THE DIGNIFIED RANT
HOME FRONT ARCHIVES 2004
“Christmas 2004”
(Posted
Christmas this year was a success. I don’t care if some think it is too
commercial. I don’t care if some think it is too religious. I don’t care if
some think it is not religious enough.
It is a great time of the year and I enjoyed the crowded malls and the
Christmas (or
And I enjoyed that Mister still believed in Santa (for possibly the last year). I pulled out all the stops with identical note pads from Santa at my place and Mister’s mom thanking Mister (and Lamb, too, at my Ex’s) for the snacks; and Santa note tags for both homes. Santa even left a present at my place for Lamb. Mister was thrilled. Lamb was dazzled by the lights though she is still too young to grasp the Santa thing—but understood opening presents. Mister was amazed by the Santa-NORAD tracking. Even though he kind of seemed to not pay much attention to it on Christmas Eve, he brought it up the next day with some awe. It was way cool.
Christmas was busy with morning at his mom’s; then Mister and Lamb went to his mom’s parents’ home for the afternoon; and then I picked up Mister for Christmas dinner and evening with my family (kudos to Durwood and Carol for a fine spread!).
The best parts?
All in all, a successful Christmas. Here’s Mister opening one present from Santa before bedtime on Christmas:
And here’s Lamb the next day quite happy with her haul:
People need to chill out in the Christmas wars and all that. It is a wonderful holiday when little children get such joy. God can surely approve of that.
“Summer’s
Last Hurrah” (Posted
Mister and I went to the Bash at the Big House on Saturday.
It was a game between
Mister and I sat in the Tech section and rooted for them to the bitter end in their 24-7 loss. Mister noted uncharitably that they kind of played like high schoolers. I told him to be nice (since there were actual Tech fans around us). Then again, one Tech fan likened them to 8th grade players, so what do I know?
It was a great day for a football game. Upper
50s and sunny. Not summer, I know, but still good for walking down to
the stadium and then back to my car a mile away. We had hot dogs and enjoyed
the afternoon. I really need to buy some tickets for
While the temperature was not really hot, it was a hint of summer activities.
We went to carnivals this summer. Near my parents, we went to a church carnival and Mister had a ball on the inflatable rides. Near my place, we hit the annual traveling carnival. Mister had fun on the rides:
Lamb enjoyed the sights, too:
We hit the Ann Arbor Art Fair. That’s the U of M “Cube” that Mister is spinning as is our tradition when we go to Art Fair:
In reality, our trips to Art Fair mean a bus ride downtown, a walk through the art where I look quickly. We drink freshly squeezed lemonade and eat Elephant Ears. Mister spins the Cube. And then we walk back to the bus station with maybe a visit to the library before we come home. Mister isn’t big on the art. My appetite isn’t much greater, I admit.
We had a train trip through
It was chilly but pretty. I’m a complete landlubber. When the remote control boat started to die out, I instructed Mister to bring her in before the batteries died. Did you know that rudder control dies before propeller power? Mister could not bring her home and the boat drifted into the sea grass. Luckily, as I pondered how the heck I’d make it out there, the wind turned the boat to the right heading and I gunned it out. As it drifted kind of nearby, I dove into the bay up to my waist to retrieve it. As I came back ashore, my former father-in-law asked me, “Do you itch anywhere?” Wonderful. That’s pretty much a question that guarantees you’ve been somewhere that judgment would have kept you away from.
Mister loves the place.
I even managed to get Mister kicked out of a casino by security on the way home:
Not to worry, I don’t gamble and I’ve impressed upon Mister the reason the casinos are so fancy is because the owners always win. And when slot machines are throughout the hotel, just how do they define just where the casino officially begins? Seemed rather a grey area to me.
Plus we’ve done other stuff I’ve written about already.
Another good summer. And time flies by. Alas, these summers will end all too soon, as is the way of life. Of course, Mister and I did go to that church carnival with my dad. There is hope after all!
“My Birthday Was
Stolen! (And I Don’t Miss It)” (Posted
I turned a year older today. Don’t worry, this isn’t an angst-ridden post about aging. I don’t feel old yet though I may be just fooling myself. Sure, 20-year-old women call me “sir” but perhaps they have military backgrounds and are just being polite to mask their intense attraction to me. Hey, I said no angst—not no delusions. Let me have my comforting myths.
