PuppDaddy

Ultimate Burger Smackdown: Extreme Makeover Idol Apprentice Edition

2009-02-05T20:07:00.005-05:00

I've never met a Californian -- nay, even a casual Cali. passerthrough -- who would dispute the superiority of In-N-Out's burgers or the overal specialness of the In-N-Out dining experience. The burgers are unique in their construction and ingredients. The fries are fresh and free from fast food flavor crusties. The menu is boldly short and simple, but the super secret rumor-only menu variations give it an insider brotherhood cool factor.

Lately though I've learned from friends of a burger joint here in State College that compares (no one has claimed superiority, merely comparability) to In-N-Out.

Which, no matter how you broil it, is really saying something. This I did not take lightly, the possibility that burgers even a fraction as phenomeal as In-N-Out's were being consumed only miles -- not states -- away from Pine Grove Mills and it's very finest RC car painter's taste buds. No, I took very seriously my duty to investigate and report for the benefit of worldly, discerning burger afficionados everywhere. And for you, both of you, reading the Barking Blog.

So Max and I went out for that rarest of lunches, the Lux Graphics-Sponsored Dude Lunch. We were foiled in our mission by a kitchen fire that had temporarily rendered the Five Guys restaurant unsanitary and unsafe according to our friendly local health inspector. As my son would say, epic fail. This was followed by my complete failure to remember anything about the important mission I've described. For weeks. Maybe more than a month.

On a recent road trip with some fellow ex-pat west-siders, we were lamenting PA's lack of both good Mexican food and of course In-N-Outs. This reminded me of the guys . . . all five of them. The name of the challenging burger pit is Five Guys. Five Guys Burgers & Fries. That is where my mother took me for lunch today, and that is where we were given this . . .

After thoroughly empirical investigation, all solely and sincerely in the name of science and sensory aesthetics, I can testify that the following is true . . .

History, Ambience and Coolness: DRAW. Both establishments have colorful local histories, simple short menus, and youthful cool quirkiness to spare. While I/O has free bumper stickers teens can cut up to say "In-N-Out Urge", 5G has free peanuts to munch while waiting in line. 5G has more room inside and a tad less sterile atmosphere, but I/O has locations up the wazoo so there is often an I/O conveniently on-the-way to wherever you're going.

Presentation: In-N-Out. There is really no contest on this one. Many restaurants fail to present their meals in such a tidy and calculated way as In-N-Out. The burgers all appear to be neatly tucked into beds of hospital white. Whatever combination of burgers and fries you get, it always fits perfectly into their little brown box. No, I don't always eat it in the car. But I say I will, just because I like to see the burgers presented so professionally. 5G's presentation is Wendy's Sloppy-Chic taken to the ludicrous extreme . . .

The tinfoil is enough to offend, almost, until you taste the burger and see how it fits with the whole 5G package.

Fries: Five Guys. Now just put those glocks and nines away for a moment, my LBC crip-walking, regulating Gs and sho'ties. Even you, the most avid and enthusiastic In-N-Out'ers, must admit that I/O fries are a love-hate, hotly contested topic. Even among the devoted. No one on the planet makes fries as fresh and potato'ey and, well, as LEGIT as In-N-Out. Heck they julienne the spuds right there where you can see them from the drive-thru! And you must admit -- it's something to do with a lack of special "coating" or something -- they don't stay warm but a few minutes. And all that freshness, potatotude and legitimacy are just soggy and gross once they are cold. Which is often just a few stoplights away from where they were so attractively presented to you.. Ew.

Even those who LIKE the I/O fries -- hot or tepid -- would have to admit 5G has got it goin' on in the fry department. That grease you see soaking through the bag? That's because they fill your cup of choice with fries, then shower another scoop or two over the full cup, the burgers, and anything else in your bag. Love 'em or hate 'em, there are lots of 'em. They are not as fresh as I/O's, but the skins are still on 'em, they are thicker, and they do have that seasoning-free potato'ey taste. They are a little greasyer, but I swear that helps them to actually stay warm for the duration of your meal.

Burger: In-N-Out. This one is tricky. The 5G burger is definitely special, and for many of the same reasons I/O's are. Both have real, fresh ingredients. The lettuce is green and the tomatoes are red and flavorful (no minor miracle in PA in February). The burgers are fried, but hand-formed and with some broiler-like crunch to them. But overall they have a different character. 5G's burger reminds me of what Eddie Murphy called a "Houseburger". It's the very best houseburger, better than what you're likely to toss together on your own Weber, but the doughy sesame bun and roundness of the patties (another plus, 5G's "regular" has 2 patties) restrain the burger from achieving greatness.

In-N-Out does things to their burgers that are either too labor intensive or just plain innovative for us to do at our own backyard BBQ. This elevates the I/O Double-Double to mythic status. Each thing is seemingly small, but put them together and they do a Gilbert & Sullivan Broadway ensemble dance number on your tongue that will have you singing their jingle all the way to the OTHER In-N-Out that's on your way to wherever you're going. WHAT exactly to they do?

-Buns are made of light foamy dough, then grilled in butter for a slight toasty crunch.

-Non-burger ingredients are placed UNDER the burger. This is a classic deli strategy, and a very effective one. It means you TASTE the ingredients when you bite in. It is not very photogenic however, this is no doubt one of the reasons they wrap all but the first bite of your burger.

-Special sauce. It may be thousand island dressing. It may be ketchup mixed with mayonnaise. But it's more than I'm willing to brew for my own burger, and aside from the Big Mac no one has made it really work for them. I'll eat a Lunchables just for the packet of herb sauce. I'll eat a plate of fish-sticks just for the tartar sauce. And I'll take the long way home if it means a Double-Double's special sauce is "on the way".

Overall: In-N-Out. These are my theories as to what elevates the In-N-Out burger to another plane of burger quality than any other. I'm surely missing some things, and both of you I hope will remind me of them. I WILL be back to 5 Guys as soon as it's affordable, and I will enjoy the burger almost as much as the fries. Their prices are higher than I/O but there is a proportional increase in the serving size so the value is equal and as such higher than most lunch places. I'm pleased to report, however, that In-N-Out is still king of the hill.

Stay tuned for Mythbusters: Extreme 1st Grader Reindeer-cicle Science Edition . . .

If I Have to Explain, You Wouldn't Understand

2009-01-04T19:53:00.001-05:00

Cheese Zombies

2 cups warm water
1/4 cup sugar
4 1/2 to 5 tbs. yeast
6 cups flour
1 tbs. salt
1/4 cup shortening

1. Dissolve sugar and yeast in warm water. Add remaining ingrdients and mix with a dough hook for about 10 minutes, until dough is soft and pliable. Let dough rest a few minutes, then divide it into 1-pound portions. Roll the portions into logs. Cut each log into five equal pieces.

2. Place your favorite filling (cheese, barbecue chicken or pork with sauce, ham, sausage, ground beef, pepperoni, Sloppy Joe, scrambled eggs) on top of each dough slice, then pull dough up from the sides to cover filling. Pinch closed. Place zombies pinched-side down on a greased pan. If desired, brush with egg wash.3. Bake in a 350-degree oven until zombies turn light golden brown on top, about 15 to 20 minutes.

Danke Schoen and the Brick House

2008-12-03T20:25:00.003-05:00

Gramma Gaye thought Max's new hairdo looked like Wayne Newton. Max:

"Who's Wayne Newton?"

This led to a short lecture from Dad about one of the hardest working showmen on the planet, and his somehow-ageless, never-graying, gravity-defying hairdo. I did a google image search, and came across a photo of a very young Wayne Newton. Separated at birth?

The nose is all wrong, and young Wayne's got a better dental plan than we do, but between the dimples and the hair, it's fun.

AK has now officially rocked the Millers Analogy Test, the Graduate Records Exam, and her Math Ed. Graduate interview. She's done all the filing and forms and is a shoe-in for acceptance to the Masters program at Penn State. There is an assistantship she is way qualified for, and she had the whole Math Ed. team pushing for it (it's technically through the Ed program, not Math Ed . . . ) but alas it is only for doctoral students. However, her recommendations and credentials were so glowing that the Ed people are going to try and find something for her to get paid for. That interview is January 16th, giving The Lovely and Talented Mrs. Hults plenty of time to wig, worry and otherwise freak out. Here she is all gussied up like a pro in her new X-mas outfit, new bag, and the earrings her mother left behind at Thanksgiving . . .

OUCH Hot Mama! She's a burrrrr-ICK -- houuuuuuse. She's mighty mighty . . .

Quelle Difference

2008-11-29T03:41:00.004-05:00

Marriage is a complex and confuddling arrangement sometimes. But with all of the confuzzling befusion, I am grateful to have only a small handful of fundamental incompatibilities with The Lovely and Talented Mrs. Hults.

The most fundamental incongruity of our marriage manifests itself in many ways, but most notably perhaps at this time of gift-giving every year. I don't know what to call the mis-match. It goes deeper, but on the surface it's a "Gifting Disparity". Or a "Film Faction". I think it's about our approach to anticipation . . .

See, AK wants her gifts now. NOW. No shaking of the package, no speculation concerning it's contents, no sugar-plums dancing in her head. No anticipation. No hiding of the gifts or keeping of the secrets. And it's not just a preference for her. The things that I relish about gift-giving, the mystery and the delicious anticipation, would cause her great emotional stress. It took me awhile to accept this, but I've slowly come to embrace this as part of The Package. I don't understand it, but I accept it. I'm even learning to like it.

As I said, it manifests itself in many ways. Throughout the year this love-hate relationship with anticipation (I love it, she hates it) shows up in our opinions about movies. It's not that I like one kind of movie and she likes another. No. I like all movies and she likes none. Films are like rides in an emotional theme park to me. Some are wild, some are mild. But all of them take you for a lovely, harmless ride before depositing you right back where you started -- in the real world. I find that these short excursions provide me with inspiration and perspective on my actual life. They teach me lessons, they pump my adrenaline, they plumb for tears of sadness and joy, and they project me into exaggerated realities so that I can learn to be the hero my real-world family needs me to be. I'm sure TLATMH would enjoy this metaphorical movie theme park of mine. But her deep-seated need to NOT BE SURPRISED at any time in any way by any thing prevents it I'm afraid. Should she walk in on me watching a movie, in the final few minutes of deus ex machina plot resolution, she will riddle me with questions: "Who is he? Why is he doing that? Is she going to be OK?". Should she indulge me and settle down to watch a whole movie with me? 5 minutes into the film she's asking the same questions. And she's not asking due to curiosity, she's asking from desperation. Not knowing the ending is legitimately traumatic for her and tantamount to 90 minutes of mental and emotional torture.

I will not speculate as to how this condition of hers came about. And that's hard for me to promise. Because I'm a troubleshooting failure analysis problem fixing mikky fikky, you understand. I won't call it Mysteryphobia or a need-to-control. Nope. I won't. I choose not to.

What I've learned is that those would be the easy choices. The brave choice is to not make this difference between us a problem that needs fixing, but to instead appreciate this difference between us. While so many aspects of our personalities are similar (we never have heated political discussions or finance or parenting arguments . . . ) wouldn't it be BORING if we weren't really near-disturbingly DIFFERENT in some ways? So no, I'm not right and she's not wrong. We're different. She's different from me, and in this way she teaches me the very best, very hardest lessons about life and about myself.

Can you tell I'm still working on embracing the movie thing? Yeah.

But I'm getting there with the gifting. For example, this year, for X-mas, I have already purchased my "big" gift. I purchased it. She will hide it and wrap it, and I will wait until X-mas for it. The old me would have wretched and plotzed a purple brick at the very thought of this. No mystery, it's true. But it's not true that there is no anticipation. I WANT the gift, it's the big thing I want, but I don't GET it until X-mas. There is some hardcore anticipatin' going on here people. In fact, what I now get to experience is the good anticipation minus the lingering fear that she won't get me what I really want. That happens, even in the closest of relationships, and it's fine. When it's happened, and it's happened for each of us, we don't take it personally or blame the other. But it still leaves us without that THING we so wanted and spent all that time anticipating! By leaving behind my immature fantasy that my wife will always read my mind, know exactly what I want in exactly what way, fund the purchase, hide it, keep the secret and "surprise me" -- I've discovered a way to aleviate at least a little of my usual holiday season anxiety.

You know, I probably developed that fantasy watching too many romantic comedies.

I'm afraid I sound selfish, going on about what I want. And I know I sound like a whiner about the movies. Gimme time, I'll get there . . . . But I hope to write instead about the intricacies of gifting and that most important gift, the one we get our spouse. The more I "mature", the more I see that we have to let go of some fantasies in order to learn, change and still grow ever closer to our life partner.

How do you gift with your hubby/wife? And is it the same as it was in the beginning?

Mythbusters: Extreme Poodle Explosion Edition!!!

2008-11-24T21:24:00.003-05:00

Actually it's the just the Poodle Edition. But no one watches unless there are extreme explosions these days. With the above title, PETA will probably get word of it, hold a press conference, protest and threaten legal action at the very mention of blowing up domesticated animals -- totally awesome press. We'll kill in the ratings!

Emily is concerned that rash, exaggerated stereotypes of poodles have propagated our culture for years. She'd like to take this moment to clear things up. Poodles have been portrayed as french, fussy, demure, foofy (not fofee, but foofy) and feminine.

Emily would like to assure you that while these things can be true -- as they can for any domesticated canine -- poodles are above all else dogs. Emily eats bad-for-her human food, then throws it up on our carpets. Sometimes she eats non-to-barely-digestible items that somehow come out her other end intact. She farts. She licks people, other animals (indiscriminantly) and her own hoo-ha. And should any poodle myths persist, this is how she spends an astonishing amount of her time . . .

Another Mondegreen As I was driving to Buffalo last Saturday I listened to Elton John's Greatest Hits on my iPod and remembered how baffled I used to be by some of his lyrics. In the days before we could Google any song's lyrics in seconds, we just made up what was close and sang along! From Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting:

"Don't give us none of your aggravation
we've had it with your Death Star plan
Saturday night's alright for fighting
get a little action in

Get about as soiled as a diesel train
gonna get this dance alright . . . "

Mysteries of The Unexplained That was the name of an old TV show, and it bugged me to no end. It's subtitle should have been "From the Department of Redundancy Department".

In my years I've learned a little about business, and one of the things I've learned is that usually things aren't done unless they are profitable to do. This occurs to me every time I get e-mail spam and every time I get a phone call from a machine. My theory would suggest that the company sending e-mail spam and the company with the people-calling machine wouldn't be in business unless there was some modicum of success in their sales pitch. So what I want to know is WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? Someone, somewhere, even today as spam has gone down in volume (no doubt to it's diminishing effectiveness as a selling tool . . . ) gets the same e-mail I got and says

"Darn, that's quite a bargain on Viagra, Cialis and Levitra! I'd like to discreetly order some for my erectile dysfunction now"

Do you know this guy? I do not know this guy. Then there is the guy who answers his phone and hears "Please hold for an important message blah blah blah blah" -- and actually waits on hold with the machine that called him, so another machine can play him a recorded message. Are you that guy? Can you help me find that guy? He's out there. He's a member of a substantial market percentage, wherever he is. Otherwise the other 97.843% of us wouldn't be getting those darn calls.

Smart and Pretty That's what Alaska is. I tell her this constantly, but it has little effect on her sometimes fragile/sometimes hearty sense of self because somewhere along the line she concluded that I am certifyably insane. Because of this, my opinions about prettiness and smartitude are skewed and invalid. But today, The Lovely and Talented Mrs. Hults feels as lovely and talented as she is, and however that happened it is a triumph for this at-least-occasionally-and-partially-insane husband to see her glowing so.

I'm betting that the pretty feelings come from her cute new haircut and her new interview/church outfit. And I know that the smart comes from her curve-busting performance on the Miller Analogy Test today. My lovely is trying to get admission to Penn State's Math grad program, and she's also hustling for that rare thing: a Masters Assistantship. She's well positioned for both, and needs only to let her pretty smartness shine through in her departmental interview next week. Huzzah Mrs. Hults!

Little Darlings

2008-11-20T01:14:00.002-05:00

Ben and Milo get to do reading/writing work with the 2nd graders. Which is wonderful, because we adore the 2nd grade teacher. Today she had to share these writing assignments on "Thanksgiving" because she thought them so funny. Not only is it an example of how our identical twins are not so much with the identical sometimes, it's also an example of them spontaneously trading personalities since each is more typically in character for their brother . . .

Here is Ben's:

And here is Milo's:

Usually Milo's much more likely to wax emotional and Ben is more grounded in the material. I'm with both of them. I'm grateful to Heavenly Father for MEATS! I'm totally putting that in my next invocation. If I ever get asked again. Us converts are a little squirrely you know.

Snubbed once again. I can't tell you how many times I've been passed over by these people. Not only am I almost usually the 51st Most Beautiful Person, but on this occasion . . .

. . . I came in as the 131st Smokin' Hot Guy. What can a smokin' hot guy do to increase his smokin' hotness? I'm already bald, Mormon & a unicyclist! Maybe I shave too much.

Mondegreens

2008-11-18T22:13:00.002-05:00

I'll leave it to the academics to correct me, but I think that is a totally documented acceptable word now. And I may be wrong here too, but I think it was originally coined by a columnist named Jon Carrol in my old favorite, The San Francisco Chronicle. Mondegreens are what you thought that song lyric was. Examples:

In the Fairfield Four's "Come On In This House" I could swear he's singing "Our Father, who art in heaven, Howard be thy name"

From another room, while Snow's "Informer" is playing, AK yells "What's he singing about a farmer?"

In the 5th grade, Ron Prasky thought Prince was singing about a raspberry parade.

Toddler Max, in his car seat, in the back of AK's Honda CRV, had a love affair with a CD that came free with a happy meal in Iowa. He felt a kinship with the artists, "The Back Seat Boys".

What are your mondegreens?

Wrestling With Angels

2008-10-29T13:16:00.006-04:00

It's an old-school story about Jacob physically pounding a blessing (or redemption for sins against his brother, depending on your source) out of an angel. No matter your source, he gets his blessing but he doesn't come out without scars from the fight. The stories are sometimes a little out of my reach. But often paintings like this one from Gustav Dore and this one from fellow Frog Eugene Delacroix . .

. . . really help me by (as any work of quality art would, according to Heidegger) putting/projecting me into their own world. And I belong in these worlds right now. I really need to believe in this moment that humility and supplication are not the only paths to blessings. I'm ready to fight and I'm ready to bear the dislocated hip or the fat lip or the bruised ego or whatever it takes to get things on the right track for my career/our family's finances.

For those of you who think my turning for symbolism to what you might (generously, for some of you . . ) call superstition to solve very real temporal problems -- I can assure you that if were a Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist or Agnostic -- I'm doing all the secular stuff I know to do already: networking, tracting, resume-spamming, applying and chasing down every lead. A little faith can't hurt. Maybe you can get behind Reverend Book from the Firefly series: "It doesn't matter what you believe. But you have to believe".

Look at those paintings, the angels don't appear to even be trying. It doesn't appear to be about the battle for them at all. Perhaps it's about Jacob's will, commitment of physical being and faith that their blessing is more than worth a thorough ass-kicking.

Watch your wings, I'm bringin' it.

Happy Octoberween!

2008-10-27T23:32:00.007-04:00

Max chose The Cheat for his jack-o-lantern . . .

.

Ben and Milo wanted Pom Pom and the 8-bit peasant from the Trogdor Burninator game . . .

These are all from http://www.homestarrunner.com/, which you should recognize as among the very best internet sites for wasting valuable time. I'm afraid that I am a stalwart fan of the site, finding an eerie kinship with Coach Z, the Minnesotan rapper. I wanted to put Peacey P, ("the best guest rapper in the music biz, I don't even know who's song this is . . . ") on "my" pumpkin. but AK informed me that it was "our" pumpkin (she did grow it) so it has "AK *heart* CH" carved in it now. So there it is. Halloween. The day that we set aside for the celebration of flash animation web sites that suck precious time into the vaccuum of the past.

Wal Mart Slippers. No, those arent' slippers you buy at Wal Mart. That's the new name for my comfy fuzzy (but decidedly manly Forest Green) house slippers. I think my mother got them for me last X-mas, on account of me spending all winter painting in my workshop with only commercial indoor/outdoor carpeting between my tootsies and the concrete floor. Yes, I'm a fully testonsteron'ed 6'3 man, and I just referred to my feet as tootsies. Deal with it. As the chill has crept in this past month, I find my best defense is the following podiatric recipe: one pair of sport socks, one pair of AK's hand-knit-wool-warm-but-scritchy-and-a-little-stretched-out Yarny Socks, all covered by one pair of fuzzy green manslippers. Once this detailed recipe has been assembled, is it worth it to CHANGE all of my footwear to leave the house? Well, that depends. Am I leaving the car or just taxiing munchkins from point to point? If I am leaving the car, will I be seen by John Q. Public or will it be fellow harried parents who are less likely to judge my kicks and more likely to think "score! I'm totally not changing out of my slippers next time". Well, while we all joked about Daddy strolling the aisles of Wal Mart in his slippers last week -- today I again found myself at Wally World sporting the sock/sock/slipper triple-whammy of warmth, comfort and trendsetting style. So it's obvious a line exists, and on one side of the line are slipper-worthy destinations, on the other side are establishments that for one reason or another require changing into more civilized footwear. Where do you draw your line and why?

Sexy Sexy. AK and I listened to The Pretenders' "Chain Gang" on the radio today and I pontificated -- as I am wont to do -- on the seductive lilt and style of Chrissy Hynde's voice. I began to assemble an authoritative and rock-solid, irrefutable list of the sexiest voices in entertainment. But that didn't work. So here is my half-sorted, seat-of-the-pants and refutation-begging list:

-Chrissy Hynde: She somehow manages to moan and sing at the same time. She's mysterious insofar as her bangs have always been so long . . . to this day no one knows what she really looks like. She sang a duet with UB40 about cheating called Breakfast in Bed, so sultry and inviting that it almost justified infidelity. Almost.

-Toni Braxton: Delicious contralto goodness. Anita Baker but, you know, hot. Who cares if she can dance?

-Kathleen Turner: I don't know if she can sing or not, but I've set through some real stinkers of movies just to hear her voice for 90 minutes.

-Macy Gray: I should also throw Tracy Chapman in here with Macy Gray, they seem so similar to me. It's as though Tracy Chapman finally found some good anti-depressant medications . . in the late 90s . . . and then changed her name to Macy Gray. Modern folk music from a strong-yet-feminine point of view. But really. Have YOU ever seen them in the same room at the same time?

