd be careful about being smug when you do. Remember: in the end, they do nothing more than fill the need our own egos demand.

LuLu's 6th Birthday Party

Yes, yes. LuLu's birthday was in June, as was her party. Forgive me, but at least I posted it eventually, right?

She decided to have her birthday party at Rollaero, a local skating rink with an old fashioned hardwood floor. Her outfit for the day had been put together by Lisa as a present, and Lu LOVED it. Note the "Being 6 Rocks!" tshirt.





The favors for the party were Hannah Montana glasses filled with goodies, along with a Hannah Montana serving tray for each guest.



In attendence, all the usual suspects. Chris and her kids



My sister Chrissy and her daughters





My father in law and his wife



My Mom and Ginger





Some of Lu's friends



including Sarah, who couldn't skate because of a broken arm





Most of the party involved - naturally enough - roller skating. Lu is far and away the best skater among her friends. Sometimes I'd take one of them around the rink, but for the most part her pals inched along the wall.







Many of the kids did participate in the limbo contest, and if I'm right Meadow wound up winning it all.





Smiley skated too, for a minute. He soon thought better of it and hung out around the adults.



Soon it was time for cake.





















Followed by presents















There's not a whole lot more commentary to produce, other than to note that everyone had a blast and the party serenly took place while a thunderstorm raged outside :)

Happy (belated) birthday LuLu! We love you!!!!!

Possum Sighting

I just took the garbage out and happend upon a possum in our backyard, the first I've ever seen. It looked at me as if to say "WTF dude?", then calmly walked beneath the trampoline. I've been wondering what's been crapping in our (fenced-in) yard. Now I know.

Horrible

Listening to a Midway special. Horrific trivia I didn't know: the Japanese took American pilots captured in the battle - one of them a Milwaukeean - bound them hand and foot, attached weights to them and dropped them overboard to drown. The rationale/explanation: they were 'angry at news of their defeat'.

The Babe knocked out cold

Today ballparks feature padded walls and a warning track to preserve the health of MLB players. In the 1920's . . not so much.

While playing against the Washington Senators in Griffith Stadium on July 5th, 1924, Yankees right fielder Babe Ruth went after a slicing foul ball off the bat of Joe Judge. Ruth didn't get the ball, but he did find the outfield's concrete wall. He was knocked unconscious and lay prone on the field for as much as five minutes (!) before being revived.



An interesting bit of trivia about that day: future Negro League legend and MLB Hall of Famer Buck Leonard was in the right field stands that day, cheering on Ruth. During his lifetime Ruth had a large African-American following, in part because of the (mistaken) rumour that he was part African himself.

This & That, and Quotes of the Day

A few days ago I wrote (on Facebook) about how our cat Angelcakes knocked over YaYa's Beta tank and ate her fish. Wrong. She knocked it over all right, but never got the fish. I found it today on the floor, tucked behind some shoes.

With YaYa at a friends house I tried to dispose of the evidence by feeding it to our turtle, but it backfired. Quoting YaYa upon her return: "Why is my fish floating in Franklin's tank?"

Oopsies. Finicky turtle.

* * * *

Lisa came into the living room, saw the Oregon-Arizona game on the television, and said "Is there anything we can both watch?"

"Sure," I said. "The Oregon-Arizona game."

I flinched and readied myself for the gunshot, but she just rolled her eyes and took up residence on the love seat with a book. About twenty minutes later Arizona scored. Lisa looked excited. "I didn't think they were going to convert on that down. They've got a good chance to win now, don't they?"

I smiled and gestured to YaYa, who was sitting next to her Mom.

"See, that's a skill, and I'm not being sarcastic," I said, with genuine admiration. "Your Mom has no interest whatsover in this game, and no idea what just happened, but she'll do her best to involve herself in the conversation and make you feel comfortable. That's a people skill, YaYa, one I don't have. I hope you're taking lessons."

YaYa smirked. "Are you kidding? I fake interest in what you say all the time."

* * * *

Smiley's latest obsession: Sizzlers. They're a pair of black magnets in the form of tapered cylinders about an inch long. They make a sizzling sound when tossed together.

* * * *

Lisa was on the phone with a friend when I heard her scold Smiley. "Go wipe your butt! You're stinky! Did you take a poop and not wipe your dupa?"

About five minutes later Smiley walked up in his underwear, turned his back to me and said " 'mell my butt"

"Smell your butt?" I said. "No, little man."

He grimaced and stomped his feet. "Momma say it steenky. 'mell my butt."

"You wiped?" I said. He nodded.

"Good enough for me. Off you go."

"No. 'mell my butt."

I was convinced he was sincere, and only wanted me to get him off the hook with Lisa. And then I saw a glint of Dannyesque mischief in his eyes.

"Are you just trying to get your Daddy to smell your butt so you can laugh about me?"

He started to giggle. "Yeessss!", then ran upstairs.

* * * *

Here's another shot from Chuck E Cheese last week. This is Lulu and the birthday girl Meadow.

ISO

Target friends, can you keep an eye out for zhu zhus? I still need the grey one and the white one, then all 4 kids will have one from Santa :) Would like the garage attachment too! Hope you've been getting them in. - Lisa

I Screwup BIG

F*! I forgot the baby shower for my best friends wife. I lost the invite but had assumed - there's that word - that it was closer to the due date.  No way to get Lisa and YaYa e home to attend. My status as "Tre's Loser Friend" is assured. &*^@!