But the point is that I am in the middle of that giant void of birthdays that just don’t matter. Turning ten mattered. Two digits! Turning thirteen mattered. Finally a teenager. Turning sixteen mattered. Driver license! Turning eighteen mattered. Hey, I can vote! Turning twenty-one mattered. Legal drinking age! Even twenty-five would have mattered had I owned a car since I think that is the age that insurance companies stop assuming males are drunken, one-handed drivers. And then of course there is age 67 when I can retire with full Social Security benefits. Ok, I’m assuming just as much here as my analysis of twenty-year-old female thinking, but the details aren’t really the point.
There is nothing about this birthday that really matters. I haven’t had anything in particular to note in years and won’t for many more years. And what do I need? I’m healthy, happy, and don’t really need anything. I don’t have expensive hobbies and I don’t pine for trips to distant (and expensive) tourist locations. I don’t need presents to prove that I’m loved or liked or respected. I’m good where I am. I’m content. My birthday is more important in that it is a time for Mister to give me a present. I usually want ties. My goal is to go the rest of my career without ever buying another tie. And Mister is appropriately conservative in his tie taste so I’m good with what he picks.
I’m not saying that I don’t celebrate. I hit the bar with a
few friends to watch the Boston-Curse game last night. I inadvertently
disturbed a cute
Even if I was eager to celebrate my birthday with bells and whistles, I’ve effectively lost it. Mister’s sister, Lamb, has the exact same birthday as I do (Yeah, now that’s a cosmic coincidence, eh?). How can I compete with a two-year-old who’s cute as a button? She has stolen my birthday. But how can I be upset with her?
I can’t be upset at all. Birthdays and presents and cake are for children. I haven’t been a child in a long time. A friend in college once said you can only be young once but you can be immature forever. He became a doctor. I assume he doesn’t buy that anymore either. Unless I have a really good mid-life crisis, childhood is well behind me.
The children are more than welcome to birthdays. And Lamb is welcome to October 28th as her birthday. I got nothin’ until 67.
“Go Blue!” (Posted
Mister and I went to the Michigan-Iowa football game today. I was worried that the prices would be a tad high after I checked prices on the web. I had a ticket and $100 to spend on tickets. I was not about to part with more.
So I picked up Mister from his mom’s and headed out. We had plenty of time since the roads were strangely clear. We parked kind of near the stadium behind some stores in a nearby strip mall, and walked the kilometer to the stadium. On the way there, a man asked if I needed tickets. Well, yes. Yes I do need tickets. He was asking face value which was more than my budget. I got him down to my cash and my ticket. I know that I probably (almost certainly) could have gotten tickets for less had I shopped around, but since we might not get a chance for another game this fall I really wanted to lock up a couple tickets. So I had our tickets. Section 5, row 36. Not bad seats at all, actually.
Of course, there was something odd going on. Traffic was
light on the approach to the stadium even though lots of people were out
tailgating. We made it to the stadium and as we neared, I knew something was
really wrong. There could only be one thing going on. This was not a
So I took a picture of Mister outside the gate:
And then we sat down outside the stadium and I considered our options. We could grab hot dogs and sit around for 3 hours trying to kill time. Or we could walk back to the car and go home to return at game time. Normally, I’d just go home but with Mister and another long walk—which was why I parked closer instead of just walking the mile-and-a-half to the stadium from home in the first place—I’d have just undone the parking advantage thing. And then I thought about the warning signs at the strip mall that threatened towing for non-customers. For four hours I figured I could get away with it. But now I’m looking at 8 hours. I parked in the back by the loading doors and figured that was pretty safe, but still. They might notice a car parked 8 hours.
So we walked back to the car. We went home and I made lunch. And then at game time we headed out to park in a different spot just in case. This one worked, too. I think my original spot would have worked just fine though, actually. Good to know even though next year Mister should be fine with the walk.