-Alison Moyet: She was the singer for Yaz (Yazoo in the UK). Yaz was Vince Clarke and Alison Moyet, then when she went to sing Christian for a living synth-genius Clarke made Andy Bell his pop-music mouthpiece and they were then Erasure. Now, Alison Moyet belongs on this list all by herself. But I also want to sneak Andy Bell in here. I asked AK if he could be on my list, even though he's a guy. She said no. I pointed out that he's an extravagantly homosexual guy, probably happy to be lumped in with female singers of any kind, let alone sexy-voiced ones, and that didn't seem to help at all. Still not so much. Both of these singers have range and power (and wear dresses) but we'll just list Alison for now.

Who's on your list? Opposite sex or not?

That's all I can remember right now. I know there are others, I'm just not worldly enough to be familiar with them. AK lamented that she did not have a smoky low voice. I informed her that she absolutely DID -- whenever she got REALLY sick and almost totally lost her voice. My advances of course during those times are diverted if not halted altogether by the phlegm, bloodshot eyes and violent moodswings that accompany any infectious virus worth it's antibiotic.

While we're on the subject of seduction, I must share a delightful tidbit of our playful romantic banter. I was so struck by my wife's clever flirtatious poetry that I wrote it down. Imagine if you will, a tired but lovely woman and her charming if Wooly-Willy-looking husband. Imagine that they are in his workshop, gazing into each others eyes as a pounding melody throbs from the stereo speakers. He confidently looks over his glasses and raises his left eyebrow in an inviting arch, then raises it again and again in time with the passionate music. He's coyly hinting at the rhythm of love -- and she recoils.

"Not so much with the eyebrow?" he asks matter of factly.

"It looks like the death throes of a caterpillar" says she.

Yes, she knows how to make a man feel like a man.

Taking my caterpillars and going to bed . . .

What's So Funny About Peace, Love and Understanding?

2008-10-20T14:37:00.004-04:00

Ann is blue. Since Ann did me the favor of putting in a good word for me with a certain cute high-schooler in 1984 (who I would go on to date, be mercilessly dumped by, maintain a long friendship with and ultimately bribe with a motorcycle, er, marry), I'd like to do a good turn. I recommended to her on Facebook to try some loud, happy music. Then, having dishes to do in the vicinity of the boombox anyway, I turned up AK's Springtime 2008 CD. As it played, I washed and sang along, and thought how perfect these songs were for someone who might be blue. Some songs are decidedly Spring'y. Some not so much. They span many years and at least a few musical genres, so I'll post the playlist here for anyone who might at sometime become blue . . . and have iTunes . . . and a CD burner . . . and a boombox.

1. Talkin' Harvest Time Blues by Stephanie Davis
2. Soak Up the Sun by Cheryl Crow
3. Don't Worry Be Happy by Bobby McFerrin
4. Family Affair by Mary J. Blige
5. Peace Love and Understanding by Elvis Costello
6. Fighter by Christina Aguilera
7. Church by Lyle Lovett
8. This Little Light of Mine by The Steeles
9. Beautiful by Christina Aguilera
10. Bassoon Concerto in A Minor by Some Orchestra Somewhere
11. I'll Be There For Your/All I Need to Get By by Mary J. Blige and Method Man
12. Lets Make a Better World by Dr. John
13. You're Only Human (2nd Wind) by Billy Joel
14. Keep'n it Real by Shaggy
15. Lean on Me by Bill Withers
16. I'll Take You There by The Staple Singers
17. You Get What You Give by The New Radicals
18. September by Earth Wind and Fire

Take what you will, add your own favorites and make your own Blue Remedy playlist. Personally I'm not a big Aguilera fan (yes, she can belt like a mikky fikky . . . ) and I am still a little tired of Don't Worry Be Happy (if you lived through it, you get it). But some are just brilliant. I dare you to NOT slink around or shake your thang to the Take You There bass line. I dare you to not sing along to September. And I would dare you to research it yourself, but I've already researched it, and there is no more moving version of Lean on Me than Bill Withers' original.

Here, we hang in there. Lux Graphics is back in business as I apply for more straight jobs and re-reassess my career options. In a very fundamental way, it blows. I trusted some people it turns out I oughtn't (is that a word?) and was led down a dark hopeless path. I figured it out in time and got off the path, but somewhere along the line misplaced my hope. If you see it, please hit me on the celly, stakes are high. I have a new, additional calling at church, working even more with the young men. Schedule-wise it's a good thing I'm on a self-employed schedule again.

AK is getting more writing work and enjoying her law office job I think. She's busy with the PAC job and her Relief Society presidency job but finds both as rewarding as they are taxing. I don't like to share her with everyone else like that, but it makes my heart sing to see her as a happy . . . as Thomas so succinctly put it . . . Useful Engine. Isn't that all we ever want from life, to be a useful engine?

Max is wrapping up football. This league is really wonderful and it's too bad he'll probably be too big to play next year. Some days it's like the Land of The Misfit Toys Football League, and he does fit in. All days, the coaches and the other players really pull together and get behind each other. That's what keeps Max wanting to go back I believe. He's the epitome of an awkward pre-teen, but going to a small academics-heavy middle school will help him survive the middle school years I think. Still playing piano, still learning percussion. He's doing a math-themed academic olympics thing at school on Saturdays (heaven forbid we hang out TOGETHER more than one day a week . . . ) and he's genuinely enthused about anything science-related. Which bodes well for his future career prospects. Much better than an interest in, say, Philosophy . . .

Twinks are a trip. Both are pushing independence boundaries, but in different directions. Milo seems to by trying to (melo)dramatically define himself, like a very small lost, lamenting artist. Ben is experimenting with anger and resistance.

Showing mad ri'SPECT to Dy . . . kiss those babies!

I got myself a Gerbil. We be kickin' it as friends.

2008-10-11T15:44:00.004-04:00

That's what AK thinks Shaggy is singing in his song "Keep'n It Real". It's on the Springtime mix CD I made her this year. How pathetic-old-80's-romantic is it that I still make mix CDs? If I want to do it next Spring we'll have to get her an MP3 player (Max and I already have ours). I don't think stores will still be selling CDs next year. In fact, now that I have an iPod, that technology has surely jumped the shark and will soon be obsolete.

Surely I'm at least a runner up for Worst Blogger of The Year. It's been over two months. Facebook makes petty narcissism SO much easier than blogging.

The following mysteries have been haunting me of late . . .

*Banks. I keep reading/hearing that we are in a banking crisis. Huge banks are going under every day it seems. And yet, here in State College, every new building being built/opening is a BANK. Actually they are called "Retail Banking Centers" now, since the traditional savings and loan business model doesn't work anymore. No one saves money in savings accounts, so creatively backed securities underwrite what gets loaned out. They make their money now in fees, like credit cards and video stores (remember those?). Oh, and in selling people money they can't afford. How hard is that? "You deserve a trip to Disneyworld, Mr. Smith. Take your whole family, please. Lets sell you an RV while you're here". I see why maybe they PLANNED to build these buildings and open these credit whores . . . ahem. . . retail banking centers over the past few years. But in light of what's going on, don't you think they'd change "Coming Soon: Cheap Charlies Pleasing Fees!" to "For Lease. Will Build to Suit"

*Baby Fork. As our kids have grown, the trappings of each age grouping have slowly migrated out of our house. Diapers slowly went extinct. I took years, but I think we're finally free of the Great Toddler Era Sippy Cup Invasion. But for some reason we still have this one tiny little learning-to-eat fork with ABCs and 123s on it. It's barely big enough for a grown up to eat hors d'ouvres with. This is not entirely remarkable. What's strange are the following facts: every time I do the dishes it's dirty (well, I don't see food residue, that might clear up the mystery . . . ) and I have never seen anyone in my family using the fork for eating. Or stirring. Or poodle prodding. Or anything. WHO USES THIS TINY USELESS FORK and for what? I caught AK with it at the table the other night. She claimed she actually at her Minnesota Hot Dish casserole with it, but by this time her plate was empty. NO PROOF. I'm very suspect.

*Why. Oh. Why . . . did we not name our twins "Opa" and "Uffda"? This would not only reflect their non-to-nearly-non existent Greek and Scandinavian heritage . . . it would ensure that they would somehow become famous as sitcom actors or olympic athletes or flash-in-the-pan pop group singers.

Yup. Aswhati'mchattinbout.

Wacky Saturday

2008-08-02T19:41:00.002-04:00

We're having way too much fun here.

We had dinner at friends' house last night. SCORE! Then Max slept over there on account of he's their 12 year-old's only real bud since they moved in about a month ago. Then this morning we had Mirth & Girth Mormon Racquetball Underground, which was a little less well attended than last week. But it still ruled because I again pushed myself one whole game past where I was comfortable. I didn't play well, but it's great excercise, the highlight of my week realy. Then I mowed our lawn. Well, the part of our lawn that people can see mostly, anyway. What with AK and I away from home all day and it being so hot, our house is very white-trashy this Summer with weeds and neglect all over everything. Oh and then I installed a new weather strip on Gramma's door.

AK did some cleaning at Gramma's house. Then she napped. Then she took Gramma shopping and got home just in time for Max and I to go see Get Smart. MUCH fun, that. Alan Arkin was a riot. I thoroughly enjoy looking at Anne Hathaway. Hubba hubba. And Steve Carell is, even at his worst, just a little better than your average comic actor. He's proven himself in straight drama roles, alright. But he brings a level of sincerity to his comedy characters that is really special. He was solely responsible for the entire 3rd dimension in the Apatow-typical 40-Year Old Virgin.

So we get home (after buying some Ben & Jerry's for Alaska. Because WE got a treat. So she should get a treat. And the thing with dating Mormon girls, you can't exactly ply them with acohol to get them in the mood. Not that alcohol was ever very affective on my wife, it only ever put her to sleep. Or it made her puke -- and go to sleep. Anyway. . . ) . . . and AK is deep into her strawberry jam canning project. She's giddy with it. She's making the flat little jars into spaceships and making weak spaceship noises with them. I claim her noises are weak because she's only ever watched 4 movies in her entire life, she claims it's a girl thing. What think ye? Are the fairer sex genetically predisposed to make totally lame special effects noises? What does your spaceship sound like? Hers went "chub chub chub. . ." more like a Model A Ford than a spaceship.

THEN she starts quoting Homestar Runner. Which is something, because I don't think she's ever watched one second of Homestar Runner. But it is a testament to how much Max and I quote Homestar Runner. She's playing with jars, on account of the canning (and the Loopy Canning Lady Fever she's developed this evening. . . ) and whereas she usually says chirpingly "Thank you!" every time a lid pops? Now she's quoting Coach Z and saying "GOOD JOOOAAARRRRB!"

http://www.homestarrunner.com/cantsayjob.html

Now you have seen 700% more Homestar Runner (and my favorite character!) than my wife has.

Max made us take him to Barnes & Noble the other night, so he could spend some of the cash he's earned. He bought an Artemis Fowle book and a Red Wall series book, one of which he's already finished. I'm encouraged to see that maybe he CAN get bored of computer games and DOES value a good book. I looked but didn't find anything worth the money when we've got a perfectly good library even closer than the book store. AK got some math books to help her on the Geometry job she just got and the twins got a small chapter book each. That was a nice treat :).

And that's where we are at 8:21 on a Saturday night. We're looking forward to Starve'n Talk day at church tomorrow, followed by dinner with Gramma and watching a new Disney Muppet TV special at her house. I hope that's good. I watched an online clip of Kermit and Piggy on the Today show, and it was completely uninspired :(. Miss Piggy just isn't Miss Piggy without Frank Oz underneath. As long as he's alive, they should pay him whatever he wants to get under there and be Miss Piggy!

Word.

Facebook is The New Blog

2008-07-27T18:33:00.005-04:00

Isn't that sad? It is. If you take pictures of your family, you upload them to Facebook. It does "twitter"s too, as you update what you're doing as often as you want. It does not serve as a forum for writing, though. If you want to send Muppets (I do) and wish people Happy Birthdays (I need SOMEthing to remind me. . . ), well, it's the shizzle. Philosophically, I can't give up on blogs because Facebook has no journal/diary/expound feature and because it's not open to anyone on the 'net (even those not interested in social networking).

Think about it: "social networking". Is it just me or is it absolutely un-social? Facebook is unquestionably networking as people make (real or imagined) connections to see inside each other's profiles and learn more about each other. While social, strictly defined, may simply mean "involving others" -- I have a hard time calling what I'm doing right now: staring into an LCD screen typing, almost totally disconnected from the people in the same room with me -- social.

So that's my excuse for not blogging :) I'm social networking instead. Pretty lame excuse, no? Yeah, I din't think you'd buy that.

Things are plugging along in the Hults house. The boys have time to play WAY more video games and computer games than either of us are comfortable with. The games they play are fine. It bothers me on two levels. One is that it's excessive, it's all they do or want to do most of the time. Two is the social thing again -- it's completely un-social. What can they learn about the world and our community and people and other cultures in our basement? Even if they WERE using the intenet to study other cultures and geography, for example, is that a valid substitute for GOING places or MEETING people? Or is it the best one can do when you're not a globetrotter? Or even a State Collegetrotter? Interesting questions.

AK's take on it is that -- I think -- they're on break. During school they study, they have piano, they have church, they have extended day, and all sorts of stuff. This is their opportunity to have a vacation. And I buy that, mostly. It's just so hard, given that I went through a nervous breakdown/mid-life crisis to learn some BIG lessons about the importance of family and my role in my own family. And here I am spending all day and many nights away from them. I know better than to tell them to get outside and do something, I know I have to TAKE them outside and do something with them. I know that. But here I am.

Alaska is liking her job at the law office, no doubt due to the fact that she only has two other humans to interact with :) And given time, even Philly girls and lawyers can see how awesome my wife is to hang around with.

Gramma Gaye is settling in with her senior community friends, rocking the bocce ball courts and going on field trips. She has a lot of vegetables in her yard, she has a small corn farm, she has the most popular bird-feeders in town, she has loving-if-slightly-psychotic cats, and most of the time her lawn is mowed.

Saturday I invited everyone I could imagine to play racquetball with my racquetball buddy and I. Only half showed up but still we had ongoing rotations & different people to play against. It was totally awesome! The guy who started inviting me to play over a year ago showed up, and we had an epic battle after most had left that has left me crippled ever since. But it's good to push one's limits. Racquetball with my church homies really is the highlight of my week lately, and it just keeps getting more fun & healthy.

AK did yardwork and shopping with Gramma on Saturday and I mowed the lawn. Then Max and I vegetated until they brought home some lunch :). In the interest of getting THE HELL OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR ONCE, Max and I went to cash in our free go-kart rides we won in a raffle. We sped across town to catch a showing of Get Smart, but it's on it's last legs and only showing once a day at 9 :(. So instead we got some Sheetz treats and played frisbee until my body -- again, from the racquetball -- seized up like an engine with no oil.

Today we are loafing (reverently, it's the Sabbath). AK made quiche. Max is going to have a sleepover (he's imagining a snackover, I think, since Gramma buys munchies for the boys to eat while she sits them. . . ) at Grammas house, and we're listening to Sandra Boynton's "Blue Moo" album. Very funny. I am enjoying my book. And I am blogging for the first time in -- I believe -- a month.

How boring is this? Yep. Until I've got some quality expounding to do, maybe I should stick to facebook. Who wan'ts a MUPPET???

My turtle has a motorcycle . . . and he's not afraid to use it.

2008-06-08T21:00:00.004-04:00

I must give glowing praise to Nintendo's Wii game system. It is the Bill Cosby of game systems, in that it didn't take the easy roads of gory violence or scofflaw anti-heroes to gain success. No, it appears they did their darn HOMEWORK and studied what makes games fun. It's a very complex question, if you think about it. Why do we play games? What makes one game more fun than another game? I don't know the answers. But I know that I've never had as much fun playing video games as I have the past few Sunday evenings with my sons.

I could play Mario Kart Wii until the wii hours of the morning, I do so love the racing games. And this one manages to be cooler than all of it's predecessors, with realistic motorcycles as well as cars. The new active steering is a little wonky, but it's just the thing to put me back at the beginner level, making the game like an Everlasting Gobstopper that it will take months or YEARS to master! Yay!

And tonight I discovered this marvelous game that AK got Max for "his" birthday (thinking no doubt it would be good for the twinks. . . ): "Wii Playground". They made physically active video games out of tetherball, dodgeball, soccer, slot cars and . . . even . . . paper airplanes. They are SO simple to learn and SO difficult to master. They somehow manage to equal the playing field between 6 year olds, 12 year olds and grown men. So that even with everyone trying their very best, everyone gets a chance to win. How? I dunno. But those clever Nippon-jin figured it out and I'm grateful.

I would have never thought that a Mortal Kombat-style fighting game that mixes together characters from tens of different varying styles of video games (with totally varying styles of animation. . . ) would have been fun to play. But it's so campy, and they somehow make battle seem so un-violent, that it's one of my favorites. Even though there are hits and kicks and bombs and seizure-inducing vibrations constantly coming through the controllers -- it's done with such a sincerely childish sense of humor that one can't be offended. Indeed, one has to laugh: "Is that a polar bear with sunglasses? He's in the way! Why is my Snake Plisskin tough-guy character swinging a big FISH around? Why is KIRBY the sad, formless pink nothing of a cottonball . . . kicking my BUTT?"

From a marketing perspective, it was very risky what they did when they changed the way we control videogames. And I applaud them for not only taking the risk but by doing it right. It -- stinkin' -- WORKS, the motion-sensing technology does. Never do we curse it for not responding as we think it should, never do the controllers or the plugs break due to poor design or even the standard abuse children dish out. Well, ahem, we did have to send it back due to overheating at first . . . but they fixed it for free and relatively quickly and painlessly. How many companies can do THAT nowadays?

Yep, I'd have to say Nintendo is right up there on my list with LEGO on the list of companies who generally speaking have got their heads on straight and who's products are a generally safe bet for your hard-earned dollars. Yay Wii!

Big Sunday, today was. We've had a lot of those, lately, and have found ourselves en masse in the Bishop's office more Sundays than not. But it's good. Max is now 12, he's a Deacon, he's in the Young Mens' Quorum. I got to confer upon him the Priesthood, ordain him to his office, and give my first priesthood blessing. Which was stressful, but we all survived.

Too Hot is what it is here in PA since about last Thursday. AK says it'll get to 100 tomorrow and you KNOW we roll with HUMIDITY here so stay a state or two away from PA for the next week if you can.

Gratitude. I am grateful for air conditioners that still work even though we haven't turned them on for two years. I'm grateful for my wife's home made quiche, biscuits and stromboli. I'm grateful for a talented, self-confident son and twins who are so terminally happy they just might genuinely go through life never bothering to learn it sucks sometimes. I'm grateful for our jobs and the opportunity to REGULARLY earn money that's already been taxed -- even when it's not quite enough to cover our expenses. I'm grateful for carpets clean enough (for the time being) that we can have guests over for dinner, and I'm grateful for the guests who come to dinner. I'm grateful for Max's Wii, and the time us dudes spend together playing & enjoying each other. I'm grateful for the opportunity to teach in my sons' school because it's taught me so much and opened up new career paths at a time when I'm so in search of a new path. I'm grateful for someone to play raquetball with. I'm grateful to share this beautiful place with my mother.

So many things are so right at this time, even though some things (big things, like the finances) are a little wrong. We are still searching for balance, still getting closer and closer to it than we've ever been, and trying to remember it's a goal worth chasing but not one that's ever truly attained. We're quite familiar with financial straits, but are better today at maintaining our perspective because we are so rich in all of life's other blessings.

Blessed are wii!
As promised so long ago, here are the World's Most Adorable Fire-Haired Dolls and their number one fans Ben and Milo. These little angels belong to the W's from VT, and for the sake of internet privacy we'll call them Princess and Peanut.

Just Awesome

2008-05-24T17:30:00.003-04:00

Father-Son Campout was a blast. About 30 dudes altogether. Lots of littles, a few fewer middles and teens were downright scarce. But the middles like Max were just beside themselves, as it was relatively unstructured and allowed for a lot of poking things in the fire and chasing each other with sticks.

I was particularly stoked on arrival because even though things at work have been intense, my team is really coming together. Also because I HAD NO IDEA MONDAY WAS A HOLIDAY! How lame and pathetic is that? It's true. Getting to work, Readers Theater, Scouts and Church on time is about all I can handle so MMSAK (My Main Sho'ty A-Kizzle) does all the supplementary scheduling. So this EXTRA DAY is a complete bonus. If I'd KNOWN about it, I would have scheduled this that or the other important responsible thing to happen. But since I didn't, I'm flirting with just reading all day or something decadent like that.

Anyway, the only fart in the Father-Son Campout spacesuit was the bugs. But with some mild skin-friendly-stink-free-non-oily bug repellent ("Now: Totally Ineffective!!!") and the cooler temps when the sun went down -- bugs retreated to the evil hell that bore them hence. Oh, that and the fact that for some reason I didn't sleep one frazzlin' WINK all night. That blew. But did I tell you about my MONDAY? The HOLIDAY? I'm good.

There were balls thrown and frisbees frizzed and silly campfire songs sung (as a po' city kid, it's my first time for every one of them) and what-should-be-illegal amounts of smores consumed. Boys bonded with boys, dads bonded with dads. Lifelong scoutmen cooked phenomenal breakfasts using dutch ovens and then normal dads like me ate way too much of it. 3 of my 4 Lighting Patrol 11-year olds boy scouts were there so we had a 5-mile hike and identified 10 different (or evidence of 10 different) types of native flora and fauna. Here are Jacob, Max and Joe. . .

. . . as we reached the dam and they identified Canada geese & goslings. Other Dad and I tried to convince them that Canada geese quacked like Bob & Doug McKenzie:

"Hey, Quack y'know"

"Quack, eh"

"Take off!"

Dad humor. Lost on the young. Yes, my son has been given The Nathaniel Ultimatum: "Either get a haircut or learn to play guitar". Hopefully he'll get shorn soon, it's just too hot to be so shaggy in PA.

On the way home, the truck was sloppily packed to the gills with camping gear. We took a corner too fast with Max's window open and inadvertently peppered the Pennsylvania countryside with children's poetry papers from Readers Theater class. Max and I were so tired from the camping, it was a little surreal as we picked poetry off of the twisty backroad. Then a tractor tilled along beside us, farmer staring, us thinking he'd REALLY stare if he could read what we had spread all over the road. It was straight out of a David Lynch film.