An Update, and news of my Mom

I've been neglecting this site lately, with nearly every post you've seen being yanked out of the "Scheduled" pile. I'll try to get some fresh material up shortly.

* * *

My Mom made it through surgery just fine on Wednesday. She gave the OK to explain what happened, so here goes: About two weeks ago she passed out in her bedroom after bleeding caused by what she euphemistically called "woman problems". I didn't learn of this until days later. Eventually, she went by ambulance to the hospital, where the docs said she'd lost much of her blood supply - as much as 2/3rds, from what I hear, but it seems like an incredible amount. She was still getting transfusions when I visited her days later.

On Wednesday she had a full hysterectomy and had part of her abdomen and glands (?) removed. She called me tonight with the biopsy results. It was, as they feared, uterine cancer. She claims that the doctor's said they 'got it all', but I'm much too superstitious to validate that claim in print.

I have a cold that's grown stronger over the last few days, so I've been unable to visit her. But I have to say, the phone call tonight scared the hell out of me. Not the content of the conversation, although that is frightening enough, but how she sounded.

Her voice so weak it was hard to hear what she had to say. When I could understand her it was clear she was in terrible pain. She blamed it all on being tired, but that was horseshit. I hope the next time we talk she sounds better, because this rattled me - it was all a bit harsher than what I'd anticipated.

Please, continue to hold her in your thoughts and prayers.

* * *

YaYa is at a friends house tonight, LuLu at Grandma's. We took advantage of the reduced population (and payday) to venture out for a fish fry at a restaurant we frequented in our pre-parenthood days. The food was so-so, but it was fun to dine out, and enjoyable to see Smiley and Ginger practice their table manners.

BTW, the day before yesterday we officially moved Ginger into a toddler bed. The kids were great about the whole thing, applauding her for being in a 'big girl bed', which greatly helped the transition.

* * *

I watched the Kansas-Memphis NCAA Basketball game the other night. It was great game, and while Kansas pulled it off they sure didn't look like a #1 ranked team to me, at least not that day.

* * * * *

Project Runway's finale was a preditible dissapointment, with Irina winning the competition with a solid, but stark and recycled collection. I think Carol Hannah put the best clothes down the runway, but she placed third. IMHO, a bland season, one that may go down as the year PR jumped the shark.

* * *

I wasted several hours on AMC's horrific 'reimagining' of The Prisoner. While the classic sci-fi/spy series continues to hold its own 40 years later, I thought the miniseries was a monstrosity. The "truth" of The Village was transparent and unoriginal, and it lacked all the wit and class of the original. 1.5 out of 4.

* * *

Lisa and I have taken to watching re-runs of the old Love Connection game show with Chuck Woolery.



It's a blast of nostalgia for us both, although I seem to have been a fan of the early years, while Lisa watched the tail end of the show's run. At times I find the concept emotionally awkward, like watching an accident in progress, but most times its a hoot. And those fashions! Time and again someone is announced as 26 or 31 and our jaws drop - they easily dress and appear ten years older!

Common Sense really

What is the point of a Kurt Cobain documentary that contains not one note of his music? I detest Courtney and relish acts of defiance against her  . . . but if she denies you his catalog then STFU and shelve the project.

My PR Predictions

Project Runway finale tonight. I'm rooting for Carol Hannah, but I think the wise money is on Irena (although I didn't care for the preview of her Bryant Park designs).

Sk8er Boy Smiley

These are just some random shots, taken the day of his first school bus ride.

Shield of Time

Following the enjoyable Time Patrol I wrapped up Anderson's work on the subject by picking up Shield of Time from the local library.

Once again the story focuses on Manse Edwards, Unattached Time Patrol Agent and James Bond/Indiana Jones of the genre. The book is slightly awkward in format, reading like distinct novellas patched together into a [more-or-less] coherent whole, but let's boil it down to this: Wanda Temberly, a woman featured in an earlier story, finds herself violating the rules of the Patrol in her effort to aid a Pre-Colombian tribe. It turns out she has a distinct role to play in the future, as does Manse. Through other adventures the pair seek to restore history to its 'proper' lineage after chaos brings about the death of a minor king in medieval Italy.

The writing is a bit sexist, as Wanda goes around stammering whenever her emotions get the better of her, and whoa to anything more than a kiss between these two 'honorable' agents.

But forget all that. Shield of Time is a fun read, full of interesting facts, fine writing, and high adventure.

Recommended.

Read in 2008.

The Dante Club

I began reading this on the fourth of July, 2008, sitting in a gazebo staring out at a private lake up north. It's a wonderful memory.

Then I put the book down, despite enjoying the first few chapters, and didn't pick it up again until this year. Go figure.

The Dante Club tells the story of a group of men working on translating Dante's The Divine Comedy into English shortly after the end of the Civil War. Perhaps you've heard of some of the men in question - Henry Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and James Lowell. It is, in effect, a club of literary giants.

A series of murders grip the city, each patterned after a punishment in Dante's work. As the pre-eminent Dante scholars in America, the group takes on the challenge of bringing the killer to justice, not just to stop the killings but to rescue the controversial work of Dante from being exiled from American soil. A noble goal, but one that just might bring them to the brink of death themselves.

It is a fine book, rich in historical detail and perhaps most impressively, it brings these poets to life as complicated, flesh-and-blood men with all the grace and failings that go with it.

I recommend this book to any fan of mystery, and/or history.

3.3 out of 4

Update

As of an hour ago my Mom was out of surgery and doing well (knock on wood)