As we headed for the stadium, all was as it should be. Large crowds of people heading for 1201
We found our seats and Mister had a ball:
The game? It was good. A little touch and go in the first quarter until we settled in. We cheered and waved our hats. We booed the bad calls. We did the wave. A little 2-1/2 year-old girl kicked me occasionally as her aunt apologized. Not to worry, I smiled, those little feet weren’t going to harm me. At half time we made it through the assembly line bathroom and I passed down my stadium bathroom wisdom—if you drop something, let it go. The men around us seemed to appreciate the wisdom of my advice, too. But they may have been inebriated. We got our hot dogs and refilled the water bottle we still had and made it back to our seats just in time for the second half kickoff. I’d forgotten how fun this stuff is. I’ve gone with Mister the last few years but now he is old enough to last a game and last a half without a bathroom break. We were cheering, M-decked out fans. We won the game by 13 and happy Wolverines hit the field in celebration.
We headed out satisfied with our win. Mister was a little tired and was daunted at the walk ahead of us. So I hoisted him on my back and headed up the hill. He was quite happy for the rest and though Mister is getting bigger and I am getting older, I dug deep for Army body memory and slogged forward! One really big guy joked with Mister and asked him if he could take a turn getting a ride. After a quarter of the way, Mister was refreshed enough and he asked to get down. Mister was hoarse from shouting so I didn’t try to talk to him. We just walked along with the large crowd heading to their cars to go home. And as we walked in the cool fall evening in the fading light, I could hear Mister softly humming Hail to the Victors. Next year, I am definitely going to get tickets through the alumni association if I get past the lottery.
It was a good day, indeed.
Mattel Rules!" (Posted September 6, 2004)
I know I have been bitter that I could not find orange Hotwheel tracks for Mister's cars. Nothing on the website and I could never find them in stores.
Until yesterday, that is! The local Toys R Us had boxes of them that you could buy individually for 79 cents! I bought 8 with a plastic connector for each one. I probably should have bought more. The cashier said I was the second guy to express joy at this find.
Of course, they had no clamps to buy. Or curved, banked tracks. Come on Mattel, I'm running out of my son's childhood fast. Too fast.
"How Do People Work at Home?" (Posted
I actually took work home
yesterday. That is a rarity for me. I was scheduled to leave early for child
care duties and a rush request came in an hour and a half before I left. After
discussions with the requester we agreed that a draft by the next morning would
work just fine. Actually, had I gotten the file emailed to me quickly, I
figured I could get it done by the time I left. It did not arrive by the time I
left. So, I made copies for a colleague to back me up just in case they changed
their mind and had to have it that day by
To be fair, it really was no
problem considering it took me just a little over an hour to do and Mister
played happily on some retro computer games from my mis-spent youth and
earlier. I shudder to think about how Mister will react when he sees a Gameboy or some such modern game technology. Mister extols
to me the superiority of Asteroids over Asteroids Deluxe! As if he isn't
preaching to the choir!
But I can see how working at
home with a child for a full day would be really hard. Mister kept up a steam
of comments on his game playing and I dutifully did the "really" and
"oh yeah" or "that's good" reflex response (I was married
for thirteen years, after all). At one point after one of Mister's comments, I
told him that since I was working I might not be paying real close attention to
his commentary. Mister replied in a way that showed he had no problem with my
temporary parenting limitations. Of course, his response also gave clues to why
he had no problem with it. "That's why I said it twice," he added.
Dad is hard at work and not
paying real close attention to me, so what do I do? Quietly play or say it
twice? No contest.
A full day of that would get
real old real fast. For both of us, I imagine. I don't know how Lileks does it.
“Freedom of
Navigation” (Posted
It is of course well known in better-bred social circles
that the wild men of
So it is in the spirit of maintaining a Michiganian
presence in
Our first trip was to Wright Patterson Air Force Base near
But I digress (I love having no editors to hack away at digressions!).
We all went down to
The car trip to
I’m skeptical about the need for the F-22 in large numbers, but it is one heck of a fighter plane.
Anyway, we ranged through the early years so Mister could see the little kites that men sat on to fly and then through the World War I years. We checked out the speeds and Mister was amazed at how slow these planes were. By the inter-war years, the planes were looking more like planes with actual metal skins:
We skipped the Second World War stuff to hit the modern
stuff and then Mister really wanted to see the stuff outside so we rushed out
at closing to check it out, just ahead of the thunder storms coming. Dinner and then to the hotel, and then back to
Being cute is clearly a survival mechanism for children.