AK was in full gardening mode when we got back and finally got the 3rd raised bed going at Gramma's house. I took a nap. Then AK and I rememebered that we'd told Elias Peachey the charming Amish uphostery guy we'd pick up The Green Couch today. Dazed from naps and too much gardening, we drove out to Belleville with every motorcycle owner in Centre County (first REALLY perfect Spring day this year. . . ). We were surprised (not really, but it took 5 months to get a slot in Elias' schedule. . . ) to find our SOLITARY yet totally redeeming Freecycle Treasure Couch completely overhauled by a true craftsman. And for the paltry pittance of $59.00. Reinforced, reassembled, ready for our bouncy boys and weighing twice what it did when we droppped it off ("built with CARDboard. . . . " mumbled Elias "Replaced the arms with 2x4s. . .").

Amish in the backyard, an R1 university in the front. Appalatian landscapes, dramatic weather, and East Coast diverisity that rivals my precious Bay Area. I love it here.

Bad blogger. No biscuit.

2008-05-22T20:26:00.003-04:00

I suck. Unless you think it's cool to alienate your few remaining readers. If that's the case, then take notes because I'm on fizz-to-tha'-IZZire. And I think you're smellin' what I'm cookin'. Or you're picking up what I'm putting down. Or we're grokking. I just found a great name for an early 90's speed metal band: Groksuck. I know, I'm too young to know what grokking is. What? So are you? Ok then.

Summer is getting ready to completely steamroll the Hults'. It's a bit of an ambush, since our Spring has been so soggy and we haven't hardly suspected that lurking right around the calendar's corner is SUMMER. I'm now the Almost All Scoutmaster instead of the 11-year-old Assistant Scoutguy, so I'll have 2-4 more scouts for the Summer. Work is getting totally intense (once again, I'm in a very seasonal business). School is winding down. Piano is winding down a little. The kids are winding UP!

Tomorrow is our Father/Son Campout, which is designed to be totally non-churchy and relaxing. But I need to seize the opportunity that most of the scouts will be there and cross some campingthings off of their to-do lists. I'm looking forward to it and hope to take nice photos to share. But at the rate I'm getting us packed for it. . . well . . . I'd be the last guy you'd promote to Scoutmaster. What's the Scout Motto?

"Slack Hard"

No?

"Nap, eat, nap. Repeat as necessary"

Damn I know this one. Oh yeeeeeah. . .

"Be Unprepared!"

Gotcha. I'm on it. I am THE right guy for the job. Kids won't know what hit 'em.

Meanwhile, this week the BYU Chamber Orchestra came around to Penn State. They had a concert Tuesday night that was lightly attended but TOTALLY awesome. Rossini, Beethoven and some other famous dead German guys' music. Ben and Milo did a great job of controlling their squiggle impulse and Max was exposed to something other than Suzuki, Billy Joel and classic funk/hip-hop. They stayed in the area for a couple of days, so local families could host a pair of students if they wanted. AK signed us up. So Sunday and Monday were cleaning-fests, and we had bed & breakfast guests for two nights. Tony is from Venezuela and Colin is from Pittsburgh. Colin is a percussionist in the orchestra and gave Max his own personal lesson. He's also quite the rogue young LDS rockstar and we could barely extract him from the gaggle of girls he'd aquired after the fireside talk. But all the boys had a blast with our visitors and Max got to see some of what youth activities look like.

Keep on keepin on.

Nematodes

2008-05-04T17:32:00.003-04:00

I've learned much lately about nematodes. However, none of it is as interesting as the word sounds. So damn the scholarly definition, just go to work this week and call someone a nematode. See what happens. If they get offended (they may have to look it up to do so. . . ) just remind them that nematodes cost $100 for a few tablespoons and they are VERY beneficial to lawns full of grubs.

Today was Starve'n Talk day at church. These talks are always the very best. Which leads me to believe that hungry people give better talks. But I am SO not good at fasting. I get spacey and cranky. Now I've eaten 2 Daddy Sandwiches but I'm still spacey and cranky. So maybe it's allergies? Whatever. Don't feed the Daddy. He bites.

I don't have any photos to share. So I'm going to share another one of Max's recital pieces. Its the one that (despite a flub there in the middle, I think. . . ) shows his "lyrical style".

Speaking of lyrics, he joined the choir today at church and is by a few years the youngest member. Despite our best efforts, we were WAY early for church last week. It was as though the clock was slowing down just so we'd be way early. We found out why shortly after, it was so that Max could see/hear the choir rehearsing. They are doing a very spirited multi-hamony 4th of July sort of song and it sounded great. Still high, I think, from his pirate play, he yearned to be up on stage. He had questions, we referred them to the choir director, and he was told there was no minimum age he need only show up 45 minutes early for church! So today he was right up there belting it out, albeit with very poor posture. Remind me to explain to him how standing up straight allows one to breathe better, and how singing first and foremost requires breathing.

One Week Late, Countless Dollars Short

2008-04-26T20:32:00.006-04:00

LAST weekend was the super-intense-everything-happening-in-one-weekend weekend. It's taken me a week to recover and get the photos/videos together.

Friday night was the World Premier and Grand Finale of our pirate play (written by my good friend Melynda Kiring) "Yo Ho Ho". We've been working on it all semester, and the kids were just frazzlin' AWESOME! Max especially rose to the occasion as Captain Johnny Goodfellow Stanton, as did his leading lady who played Melch. Here is my little ham. . .

. . . and here is the cast . . .

I was so proud of them I could have peed. And plotzed. Simultaneously. AK spent a day and a half putting that vest together for him, and she also got the PAC to buy swords, eyepatches, earrings and a couple of hats to help with costumes. Mad props goin' out to my main sho'ty A-Kizzle.

We rushed from this performance to the church lip synch. Max and I had put together a Blues Brothers routine, but with this play and his recital to prep for we just didn't have time to perfect it. The lip synch was a total blast, and while a couple of acts were highly polished, our bumbling Blues Brothers would have fit right in. Oh well, we'll be really really ready for next year's lip synch.

About that time, our good friends the W's from VT dropped in for the night. Awesome. They make the most adorable little red-headed dolls of daughters. Maybe if Mr. McDaddy W reads this he'll forward me a photo or two of the kids all in the backyard? The Internet has to see the cutefest that is our 4 littles. As much as I cringe when ALL the 6th grade girls go "AWWWWWW!!!" every time Ben or Milo says something? When Littlest Peanut W says anything, no need to be cuter than "That'sthe vaccuum cleaner"? Guess what I do. Yeah.

Then Saturday was the big big piano recital. And HOO did it go well! We were all anxious for Max. This in addition to his own usually overwrought-but-in-this-case-perfectly-appropriate performance anxiety. He'd long ago mastered his two smaller pieces for the recital (though he paused & stumbled once at the recital, see below. . .). But Henry Mancini's "Baby Elephant Walk" was way beyond his skill level. We didn't know this when we recommended it to him and his teacher last year. She didn't know either when she agreed to it, looking only at the first page or two of music. But then it digresses into a funky jazz piece with dissonance & stuff. He's worked so hard on it for so long, taking breaks when necessary from over-working it and losing perspective. It's also a very long piece. But by recital time he had it totally memorized and I hear he'd had a few good complete rehearsals. I hadn't heard any. That and the fact that he took deep "OK I survived that, now lets see if I can live through the next one. . . ) sighs after each of his first two pieces -- had me a little edgy.

But that boy of mine; the talented one? The one who makes music? Nailed it. Never have I heard it go so well so consistently. It's long, you may not want to watch/listen to the whole thing (though the ending is good, different than your usual Suzuki piece, and the audience got it wrong. . .). But AK and I were just balling through the whole thing and he knew he did the best he ever had and he was so proud of himself!

Here is Ben doing "Horse Sense". . .

Here is Milo doing "Love Somebody" but only at about 50%. He hasn't been as consistent as Ben lately in piano . . .

I'll only post the video of Max's final piece, Mancini's "Baby Elephant Walk". But know that his 2nd piece was strewn with feeling and the "lyrical style" his teacher loves so much. . .

*sniff*

Between that weekend and this weekend, AK started her new job, I had a biz trip to Baltimore, we had a Scout Court of Honor, Max's school got a new playground, I got to play raquetball a couple of times, and the W's dropped in again. Oh yeah, we got our Honda mower back and mowed Gramma's 40-acre yard, then a truck dumped some dirt on a tarp on our lawn. And my wife was so excited about that that she used a relatively fancy camera to document it and post numerous photos of the dumping on her blog. And Hillary won the PA primary, making my wife very happy. And some other stuff. Big week, actually.

And this evening was our first raucous, righteous thunderstorm of the year. Thank you so much, Pennsylvania.

Sweater Models II

2008-04-13T18:26:00.003-04:00

AK requested an impromptu photo session this morning to document these knitted creations:

I really don't think they look at all alike anymore. I find I can often tell who's who by their voice, their hair, or even sometimes the way they walk and hold themselves physically.

It's not having you want. . .

2008-04-11T21:40:00.002-04:00

. . . it's wanting what you've got. That's what Sheryl Crow says on the Springtime CD I made for Alaska. And I bet she got it from someone else. In any case, that's what I keep telling myself. I'm not listening to myself, though. Don't you hate that? When you tell someone something they really need to hear? But they dont' listen? And they're you?

I just speculated that lumbego could be defined as odgida in your back.

That previous statement has got to be on someone's list of Statements Least Likely To Ever Be Uttered By Anyone. At least my me. I lived in the midwest for years, but I have no idea what lumbego is. I certainly can't spell it. And I'm only barely aware of odgida. I had a friend from Jersey who's father used so say ". . . got a touch o' the 'odge" and the leads me to believe it's something like indigestion. But in New Jersey.

CHIRP! CHIRP!

2008-04-06T15:55:00.004-04:00

That's what the birds are saying. And I am so grateful. One has moved into our awning, one has moved into the hornets nest that was constructed last summer. It makes me glad we didn't take down the hornets next last year. Lawns are starting to turn green again. Today we took Gramma Gaye's raised-bed garden boxes out of her basement, where they were built, and placed them out in her yard (AK made one of them 8' x 8'. It was magnificent. And it had to be dismantled to get out of the basement). We're planning out the summer's physical activities. AK is putting tomato seeds in peat pots, and I'm looking at calendars to plan scouting trips. I do believe spring has sprung.

Triangle Institute of Professional Photography That's where I was all week. My concerns were in vain it would seem, as I definitely got our money's worth in education from the seminar. I took a course in portraiture and it was just perfect. I learned from the other students and from the administration and others as much as I learned from the excellent teachers of my class. I learned about the business of photography, I learned about marketing and pricing, I learned about lighting and most importantly studio lighting. And I was lucky enough to learn all of this from working photographers who volunteer their time to teach others. It was an intense, fulfilling and tiring week. And while the cost was certainly a stretch for us, in truth it was a bargain when we consider the food and hotel expenses. I got to do stuff like this . . .

And I learned a lot about equipment. Everyone tends to believe/teach/preach that what they use is the most important and necessary equipment. So it was a challenge for me to remember that what I need is based on what I want to do. It was easy to remember that, well, I don't yet KNOW what I want to do. So I think I left Pittsburg, specifically the vendor show, having spent much less than most on equipment. One piece I did fiend supremely useful, and I knew it would be something I could use as soon as I saw it in one of my books about outdoor portraiture, was a giant 4' x 6' "gobo" with a black fabric frame hinged to a white diffusion fabric frame. It allows me to make a photo like this . . .

. . . even in the harsh noon-time light of a sunny day. Gotta get me a gobo. Or, as my shooting partner called it, a "gooboo". And a lightmeter. And a D300. And a large studio with a wall of northlight windows and 13' ceilings.

My goal for now is to try and NOT think about the business. This will be a challenge, I do so love marketing and I am so anxious to learn a new way to earn money for my family in a way that better suits us. But I feel these are distractions from the important question: what pictures do I WANT to create? What pictures would I get up everyday and create even if I had to pay to do it? What I've learned about the business is that you have to love it that much to stand out and have a truly marketable product. So for now, I take pictures. All kinds, of all people, in every type of lighting and context. In doing this, I hope to find my own joy and my own vision. I trust that if I can create something that is genuinely inspired, it will find it's own place as a foundation for business.

Going gobo shopping . . .

We Keep Our Minds to Safety. Truely.

2008-03-28T18:44:00.005-04:00

I am beat.

Pinewood Derby was Wednesday night and -- I think, I didn't look up & take it all in much -- it was awesome. Thanks to our kind and crafty Plant Manager at Shain Solutions, the boys and parents of State College Cub Scout Pack 40 got a brand new handmade-from-the-finest-birch plywood Pinewood Derby track. Orchestrating that was a little stressful, but Plant Manager did all the real design & working work. I offered all I could, and he let me do some sanding and gluing, but really it was the Plant Manager show. The parents were so appreciative, and gave such great applause, I don't know how to give that back to Plant Manager. I did take a couple of photos & hoped to print them out with "Thank You (Plant Manager)!!!" on them. . .

. . . but I didn't get to take any action shots like last year. I was the gatekeeper for the races, see. Also, my Lightning Patrol (11 year old, technically Boy Scouts and not a part of the derby) operated a "Speed Shop" for the cubs. I brought in all of my tools and goodies, and we applied graphite, we added weights, we removed weights, we aligned axles, we weighed to help the Cubs be ready to go their fastest. THAT part -- again I think, because I didn't look up much -- was the most totally awesomest like ever. I'm told it was a great success, and many were grateful for our forethought, time, supplies & efforts. My scouts were also very good about helping more than goofing off. They were supportive and enthusiastic and excellent models of service and leadership for the younger scouts. YAY LIGHTNING PATROL!

Max and I spent a lot of time this year getting our cars (he built his own, me my own) ready this year. We did as many of the speed secret things as we could, and we did it more together than ever before. By the time the race came, neither of us much cared how fast our cars were. Which was a good thing, because in the post-derby "Family Race", our cars were strictly mediocre. Hmmm . . . But again, not so much a problem. Max has simply oozed love for his Daddy lately with all this dude time and with all the stuff he gets to really DO himself now. I think the derby should continue through Boy Scouts. . .

Totally conflicted. That's how I feel about spending next week at a commercial photography seminar in Pittsburgh. Grrrrr. I'm sure I'll learn a lot. But it costs so much and it uses vacation days and I can't believe I'm going to VOLUNTARILY spend a week away from my most adored wife and munchkinlings! Am I HIGH? Sheesh.

Allow me to post a picture on my blog, for once, before AK does. It's the big orange sweater she's been working on for Max for quite some time and it's awesome . . .

AK says it doesn't show the sweater as some other shots, but it's my favorite of Max. He's got that teen look going here, since his hair is unshorn. He's rocking the Shaggy Efron 'do. It's combed here but usually falls forward like a cross between Zac and The Beatles.

We wanted to help him audition for a local production of Sound of Music. The other theater kids in his school are auditioning, and it would be a great start for him. But alas, the rehearsal schedule is IN. Frazzling. SANE. He'd have to give up every other activity until it was over! Now I remember, I gave up track so I could be in theater. I gave up the unicycle club so I could be in theater. I couldn't be in band because I was in theater. I was going to stop global warming and bring peace to the Middle East. . . BUT I COULDN'T BECAUSE I HAD REHEARSALS TO ATTEND!

We need a children's theater here in State College. Who wants to come start one?

This photo has nothing to do with anything. I found it surfing around my hard drive, in with a bunch of other photos I took on a trip to Japan. I love the Japanese fascination-with-and-totally-shaky-grasp-of our English language. My favorite soda in Japan? "Pocari Sweat". My most treasured keepsake? A motorcycle shop banner that reads "A Motorcycle Is The Sport Of Naked". This here was proudly emblazoned on a very small cruiser's gas tank, so we all could know with unshakable certainty that the owner of the tiny motorcycle was One. Bad. Ass.

Now I'm off to a whirlwind weekend of munchkin-shuttling and packing for Pittsburgh. Have a bo'fiddlin 'dacious weekend my peeps. Kiss those babies and drive safety.

My First Saturday

2008-03-15T11:17:00.003-04:00

I've had job work to do every single Saturday for a long long time. And if there was some event that kept me from working on a Saturday, it was accompanied by anxiety about the work that wasn't getting done.

Then I put Lux Graphics to bed. Closed the door, as it were. Very difficult to do.

Then I had a Saturday, but I had to spend it flying home from Orlando.

Then I had another week.

NOW I get to have a total SATURDAY! Just like you do, most likely. I left my work at work. I have a whole day to do what I want (within budget of course. But the budget is good since I sold my inventory of bodies and my inventory of fancy laquer paints last week). What do I want?

Well, I slept in. That is important, since I get up at 5:30 all week. It is also an unexpected bonus of having the afternoon church session this year, I get to sleep in two days a week instead of just one.

I want to work with Max on our Lip Sync routine, due next Saturday. I'm always wishing our church did stuff like this, and now they are, and it looks like I'm one of only a few who are down with it :(. But goldarnit we'll get up there and shake our tailfeathers in the name of family entertainment. Max and I are planning the very same Blues Brothers routine I so fondly remember doing with my buddy in high school. I'm worried about the dance steps, though. Max is good hearted, smart and disarmingly sincere & un-angsty -- but I don't think he's Nando on The Dancefloor yet. He's only in the 6th grade. Speaking of which, I'm on a Rockabilly/Swing music kick and would love to teach the kids a swing dance class in Extended Day next year. But we think there won't be enough boys for it :(. Where was I? Lip sync? Yes. I bought shades, black ties and cheap glue-on sideburns last week. A few days later I bought us real Blues Brothers hats. They cost more than the costume-quality ones, but I hope we'll get some use out of them and to be honest I don't think I could squeeze a costume hat over my gargantual noggin even for the duration of one song. Note to self, go shopping for coats & black pants today after. . .

I want to go see "Horton Hears a Who" with my boys. So we're gonna do that as soon as AK gets back from Lowes with Gramma. They are buying lumber for the raised gardens we'll have at "Gramma's Gardens" this year. OH the corn I will eat this Summer! Big BBQ. You're all invited.

I want to post a blog including this coolio photo I found on Gramma's camera from Christmas, but I accidentally sent it to AK with her Smithsonian photos so SHE posted it first. Tough. Here 'tis. . .

THEY ARE SO NOT MY LITTLE BABIES ANYMORE! *sniff* Ben has a VERY Max'ish look on his face here. And Milo looks healthier than he has in weeks. Between the Big Yuck of '08 that's been going around, a 2-day stomach flu, and general chapping from the cold/dry air? Milo has been Doctor Crustyface for most of my recent memory. This reminds me he IS under there somewhere.

I am going to go tickle their bellies and pretend they are still small enough to carry places. And hope I don't get kicked unconscious. It's a sad milestone when tickling your littles becomes as dangerous as it is intoxicatingly fun.

Savor those Saturdays!

Nordic Track. Rhymes with Laundry Rack.

2008-03-08T19:14:00.003-05:00

Coincidence? I don't think so. But we have one. Now we can add that to the list of things we'll soon have in common with most Good American Consumers: we've owned, neglected, and then un-owned a Nordic Track. THANK GOODNESS we didn't pay one red cent for it. That lessens the sting a little. I am still mortally, morally, physically, spiritually and otherwise'ally opposed to Freecycle in all of it's hidden evil perpetuating our consumer crap culture. Inamajeezcrisamen.

NSSEA took up most of my week. After 8 years attending almost every Bike Week, I end up in the Educational Furniture industry. And where do they hold their hugest convention? Orlando. When? Bike week. Aside from a few Harley jackets on the plane, there was no actual Bike Week experienced, but I thought it strange. I DID love/miss the near-daily short torrential downpours in Florida. Florida is such a strange landscape, so overcast (I'm always there in March) and so eerily flat in every direction. And so soggy. Stomp on the ground and you'll have a little shoe-shaped lake come up. I give the whole state 10 years. Then Gainesville will be beachfront property and only fishes will be clubbin' in Miami. Global Warming 1, Timeshare Owners 0.

I painfully and miserably missed my newest and longest and most bestest friends (my wife & sons) all. Week. Long. I had to travel on a Saturday, see. So I'm wondering if anyone's going to offer me a comp. day, see. Then it occurs to me that I ALWAYS traveled/worked events on weekends for Honda. And I never asked for the days back. I always got some SWAG or tickets to a race or something and never ever ever even once balanced the value of that special treat against the value of the time I was missing with my family. I guess today I wouldn't be nearly the rep I was then, huh? Weird how things change.

I'm so grateful that I ran over that rabbitt and made those changes 3.5 years ago. And here we are in the midst of another great change, with me ending one career and starting another. And AK is finally thinking it's time for her too to make a change. And I'm finding the Pointy Haired Boss thing less-than-rewarding. My gripe is surely influenced by all the tradeshow work I just did, but still I'm thinking of seeing what it'd take to become a schoolteacher. It probably pays the same as I'm getting now to start. BUT SUMMERS OFF, PEOPLE! Sum. Mers.

Off.

Field trips. Waterslides. Camping. Memories to last a lifetime. Memories to keep me company in my old age low-rent care facility, because no matter WHAT I do when I grow up it's getting a little late for 401K Palm Beach retirement fantasies.

S'what I'm saying. Know what I'm saying? Just saying.

Weather landed all up in the USA today, making travel home inconvenient and interesting, but not as bad as it could have been. Heaven help those going to or through Ohio today. When I finally got home it was just wet and icky, most all of the snow being melted. Pennsylvania was looking butt-ugly for sure. But by evening it had cooled enough that all ugliness was being coated in white. I hope it lasts!

AK is giddy with excitement about Spring and all the things she will grow this year. I must admit I'm excited about our own CROP of super ultimate mega fresh sweet corn. Anything more than last year would be a bonus. AK did so much work, yet our canning shelves are sparsely populated.

Politics AK put a Hillary sticker on "our" Taurus :(. Also an optimistic "Clinton/Obama '08" sticker. On one hand, it doesn't get much lefter than a college town, so we're not likely to get run off the road for this (I had my life threatened in rural Oregon one time, and was told most likely it was due to me a)riding a motorcycle and b)having a CA plate on the motorcycle). But I've never ever ever put a bumper sticker on any vehicle so I'm a little confuzzled and conflicted about it. Regardless of the whole "you don't discuss religion or politics" (and wasn't money part of that too?) thing . . . they are tacky and hard to clean off! But back on what to discuss or not discuss -- it's just someplace I'm not comfortable going lately. More than any other time in my life, I'm confident enough in who I am and where I stand to not need to talk about it with anyone. I talk about it to my wife because I'm an extrovert and still need the words coming out of my mouth to solidify/clarify the ideas. But otherwise, even with all the new people in my life at work and at church, even with such exciting things going on in politics, I'm quite content to talk about it (or not) with no statement or commitment to one side, candidate or party. It's sad, but saying "I'm a democrat" is giving people one more excuse to generalize about me or otherwise pigeonhole me as this-or-that type of person. And you just KNOW I'm not saying the word "Mormon" to anyone! I think I've said "Latter Day Saints" at work in passing once or twice. But I don't think they make that connection in Philipsburg. By the look on their faces, I might have said "New Ministry of Presbyterian Unified Unitariate Methodarians".