Mister and I had our next foray with the Toledo Zoo Father’s Day Snooze. We went with his buddy and his dad. Sadly, they’ve moved to another city and so it will be difficult to get them together. We will, but over time they will make new buddies and this will fade. But for now, they were happy to see each other for this trip:
We arrived Saturday after the zoo closed and were led in with our stuff to camp out in the zoo. We had fewer than 20 boys plus their dads. We got to see the animals up close as the zookeeper coaxed the Leopards up to the fence. We also got to pet some of the smaller critters:
I forget what mammal this was. There was a rat and a snake and a baby alligator, too.
We also had a pizza meal and then headed for the basement. The zookeeper explained how they train animals and she also gave us way more than we need to know about the state of labor-management relations in the zoo. I think she really needs to talk to her union steward rather than young boys. There was also a small little game that showed how construction encroaches on wildlife habitat. I think the lesson was lost on kids so young (the staff was actually expecting older kids) but since they got to hop around on paper bags in a kind of elimination game, they enjoyed it. One neat thing the kids did was to create treat bags for the wolves, gorillas, and llamas. The wolves got bags of spiced hay and the kids chose the spice. The gorillas got boxes of fruits and they apparently eat it all, box included. The llamas (Al Pacas, I think) liked wreaths laced with fruit and oatmeal slathered on. Mister helped with the wreath making.
We then went to the darkened aquarium to quietly walk around so the kids would wind down. Since this was a couple hours past Mister’s bedtime and I imagine most of the other kids, this probably wasn’t all that necessary. I was dog tired myself.
We bedded down in the small mammals hall under the Naked
Mole Rats exhibit. They were quiet enough. The only real noise was the
waterfall at one exhibit. We brushed teeth, rolled out our sleeping bags, and
Mister went right out. I tossed and turned. I had made the classic mistake. No,
not getting involved in a land war in
By morning, I was not quite rested but at least I wasn’t sore. I guess I’m not too old yet, requiring a ten thousand dollar mattress to combat whatever ails my lumbago or whatever. Indeed, the cute volunteer zoo lady who woke us up, asked me to relay the news of where to go since I seemed to be the only one up and running to retain what she said. That’s the Army’s fault. I can now get up instantly instead of lying in bed in misery until prodded.
So we had a continental breakfast, moved our gear to a central spot, and headed out into the pre-opening zoo to see the animals again.
We had the chance to see the animals eat their treats. First of all, gorillas are huge when you see them close up. I don’t care how gentle they are; just being near them is a little intimidating. Just how strong are those plastic walls? (Hey, we have a foreign policy insight here!) The wolves dragged their bags off and ripped into them. One wolf kindly defecated in front of us and the stench was just eye-watering. I backed off since the price of seeing frolicking wolves snacking was way too high at that point. We also saw close up the Al Pacas munching on their treats:
Interesting looking animals to say the least. The curly head fur reminded me of Prince or whatever alpha-numeric symbol he goes by now.
Mister really liked walking around the zoo before it opened. It was just us and the employees, and the animals were not shy yet. As it neared 10:00 am and gate opening, we headed for our gear and marched out to the entrance. Mister’s friend had to go home since his dad had a flight to make, so it was just the two of us for a bit more of the Snooze. We put our stuff in the car, and headed back in where the staff waited so we could re-enter without paying again.
We had an hour to kill before the brunch so we walked over
to the new
By this time, I noticed it was almost
The trip home was uneventful though of course we had to stop for a restroom. I will be happy when his bladder grows. Of course, mine will probably start shrinking when that happens.
Anyway, two good trips to
"Tiger Dunn" (Posted July 7, 2004)
Mister and I went miniature golfing recently for the first outing of the year. His pride in getting a hole in one is evident:
Way to go!
“Easter Eggs”
(Posted
I had the classic egg coloring kit as a child. Little tablets that you mix with vinegar and water and then dip the eggs in with metal dippers.
I get Mister the same stuff. Tradition, don't you know? Although I don't remember the fancy stickers that they add nowadays.
Silly frill if you ask me.
This is the result:
Still just as much fun, too! And this year I remembered how to hard boil the eggs well enough to actually eat them after Easter.
“Classic Playing”
(Posted
Once again, I must address Mattel. A plea actually:
Produce and sell the orange straight tracks, connectors, and curved tracks! And the clamp, too.
Seriously. All you produce now for the most part are gimmicky sets that have some aspect that you use to show excited boys watching on a commercial. It’s all motion and crashing and disaster averted narrowly. Those sets of yours are mostly worthless and I do not buy them. Yeah, what a great idea to sell a set with pieces that cannot be used again, but that has a giant snake that actually eats the car as it passes by! Let me tell you, after an hour of assembly and attaching decals, that toy will provide literally minutes of child enjoyment!
I only buy the sets that have imagination potential. Elevators, buildings, track pieces that can be reconfigured. With bits and pieces of other sets and a heavy book, Mister has been able to replicate the classic Hotwheels setup:
I never even prompted Mister. He discovered it independently because it is a fun way to play with the cars.
He gathered all of his vehicles and sent them flying down the road. Any car that flipped didn’t make the cut. After one round, those that survived went on in a second heat, and so forth, until one car was the winner.
Seriously, if Hotwheels won’t make the tracks and connectors, can’t some small company churn out Hotwheels compatible tracks and accessories? I’ve got to believe that there’s a market for this stuff. Because I am not buying Spider Smash—or whatever those things are called—ever.
“Take Your Child to
Work Day” (Posted
A couple weeks ago, my place of work had the take your child to work day thing. This year they went all out and I thought it would be a good time to take Mister. He’s seven and I wondered if it would be too boring but I thought I could take him to the new Supreme Court building and the museum after some of the early agenda stuff.
Then I was volunteered to tell the children about the committee process in the Legislature so I was stuck in the parts I thought Mister would bet bored by. Oh well. At least Mister would get to see dad in action. If I only need to fill 5 minutes, I imagine I could speak about anything!
The legislators went all out to make the kids feel welcome.
We paraded onto the House floor (and I’ve never even been on the floor before)
and the Representatives applauded as we entered. We filed in and I pointed out
the great carpet in the restored
Our next stop was in the gallery to watch the Senate. They were already in session and at one point they acknowledged the children who stood up to be applauded. That’s one thing that I’ve always thought was nice. No matter how busy, when a group of students is watching in the gallery, the legislators will pause to welcome them.
After this I had planned on cutting out but now duty called. I introduced the idea of the committee. Then one of the attorneys then described what the bill that we had for them would do. It was a real bill that was currently in the legislature. Another attorney then talked about the bill and the committee process. Since this was repeating what we had already covered before she arrived, I suggested that the kids pretend to be the committee and witnesses. This went over really well. The bill was about requiring volunteer work to graduate and the children had opinions on the matter. Children testified—mostly against. And then we had a canned amendment ready. That was voted down. The children/legislators made their own suggestions. Since this was the younger crowd of kids, I was impressed that they had some good ideas. They discussed and voted on amendments. Three amendments down and one was finally accepted. And then the committee voted to approve the bill and send it to the full house. We adjourned to the hall so the youngsters could use the restrooms before we went to the floor.
As we waited for the older kids to get out of their committee, I commended one young girl for her amendment that was passed. She asked if the bill was real and I said it sure is. You can even check on it at the Legislature’s web site. She asked for the address and I gave it to her. She said she wanted to make sure that her amendment was put into the real bill!
We had to wait for the legislators to wrap up session and
when we walked in, some of the legislators were there to run the mock session.
On a hunch, I headed Mister over to the seat of the bill sponsor. Since he is
from
So we sat there. I showed Mister in the Citizen’s Guide where the seat was and who the Rep is. I showed the little boy sitting next to Mister who he was pretending to be.
Then it was a blur of floor activity from the rostrum at the front. Who is the sponsor was the question. I told Mister to raise his hand.
Do you want to speak on the bill?
No, Mister answered.