(so I just said how I don't want to talk about it? Now commences the talking about it. Good thing no one reads this blog. . . .)

I don't know where I stand in the Dem primaries, but I am registered that way and PA might make a difference for the first time in awhile so I'd better figure it out. I have much to say about all the candidates' presentation skills and speechwriters :). And I do listen to NPR's "On Point" everyday. The show is just as likely to be about a Portuguese dissident Haiku-writing performance artist as it is likely to be about the elections. But it's still 20 minutes more of in-depth coverage than I'd get otherwise.

I just deleted 3 paragraphs here. To be concise, I think Obama is more electable vs. McCain but I think Hillary would be a better president. What to do come primaries?

Maybe I should become a republican because I have more faith in capitalism than I do in bureaucracy most days? Or maybe I should be a libertarian because I'd like to keep all the money I earn and think I'm more capable of putting it where it belongs than the government is? As with most things in life, I'll have to be what I am for reasons that go deeper than sound-bytes or doctrine. Deep deep down, down where I can't really even argue the point, I believe we are who we are because of money or the lack of money. I tend to see all strife & conflict in the world as a result of financial conditions more than political or religious struggles. So I understand why I have this chip on my shoulder about people with money (and I had it even when I was one of those people. . . ). But for all my maturity and business education and rock-solid faith in markets and Ayn Rand fantasies and even family-values'ism . . . I started out po'. That chip on my shoulder is awfully small anymore -- but I imagine it will always be there. And that's what puts me where I am.

Like our decision on who to vote for, in the end it's little to do with policy or stances on issues. It's who we like. And while we're given masterminded sound bytes to explain WHY we like one or the other, we like who we like for those reasons that are hardest to understand and sometimes harder to acknowledge. My chip doesn't make any sense, and my chip has NO IDEA what's best for the future of our country, and I wish I could be more objective. I hope to teach my progeny that the objective work is of utmost importance, it must be done, and all arguments must be considered on their rational merits. Because then we're best prepared to see -- and embrace -- the other part of our vote.

What. The. HIZZLE?

2008-03-01T13:22:00.002-05:00

Leap Year Lunacy? Yesterday was totally weird.

I was stoned all morning, as though I was on Benadrool. But I wasn't. I couldn't think straight, could get much work done, couldn't seem to get it in gear at all. Which was a bummer, because it was shaping up to be quiet at work and I had some long term projects to work on. Then the phone guys came. To make a long story short, my first day at work (Jan 3rd) I declared that we'd be overhauling the phone system to make it customer and user friendly. 2 months later, it's still not done, and for the past few weeks this is because of heinous customer service from our phone vendor. When they came to finally make the actual changes (again), I'm told that what I wanted, what we'd been discussing with them for weeks, couldn't be done. I had to choose either this, that, or the other. None of the options sounded right, and on top of all the other things they screwed up I couldn't believe that I was being put in the position to make this decision RIGHT NOW because they were FINALLY HERE and ready to make the changes. I was upset and I let them know I was upset and I let them know in a calm but disappointed tone (I think) exactly why I was upset. I asked that they give me 10 minutes to consult my boss (who's in Wisconsin). I called her and gave her the short version, that we had to choose either a, b, or go with another vendor (I'd expressed my disappointment in 3 consecutive management meetings now and had the business card of another phone system service vendor). As boss & I talked, I was told the phone guys left. They told one of my team "Tell Chris to find another vendor". They walked out. They declared, in not so many words, that I was such a bad customer they didn't want my business. And I understand they've HAD our business for some time now. Weird.

I've known those customers, the ones so bad you don't want their business. I've told them so to their face (customer: "I'll never buy another Honda!" Chris: "Promise?"). But I can't imagine that on my worst day I am that customer. I'm not irate, I don't yell, I don't threaten or intimidate. I asked everyone there (small office, everyone hears everything) and they said I was calm & reasonable.

I suspect there are two things going on here. First, I'm slowly learning that I can't hold our vendors to the same standards of customer service I hold myself and my team to for our own customers. This is unfortunate, and I'm honestly not ready to accept it's a reality. So we'll see on that one. Second -- and this is from AK not me -- apparently I can be a really big scary serious bald man. :(. I don't FEEL big or scary. But I am serious when I'm serious. And I am bald. She says I'm like the muppet Sweetums. . .

. . . the monster who doesn't know he's a monster. I don't think I like this. We'll see how that goes.

Anyway THEN the bottom falls out of the reality market for the rest of February 29th. Then the phones light up and everythings bad and everything's right now and oh my gizzle this that and the other. It was hands down the craziest few hours I've ever spent at my new job. And everyone ELSE in my life was panic-themed too . . .

AK spent yesterday afternoon having the e-mail equivalent of a shouting match with THE PRESIDENT OF ONE OF HER CLIENT COMPANIES! This is SO not like AK. She did the right thing, see, something went weird somewhere, and people all got pissy and mad. So she stood up for herself and said DAMMIT I WASN'T DOING ANYTHING WEIRD OR PISSY I WAS DOING -- AND I KNOW THIS IS NOT THE NORM IN OUR INDUSTRY -- THE RIGHT AND HONEST THING TO DO IN THIS SITUATION!. It all sorted out by the end of the day, but still. Who are you pod people and when are you bringing my wife back?

Gramma Gaye did something -- and we don't know what -- we think maybe something terribly offensive and personally against her podiatrist like *gasp* NEGLECTING TO PUT LOTION ON HER FEET -- to tick off her podiatrist. As retaliation, her podiatrist did something to her feet that caused her to bleed in her socks all day. What the fizzle, people?

Is it just us? Did anyone else have a totally surreal February 29th?

I was hoping it was all over. However, I've been out-of-it all morning again. I did some stuff for Gramma this morning and she is also "rummy" as she puts it. I had to growl/bark at the two college boys who boldly cut right in front of me at the symphony ticket office this morning (this is what reminded me of the Sweetums Dilemma, as I walked out and they apologized for the 2nd time I thought "Hm, you'd have think they saw a monster the way they reacted. . . "). And AK's just reported that not only did she have a typically heinous customer service issue at Wal-Mart just now. . . but she boldly confronted the Customer Service people and waited while her issue was addressed and personally apologized for. Is it us? Are we uppitty? Have we reached our tolerance for unacceptable paid services? Is it the barometer? Is Mercury retrograde? Is it the end of the world as we know it?

We'll see. I have to go pick up Ben and Milo from Emma's birthday party, so any number of unthinkable things may be reported at that time. Then Max and I go see a local production of "The King and I" this evening. More potential for weirness, weirdiosity and utter weirditude.

Nasal Irrigation

2008-02-26T21:50:00.002-05:00

Eeeeeew.

But really. I get very very bad allergies in both the Fall and the Spring, I'm allergic to both trees and grasses. And cats. And oxygen. But a couple of years ago I flushed out the ole shnozz for about 4 night straight using a waterpik attachment and AK's patented Cavity Cleanse recipe. And I haven't suffered from allergies much since at all. If I ever do, just a couple of hose jobs and I'm back in action.

So after the 4,877,412th time I asked Max at dinner to either chew with his mouth closed or slow down & breathe between bites -- AK brewed up a new batch of Nose Hose Chablis for Max. She showed him her way of irrigating, I showed him mine. He's done it for 2 or 3 days now, and while the jury is out on whether it'll cure his terminal cloggage . . . he hasn't snored for the last 2 nights.

It's weird, no doubt. But it works. And it's not as weird as my old hippie Philosophy professor who told us how he learned to do it by snorting water up his nose and spitting it out his mouth. No, I believe we are downright conservative in our irrigation methods! You set the waterpik on low power and aim straight back (if you aim UP you'll get a total underwater-somersault-without-holding-your-nose headache). And I don't know what sort of frogs toes or eyes-of-newt goes into the witches brew but I think that helps too.

Lux: Two more bodies to go, then it's just paint the remaining inventory for Ebay at my leisure. Homestretch goooood. AK is strapping in for a month of hairy, nasty, pimple-ridden work deadlines so I'll be needed everywhere in the house OTHER than the paintshop.

The Great Pennsylvanian Snowplow Strike of '08

2008-02-12T20:01:00.000-05:00

Intense weather. Huge snow. All up in here. And you'd have thought they've never seen it before, the way they are NOT plowing the roads. I saw 3 plows this morning, but they were keeping the roads going the OTHER way nice and clear.

Cool. I do have a reverse commute.

But then the snow snow snow came down down down. All day day day. And it wouldn't appear they ever got around to plowing another darn road in all of Center County. I want to say "Dear Center County: Did you know that in some other places it snows too? And there, life goes on? And people get to work and to school just fine? It's not a miracle, it's called CIVIC PLANNING people. Go play SimCity for a day straight and I pet you'll do a better job. A few inches of precipitation need not bring a modern city to it's knees.

I'm still a little sick, but only in the evenings. I paint terribly slowly and watch the Heroes: Season 1 DVD set my friend loaned me. This is SO the way to watch a TV show. No pandering commercials, no cliffhanger hangs for very long. Awesome.

For a TV show, I like Heroes. It's worth watching (without the commercials). But I don't know yet how it ranks with the other superhero-theme stories I love so much. Is Season 2 on DVD yet?

Sunday Good.

2008-02-10T19:07:00.000-05:00

Friday not so much. I finally got the Ick that AK had most of the week late Thursday. Friday was a complete wash. Totally useless was I. I want to say I got some Lux work done. But I was so spaced out that I made mistakes that took all of Saturday to fix. This put me, at the end of Saturday, right where I would have been had I not done any work on Friday.

I did get to have a mini film festival, catching up on all the Netflixes I don't have time to watch anymore. I watched:
Sunshine: Cool psycho-SciFi film with great music. Completely wacky ending. I'd need to watch it 3 or 4 more times to explain the ending.
Solaris: Sci-Fi love story psycho-thriller. The kind of movie that makes you say "I bet this was/would have been a great book". Turns out it was not only a great book but a more true-to-the-book movie was made in '72. So I've got the '72 version on my want list now.
The Fountain: Just downright freaky. But good. This was one of the rare movies that I liked much less AFTER I watched the special features. When you learn the movie nearly got not-made 3 times, the director is a yob, and no one had any fun doing the work -- the movie becomes less appealing.
Also recently, I saw an old Australian post-apocalypse film called:
The Quiet Earth: Surpirsingly good! Netflix it.

Saturday had me working on Lux and recovering and celebrating Max's recent skiing accomplishment: TUSCALOOSA! or Tuscarora or Talladega or something. It's the next most challenging ski hill at Tussey Mountain. Again, this is sooooo good for him. AK had been out among the living all day, so I got to go to the church's leadership conference broadcast on "Growing a Mountanous Posterior". Not really, it was "Building a Righteous Posterity" and was all about family.

Today we just barely made it to Church on time despite being very together and collected and leaving in plenty of time. We had a sudden onset of BLIZZARD happen on our way to church! Complete whiteout no-visibility. Wacky. I passed the sacrament with all of the other "Teachers" and "Priests" (those are young men) and even though I had the easiest of the jobs I managed to somehow mess it up. :(. This, along with blessing and preparing the sacrament a little later, is part of me doing the Aaronic Priesthood thing. After all that's done, and probably some other stuff I don't know about yet, I can be a Melchezidek Priesthood holder like all of the other men at church. Mostly it's a young man/grown man thing, though technically it's a temporal needs/spiritual needs thing. The office of Bishop, the leader of the whole ward, is technically an office of the Aaronic Priesthood because his work is about meeting the worldly needs of everyone. In any case I'm glad to be over that hump. Maybe next week I'll be the guy who does more advanced sacrament passing? Wonder how long it's been since someone spilled a whole basket of Jesus Shooters on the Bishop?

Also at church today the boys of Troop 40's Lightning Patrol received a nice large plaque. For their platypus-themed sled -- which gave us visions of "Most Creative Sled Design" -- they received "Sled Most Likely To Fall Apart". Hm. A Dubious honor indeed. It is my hope that many plaques were handed out, not just ONE because there were HUNDREDS of sleds there and as, well, fallen apart as it was by the end of the day it just COULDN'T have been the the worst one. It is also my hope that what really happened was, well, out of hundreds of teams, we made an impression. Maybe we got this award because there wasn't an award for "Best Team Cheer", since several Station Mayors were very impressed with the boy's Lighting Patrol Cheer (not Playtpus-themed, but learning a song is HARD and it's taken us since the Fall just to get the cheer right). Those are my hopes. Hey, it's a plaque! It will go into a display case at church, along with the 2nd Place Overall plaque from, like, decades ago. And for all time and eternity it will read "AZTEC PLATYPII" on it. And that will help 5 boys and one man to remember a very special, very fun Klondike Derby. So that's good. I guess :/

Then I had to go to the store. That kind of blew. The store was fine, on account of being heated, actually. It was the putting in the Taurus of the $40 of gas that blew. On account of the 14 degrees and the howling wind and the NO HAIR.

But then we all had AK's spicy bean soup for dinner with a wide variety of Wegmans baguettes, and that fixes a lot of the universe's wrongs right there. Then we all sat on the floor and joked and played Jumpin' Monkeys. Then we played with finger puppets, which led to a game where the finger puppets are systematically slaughtered by the giant poodle that comes along and eats them off your fingers. VERY. FUNNY right there. Twins were actually turning blue from lack of oxygen. Comedy is serious, folks, use with care. Now Max and AK are planning out the raised gardens Gramma Gaye has recently approved for her vast backyard. The names of the varieties are greek to me, but I'm pretty sure they are talking about Thisberries and Thoseberries and Theotherberries and that is berry, berry good news. Ben and Milo are working together on Jump Start 1st Grade software.

State College is beautiful these last two days with a good cover of snow. The wind is howling like a monster. I love seasons. I love weather. I love the valleys and the twisty roads over the diagonal ranges of Northern Appalachia. So much of our story has yet to be written, but it's great to know the setting is exactly what it will be for the next 12 years. One mystery solved.

It was the kind of Sunday I look forward to having on Mondays and Tuesdays etc. . . . As soon as I'm done with Lux work and can focus on really being here when I'm here. I'm tired of the 2 Job Boogie!

Billy Joel. Skiing. Whatever.

2008-02-05T20:37:00.000-05:00

So Max and I went to go see "Movin' Out" and it was a blast. It was, really, a "rock ballet" in so far as there were no lines recited. There was an expanded rock band and a "Piano Man" hanging from the ceiling to play all of the Billy Joel music. Then there were dancers, who acted out the story of a group of friends through the 50s, 60s & 70s & 80s exclusively through dance. Max was very excited about it, and I think enjoyed it a great deal though he surely had no frame of reference for such a unique "play". I know it's made an impression on him, as he talks about it quite a bit and usually has a Billy Joel song in his head lately.

There were 1.5 exclusively adult-themed numbers, the really racy one being a drugged hitting-bottom scene to "Captain Jack". The other had two lovers, worlds apart, being simultaneously tempted by the fruit of another. I imagine (hope) most of the Captain Jack bit was over his head. But on the other one, he had a question. He asked it. I answered it. No big deal. Well, OK, big deal. But I can't help but think somehow we're doing something right because he was comfortable enough to ask his father about something he didn't understand and it didn't occur to him to feel weird or ashamed or awkward in any way about not knowing or wanting to know. :)

He's also going to see a student-produced play at Penn State with his class next week and looking forward to that. Our pirate play in Readers Theater is going well now that it's finally cast. Now the 5th and 6th graders need to memorize their lines. Eek. This is why we were doing READERS THEATER instead of THEATER THEATER! Oh well. It's a smaller group this semester of really enthused kids, they are ready to do a "real" play I think. Max is the only boy in the class, and for this reason he is completely useless to me.

Next year? Totally teaching a photography class instead.

Ski Class is another timedrain for us lately. We have been fortunate that so far most of the ski classes we paid so much for have actually had snow to ski on. But Max has made SUCH PROGRESS this year. For once he gets to actually feel competent and competitive with his peers in a sporting event of some kind. He gets to be scared, face his fears, and emerge triumphant somehow every time he goes to one of this twice weekly classes. The twins have taken up the pursuit, as much as 6 year olds can. Here they are not skiing. . .

. . .and here they are manipulating the instructors by lecturing on the Hults Agenda instead of skiing down the scary hill. . .

Straight Job: I joke that Pointy Haired Boss is my alter ego at work. It's a way for me to be self-deprecating and easygoing with my charges, while also hopefully functioning as a couterpoint to highlight that I am NOT a completely incompetent supervisor.

The job is strange and familiar. It's challenging and has a bright future and I get to do a lot of what I'm good at. And it will never pay enough to make up for the time I'm not spending with my family :(. AK assures me it's saving our patootie right now, since one of her clients is not paying on time. And I try to take solace in that. But the whole point was to get ahead and get ahead fast. I never wanted it to become just-something-I-go-do-everyday. What makes it so hard right now is that I can't let Lux Graphics go until the orders are all filled. THEN I can really BE HOME when I come home. I think that will be rewarding for me, I'll feel less disconnected compared to how connected I was before -- and AK could sure use the help around the house. I look forward to applying myself in photography when Lux is gone, and at the same time wonder how I'll buy photogrpahy equipment or classes. . . . with Lux gone.

Change is in the air. These wonderful, wide-open party primaries are likely to be less interesting and wide-open after today. But it will make us focus even more intently on our futures. It will force us to ask ourselves just what is important, just what do we want in our leaders and our government. And that (prioritizing, planning, dreaming) is a good habit to start, even if -- like so many good habits -- we fall away again and again.

My employer is completely changing the very fundamentals of how it produces it's product.

My church has a new leader at the very highest (OK not THE highest. . . but you know. . . ) level.

My son is entering puberty. New babies are popping up like poopy, pukey, adorable and life-affirming little poppies.

Our economy is now, almost, oficially, getting tight. I can't believe they are just now reporting "It might. . . actually . . . officially . . . be a recession!" We've been receding here for a couple of years already.

And Mercury is in retrograde. So watch out. I have NO faith of any kind in Astrology. It's superstition. Like Stevie said, when you believe in things you don't understand then you suffer. Despite my most vehement bah's, pshaw's and poo poo's -- my life still turns to a steaming pile of dog crap due to breakdowns in technology and communications every time that little red star starts to move backwards acros the sky. For the next few weeks? Don't move your laptops. Don't upgrade to Vista. And when in doubt, just call, don't e-mail.

Rock on my blog reading peeps. Both of you. Hang in there.

Klondike!

2008-01-30T18:59:00.001-05:00

Last week was all about preparations for The Klondike Derby. The Klondike Derby is a wintertime Boy Scout tradition here, and I understand there are similar events in other snowy places. As much as I am just now recovering from all the preparations and of course the event itself, I have to admit it's a blessing. We just. Can't. Do. Any of the normal Scout program stuff until the damn sun comes out again. There is only so much First Aid and knots for the boys to study. They need to camp. They need to orienteer. They need to swim.

Saturday was the big day, and we were so fortunate to actually have SNOW for the derby. You want snow, see, because each team (ours was in the older "Iditarod" division had 3 11 year old Boy Scouts and 2 10 year old Cub Scout Webelos) has to transport all of their needs for the day in a sled on skis. Most are really dogsled-like in their design. Fortunately ours was the smaller box-on-skis design and a little lighter. All the teams come up with names and decorate their sleds, then compete for points by going to 10 different stations around the scout camp and doing scouty things. They cook, they do first aid, they do reading and attend a history lecture, they shoot (ACK!) rifles/shotguns/bows, take edible plant ID quizzes, etc. . . .

We learned the names of the other two (older boy) teams from our Troop were "The Chuck Norris Rebellion" and "The Bloodsucking Bunnies". This inspired the boys to name themselves "The Aztec Platypii", so I helped them decorate their sled to look like an actual platypus with fur and a flipper tail and webbed flippers. No duckbill unfortunately (how would YOU simulate a giant black duckbill on a sled?) so it tended to look like a flippered wolf spider from the front. But that was not an issue since the tail and most of the flippers were trounced/amputated not far into the event. They did a lot of work to color in their flag, my best sketch of what an Aztec platypus might look like, and Max was the brave Scout who volunteered to sew the velcro on the fur with a sewing machine.

There were highlights and lowlights for the boys. The highlight I think was when they got to shoot real guns. I'm a little conflicted about this, but didn't have much choice but to go along with it. I respect that for most of the country guns mean sporting and food and male bonding. I respect that no one else around here grew up thinking guns were for PEOPLE and caused death and loss and heartache. So when in Rome, we let kids fire rifles and shotguns I guess. 2 of my 5 actually hit their rifle targets. Poor Max kept steaming up his safety glasses and never could see what the heck he was shooting at. But then they went to the skeet shoot, where mostly kids shot in the general direction of flourescent orange flying discs. Then the kids mostly reeled in pain and amazement from the gun kicking them in the arm or shoulder. But (literally) blind luck was with Max. Max only generally aimed at the skeet, he later told me, counting on the fact I shared with him that if he shot at the height of it's arc he'd have a better chance. His eyes were closed, he didn't even see it shatter. But shatter it did, to the oohs and aahs of many scouts who were bored of watching the skeets fall intact back to the ground. Here I think he just fired . .

The lowlight was easily the cooking station. I'd prepared them as much as possible and they'd done much of the preparations and planning. And I'd warned them that I would NOT be leading them but standing back to watch. That's the Scout way, to let the Scouts lead the Scouts. My job is to support them in learning leadership. But in truth it's an awful lot to orchestrate for 11 year olds. Especially 11 year olds who have led relatively easy lives and are only as mature as they've each deemed necessary to get their everchanging needs met. So it was a disaster. And I let it be. And I felt embarassed as the "coach" who graded them watched over the bumbling, confusion and frustration of the boys. But my thinking was: they have many camp trips (at least 2 this Summer) and Klondikes ahead of them. Now is as good a time as any -- with someone watching and grading them, and with hungry tummies and limited time -- to learn WHY they should do twice the planning and preparation next time. I don't think I'll need to harass them next time to plan out exactly who will do what and how and in what sequence.

Tired but with tummies full of adventure we all crawled home from Klondike. I still have a beat-up sled full of dirty dishes and half-covered in cheap brown fur in my garage. But hopefully someone I know or someone I don't will somehow do something about it or steal it or something or something.

It's just inside the garage door.

The garage is unlocked.

In case you're, you know, somebody or something.

My Wife Is Funny.