Ok, then there were amendments. Mister voted and watched his name go up on the voting board. He really liked this. Then the gavel comes crashing down. Bang! Results announced and on to the next amendment. Different children were then brought up to announce the votes—and use the gavel.
As the amendment process wound down, one of the House clerks came up and reminded me that Mister would have to vote for the bill on final passage since he was the sponsor.
But of course!
Then the good part. As the vote was being made on final passage, a legislator at his desk with his child asked for the board to be cleared and for the sponsor to explain the bill. The Clerk of the House asked for the bill sponsor to explain the bill. Mister didn’t know what to say. No problem, come with me. So I led Mister to the microphone where legislators stand to debate. Mister announced his name and then I whispered a short defense of the bill. Mister repeated it faithfully. The Clerk smiled and announced that it was a fine explanation. He then asked for a repeat (since he saw one of our secretaries getting into position too late for a photo) and Mister did it all over again:
Then we voted and the bill passed.
Mister loved the voting. He wanted to do it more.
Sorry, bud.
Back for a nice lunch in the
Mister had a ball and he learned something. When he balked at picking up his toys from the dining table, I told him he’d best do it now since dinner was nearly ready. Mister did it but announced, “When I’m older I’ll introduce a bill that says that the kids are in charge!”
You do that, buddy boy. You do that.
“Road Trip to
Nowhere” (Posted
The Boy Scouts had another pinewood derby race this morning. All week, I stayed up a little late to file down the axles to improve Mister’s Maize and Blue car. Put the nail in the drill and run it across a file; then polish the nail and lubricate with the approved dry lubricant. The wheels spun much better than the original.
As the only Tiger Cub in his pack’s competition, he qualified to run in the Tiger race since he was technically the winner. What’s that about half of life is just showing up? Mister beat only a few other cars in the race at his pack but he still had fun.
Anyway, I finished the car Thursday afternoon so all I had
to do was pick up Mister from his mom’s early Saturday morning. I had the
directions from the website that the email referred me to and I was set.
Weigh-in was at
I made only one small wrong turn and that only took about
two miles to figure out before I turned around and got going the right way. We
made it by
I had Mister read the times off the email as we drove. The
last race was at
So 2-1/2 hours and 100 miles later, we made it home. A nice drive on a lovely day, actually. We chatted and saw the sights. And we did see a Scout camp site at least.
Sometimes it’s hard to totally screw up a morning.
“Hey, I’m Alive”
(Posted
Ok, sometimes it is kind of funny to see what search terms people use to find my site. I’ve had some weird stuff and I can assure you they were way disappointed when they read my site.
But today I note that somebody found one of my National Security Affairs pages by searching “brian dunn dead.”
Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I am quite alive. And healthy.
Darned spooky.
The cross-dressing and lesbian searches are looking better.
“Wasted Week—Sort Of”
(Posted
This winter has just sucked healthwise. I’ve gotten everything going around schools or work except head lice. I had the flu—despite also getting the flu shot; several colds; strep throat; and since last Sunday, some crud that started in my throat, moved to my nasal passages; and then to my chest. Knocked me right out. I took Monday and Tuesday off from work and then bravely went in on Wednesday. Bad move. Then took Thursday and Friday off, too. Luckily, this isn’t usual so I have tons of sick time available. I’ve never taken 4 days off for vacation in the last decade, so this could have been an opportunity to relax. Unfortunately, I’m into my second week without a television. I could have vegged watching news and sitcom reruns, but no, that option was not available. On Tuesday I called the repair place hopefully to see if the second TV tube they need to fix it was shipped in yet. No luck.
<digression>Actually, my TV
situation should be a whole entry. Back at the end of October I notice that I
lacked red in my TV. I know I once had it since once it was pointed out it was
clear that Mr. Krab was not red and Patrick was not
pink. I then spent two months patiently wrestling with the manufacturer to try
and get a repair company to honor the warranty. Finally, after getting the
designated company to finally tell me that they would not in any circumstances
come out to
To their credit, it was. A new company happily came out at the end of December and diagnosed it. Luckily, they came on a budget-induced unpaid day off. They then ordered parts and said they’d call to set another appointment. I waited. And waited. Only one call on my answering machine at home to say the part was on order. Nothing else. Finally, I called. They had cancelled my work order because they said they could not contact me. They had inexplicably called my cell number (which I usually leave off) even though they had my work and home numbers. So, they came out again. I took the day off, planning to go to work if they came early enough. The guy came. The part didn’t fix the problem. So, he figured he needed a new tube. Oh, and he finished up after lunch so a 70-mile drive to work seemed a bit much for a few hours of work.