2008-01-19T23:45:00.000-05:00

We went on a date tonight. After a Mexican dinner, nothing says I love you like trips to Michaels for airbrush paints and then to Wegmans for broth and a pound of beef. No? In line, I spy this. . .

. . .and say "hey look. Candy. Looks like rocks". Alaska says "Yeah. I thought they were rocks". Then (and she tells me this is a symptom of mania, and I should be concerned about it, her habit of constantly reciting song lyrics, but mostly it just annoys me. . . .) she says "Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got".

:) And then I loved her a little more for being as quietly clever as she is cute.

And then I told her joke to the checkout girl.

And then the checkout girl giggled and no doubt wondered to herself if the weird middle-aged people were up past their bedtimes or forgot their meds or were just suffering from that heinous, incurable disease called AGE.

Mostly today I painted. Still I only got two bodies done. Two of the four that are due. Four of the umptynine shizzlemillion that are on the Lux Graphics website queue. Aside: I don't know anyone who casually -- let alone correctly -- uses the word queue in conversation. I know it's an English thing. Mostly I just like to type it. Queue. I sound it out "KYOO-YOO" in my mind while typing. It's like the street I have to turn on to get to work: Presque Isle Street. It's pronounced PRESK ILE by the natives. But there were too many letters in it, and they're squished together on the sign so it not only looks like one word "PRESQUEISLE" but it looks like it should be prnounced PREE SQUEEZLE. So I use every imaginable opportunity to say PREESQUEEZLE. Try it! PREESQUEEZLE. It's the squeezle right before the primary squeezle.

YES today I painted. AK and Max went to the ski place so Max could ski on his skis and use the 1.3 billion dollar ski pass AK bought him for the Winter. Ben played Pokemon Colloseum, because he's big enough to play a Max game like that. . .

Milo mostly read. That there is a collection of Far Side cartoons. Does that count as reading?

Note to self: The reason those pajama pants were on top of the dresser last night was probably to set them apart from the pajama pants that FIT the boys. Those look like pajama bermudas. But you can see a warm "yarny sock" so at least his knees AND ankles were warm. If not the shins between.

It's a Matter of Toast

2008-01-18T13:14:00.000-05:00

Last night rocked :)

I splurged recently. I was sitting in an airport last week, thinking how great it is that I really don't spend much time anymore sitting in airports, and missing my boys. I read a copy of "Town and Gown" a State College lifestyle magazine, and saw an ad for "Movin' Out". This is a Broadway "rock ballet" combining the works of Billy Joel with the choreography of Twyla Tharp. It won some Tonys when new, and is now making the rounds to places as geographically-obscure-yet-culturally-aware as State College PA.

Max. Loves. Billy Joel. He asked for Billy Joel songs on his iPod way before he asked for Earth Wind & Fire or Stevie Wonder songs on his iPod. He likes "We Didn't Start the Fire" and "Pressure" and "I'ts Still Rock & Roll To Me". So I bucked up and paid as much as anyone has probably ever paid for tickets to a show in State College PA. He's very excited, so we watched our Billy Joel music video collection last night in my workshop as I worked on Lux stuff. Ben and Milo, being Max'netic, settled in to watch the "movies of music". Ben was happy to sit and be erapt, no doubt because this is what Max was doing. But Milo.

Rocked.

Out.

I mean out. Literally. As in unconscious. From the twirls and leaps and spins that threw him to the floor (concrete garage floor with only in/outdoor carpet) on 4 out of 5 times. But he dug the tunes, he heard the rythms and the emotion and he just sensed on a very deep level that this was something you were supposed to move around to. Out of breath, after a particularly rigorous climax at the end of the song "Matter Of Trust", he panted. . .

"It's a matter of TOAST???"

Dear 2007: Don't let the door thwap yer booty on your way out. Love, The Hults'

2007-12-31T20:18:00.000-05:00

OH it wasn't that bad. Many, many wonderful and memorable things happened in 2007. It's just that there wasn't an ABUNDANCE of wonderful memorable things. Its like, if ONE LESS wonderful memorable thing had happened, there wouldn't be enough to offset the stinky nasty things and WE'D BE TICKED OVER HERE. But no, it all worked out.

Personally I'm most grateful that we gained a Gramma Hults this year. AK's probably grateful for this little light of mine. Max is probably grateful for the Wii he bought with his own earned money. Ben, Milo and Emily are probably grateful for whatever just happened to them in the last 3 minutes (gnat-like attention spans make for a very optimistic outlook on life).

And while we could bitch about our finances until the poodle wakes up --we can honestly say that this years was a financial crisis like no other. When you're driving your car, it's one thing to completely lose control of steering, brakes and throttle. Like you're on ice. It's quite another thing to carefully and intensely balance careful throttle, steering and brake controls to negotiate a slippery winding road. The difference is control. Control means you don't slam into a tree, first off. Control also means that you are where you are by choice and that is very powerful. Control means you are more found than lost. Control gives you the conviction and confidence necessary to negotiate your way PAST the ice.

So heading into 2008 we may just be past the ice. The road is still twisty and we expect it to be for 2 more years. But we've metaphorically upgraded the horsepower of our car and literally traded in for a smaller more economical model.

Aside from the about-to-start-a-new-job-jitters, I'm also concerned about my ability to balance the new job, the usual volunteer commitments, and the Lux Graphics workload. My Lux clients must have gotten word that we were looking to scale back -- because I got 4 new orders just today and a couple more rolling in. We'll see.

New Years Eve finds Max having a sleepover at Grammas so he can watch the ball drop on TV. Maybe some Rose Bowl Parade in the morning too. AK is knitting and kvetching that she'd like to watch some mindless TV also. Yet she seems content to knit knit, and knit. She's reading our new "Eat to Live" book, about the vegetarian diet we're considering. She tried cooking a big veggie soup today and despite early concerns on both of our parts (it looked more "plants in water" than it did "soup") she assures me it tastes quite good. Which is good. Because we have enough to feed a platoon or two of vegetarians. She must have lost the "Cooking For Two" and "Cooking for Your Family" cookbooks, and found the "Cooking for Your Country's Entire Armed Forces" cookbook. To celebrate 2007's passing, my recent Lux orders, and perhaps the end of our treat-eating ways -- I got us some treats for tonight :).

Speaking of treats, CHRISTMAS was just peaceful and simple and wonderful. We had visits from family and friends. We had a double-barrelled Gramma Gun on Christmas Day with 2 of the boys' 3 Grammas there. The boys got their gimme gimme groove on AND shared in the joy of others as we slowly and fairly distributed presents over the duration of the morning. Our goodie cup SO runneth over, with AKs creations and also the goodies our friends & family dropped off. Here are a few snapshots. . .

This is Mondo Matriarch! On the right is Alaskas great friend from the Navajo Nation. Her daughter just finished her PHD in Special Education at Penn State, so they stopped over on their way back home. This here is a rare gathering of sweet strong mothers, all of whom we are honored and blessed to know and love.

Below is a photo Max set up in my photocube and insisted I take for his Uncle Alex. . .

He specifically instructed me to take the photo, then Photoshop text into it reading "Thank you. . . . from a galaxy far, far away". So here it is, I hope Uncle Alex is one of the 4 people reading this blog! It was a fine gift, his very own "vintage" original Star Wars lego kits. I can't imagine what it took to cull the pieces and put them back in their original boxes!

This of course is typical Christmas jubilance. T-shirts from Gramma Donna and Gramma Gaye, stuffed toy cheeta (named "Chee") and the very popular build-ur-own-monster puppets.

And below is AK's impersonation of her adorable nephew Oliver. Oliver and Oliver's Mom and Oliver's Dad (who surely have learned by now that they won't be needing their first names for a few years. . . ) came for a much-overdue visit. Oliver charmed absolutely everyone. He was delightfully intrigued and befuddled by the mittens AK had sewn for him, and it was hilarious to watch him go between excitement and interest in these fuzzy soft things and then concern and consternation at his now-useless hands and fingers. At once point, he ran down our hallway with his mittened hands in the air seeming to say both "Yay!" and "Ack!".

With a hearty "Yay!" and a characteristic "Ack!" we are happy to shuffle 2007 out the door and invite 2008 in for some leftover Christmas cookies & fudge. We say to you, 2008 -- as we also might say to the next president of the U.S.A. -- "We don't know you, we haven't met you. But we know where we've been and where we're going has never looked so good."

Season of Sharing! or "You HAVE to take zuchini. We're related."

2007-12-19T08:55:00.000-05:00

I hope this works. I'm inspired to share some music not only by the musicalized Sunday post, but because I have another song to share. You should be able to click on the links and then they'll play as long as your computer has Quicktime plugins. Which I would imagine most do.

The first is, as promised, Joe & Eddies Children Go Where I Send Thee. The recording levels are very low, it might have been recorded in mono the record is so old, so TURN IT UP if you can! The munchkins and I insist that it be played at 11 here at Chez Hults. If you can get it that loud, close the curtains because you'll be dancin' (or at least boppin a little waist-up car-dance. . . ) by the end. 2 men, a banjo and a tambourine. . . .

Joe & Eddie

This second song I heard back in November, the first time in my life I actually REMEMBERED to tune in to XMPR and listen to Prairie Home Companion live. The show had a Fall harvest theme, and this lady played this song ALL ABOUT ALASKA! I couldn't believe it. So I made a SERIOUS mental note to remember the name of the singer and the song.

Yeah.

Ohhhhhhhh, 2 months later. . . . . I think "BOY did I hear a song you would have liked AK. It was all about tomatoes and canning and frosts". She was interested, so I got out my nun-chuks and did a little Google Fu. I can't beleive I not only found the artist and song but iTunes actually had what I wanted! That never happens. I often have to go to Limewire. Which I don't like to do for about 12 reasons. But that's another blog. From Stephanie Davis, here is. . .

Talkin' Harvest Time Blues

Keep in mind they might take a minute to play, they've got to mostly download first :).

Fungus milk pillow

2007-12-16T14:16:00.000-05:00

Not really. I get a lot of spam. And as I'm going down the list, trying to train my Thunderbird to recognize spam from not spam, sometimes an e-mail subject catches my eye. I have no use for these catchy phrases aside from blog post titles :(.

It is a good Sabbath :). Sabbath, near as I can tell, is what churchy people call "Sunday". Some churches have a list of recommendations concerning what should or shouldn't be done on Sunday. Mine is one of them. As a family, we adhere to the spirit behind the details on the lists wholeheartedly. However, we are not about lists. I would venture to say that those who get caught up in the yes/no good/bad ok/not-ok stuff are missing the point in a big fat hairy and green-boogered way.

We went to the first third of church despite Milo's awful wheezing cough and AK's coming down with the same crud. Then during the Christmas program, with all the singing and the rocking piano (for Mormons. . .) playing, Daddy felt awfully weird & woozy. So we waddled off early into the slushy icy snow that'd been falling all night. Before reaching Terminal Wooze, I jumped into work clothes and shoveled Gramma's house so she can to therapy tomorrow. Gramma explained how sick Bubbacat has been. I looked into Bubba's normally predatory eyes, saw his deepfelt woozy wierdness, and shared his wooze. Maybe Bubba and I have the same bug? I sure do feel like hucking up a hairball right now.

Max snuck off for some snow play. AK is cooking cookies and fudge for Xmas gifts. I go back and forth between whining under an afghan on the couch, and chasing AK around the kitchen for smooches.

AK asked awhile for ago for a copy of my "Gospel" mix, so I condensed it and put it on a CD for her. This was some time ago. I grabbed it today and asked if she wanted to hear her Gospel CD. She was not aware there ever was a gospel CD. :( ANYWAY its' awfully good. And I must say I'm using a very loose interpretation of the word "Gospel". Many of these are songs I've loved for a long time merely on their merits as moving music. Some are bible'y, some are family'y, most merely touch on themes of faith. Here is the condensed CD-length version of my iTunes mix:

*Friends & Family by Trik Turner

*Living Prayer by Alison Krauss and Union Station

*Try to Believe by Oingo Boingo

*Come On in This House by The Fairfield Four

*People Get Ready by Rod Stewart

*How Many Miles Must We March by Ben Harper

*Children Go Where I Send Thee by Joe & Eddie

*I'll Fly Away by Alison Krauss and Gillian Welch

*We're Moving On by The Seekers

*Down To The River by Alison Krauss

*I Couldn't Hear Nobody Pray by The Fairfield Four

*Higher Ground by Stevie Wonder

*Church by Lyle Lovett

*This Little Light of Mine by The Steeles

*Do What the Spirit Say by Sweet Honey in The Rock

No, your eyes do not deceive you. The Gospel According to Chris blends Stevie Wonder with Oingo Boingo with Lyle Lovett and Trik Turner. Here is some ad-hoc, questionably factual but inspired musicology. . .

Trik Turner: This was their one and only single I believe. They were about the time Linkin Park was happening, but had a slightly different flavor. Apparently America liked the taste of Linkin Park better, but this has always been one of my favorite songs.

The Fairfield Four: These guys were on the O Brother album, and while I didn't dig their song there I sure liked their sound so I googled. There are five of them, see. And last I googled they were all so old they might be down to three now. Traditional old-timey gospel, they sound like a a barbershop quartet EXCEPT the highest key any of them sing in is TENOR! Lots of clapping and snapping, which I love, which I really with the Mormons would get with, but oh well.

Allison Krauss: Also discovered her via O Brother. She is totally hot, and on YouTube somewhere you can see a duet with her and Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant that made me swoon. Her voice is like an angel's, like the little missionary girl who visited us in Minnesota. Some music, you don't have to believe it, the musicians believe enough for all of us, and I gotta give mad props there. It's like in the Marc Cohn song (which I find far superior to the recent country cover) Walking in Memphis:

Now Muriel plays piano Every Friday at the Hollywood
And they brought me down to see her And they asked me if I would --
Do a little number And I sang with all my might
And she said -- "Tell me are you a Christian child?"
And I said "Ma'am I am tonight"

Like DIANE LANE hot. If you can say that about a Christian. She's a CILF (Christian I'd Like to Familiarizemyselfwith)

The Seekers: My mother loved the folk music of the 60s, and I don't know if my Dad did but he tolerated it. So I grew up with an abundance of both classical music and folk music. As a child I loved the catchy tunes, as a man (and I had to dig to find some of those songs, it wasn't nearly the popular movement Rock was in the same era. . . ) I love the harmonies and the counterpoints and MY GOD SOME OF THOSE LADIES CAN BELT THAT SHIZZLE OUT! This lady is a top notch shizzle belter, and on this one she really rocks for a white girl.

"On any Sunday. . . . la la leeee. . . "

Oingo Boingo: Danny Elfman (Boingo) and Mick Jones (The Clash, Big Audio Dynamite) somehow, at some point, lived inside my head as a young man. I don't know how, but they write songs that speak to me, of me, from me and about me. This song was from one of Oingo Boingo's last non-collection original albums and much to my wife's chagrin (along with B.A.D's "Free". . .) makes it onto pretty much every mix tape/CD/Playlist I've ever done.

Do you remember Danny Elman in the 80s? This is a mild look for him.

Sweet Honey in The Rock: A nice hippie girlfriend of mine had a tape of them singing children's songs on one of our long motorcycle trips, and I've liked them ever since. Great traditional gospel harmonies. Again with the clapping and snapping :)

Little Light of Mine: I don't know The Steeles from boo, but this was on the Corinna Corinna soundtrack and it was our wedding processional. Awesome.

Joe & Eddie: This is another folk-era throwback. Apparently they had a short Jan & Dean style tragic career. I found a few of their songs when I was looking for counterpoint examples to show my Readers Theater students. This song, Children Go Where I Send Thee, is a traditional Christmas carol. I remember a rousing version of it in the TV-movie sequel to Lillies Of The Field. But THIS version. OMG. I've found nothing else by them that does to me what this song does. NO idea really what they're singing about. But listen. You don't have to know. They are FEE.

LING.

IT.

It's been a favorite here for a few months. Max loves it. Twins sing "ELIJAH SHOUT SHOUT" every other day. I'll see if I can't upload it and link to it or something. . .

Stevie: Stevie grew up in pop music, and you can see his maturity, growth and changes in the progression of his albums. I like that. My favorite period was Talking Book and Hotter Than July, this was his afro-centric/ghetto champion period lyrically. And musically there is little funkier than the funk rhythm guitar and organ work on these albums. You know the opening bars in Superstition? It's almost TWO ALBUMS (remember albums?) WORTH of that slow twisting soul. Personally, I believe the artistry of his earlier work (the boy could blow a harp, too) more than compensates for some of the pop tripe of his later career. I forgive you, Stevie. You can come play at my party any day. But we can't have the party at church. At least not in the chapel. If anyone out there wins the lottery, lets get Stevie Wonder to play my 39th birthday party in the State College Ward's Primary Room!

Where else have you seen S-Dub without his shades?

Rod Stewart: He's got a cool voice, very stylized, and love or hate some of his top-40 pop music you've got to admit he feels it when he sings it. That, and when I was 14 Heather Black wrote the lyrics to "You're In My Heart" in a card just for ME. So he can play at my party too. If he's still kickin'.

Lyle Lovett? NO idea. I've always wondered about this guy. Love his nose, LOVE the hairdo, and he ride's Ducati motorcycles so he must be cool. But I'm not very familiar with his music. This song isn't a spiritual, but it's in the gospel style (SNAP AND CLAP! Woot!) and it's very funny. My brother likes him, so he must be a talented musician with a sense of humor.

. . . that's not a Duc but it is Italian. I could swear he's got a whole collection of Ducatis and can often be found at track days tearing it up.

OK. Inserting all those pictures? In my blog? Was a nightmare. I don't know why, but BLOGGER always puts the photo at the top and adds "return"s into the whole blog every time you link to a photo. Does anyone know what I'm doing wrong? Is there a way around this? But it's OK, I know how both of you out there appreciate some eye candy with your brain candy.

It's going on dinner time here. AK has baked herself into a sleepy poodle pillow on the couch. Max is building legos. Milo is lecturing, um, someone. I don't know where Ben is but it's too cold out for him to have gone far. Our big nasty storm didn't bring us more than a few inches of slush. But now the winds are really kicking up and making some righteous noises so I'm going to sign off and listen to some different music until bedtime.

Kiss those iPods!

Straight Job: Check

2007-12-13T22:40:00.000-05:00

Word has already mostly gotten around, but yes the search for the elusive straight job is over. Shain Solutions is an educational/commercial furniture manufacturer about a half-hour from us in Philipsburg. They are growing fast and changing faster with an agressive new VP, and they want to change the face of the company. So they went looking for a PR/Customer Relations Manager to oversee CSRs, Inside Sales and Custom Quote staff. I'm what they got. Though we mostly talked marketing and manufacturing during the interview, I imagine my main task will be to "change the culture" there in the office. I love a challenge, and Honda taught me deep lessons about corporate philosophy, lifetime client loyalty and team building.

Of course this time, for team building, we'll stay away from Razor scooters and multi-level parking ramps. And Captain Morgan. And Emergency Rooms.

At least for the first year :)

Enthusiastic congratulations have been rolling in. And I'm grateful :). Indeed, I've been want ad-scanning, resume spamming and going on interviews for about two months now. It did feel good to finally feel that "this is right" vibe, and it felt redeeming to get the offer. Like Thomas the Tank Engine, I had come to want nothing more than to BE A USEFUL ENGINE!

I also think it's important to point out that I have not been unemployed for the last 3 years. I capitalized and started my own business, and though the niche is small it's probably safe to say I'm #3 in the market. Over this past year, there were times that Lux Graphics provided our only income.

A straight job has only been a goal this last two months, as difficult decisions were made by Alaska and I regarding our finances and our short and long term goals. Working for myself has provided me with something infinitely more valuable than a 401k or health benefits: quantity time with my sons and wife. And while painting people's model racecars for a living sent -- and still may send -- shivers of paralyzing fear up and down the spines of some people who care for us very deeply. . . it gave the most important people in my life (my family) exactly what they needed (an active, involved and very very PRESENT father & husband). This is why it's been such a difficult decision.

A straight job (if it could be found, and it did prove more elusive than planned) would provide the following items that we, at this time, place great value on:
-more income than Lux Graphics
-someone ELSE taking the taxes out for us
-less expensive health insurance (we have not gone without, we just paid through the nose)
-some regularity & consistency to our income, to avoid the peaks & valleys of 2 self-employed people with 2 sets of loyal but flakey clients

At the same time, with a straight job, the following sacrifices must be made:
-lessens the time I can give to volunteer work with scouts and Readers Theater
-puts more of the parenting load on Alaska, while not lightening her work load at least for the first 2 years
-it puts me back with the rest of the Dads out there fantasizing about mythical "quality time" with my sons because I no longer have quantity time.
-TWO THOUSAND HOURS that I will NOT spend with my sons or wife in 2008. That one kills me. There is nothing more precious to me than that time.

Do you see why, while it's nice to feel I actually DO still have value in the professional world, this is as bittersweet as it is thrilling? I have learned to see my value in terms much broader and more meaningful than those of the professional world. But we want so badly to be debt free, to SHOW our sons while they are still impressionable the liberty and joy this kind of life can bring them. We want this badly to begin the lesson when the twins are 8 and Max is 13, not later. We believe that these two years of sacrifice will be the key to perhaps much more freedom and success when we launch our NEXT entrepeneurial ventures.

I am grateful, and I am so happy. I'm so excited to get back in the game because while yes -- it nearly destroyed my family last time :) -- I was gooooood at playing the game. And it feels good to be good at something when there are others there to see it and benefit from it. There are so many more millions of dollars being spent on educational furniture than there are on custom RC paint, and so much more opportunity to bring my family what it needs right now.

It's not the last chapter, but it is the next chapter. I only hope, and pray I guess (gotta work on that) that I can keep the perspective and priority these last few years have given me. I hope I can apply myself in this new direction while still maximizing my time with my sons. I know not to put pressure on our limited time together, I know to just let us be. I know to never stop hugging and adoring and trusting in them. I know to work harder and schedule better so I CAN still be the Scout Leader and I CAN still teach Readers Theater. It will be a balancing act, but I really can't worry about it too much because I know I've got what it takes to fix it if it ever gets that broken again.

Photography: Still moving forward with Self Taught Studio Portraiture 101, as it can supplement the income with a little more study and help me move toward making the photos I want to make -- whether or not I get paid for those. After 2 years of study, this may become Lux Version 2.0

Lux Graphics: I can't imagine letting go of it, as much as I want to huck my Iwata brushes into the woods. I hope to paint a few bodies a week, custom or Ebay, after the kids go to bed. I hope to build up an "Economical Commute Alternative" savings fund if you know what I mean. If it just doesn't work? Well. I've lived without an Economical Commute Alternative for a few years now, it won't kill me. And in that case I sure would enjoy that Iwata Hucking Party.