After several calls to confirm the serial number on my TV, the part arrived! I arranged a last-call appointment so I’d only need to take a couple hours off of work. I said, call my cell phone since I’ll be on the way home. They call a half hour before appointment time to make sure you are there. I’d be on my way, I explained so call me on my cell. No call. Once home, with no highway delays, I left my cell on since I told them to call there. I received a call on my home number. Well that was lucky. Had I been delayed a bit, would they have not come after not reaching my at home? When I told them I’d be driving home even as the repairman would?
But relax, the guy is coming with a new tube. It’s quite nearly a new TV at that point. He arrived and installed the new tube. I think we all know how this story unfolds. The tube was broken. He ordered the new tube right on the spot and asked if he could just take the TV so that the next time they called, it would be to let me know I had a working TV. He apologized for the problems. Fine, I said, haul it off.
Nearly two weeks later I do not have a TV. And I was home for a week sick. </digression>
So basically, I’ll never buy a JVC product again. Unfair as that might be, starting my sixth month without color and now no TV at all has put me off on the brand. They could have shipped me a whole new TV and cost themselves less than this warranty-covered repair will cost them. And perhaps kept me as a customer when one day I buy a high definition flat screen TV (one day, but I refuse to buy a TV that I have to use a loan to “afford”). On principle, I can’t allow myself to get too upset since this is just TV—not an iron lung or something.
The really sad part of this is that public radio (yeah, I know, but they do have news as long as you filter what they say with actual knowledge of history and world events) has been begging for money this week so listening to the radio for news on NPR was more of a chore than usual. When it rains it pours.
Anyway, I have managed to blog more. And read news online. And even read a good chunk of Carnage and Culture. And pick up Mister from school which I can rarely do. I even pulled myself out of bed Monday morning to take him when I was still in the denial stage of the illness (this isn’t so bad, after I’m up a few hours I’m sure I’ll feel fine… yeah right). And since I picked Mister up, I could make dinner and spend more time with him after school at home. He liked that too, as the look on his face when I showed up to get him clearly indicated. (Ah, good dad feeling) Plus, he’s old enough not to require tiring attention and playing when I take care of him. I really just had to get up to make dinner and that wasn’t too bad.
During Saturday I finally started to really feel like I am getting better. This morning, after waking up feeling lousy, I did feel better after standing for twenty minutes.
Still recovering, but work clearly beckons Monday morning.
But I’ll still need to take time off to be home when the TV is finally (I remain stubbornly optimistic) fixed and returned to me.
When I’m better, I really need a trip to the pub and a few beers. Real soon after I’m better. Never know when the next plague will strike me.
“Pinewood
Friday night was the Pinewood Derby.
I wasn’t sure if it was going to be on until Friday when I called the Scout guy to make sure. All week I’d worked on the car to finish it up. Mister did the painting and sticker-placement, but the rest really had to be up to me. I feel good that Mister did as much as possible. I had to hacksaw the weights to try and get the car up to 5 ounces. I used a baby scale, squinted, and tried to eyeball five ounce change. As it turns out, I was pretty close at 4.6 ounces. I had heard that the wheels are a weak spot so I glued the axles in to the slots and covered the slots with balsa wood slabs to reinforce them. That worked out perfectly. I lubricated the axles too, but apparently (and I found this out at the derby) you really need to specially sand the nail axles and polish them in order to get real speed. Oh well, I’ll know for next year.
I took the car with me to work just in case I needed to
leave work early and get Mister from his mom’s parents.
I left at
I finally made it through the bottleneck and sped on. Only a half hour late. I quickly did the math and figured my
ETA to pick up Mister would be about
Then on 23 South, the brake lights went on ahead of me. I could see flashing police lights! Dang! Another accident! The second one??! Tonight of all nights? Argghhh! But this time, the major backup was going north even though the accident was on the southbound side. After a minute I was through!