OH! Back on celebrating the new job: Alaska took us all out to Hoss's Steak House. This is a regional chain of family-friendly steak/seafood/buffet places, and when she went a couple of weeks ago thought it was pretty good. Well, AK just about cried when Gramma could barely eat her crabcake sammich and I could not get halfway through my still-moo'ing "Medium Well" cleaver cut steak. She had to admit that while her scallops were good, there were only about 3 of them! Max, Ben and Milo were sick & couldn't taste anything. And it WAS cool that the cooks sliced the boys' names into their hot dogs! Gramma and I thought it was hilarous because it just would not get better: AK's Mountain Dew had the syrup mix all wrong, and instead of offering to credit us for the steak the waitress nervously offered to cook it some more. Ew.

Emily LOVED it. And the manager did credit us the steak with much apologies for some data entry mix up. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I've had rare steaks before and loved them. The problem was that THIS WAS A VERY OLD AND VERY ANGRY COW WHO LIVED A DEPRESSED AND MISERABLE LIFE. Every bite was full of grisle and my jaw was sore from chewing what tasted like a big bloody beef liver.

But mostly, it really was funny. And poor AK just couldn't get the joke, she was crushed and felt our fine celebration was ruined. But we have some funny memories, we STILL didn't have to do any dishes -- and since they probably won't be seeing Young Scholars of Central PA Charter School for another fundraiser -- maybe they'll serve the next PAC President who takes her family there more scallops.

The Best Two Days

2007-12-09T16:19:00.000-05:00

Has it been a MONTH since I blogged? Sheesh, I suck.

It's raining heavily. We've had several good layers of snow this past week, and now it's all melting and freezing to create driving/walking danger and a slightly less picturesque Pennsylvania outside our windows. But I am so glad it's raining. I love the weather. Which, if I think for a moment like I did living in California, sounds absurd. It's as though I said "I love socks" or "I love spice racks". The weather used to be something that simply was, and never deserved comment aside from an occasional rainy inconvenience. But here (Midwest too) it's a very big part of what you do on any given day and how you go about doing it. It's a relative, visiting often, that we have in common with everyone else who lives here. So we've always got something to talk about! She does dramatic things to us. She makes all sorts of noises, like the din right now coming from our metal window eaves or the melting ice crackles of this morning. Most importantly, she provides us with seasons that mark the passing of time. Occasions and birthdays and holidays and whole years can just blend into one another when you don't have the demarcation of seasons. Temperatures change, trees and colors and wildlife change (the bear family I think is getting desperate, we found a mysteriously-colored and frighteningly large poo in our driveway yesterday), and from day to day there can never be any doubt that time is passing. Clocks are ticking. Boys are growing. Moments need seizing! Maybe that's why I haven't blogged in awhile :)

Operation Straight Job continues as does Lux Graphics. Our (very) local newspaper did a series of articles last week about how tight things are getting here for the middle class. Duh. One of the articles was particularly relevant to O.S.J.The article detailed how -- while unemployment and job growth here are better than most places -- all the growth has been in retail and service jobs. If you're an educated, experienced, handsome bald man then the pickins are slim. Duh. Needless to say there haven't even been many resume's sent out lately. Though I did have a nice interview last week with a company in Philipsburg, and have my fingers crossed there. I liked the people and the company, and even if they didn't enjoy it as much as I did they got an accurate and healthy dose of Chris so they can make an educated decision about whether or not I fit in there.

Photography progresses, and I hope to set up some kind of studio in Gramma's big dry basement with it's high ceilings. I research and learn more every day in my spare moments, but doing what I am starting to think I want to learn how to do. . . . takes money. See previous paragraph.

Yesterday was my berfday, I'm a bouncing baby 38-year-old now. I was also baptised yesterday, so it's been a joyous weekend. We had friends visiting for the big occasion all the way from Western PA, Ohio and Vermont. It was such a peaceful wonderful time with all the visiting and the eating and the hanging out (and the eating). There was a healthy haze of estrogen floating around this weekend, as adorable little girl after adorable little girl seduced me. Aged from just months to 5 years, they made me so want the baby girl we never had. And hopefully their respective parents were inspired to be just a little more grateful via my envy. If nothing else they were grateful that it was a just a weekend visit. Because my freak mutant bongo-headed monster boys might have playfully broken them (the girls) as easily as Emily could have eaten our othervisitor's "Pocket Yorkie" on Saturday! Emily wouldn't have really hurt that little dog. But in retrospect I'm glad AK gave Emily one of her (AK's) anti-anxiety pills because the sub-Yorkie did seem to be in eminent danger of cardiac arrest should Emily so much as sniff her. Life is VERY frightening when you are that small.

And regarding the little girls again: AK is standing by with adoption papers, filled out and ready to sign, the very second I decide I'm not kidding about wanting a daughter.

For fun:

Some Days

2007-11-08T19:22:00.000-05:00

Some days, you want to say loudly, so everyone who saw/heard what your son just did/said can hear, "I don't know WHO this boy belongs to! I'm just the babysitter. WHEN is this kid's DAD going to come pick him up?"

Like today as I was teaching Readers Theater. I explained all the cool new things we were going to do with this next reading of our Vachel Lindsay poem, including the counterpoint, which will go like this. . . . . *explain cool counterpoint* . . . . but first I want to go through it without the new counterpoint. Just so we can learn our new parts and get the rythm down. Ok? We're not going to do the counterpoint. Got it? Ok. Here we go, just a read through without the counterpoint. One two three GO!

*Many students reading the poem*

*Max reading the poem with the counterpoint*

*Many students slowing down or stopping, staring at Max, to -- as subtley as possible -- let him know he'd screwed the proverbial pooch on this particular reading*

*Max continuing to read with the counterpoint -- with great conviction and expression, really a model for the rest of the class -- aside from the whole part where he zoned in on the cool part and forgot everything I said after that*

As before, I've got to hand it to him. He doesn't daydream halfway. He daydreams with such singleminded absentmindedness as to be a serious frontrunner in this year's Nobel Prize For Vacuity and Selective Focus.

But then sometimes, on the very same day, he'll assure you in some way that he WAS listening. And on some of those days he's show you that he was really listening TO THE THINGS THAT MATTERED. Aside from the assurance that he's pretty bright after all, and that your time spent parenting would NOT have been better spent on competitive cup-stacking -- he shows his perfect love for you in those moments. Because in those moments you realize that whenever it was you said to him "Listen. . . . this matters. . . .", he did.

Like tonight as I drove him home from piano theory class. I'd just read an article about how cash is becoming blase/outdated, or so VISA would have you think, by the TV commercial where a cash-using coffee buyer inconveniences everyone around him by slowing up the line, being dorky and old-fashioned. Getting ready to launch into a tirade/lecture on the evils of credit, I asked if he'd seen the commercial. He said. . .

"No. But I saw one where they were saying we should use this credit card because it adjusts to your budget. I was all 'If you're using a credit card -- you don't HAVE a budget!'".

*sniff*

*putting away lecture/tirade for use with Ben and Milo in a few years*

*feeling silly for being more ashamed than amused at the counterpoint incident, and committing to keep the big picture in mind especially where the 3 most important little people in my life are concerned*

It's going down to 30 degrees tonight, and I have every reason to believe it will do so tomorrow night and the next night. This would normally be of sub-microscopic concern to me, since we have pellets for our stove and 37 blankets on our bed. But this weekend, I'm camping.

It's a Boy Scout Outdoor Leaders Skills class. I am very comitted to my Lightning Patrol scouts, but have still been desperately seeking a rationale to postpone this volunteer training. Because, you know, THIRTY DEGREES PEOPLE! The reason I cannot flake on this, though, is that those very boys I am so committed to? They're supposed to camp out TWO WEEKS FROM NOW! Yes, when it's likely to be even colder. Our earlier camp trip -- the boys' very first one as real Boy Scouts overnight in a tent of their own with campfires and fun foods and hikes and adventures -- was cancelled due to really really nasty bad weather. Then it was postponed week after week after week because being a Mormon REALLY fills up a family's (not our family, we're not Mormon enough to be that busy) calendar. Even in November. So, as long as there is no wet weather (fluffy snow would be fine, just not muddy snow), we are going camping in sub-freezing temperatures the very day after Thanksgiving. And anything I learn this weekend camping in sub-freezing temperatures is likely to be invaluable when we all do it again in two weeks. So camping I go.

Think happy anti-frostbitten-infected-gangrenous-amputated-limb thoughts and send them generally Pennsylvania'ward?

And as Dy says, kiss those babies :)

More Portraity Goodness

2007-11-03T22:09:00.000-04:00

Took the twins out on a color hunt today. It is getting really brown here in a really big hurry. But we managed these. . .

I also raked the front yard and cleared out the Monster Truck and loaded it up with food storage orders for churchpeople. And made a few trips to the store :). That's my little stab at an "Alaska Post". She's so good at documenting her Herculean accomplishments on her blog and making me feel like a lazy slouch. Today her H.A.s were doing a bootyload of laundry while simultaneously writing for work, picking up the upstairs, and getting an in-home pre-physical for some lab rat Penn State study she and Max are participating in. There, now blogging her To-Done List is one less thing for her To-Do :)

Tomorrow is Terrorize Gramma's Cats day here in Pine Grove Mills. We will bring wholesome goodies over to Grammas house (it's her Berfday!) and mess it up while testing her cats' limits of human socialization. What better way to spend a Sunday?

WHERE TO FIND A HULTS As there seem to be more and more of us, we are getting easier and easier to misplace. Here is a guide to use as reference when you've lost or are otherwise in search of a Hults.

Alaska: Look low, Alaska is usually seated with either yarn or a laptop. She is very temperature sensitive, so you can rule out places like the beach or the woods or a Pittsburgh Penguins hockey game. You'll have to get her attention, so look for something you can throw at her. This is because she's learned that the social interaction expectations of others are inversely related to the extent of her engagement in the yarn or laptop. That is, the more into the yarn/laptop she seems -- the less she has to talk to anybody. If you have lost your Alaska in a very crowded, social environment, then listen for the "dzzzzt" sound of an electircal short circuit. That's her easily-overloaded nervous system indicating it's about to send her into convulsions.

Max: Max, like your car keys or the matching sock, can often be found wherever you left him. He is very reliably daydreaming most of the time, and his wanderings are quite accurately chaotic. That is to say, if you must wander from where you left your Max to find him, wander in a COMPLETELY random manner. If you attempt to follow the bright lights, or the big noises, or the pretty girls, you'll find that's a little too sensible and coherent for a truly perfect daydreamer.

Milo: Milo is our Boundary Boy. Milo can nearly always be found at the perimeter. The perimeter of the property, the perimeter of what you consider to be a safe and acceptable distance, or (if you've misplaced him for some time) the perimeter of Centre County. Milo seizes every opportunity to explore the boundaries. This may be because, as most children, he wants reassurance that his parents are maintaing safe boundaries for him, so he can relax and enjoy the naive innocence of childhood. Another likely theory, given the introverted loins which bore him hence, is that he desires at nearly all times to be as far as humanly possible from us and you everybody else.

If a perimeter check is fruitless, check the store's cashier area, the restaurant's kitchen, or anyplace attractive young ladies are wearing nametags. Milo uses his knowledge of these fine women's names to engage them in playful banter, ask for their phone numbers and ask them to write him love notes. Or just regular notes.

Ben: If you've lost your Ben at school, you'll find him stuck-like-hot-glue to his "girlfriend" Emma. Warning, separation attempts are likely to end in either overwrought melodramatic tears or at the very least a lecture from Ben regarding the rules of Ben's World and your apparent inability to abide by said rules. At any other time he's to be found in Max's shadow. He'll be the one doing what Max is doing and saying what Max is saying and studying with all his might to be The Next Max.

Emily: Emily in almost always in the house. If she's not dropping a slobbery tennis ball in your lap, or nuzzling your crotch for crumbs under the dinner table, she is surely either on the couch or my bed. Look closely, because when sleeping she looks nothing like any poodle you've ever imagined. Imagine a drunk sorority girl passed out half-dressed, petite-looking yet so unweildy that she is virtually immovable from her point-of-collapse. Got the image? Ok, if you're looking for a furry version of that on the bed or couch -- you'll recognize her.

If your Emily is not in the house, she may have gotten out. Look for a red apricot blur anywhere within Ferguson Township, since she carefully investigates the more interesting details of our neighborhood at speeds approaching 70mph. No matter where in the township she is, she will immediately return to you and jump into the Ford Expedition if you merely open the door. This is because her desire to be driven to the dog park completely overwhelms her memory of the fact that she hates being in a moving vehicle and usually gets violently carsick.

Sissy The Cat: If you're in Gramma's house, look down. There she is. She's anticipated your desire to seek her out, and has playfully fallen on her side to facilitate your petting of her squidgy bits.

Bubba The Cat: If you've lost your Bubba, keep an eye out in Grammas house for the following: predatory shoelaces, antagonistic molecules, Gramma's feet, or Sissy. Bubba takes his job as He Man Boss Cat, Physical Protector and Spiritual Leader of Grammas House very seiously. Protecting the housemembers from the above threats is his primary occupation, so if he's not fighting off the evildoers he's likely seeking them out or stalking them so as to catch them unawares and vulnerable.

Daddy: I am right here.

Bee Movie & Photo Session

2007-11-03T10:50:00.000-04:00

Friday was not going well. I found myself desperate to get out of the workshop, so Max and I snuck out to see The Bee Movie. Verdict? It was fun enough. Not nearly up to Pixar or even Dreamworks/Sony standards. Animated features depend more on story than live-action films. Pixar of course has prioritized story, and their storytelling, above all else, and this is how they manage to stay on top in this now-competitive field. This one was weak in the story. There were giggles in there, in the grown-up asides, but I must recommend that you Netflix this one instead of dropping $10-20 on seeing it in a theater.

Then Max and I drove around looking for what was left of our fall color so we could shoot his "school portraits". I'm happy to say that this was my first truly successful portrait photo shoot! I actually got a handful of images, in different poses, showing different facets of my uber-faceted son! Also got a lot of poop. But that's why you take so many shots :). Here is MY favorite:

AK really likes it too, but she says it makes him look 18. And she's just not ready for that. So she prefers this one:

We got a few more really good ones too :) Perhaps most importantly, we spent the day hanging out & goofing off.

Gramma got a "raise" somehow in her pension check, and treated us all to Applebees for dinner. It. Was. Sooooooooooooo nice to have someone cook our dinner and clean up for us! Eating out has not been in our budget, oh, since 2006. So this was a special treat, and it came at the end of a special day that started out -- for this middle-aged shmo -- not so special.

Thank you FAMILY!

The Post Halloween Coma Blues

2007-11-01T17:09:00.000-04:00

Halloween was alright, I suppose. You'll have to click over to AK's blog to see photos of the twinks and Max as Ketchup, Mustard, and Zorro. I usually voluteer for hand-out-the-candy duty. But this year our porchlight bulb was out. This sounds like a wwwwwwwweak cop-out indeed, but if you saw our porchlight -- and the way the whole fixture seems to be held in the ceiling only by cobwebs and some coats of paint -- you'd understand why we homebased from Gramma's house this year. Gramma's house is closer to the nice McMansion neighborhood, and that worked out since AK & the boys were walking and it was CHILLY last night. It also saves on candy, since apparently no one trick-or-treats on Gramma's street! We got only her neighbors on both sides as trick-or-treaters, and I imagine they just were seizing the opportunity to introduce themselves to Gramma.

I'm going on record as a crotchety old man here, and stating that I'm in favor of costume parties but 100% against the hoarding and gorging on candy. I see the 6th graders in Max's class and I remember the 6th graders in my class and the new 6th graders weigh -- as a class -- twice as much. There are many causes, Halloween is not a cause of the problem. But given the problem and the fact that no one seems to be effectively addressing it, lets skip the get-as-much-as-you-can-and-eat-as-much/fast-as-you-can part of this Fall tradition.

The boys's school, and I've learned other local schools, are against the holiday perhaps for religious reasons or something? Some schools can celebrate but can't call it "Halloween"? At the boys' charter school they couldn't even have costume parties? I don't understand the reasoning there. But personally I don't have a problem with any part of this holiday aside from both our children and the Mars/Hershey corporations wallets getting fatter.

All I know is I had a class full of sugar-crashed zombies for Readers Theater today.

Max had his Halloween piano recital last week, and it went very very well. The pressure is off, since this is the lowest-key of the years' 3+ recitals. Many kids perform in costume, so how serious can it be? Max had two pieces to do and knew them well. The only thing was at the last minute the teacher decided she needed another Halloweeny piece, so she changed Max's to a minor key. This had the effect of making it sound spooky and Halloweeny, and didn't phase Max.

So yeah, there's that. Piano is going well for all the boys.

Job hunt is still going. I have a 3rd interview tomorrow for a marketing job that doesn't pay as much as we'd like but still twice what Lux Graphics makes. This month will be the month we finally catch up from The Great Work Stoppage of Ott Seven, and that will feel good. I'm really not worried about Christmas this year. I don't think it's a coincidence that as our Christmasses have gotten smaller & simpler they've gotten better and better for all involved.

Tomorrow the boys are out of school. And "The Bee Movie" comes out! Maybe we'll check it out & report for y'all. I'd also like to get the boys' "school" portraits done before all of the colors are gone. They've already made it to the top of the "mountain" ranges here, and they've gotten more earthy than flourescent. Something about how it was a dry year, so we get less color? Or the colors don't last as long?

Nuttin' but love for ya!

'ASS what I'm chattin' about

2007-10-24T23:31:00.000-04:00

And there aren't even any REDS in that picture. HOOSH you should see the reds we got poppin up in this joint!

I watched a romantic comedy today called "Raising Helen". It was neither funny nor romantic. I DID however learn a line of a classic 80's tune I'd never caught before:

"When a problem comes along, you must whip it,
BEFORE THE CREAM STAYS OUT TOO LONG, you must whip it"

Who knew?

Update Job Hunt continues. I keep painting. Our scout camp trip was postponed by the first real weather we've had here in months, and now I'm having trouble rescheduling it before Thanksgiving. Readers Theater is going great, though our play about Archimedes running naked and yelling "EUREKA!" somehow lacked energy after our climactic performance of "The Legend of Lightning Larry". So now we're reading an excerpt from a very alliterative Vachel Linsey poem my brother hooked us up with.

Speaking of my Brotha From a Different Motha, please refer along any rich patrons of the arts you may know in Columbia, MO! He is working his tail off to start an alternative theater space there in the college town's downtown area.

And while you're hooking a brother up, think healthy healing thoughts for those people in SoCal who's stuff is all being incinerated. We've got family and friends there who have lost and may yet still lose their homes.

Hasta.

Je ne blog pas.

2007-10-06T21:36:00.000-04:00

Much catching up to do. You are behind, all 4 of you.

Readers Theater is about the most rewarding thing I've done in a long time. The more I put into that, the more those 5th/6th graders give me back. We've done two international folk tales, and we're now in the middle of a western spoof called The Legend of Lightning Larry. We're spending more time than usual on it because there is a performance night coming up, and this one really lends itself to performance. But we are ready for a break and I want to show them some movies with good examples of funny over-the-top spoofing and also of great narration (the main roles are the narrators. . . ). Any ideas? A lot of movies start off with great narration (Big Lebowski, Road Warrior, LOTR. . . ), but I'm looking for something a little more. I don't know what. Oh I also want to show them examples of character roles stealing scenes since many of the roles are small but have the opportunity to be hilarious. Anyone? Bueller?

Boy Scouts is just about as rewarding. I wish we had more boys, because when one of them doesn't show we're really up a tree. While I do appreciate the small size in this my first year of Scoutmastering -- it's easier for me to manage -- I also understand that a little more would be a lot merrier. There is a lot of fun to be had! The boys are fascinated with the concept of becoming men, and I'm happy to help them cross that bridge even though we're only at the very beginning of the bridge. They are hungry for whatever I've got to give, and the scouting program provides a wide array of values-oriented stuff and outdoorsy stuff. I'm learning the outdoorsy stuff right along with them, and that's fun. There isn't much time in this the first year -- they're supposed to hit the first THREE big milestones this year -- but I try to help them be as independent as possible. The plan is for the scouts to run the Troop themselves, with only guidance from the Scoutmaster. We are pretty much separate from the rest of the troop, and there are only 3 boys, and we're all new at it, so there are challenges there. What I've been doing is having them study up on and then teach each other the things they need to learn for their badges. At this age, that's a lot of hounding and harassing, but with only 3 boys (and their parents are on my side) I can manage that.

Max is particularly pumped about scouts right now. His cool uncle LR called us one afternoon and Max answered. In their chat Max told him he was trying to learn the 2-Half-Hitches and Taut Line Hitch knots. LR was thrilled to report that just that morning he went and adjusted the Taut Line Hitch he was using to train a tree in his yard! So they bonded as only fellow scouts can and Max thought that maybe there was a reason we play with ropes all the time. Then we went to an Eagle Court of Honor last week, and nothing sells the whole experience to a boy like that. All sorts of fancy-Dans came by to honor the two Eagle Scouts, and they got MAD SWAG including a big Ka Bar knife with their name engraved on it! Made ME wanna be an Eagle Scout.

Straight Job I'm officially in the hunt for what I call a Straight Job, or a W-2. While Lux has never done better and is contributing more than ever to the family coffers -- it's not enough. Despite paying all our bills AND $25K in debt last year, this year has been one rough doozy. As much consideration has been given to what my next career should look like -- it would seem a job-that-pays-as-much-as-possible is a little more pressing right now. It's been tough, reaching out and networking like I'm supposed to, with no industry-specific vision of what I'd like to do. My skills and experience apply to any industry almost, and I enjoy doing anything I'm good at. I've done/been good at management/leadership, marketing/branding, training/presenting, and public relations. I'm not ready to pick just one and sell myself that way. In talking to a few people so far, I might be able to sell myself as a manager/director/leader for hire. All companies suffer from The Peter Principle (a tendency to promote people to management, just beyond their level of optimum competency and job satisfaction), so there are a lot of unhappy, bad managers out there. I put at the top of my resume that I consider management to be a skill wholly separate from those of whom I manage, and people seem to be keying on that, so we'll see how that develops.

The rules regarding resumes have changed in the past 10 years (never needed one at Honda. . .) so I did have to completely rework my resume and that was a challenge. Mostly because I have enough experience in a broad range of areas that I could tailor the resume for any one of a variety of jobs. Which is good, when you know the job you're applying for. But just generally reworking the whole thing on principle? Shoosh.