[Note to those who might be doubting my humanity, both accidents appeared to be mere fender-benders with no injuries, as far as I could tell.]
Once inside
I patiently waited. Some scouts cut in line and the Scout guy was oblivious. I suppose I could have pointed this out to the kids, but they were kids and I knew we’d get through regardless of the order. So I waited. I waited with some disappointment in what scouting taught those kids, but waited.
I donated my spare weights to another scout’s car that brought it up to the limit. Sadly, all the spare weights were gone by the time Mister’s car weighed in under 0.4 ounces. I dug in my pockets for change. No go. I pulled a mystery key off my key ring. Another dad tossed in a quarter and a nickel. Five ounces! I ran to my car to get more change for other cars just in case. I substitute two nickels for the key—just in case I have it for a reason. A little hot glue and we were ready to go!
Mister sat in the stands and waited while I prepare to run the cars from the finish line to the start line. There would be twelve rounds of rotating races. As the races went on, I ended up being the pit crew repairing minor damage to cars. One was a real moral dilemma. Mister won only 3 or 4 races and one car that was pretty slow came into my hands. I hated to fix a sure win for Mister but I degunked the glue tying up one wheel. I lubricated it too. It went better the next race and the scout owner was grateful. Still slow, I replaced the wheel in its entirety. It still lost every race but at least it made it to the finish line!
When it was all over, Mister came in 7th out of nine scout racers. Not bad. He was mildly disappointed but had fun playing as I helped pack up. I even pointed out that he had beaten some experienced older scouts. He was still a Tiger! But mostly, he had a ball.
We may go to another race this year. If he’s interested, I’ll redo those axles. This is a regional and will likely have tougher competition. And if not, I’ll know better for next year.
Here’s the Maize and Blue, Go USA wonder that blazed to glory on Friday:
Most kids obviously had lots of parental help in decorating.
Others clearly not any. Mister did pretty well for his
own handiwork, I think.
That’s the Most Patriotic Car ribbon he earned, by the way.
Everyone earned one of those! We made up the categories before the race
started.
“Foreshadowing
Idiocy” (Posted
I saw the first hints in my 7-year-old son that one day he will join an endless line of teenage cohorts that believe their parents are idiots.
Mind you, right now I’m still in the demi-god category of all-knowing genius.
Anyway, we were walking into his mom’s house one night and as we were heading in, Mister brought up Christmas. It had been well over a month since then and Mister seemed to be questioning Santa’s existence. I mean, not an outright questioning, but some doubt. He then noted that his doubt was contraindicated by the fact that the Santa tags and notes from Santa at our place and at his and mom's place were identical.
Whew, my efforts on the computer were not wasted!
But then, Mister mentioned that I could have still worked with mom to make sure they were the same.
Uh oh. Think fast evil daddy. Lie for the cause!
Well, I said, that is true. But do you really think that mom and dad could have worked together that much to make sure the tags were all the same?
After only a moment, Mister snickered and said, “That’s true! I doubt it.”
I was relieved that the crisis of faith seemed to have passed. I’m not sure when children lose their Santa belief. But his wonderment at how Santa knows him well enough to get him toys that Mister like even when he didn’t ask for them is apparent. It’s a long way to next Christmas and he’ll have to survive part of second grade before the big day, so belief could die yet.
But it later disturbed me that belief was saved by another belief—that mom and dad could not possibly be swift enough to coordinate a simple Christmas scam. The mere suggestion of it caused him to laugh!
Oh well. Mister is seven years old and in only six years he’ll be a teenager. I fear that parental idiocy doesn’t wait for the teen years. I honestly can’t remember when my parents became idiots. Then there will be the lean years of Mister’s youth to endure. Oh, one day he’ll realize that his dad isn’t an idiot who doesn’t understand anything. I know I did so Mister will recover from his delusion, too.
But I caught a glimpse of my looming drooling idiocy. And it isn’t pretty.
“Blogging Stations! Blogging Stations!” (Posted
This is my standard blogging position. The globe is to my left. Reference books to the right. Sometimes I lean out of my chair to check a thought.
Beer is optional.