Gramma Gaye continues to settle in. Today we called the State College post office and put her on the map, since not piece of mail has ever been delivered there since the house was built (original owner never got a mailbox, just used the nearby Pine Grove Mills post office). She bought a nice new mailbox, I installed it, and put her name and number all over it, but so far only outgoing mail service. Hopefully that's fixed? She got new glasses, so hopefully she can see the wild color show that Penn's Forest is putting on display right now. All of the dragons are unpacked, and if you know Gramma Gaye you know what an accomplishment that is.

Today Max spent the day with Gramma. His idea, no one elses. He's ridden over to her place a few times now and seems to enjoy it. I imagine he likes the independence, riding relatively far away by himself. I imagine he likes forming a relationship outside of the house and outside of school, getting to be a whole new version of himself. I imagine he finds Gramma very funny and down-to-earth. I imagine that Gramma gets to learn a little bit about why we are so head-over-heels in love with our Number One Son, or maybe at least why we try to be patient with him. I don't know and don't need to know just how it goes on Max & Gramma Saturdays, I just know that I'm grateful Gramma is here in PA for Max & Gramma Saturdays.

Since last Fall, when the move really started, it's been a lot of work, some sacrifices, and a lot of adjusting. I never really question it all. I know we belong here together, don't care to argue the point with anyone, and I look forward to the day this becomes Gramma's "home". But I sure like being reminded that we belong together :)

ACK! Halloween is coming. Max watched "The Mask of Zorro" with me and was impressed enough that he wants to be Zorro. Which is good, that's a pretty economical costume to put together. In trying to avoid the overpriced don't-last-the-day-and-night store-bought costumes, us grownups brainstormed Ben/Milo costumes last week over Wegmans potstickers. Gramma Gaye was always good at dressing me up, as a child, on a budget yet with great impact. We thought we had it figured out, we decided Ben and Milo should be Mormon Missionaries! How cute! And they adore the missionaries, especially the Samoan Rockstar missionary we've had for awhile now. Ben and Milo have not bought into this idea, however. They seem to be very attached to the "I want to be _________ for Halloween" game, and at dinner the other night we heard about 360 different things they want to be for Halloween. At the end of the night the front runners were Ketchup and Mustard. AK thinks she can swing this, so we encouraged them along that path. But Milo insists he will be orange. Mustard, but orange. Stay tuned. . .

Nando Speaking of Antonio Banderas, I took a couple of days last week and with AK's help made this little movie as a favor for a friend. His company is making a website where people can upload stump speeches and apply for the job of president (it's a recruiting software company). Anyway, each employee is required to submit a video! Since he's into making videos about as much as I am into recruiting software, he asked if I wouldn't do it. Not remembering how much time these projects take, I got right on it. I planned out two videos. One was a long behind-the-scenes Christopher Guest'esque mockumentary look at Minnesotan Thorvald Larson's presidential bid. It was called "The Winds of Change Are Chilly: Thorvald Larson, the Man Beneath The Hat". Oh, it would have been good. But circumstances conspired against the "Vote More For Thor" project, and I had to return the props/costumes I'd bought and spend the filming days painting for money instead. In retrospect, I think many of the jokes would have been lost on those who are not intimate with the upper midwest.

But we did move forward with the smaller, shorter "Nando For President" video. Nando is a character borne of both Antonio Banderas and an old John Paragon sketch character named Ramon Aztecas. Nando is one of my more persistant alter egos, though we don't see him so much now that I don't drink so much anymore. He's a bit of a flirt. Also, after editing footage of Nando for a day and a half -- I think Nando has more chins than anyone should ever have and I don't care if I ever see him again.

So check it. If they ever get the website up and running, I'll ask you to go there and actually vote for Nando because if Nando wins Nando gets $100 in recruiting software or something :)

Pets Emily continues to be the bestest dog that anyone ever has been licked and inappropriately sniffed by. One upside to our house being so cluttered and messy is that it's a much more appropriate place for a large lumbering dog to chase balls in. We don't mind her crashing into things and knocking things over when it's mostly already crashed & knocked-over already! CONSUMER ALERT: Petco tennis balls, the ones that you would think are made just for dogs and would last longer than real tennis balls? Are actually designed to be FLIMSIER than normal tennis balls. So you have to go buy more than you normally would. You know, until you figure it out and buy some real tennis balls as an experiment, and find out you and your poodle have been duped. Yeah.

She gets groomed Monday, thank heavens. She has a lot of surface area for stink to live on. AK, remind me why we don't ever bathe the mutt? Does she get dreadlocks or something with her funny hair?

Sissy and Bubba seem to be acclimating and making Grammas house their house. Both of them are consummate kittens and very accomplished tail-chasers and dust-stalkers. Sissy has a purr box louder than a Harley, and drops on her side for petting at the drop of a hat. Bubba is a little too cool to let on, but does appreciate a good rub behind the ear and a warm lap to chill on.

Photos I like to put photos up on a blog. I just went through my photo folders, and there just isn't much today that's new. I did find a CD of photos from 5 years ago when the twins were just born in Minnesota. Here is Little Miss McBlurkerling holding an infant BLUE WHALE. . .

The monster's name is Milo. And I want you to notice that Milo (who's genetic code seems to be nearly 100% Alaska. . . yes, the Alaska who told a doctor once, regarding the size of our offspring's crania, that their father came from The Land of The Big Head People. . . . ) has a head nearly equivalent in mass to that of his pretty 5 YEAR OLD friend

And here is B and I in the 8th grade. . .

B and I had a very special friendship in middle school, and we've managed to stay connected through the years. This photo is from the yearbook, of the whole yearbook staff, which B and I were on that year. We never did a darn doodly thing for the yearbook, and therefore I learned nothing about publishing or photography. What we did, every day for the whole schoolyear if I remember, is make posters advertising the yearbook for sale. I remember getting in a lot of trouble in that class, because B and I found each other to be the funniest humans on the face of the earth. It wasn't a matter of not laughing in class. It was a matter of holding your wee wee becaue you were laughing so hard for so long that you'd long since lost the ability to sit upright, were flailing helplessly for breath, and were sure you'd soon lose bladder control as well. Oh yeah. Nando we weren't.

Kittens and Kids

2007-09-22T14:10:00.000-04:00

Meet Sissy and Bubba. I'm very confident that this is Sissy. . .

I am also very confident that this is Both Bubba and Sissy. . .

I only have a moderate level of certainty however that this is Bubba. . .

I will be more careful next time, to be sure.

This is a kid, not a kitten. He is representin' tha PGM Playaz out front tha schizzool.

Not really. He's just being him. 'Swhat he does. But isn't he big? Jeez.

We Own This Town

2007-09-21T18:01:00.000-04:00

The ratio of Hults' to Not-Hults' in Pennsylvania seems to grow narrower by the day. Gramma was feeling she'd gotten to be on friendly terms with her new house, was a little lonely, and she'd gotten nowhere finding friendly braillers nearby -- so it was kitten time! AK had a plan all mapped out, and was just waiting for the go-ahead. So once given the go-ahead we went to our first stop: our vet/groomers. They are very connected in the leash-&-collar community and would understand Gramma's need for a young, healthy, oft-handled kitten which was already potty trained.

They had two.

A brother-sister set of gray striped tabbies had been left at the vet's main doctor's doorstep awhile ago and they'd been living there at the vet ever since. 12 weeks old. They were very friendly, very used to being handled, they had nearly all their shots already and they offered to clip them both for free. $65 in litter, box, canned food and toys later. . . . we've got two more Hults' in Pine Grove Mills! They are as-yet un-named as Gramma goes through the myriad of boy/girl and brother/sister names. There are LOTS of good ones, but I am partial to Frida and Diego :). They are spending their first day/night in Gramma's guest room so they can get used to the house slowly and use their litter box a few times before they are set free to roam. That's worked very well so far, all the kitty droppings have dropped where they belong.

My talk (nearly a week ago now) as you probably read on AK's blog, went very well. I was telling the missionaries next day that after staying up all night preparing the talk, I'd pitched the plans and winged it just before the zero hour. One of them put it well "There's the talk you plan to give, the talk you give, and the talk you wish you gave". Yup. But it seemed well received and certainly a little something different for the local Mormons. I spent Monday taking both missionaries down to Harrisburg for a "Transfer Meeting" where we dropped off one and took home a new one. It was quite an education, and while I'm not sure I agree with the philosophy behind it (missionary work), I'm 100% behind what it does for the young men personally. I don't know the whys, and I'm still figuring out the hows, but I definitely want my son to do what these men are doing.

I have a sort-of-job interview this next Monday, that will be interesting. I'm open to getting "back in the game" so long as it's on my terms, so I thought I'd put myself out there a little bit. I sent my resume in to a recruiter about a specific position that was asking for a lot of marketing/PR/sales background. I feel I'm pretty qualified for the position, but I get the idea I'm going in Monday so Mr. Recruiter can get my whole story and see what else I might also be qualified for. AK worked with him last Spring and he sounds like a straight up professional dude so I'm looking forward to it.

More later. Hopefully some kitty pix? They are cute, with lots of tiger stripes and ears the size of radar dishes. . .

My Conversion Story

2007-09-09T22:49:00.000-04:00

I don’t have a conversion story. The dog ate my conversion story. I had a conversion story, but my brother spilled his cereal milk on it and then there was this, um, category 5 tornado, and . . .

Not really.

See, in the Mormon church people give talks. Everybody does. Not so much with the preaching and the lectures, more with the sharing and the storytelling. I like that about it. Lots of the people who give talks are good at it, and even those that aren’t, I feel closer to them afterwards. As though we’d just had a short conversation and learned a little bit about each other. Sometimes they are not so good at speaking, or maybe they are but they are on a really academic scripture “kick” and get really excited about digging deep & finding symbolism and connections and *yawn*. . . . Even then, it’s no worse than the sweet but charisma-free Methodist minister in Elgin, MN. And I shouldn’t knock the Scripture Kickers, they at least did their homework. I haven’t even read the Book of Mormon.

This is why I was a little surprised to have a Bishop’s counselor call and ask me to talk next week. They’ve had a “Conversion Story/Where Are You From Spiritually Speaking” theme going since the wards reorganized. It helps us all to get to know each other, and personally it’s been great to hear about the paths that led other people where they are. Counselor (there are 2 counselors, they are like Vice Bishops but it’s not just a title. The Bishop’s job is really too big for just one or two men. It takes a village to raise a child, and it takes 3 men to Bishop a ward) . . . suggested that the nature of the church (any church or community, I pointed out. . . ) breeds a certain amount of “sameness”. And he thought my point of view, as a not-member from not-Utah, might provide some counterpoint and a sense of spiritual diversity. I agreed, and was as pleased as I was nervous about the talk.

Then he stammered that Bishop said, um, if I could just. . . .

. . . and I imagined our awesome, genuine and sweet and most decidedly 100% Mormon Bishop asking him to gently ask me not to curse or gyrate my pelvis or bite the heads off of any mammals, not that he thought I might do those things but he respectfully just doesn’t know how they DO things wherever I’m from.

But no. Worse. He wants me to mention Jesus Christ.

That one made me stammer. Counselor gave me every option to back out or postpone. I explained to him extensively my concerns, he gave thoughtful and helpful response (with more polite opportunities to say no). I told him it would be a challenge, but I was up to the challenge.

See, I am wholeheartedly down with Jesus. He was unquestionably the most influential human in human history. He was a humble teacher who hung out with the poor, the sick, and the people who needed him. He preached a hard line of compassion and sacrifice, and actually practiced it in his own life. Dude. Show me a man like that today and I’ll vote for him. But most Christian sects insist that God is aware of us on a personal level and that we can have relationships with Jesus Christ in this way or that way.

I don’t feel that. I might some day! I never thought I’d be able to say that God knows me enough to answer my prayers. But he did, that one time. So I’m open to feeling a relationship with Jesus Christ and maybe even talking to people about it (or not. I really feel this is all pretty private. I’d love to have the testimony but don’t know that it would have meaning for anyone else and I’d be just fine keeping it in my pocket and grinning about it instead of bearing witness all over the place. . . ).

(Yeah, private)

(So, you know, I’m talking to THE INTERNET about it)

So there’s the challenge. Who knows how it’ll play out. I’ve thought about it so much today that my brain hurts. I can’t just go up and tell ‘em all how funny/kooky they are, can I? You know, WITH ALL DUE RESPECT? Or how about if I used the time to teach them all The Electric Slide? Lecture on Rap’s renaissance in the 90s? OH you know what I need to do? I need to teach the piano lady some boogy-woogie riffs because there are no whiter, soul’less hymns than these. No offense. Just sayin. Nothin' but love for ya :).

Today was not the best Sunday, AK and I have been working too hard and the new routines of the school year are still, um, new. She slept wrong last night and gimped around today all seized up like she had palsy. And then there were the desperate whimpers of anquish every time she moved, poor lady. Sometimes I'm so aware of my need for a day of rest, that I waste my day of rest worrying that I'm not getting the necessary rest. We didn't get in the full range of Gramma Nesting Help that we'd hoped, but it was legitimately too hot and it's been just a few too many days of too hot here in Pine Grove Mills. Given that I'm alright with what was accomplished, even with the level of rest that was or wasn't rested.

Next week we'll settle into our routines a little more. Readers Theater will start to have momentum. We'll actually do more real actual Boy Scouty things in Boy Scouts. I'll get a few more days worth of clients taken care of. And Next Sunday will be better.

Especially the part AFTER I talk to the Mormons on Sunday as though I've got something meaningful for them to hear.

As Dy says, kiss those babies!

There is a Special Level of Hell for Bloggers Like Me

2007-09-08T22:13:00.000-04:00

Yup. SO going to hell here. But it's with all due respect. And AK will deny it to St. Peter but she giggled too.

Going to Mormon For Beginners class (Nephi for Neophytes? Priesthood Preschool?) a few weeks ago, they had a large portrait of Jesus at the front of the room. Really, it was large. So large that you can't help but stare at it for a minute. As I stared, I commented that it must be hard to have to paint Jesus in today's age of media, because you have to somehow paint him in a way that he does NOT resemble some actor, politician or celebrity. This is the picture we were looking at:

David Hasselhoff, no? Am I right? I'll never watch Knight Rider the same way again. And not just because I'm never watching Knight Rider again. Concerned about lightning bolts of righteous and eternal damnation, I let the issue lie at that time.

But then Missionaries came to visit, and left pamphlets, because no one finds their own spiritual path without pamphlets. And I'll be darned if they didn't have more portraits of Jesus on them! Here is a young Robert Deniro . . .

And here we have. . . .

. . . Woody Harrelson.

I Heard somewhere that we're judged by the company we keep. It might be baloney. Or even Hooey. Even so, I concluded in a college paper in an Ethics class that while we do have a complex innate ethical system, we've been completely unsuccessful at defining/understanding it, so we should just seek out the enlightened people, hang around with them, and hope that some enlightenment rubs off on us. I have done so, and I think my friends would agree. Few of my friends would argue that I have decidedly exquisite taste in friends. Yes I count many enlightened individuals in my Franklin Planner. They're mixed in there with a lot of Minnesota Honda Dealers. If you're wondering what the enlightenment factor of your posse is, you might want to use the following as a guideline.

I know I'm hangin' with the hip, consorting with the cultivated and working with the wise because. . . .
-They name their dogs after Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy characters
-They have Opus the Penguin tattoos
-They quote Buckaroo Banzai and Joe vs. The Volcano
-They have "dog voices". And use them. At every opportunity.
-They have machine shops in their basements and fabricate for you anything you could imagine for less than 57 cents and will then recite the story of how they did so beyond their graves.
-They wear capes.
-They ride motorcycles and go as fast as the motorcycle can possibly go -- but only on very small motorcycles that don't go very fast.
-They'd rather watch Muppet Show episodes from 25 years ago than anything on TV today.

There are more reasons, as a matter of fact I'm reminded almost daily of my friends' and associates enlightenment. So much enlightenment has rubbed off on me, I think I need to take a shower. How do you know your society is spirtually savvy?

Kindergarten Shoes

2007-09-05T11:31:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was Ben and Milo's first day of Kindergarten, and they were beside themselves with excitement. All morning we were notified that THESE were their KINDERGARTEN SHOES.
Here are the big boys going to school. . .

That's Milo on top, I caught him in a rare mouth-closed-not-lecturing-someone moment. Ben is the one with the Flock of Seagulls hairdo.

And otherwise, I just can't tell you what a charming and funny day yesterday was. No. Really. I can't tell you. It was one of those days where AK and I say ALL DAY "oh my god I so have to blog this". But it was also my first day of teaching Readers Theater to 5th/6th graders, my second day as a Real Serious Knows-What-He's-Doing Boy Scout Leader Man, and by bed time I'd wrestled with the days photos too much to have any blogging energy left. So this is what you get :/.

More later? Share your first-day-of-school funnies!

Gramma Gaye Update: Gramma is getting more and more settled every day. Most rooms have the proper furniture in them, and most of it is in the place it will live for awhile. Many mountainous mounds of (thinking, thinking of a word for "boxes" that starts with "m". . . . no) boxes. She is very concerned that her house is just way too small. But we reassure her that the stuff in the boxes will all GO places and that will make the box spaces empty open spaces. Oh, and having spent her whole life in California she keeps forgetting that she has a BASEMENT the size of her entire house. Dry, clean ginormous storage space for anything she doesn't want up in her living space :). Every day things get a little more normal-feeling I imagine, though we give the girl a full year before this starts to feel like home. Every day her receipts are reminding her of what a good idea it was to move here, as she spends noticeably less on just about everything she has to buy. $30 tanks of gas, $50 grocery trips, etc. . . .I can't wait for the moving expenses to cease, so she can see how much she saves on an average month!

SOLD to the Lady in Purple . . . .

2007-08-22T13:54:00.000-04:00

Yup, Hults' are taking over this little town. Hults Grove Mills, they'll soon be calling it. Gramma continues to settle in, despite being technically homeless until the 28th. AK, she and Ben just got home from the Amish Market/Grocery Auction where great deals were had on AK's bushels of beans, ears of fresh sweetcorn, and Gramma's plants for the small raised bed you see in her front yard.

Plans are being made for the big moving day, volunteers are hopping onboard to help. Gramma is thinking of putting green decorative shutters on the sides of those windows. And just what flavor of street-side mailbox she'll get is the subject of much deliberation & consideration.

Stay tuned. . .

Waffling Over Used Skis and Cookie Shooters

2007-08-18T11:49:00.000-04:00

Gwamma likes yard sales. I'm sure they have yard sales in CA, but maybe she never had the need. And as a very scholarly and spendtrift friend of mine once observed, only about half of the yard sales are worth attending. This is because poor people selling their stuff need the money, rich people selling their stuff need to get rid of it. One type of yard sale has higher quality and lower prices than the other. For whatever reasons, Gramma and AK came home this morning from their tour of the yard sales gleeful as kids at Christmas time.

Legitimately, Gwamma needs a dinette set. Her old one was old, rickety, uncomfortable and smoke-stained so I pronounced it dead when we cleaned her place out last Spring. Of the new pieces of furniture/appliances she'll need, the dinette set is the most expensive (although we are giving her one of our fridges, and she's buying the seller's old washer/dryer cheap for the time being. . . ). Furniture stores are right up there with used car lots when it comes to sleazy sales people and profit margins so big they should be illegal -- so it didn't take long for AK and Gwamma to decide Estate Sales would be the place to shop for a dinette set. Estate Sales are a cross between Yard Sales and Estate Auctions. Quality furniture is a little harder to find than at an auction, but if you DO find a "find" chances are much better you'll get it for a deal than at an auction where everyone else has also found your find. In any case, this is no doubt the excuse they'll cling to: "we were looking for the dinette set!" -- if they come home the next few Saturdays as loaded-down as they did today.

I applaud them on the as-new window AC unit they got for $20.00. And they did get Gwamma's home seller (breaking every rule in the realtor's book, just casually dropping by the seller's house becuase AK thinks the seller is THE CUTEST thing in the world and just HAD to introduce him to Gwamma. . ) to say he'll probably leave her his dinette set, so that will save a lot of money and allow for a less-frenzied Dinette Set Search. And I am loathe to criticize the canning jars because as YICKMOCIOUS as it is to see them muckied up with what was surely at one time SOMEONE ELSES FOOD -- I'm awfully partial to what AK does with the canning jars and would hate to be barred from the wall of canned yummies in our living room.

And. I'm pretty sure the rest of what unendingly poured out of the car (how did all that FIT IN A PT CRUISER??? Where the PT stands for "PRETTY TINY"???) falls into what I'd call The Crap Category. Door mirrors, kitch display cases, used skis, alarm clocks, funny-shaped & pretty-colored cooking pots, GD canning jars. Baskets of all shapes & sizes (for, um, Easter?). Many large yard leaf bags full of stuff I don't even know about. Used hankerchiefs, used scout mess kit. And right before I decided it was too much for me to take, right before I retreated into The Mancave, in the kitchen I swear I saw "The Amazing Cookie Shooter! As Seen On TV!!!"

Now let me say: the prices seemed to be right, it doesn't sound like anyone paid much more than a buck for any one thing (though AK may have briefed Gwamma on the need to lie to me about the prices. . . .). This is important, as anyone who's passed 3 yard sales has seen 6 sets of used skis for sale and know you should never EVER pay more than 25 cents for a set of used skis. And I can see where some of the items may, at some time, perhaps once or twice in our lifetimes, be handy. And they did bring home baked goodies for us men (we did protect the house from, um, terrorists while they were gone. . . ). And I very well may get kicked by Gwamma, and otherwise denied freaky-love-down-by-the-fire by AK because I told the whole internet about how they brought home crap. But I am rightfully concerned about setting a precedent here. If I admit that yes they found stuff that a)we needed and b)was in great shape and was c)at yard-sale prices? They'll be out every Friday and Saturday, driving ever-farther to get the deals, trading in the Pretty Tiny Cruiser for a 26-Foot Pense truck so they can buy more, and I'll be stuck at home HOLDING OUR OWN YARD SALES TO GET RID OF ALL THE STUFF THEY BOUGHT AT THE YARD SALES!

This is my concern. Ya' feelin me?

I'm going to sneak upstairs & see if any of those baked goods are left. . . .

Tune in later for photos of last nights dinner which was almost entirely home-grown, and photos of Gwamma's "SOLD" sign!

Home again home again, jiggity jig.

2007-08-15T21:10:00.000-04:00

. . . . something something something about a little fat pig.

That's what my Dad used to say when we arrived home. This is me not knowing what it means.

The drive from Des Moines to Chicago was thankfully short, and I had a lovely evening with The MacMac Family. Mrs. MacMac took pity on my truckstopped-up guts and made us the most tasty hearty homecooked meal. Mr. MacMac introduced me to his neighbor, who took us for a trip back in time in one of these. . .

Then there was Little MacMac who is not nearly as little as he was just last Summer and had a tremendously less-little voice and struck fear into the pit of my soul as he forced me to realize that this too was very likely to happen to my very own Number One Son.

The last day's drive was icky. Should have been just 12 hours, but was closer to 16 due to a truck blowing up right at the exit I was supposed to use to get off of the seemingly interminable I80. Only 8 miles from my exit, the one I'd been counting down to all day, I saw this. . .

and this. . . .

But my homecoming was so worth the long day's drive. After unhooking the PT Cruiser in the elementary school parking lot at the bottom of the hill, I drove it home to find a big-fat-little-boy-made POSTER on my garage door! Then coming in the door I got huge gratuitous hugs and loves from ALL the Hults boys. In between, and lingering long after, was the lady who missed me the most: Emily. AK gave smooches too. Hers were less sloppy and she smelled considerably better, but you just can't beat the enthusiasm of a standard poodle who's been missing her big, brain-scratching alpha male.

Monday found me and four members in good standing of The Mormon Mafia emptying the covered wagon into a storage facility. The whole affair took less than an hour. So I had NO excuse for driving away from the storage facility WITH THE DOOR WIDE OPEN SO AS TO SHARE ALL OF GRAMMAS BELONGINGS WITH ALL OF THE STORAGE PLACE'S FINE CLIENTS. They called the next day and we fixed it. And that reminded me that I'd left the keys for the storage lock and the trailer lock ON THE KEY RING WHICH WAS NOW SAFELY IN THE HANDS OF THE PENSKE TRUCK PEOPLE. Fixed that, and was happy to see many other truck keys with people's lock keys still on them. It would seem I was still a little shmoopy from the trip.

Gramma has been dealing with all the exciting/frustrating parts of moving, with mostly AK's help. I've been trying to get back to work and to get caught up. I've been trying to get back into a groove. As assurance that all is nearly back to normal, here is Max in his 25 cent Nittany Lions hat from this morning's garage sale down the street. . .

I told him he looked like Gilligan and showed him a picture of Gilligan. He promptly got on a red shirt and this particularly gilliganny expression for me.

One Hundred Seven Degrees in Nebraska

2007-08-10T20:18:00.000-04:00

Makes you wish you were me, huh? Well, just add 107 degrees to your long list of reasons not to visit Nebraska.

After a pre-dawn smack-down with the snooze button, The PA Train drove East into an awesome sunrise. Awesome. It was all downhill from there.

One lowlight was my time-consuming effort to have a sanitary bowel movement in a non-toxic environment in the late morning hours. Think of all the truckers on Interstate 80. Now think of each of them drinking a Refillable Bladder Buster Big Gulp of coffee, the equivalent of 421 cups of fresh-brewed columbian diuretic/laxative. There aren't enough toilets in the northern hemisphere for this daily teamster bum-rush. Now imagine a large, bald-but-surprisingly attractive man, driving from truck stop to truck stop with intensely clenched buttocks and cursing with increasing volume at every stop. Ultimately I gave up on finding places that I could park, and just started walking (quickly, in full clench) from fast food place to gas station to whatever was adjacent to the truckstop. Sheesh. I just looked it up and Mapquest says todays trip should take 8.5 hours, I guess I shouldn't be surprised it took me about 12.

Lowlight two was an indirect result of my mid-morning poopventures. Because I'd wasted so much time NOT driving in the planned direction, I chose to eat my lunch wherever I could get gas. I considered myself fortunate to find a truckstop with a Wendys in it, and didn't even cringe as I paid 26.94 for a double-burger and large diet coke. Well, that was the slippiest, slidiest, shiny-with-grease Wendys double I've ever seen. It came back to haunt me as I passed through Omaha. Every mile of Omaha's freeway is constructed with concrete plates that are held together with joists like a bridge. While any modern car's suspension will gobble this up, my covered wagon's buckboard shot me into the cab's ceiling about 90 times a minute. This is not unusual, it happens on several different road surfaces. But Today it had the effect of darn near sending that Wendys Double onto the dashboard.

Which brings me here to Des Moines, where I will camp until tomorrow's short drive to Chicago. Mapquest says it's a 5 hour drive. It will probably take me 20 hours at this rate. I'll get up at 2am for an early afternoon ETA and hope for the best.

I didn't take any photos today, because getting out of the truck's air-conditioned cab was tantamount to taking a stroll on the surface of the sun. I would have been instantly incinerated. So here is another Sparksian Feral Equine. . .

Opewation Gwamma Twansplant

2007-08-09T21:34:00.000-04:00

Where were we? Ah. Well, 2 weeks ago Gwamma Gaye sold her house. One of the seller's contingencies was that Gwamma Gaye get all her gwamma things out by last Tuesday. So we've kicked into Moving Mode, and for the first time in a long time I've actually been glad that AK and I have done so much moving! We're good at it, almost. Not much time for bloggage, so I'm actually about half-way across the country right now with all of Gwamma Gaye's gwamma things. Behold, The PA Train. . .

Yes, that's the same cantankerous and slow 26' truck that I wrangled across the country almost 3 years ago. This one is not packed so tightly, and it's only towing a small car instead of a small truck which was itself packed with 3 small motorcycles. This trip is a little more hilly, however, having Sierras & Rockys & all sorts of speed bumps in the way to slow me down. And slow it has been, I'm wrapping up my 3rd day on the road and I'm only in Cheyenne, WY. But I get ahead of myself. . .

MONDAY had Cousin Rob, Uncle Bob and I making very fast work of loading the truck. Nary a Mormon showed, I must be falling out of favor with The Mormon Mafia. Then Mom & I wrapped up the last few errands and signed her closing papers before checking in to a Martinez hotel. Not much sleep for either of us, too tired & wigged about the coming travel perhaps.

TUESDAY started early with a delightfully traffic-free trip to the airport, where Gwamma Gaye was postmarked for Pennsylvania and shooed into the 4-mile-long security line. Then a leisurely get-to-know-the-truck-again drive up the Sierras to vist longtime college friends in Sparks. Kristen and I sampled the local faire (Black Rock Pizza = So Good You Know After One Bite It's Not a Chain) and I got to know her staggeringly cute 3 year old Rhys while we caught up. K had Mommy Things to do, so I seized the moment (and the PT Cruiser) and did some exploring in and around Sparks. K's hubby/college friend Rob does both Geocaching and Road Biking so he hooked me up with some interesting places to explore. I found the following fauna. . .

About 30 wild horses hiding in the hills. This is a colt & it's mom, one clearly a little more concerned about me than the other.

The quail is California's state bird, but it would appear they all cashed in on the real estate boom a few years ago and bought large houses in Sparks. This is one of about 3400 that I saw during my short excursion. I hope he's not thinking about dumping. . .

I have no idea why this Llama was in among the sheep. He seems to have no idea why I'm visiting his Sheepdom. But he looked like a speckled, smelly king there surrounded by his sheepish subjects so I had to take his picture.

I spent the rest of the evening with S and her husband J and their very charming and GQ-handsome boys N and M. That was pleasant beyond words. The whole day made me all the more committed to once again getting on a bike and riding all over. These are friends worth staying in face-to-face touch with (also had awesome visit with college friends J & M, J and I having been each others best men, but that was before Monday so. . . . ). And while motorcycles are good for many many things, I'm pretty sure that in my life they are meant for keeping me close with all my great friends who don't live in PA.

WEDNESDAY found me driving the covered wagon. . . er. . . truck to Park City, UT and actually about 20 miles south since every hotel room anywhere around Salt Lake City was booked. Breathtaking scenery just east of SLC, but I was too tired to take it all in. I didn't stop in SLC at all. I'll have to stop at Cheap Charlie's LDS-For-Less on my next trip, they're advertising 4 Quads for the price of 3, with a FREE EFFEMINATE QUILTED BOOK-PURSE!

TODAY was a pleasant, short day of driving. The scenery was stunning, albeit jumping around a lot. It's a jumpy country when viewed from a buckboard (moving truck has no suspension, my spine absorbs a good deal of the road's irregularities. . . . )

QUOTABLE QUOTES:
"Dark Mauve"
-Rhys' response to the question "Who's the bad guy in Star Wars with a red double-light-saber?"

"Daddy, I don't want you to kiss me anymore"
"Ok."
*pause*
"But you can phone kiss me"
-Milo, on the phone with me

"Winnewhuppahunh?"
-Max, after I told him I was passing through Winnemucca, NV. They boys are moving a little yellow moving-van-shaped pin across the country as I go :).

NOTABLE MONDEGREENS (misunderstood song lyrics)
"There's a bathroom on the right. . . ."
Gwamma Gaye herself shared this one with me, from Creedence Clearwater Revival's Bad Moon Rising

"Oats in the man, where 'ya gonna run? Oats in the man, where 'ya gonna run? All along that day. . . "
From The Seekers version of the folk song "Sinner Man". I'm on a folk kick, and listening to this reminds me that for most of my childhood I wondered why the man had oats in him.

NOTABLE LESSONS LEARNED
#1 The Truckstop chains Flying J, Travel America, and Pilot are -- if not owned & operated by Satan himself -- then surely are overseen by senior members on The Satanic Board of Directors. I have frequented these establishments for the past few days because they are the only places I can get cheap diesel from a wide-mouth hose (quickly) AND have room to turn my aircraft carrier around to get back on the street. There I am surrounded by the very cogs in the capitalist machine: men working hard to make their way. These are people who put in hours above & beyond to earn their money and somehow manage to be models of road manners at the same time. They spend a day or two draining the 150 gallons their trucks will hold, only stopping and getting out for a few minutes of humanity in these truckstops. And how are they thanked for their $500.00 gas purchases? With filthy facilities, awful food and criminally high prices. I'm a little bitter about the food because a)it used to be my very favorite kind of food and b)now that I really can't eat it anymore it ticks me off that I have to make ANOTHER stop if I want food with my gas. So forget the style of food they serve, surely it's what the customer wants, but how about fresh? Cleanly prepared? Generous portions? Nope. And I'm sorry, $2.00 is too much for a warm 20 oz pop. Not even the airports do you like that, mostly. Any of the items they sell, if it can be had elsewhere, can be had for substantially less. It stings at the airport, or at the movies, and I'm used to that. I just don't like seeing these guys getting stung because I know how hard it is to make a living their way. Hmm. Although, you can't shop at Target or anywhere else really in your pajama pants, so maybe there is some value there.

#2 Use Penske, not U-Haul. AK did the research 3 years ago and read all the horror stories about people's U-Haul experiences. I heard just enough of them to gladly pay whatever Penske was asking. And on Monday I didn't think twice when Sparky at the Penske Rent Place told us more scary/funny U-Hault stories. But moving is hard. In the middle of all that hard stuff, other hard things happen. The very hardest of hard things, I imagine, would be having a bad rental truck experience. On this trip I've seen 2 U-Haul vehicles broken down on the side of I80, one a large truck (yes, it did have a lower deck than mine. But that didn't keep it running. . . . ) and the other a trailer that appeared to have a broken axle. I also saw a medium sized but newer U-Haul today spewing gobs of deathly black smoke from it's exhaust. This was not your usual flooring-it-in-a-diesel smoke, this was I-can't-see-the-road and somebody-call-the-EPA smoke. Yes, the ride is rough in The PA Train. But I have no doubt that the Train will keep going.

#3 Television is Eeeeee. Vil. Blame it on the reality shows that are ubiquitous now. There is no end to the sappy sensationalism in every corner of TV programming. There must not be enough drama or suspense in fiction anymore, because on every channel on every show they are trying to milk some drama or suspense out of "reality". And it's pathetic. Remember the advertisiments MOCKING the sensationalism? "SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY!!! Loud trucks, big noise, dirt in your beer, women in tight shirts!!!! ONLY THIS SUNDAY!!! MMMMMMMMONSTER TRUCKS at The Cow Palace!!!!" I watched a Discovery Channel show about moving big sharks from Taiwan to Atlanta last night, and it made the old monster truck commercials look like C-Span. At every turn we were told how LIFE THREATENING this was and how DANGEROUS that was and how THE SHARKS. . . COULD. . . DIE!!!!! Sheesh. I did see a good show called "How They Make That" or something. They peacefully showed you all the things you wondered about, letting the subject matter be interesting on it's own. Thank you for showing me the big machine that grooves and stains and laminates wood flooring. Thank you for letting me see the grooving thingy cutting the wood really fast, that was interesting. Thank you for not yelling at me about how "IF one of these helpless workers so much as SLIPPED and stuck his WHOLE HEAD in the machine he'd be *pause* paralyzed for the rest of his life. Never again able to run with his chocolate lab Splootchypoo, never able to do ANYTHING that requires a head. . . .

#4 Wyoming in the Summer is beautiful. I thoroughly enjoyed the sights today, and right now I'm watching the most breathtaking lightning storm. Thank you for the reservations, AK! I'm on the 5th floor, I can see for miles and it's like having a front row seat at God's own rock concert. It feels like a gift.

Now is time for logging off. I've caught up now, so tomorrow I leave early. The plan is to do an insanely long and miserable day of driving across Nebraska and hopefully some of Iowa. This will leave me time for more visits on Saturday. And, if I can make it longer and miserabler than the drive from Chicago to home, then that last day (driving from Chicago to home) will seem less sucky. Will suck less. Will exude less suckitude. Will be relatively suck free. . . . whatever.

YOU KNOW that can't nobody stop the PA Train. . . .

Is this irony?

2007-08-02T10:24:00.000-04:00

There is a Flash animated advertisement for Honda motorcycles that you can see

HERE

. . . though you may have to refresh a few times to get the ad to show. It starts showing a bleak, dreary & oppressive office environment, then it says "roll over to FREE YOURSELF". When you roll your pointer over the ad, the office image cracks like glass (a relatively cheezy effect) and turns into an open landscape, a road into the horizon, and a big red Honda cruiser motorcycle.

The bleak, dreary & oppressive office environment? It's a photo of the Honda headquarters.

Capturing the essence of Benandmilotude

2007-07-27T18:03:00.000-04:00

Voila! Bon Anniversaire! Beaucoup images!

2007-07-22T16:04:00.000-04:00

Technically, in French, I think that's "Happy Birthday". But AK woke me up this morning, the morning of our 12th anniversary, singing a Flinstones song that repeats "Happy Anniversary" about -- oh -- 12 times, coincidentally. That got me singing "Happy Birthday" but substituting "Bon Anniversaire" for Happy Birthday because that's what Madame Larzul (sounds like a character from Ghostbusters, yes?), in the 12th grade, taught me that French people do. Right after they smoke, drink, are rude and surrender, THEN that's what they do. If it's your birthday of course. *blink* So yeah, today was our 12th wedding anniversary.

We started by having a very late, clumsy start to our Sunday. We KNOW that it's best for all concerned -- including the poor speakers we interrupt by filing into Sacrament Meeting late -- if we arrange all our church clothes Saturday night. Yet we persist in tempting fate and just going straight to bed at bed time on Saturdays. This leads to Sundays like todays, when we both teeter the whole morning between:

"All RIGHT lets get this show on the road! Lets get dressed! Lets go to church! Ben and Milo, that's a bold fashion statement, but you've got to take off the pajama pants THEN put on the church pants! Max chip the fuzz off of your teeth, that's the 11th commandment you know: "Thou shalt take a flamethrower to thine plaquish bicuspids before thou offendest thy fellow churchgoers"

. . . . .and. . . .

"It doesn't matter, we're going to miss half of Sacrament Meeting anyway, then probably just leave, what's the point? Just sitting here fretting has, like, totally taken 5 more minutes. So now we're even later. We'll probably spend the whole day wishing we'd gone, but now, just saying that, were ANOTHER 3 mintues late! So now it's WAY too late, why are we even still considering going, as if it's still an option. . . . "

We ended up opting for going-but-going-late. Which was the right choice. Then we had to decide between flaking on Gospel Principles (or Gospel Doctrine or Gospel Fundamentals or Gospel Foundations or whatever they want to call it that day) and getting an early start on our Anniversary Picnic. This was tough, because the class (think "Mormon For Beginners", AK's not a beginner, but she goes because it's more her speed than the more academic classes and she gets to play the role of wise old Mormon to all of us Grasshoppers) is taught by a nice couple we like (theater people) who are new to our ward since the reorganization. So we flaked, but apologized to Nice Couple for said flakage.

Before moving from church to our picnic adventures, just a note on the PBS Mormons documentary. It's available for free somewhere on http://www.pbs.org/, so I watched it online last week. It did give me some new perspectives, but mostly it reminded me how much there IS to the LDS church that really never ever ever even begins to come up in my experience of the church on Sundays. Nope. I hardly ever hear the name "Joseph Smith" or the term "polygamy". Yet, that's what a good 2/3rds of the show was about. Which is fine, that's all important. But since it's such a new church, and really just coming out of cult status and into legitimate religion status, every skeleton in the closet is very well documented. If people's experience of the church was like the PBS show depicted, it would not be the fastest growing religion in the US. But it was an even-handed treatment of the church's history. Some of the Mormon stuff IS downright kooky, I just have to remind myself that it's no kookier than any other religion's checkered past. It gets scrutinized much more because, as someone on the show pointed out, it doesn't have the benefit of a long history to soften the images and the stories. This church has no patina, little room for interpretation of the history because it only just happened about 100-200 years ago. It happened how it happened, right or wrong, gotta deal (often apologize) and move on. All the more reason to keep my religion to myself, really. I can't defend a bearded kook's plural marraiges any more than a modern Roman Catholic can defend The Inquisition.

ANYway.

So we came home & got into play clothes, then split up so that a)I could take the twins' bikes in the little truck and b)AK in big truck didn't have to deal with a psychotic poodle while driving Firehose #1, Firehose #2 and Firehose #3 to the store for drinks & treats. We met at Tupac Park, State College's homage to the West Coast rap martyr, and had a little anniversary picnic. AK got me a card with a wonderfully appropriate image of a fat old bulldog serenading a sprawled-out cat on a piano. I got her an e-card that had kissyface little cartoon people making hilarious squeaky noises. Romance on a budget! Becuase WHEN THE HELL did greeting cards start costing FOUR DOLLARS??? After the pics were all nic'ed, we walked over to the Community Garden so AK could show me the trials & tribulations of our vegetables. Cool. The boys kept Emily company, since she's not allowed in the garden. . .

Then we ventured on to the Dog Park, so Emily could chase herself into a canine cardiac arrest. When we arrived there was a young couple with 2 Doberman Pit Boxer Bull Mastiff Rottweilers which they obviously couldn't control. There was also a nice older lady with a nice older dog, and between the 3 of us mature responsible dog owners we managed to make the young couple feel uncomfortable about the fact that whenever they took their full weight away from their dogs' flesh-mangling choker collar, their dogs tried to eat each other. That left us, Emily, Oscar and Oscar's owner. Emily did this. . .

That was followed by this. . .

. . . which degenerated into this. . .

All the while Oscar observed with the wisdom of his years. He offered:

You Go, girl.

Once it was clear that Emily would collapse from lack of oxygen long before she let common sense tell her to STOP CHASING THE BALL, we retreated back to Tupac Park. Ben and Milo set to lecturing and loving-up every other citizen in the park regardless of their age or their obvious preoccupation with something that was NOT named Ben or Milo. Milo latched on to a young man named, and tell me if this is a first for you or not: Sherlock. Here, a man the size of a house has shoehorned himself into "The Clubhouse" in order to teach Milo and Sherlock how to play cards. . .

Tonight on Fox,The World Series of Poker: Kindergarten Edition

Here we see Milo Hults and his definitive poker face, giving nary a hint as to what he's holding. Young Sherlock is either troubled by the hand he's been dealt, he's showing a convincing bluff, or he's legitimately concered that he can't hold his wee-wee until the next commercial break.

AK knitted while Max and I played frisbee. I taught the Pack 40 Webelos how to play Ultimate Frisbee last week (I am so uncool, I had to look up the rules on the internet) and it actually managed to hold their wee MTV attention spans and keep their PlayCube XboxStation Butts active for about 20 minutes straight! Max has done it enough he's getting mediocre at it, so I try to keep the frisbee handy in the truck so we can simulate an active lifestyle at least once a month

Emily made it very clear that she was very near death, dealing as best she could with the increased gravity that followed her around since the dog park and dragged her purebred red apricot pedigree'd butt down to the ground everytime she passed over shady grass. Here she is using her freak mutant 12-foot tongue to try and cool herself off. . .

I'm serious. It's cropped off in the photo, but her tongue goes from there to Iowa. It's the only organ, from any species, that's visible from space.

When AK wasn't knitting, she was taking pictures with my camera. She really liked the clickety clickety noise it made when she held down the button :). So she managed to fill up my 29 GoogoNanoUltraByte memory card pretty quickly. Here Max is using his Sixth Sense and whispering . . .

I see frisbee people.

Men Don't Cry

2007-07-15T11:59:00.000-04:00

Bullshit.

I will, as my Motocross buddies used to say, "hang it out" here (riding wildly on the edge of control requires great risk and also great commitment, we'd say he's "hanging his ass out" where it's likely to get cut off, run over, injured) . . . .and say that the title of this blog is one of the most vicious lies to be propagated by our consumer culture. We're told to be quiet, don't stand out, follow & don't lead. These are some of the ways we can get the good job & the security & the safety. These are the ways we can be safe from the awful spectre of, um, not having status and a new car and a nice house and a big screen TV and an iPodBerry. Fitting in requires acting like the other sheep, doing your job and only your job, doing nothing to bring undue attention to yourself.

Living this life gains us the security I've ridiculed but also gains the legitimate treasures of a 401k, health insurance (losing it's legitimate value by the day) and steady pay. It does not seem to allow, however, for a man experiencing a full range of emotion. It certainly does not allow for expression of emotion even slightly outside of excitment, laughter, or the Real American Man's substitute for all other emotions: the stiff upper lip.

Well f' that. There are multitudinatious pros and cons for me with the LDS church. I discover more on both sides the more I look into it, the more I "investigate" they call it. But one of THE primary pros for me is that these are strong men. The men in this church, generally speaking, are men that I both respect and relate to. These are tired, struggling men who -- like me -- may or may not know what career they are supposed to have or where they belong in so many arenas of life. But these men know that their families are the highest of priorities, and they know that they pass the vital wisdom of life onto their children not by speaking or scolding but by doing and living the lessons in their own life. Every Sunday they model for all of our children the behavior of complete, whole men.

Perhaps not whole in that their careers are together and on-track, perhaps not whole in that they have robust portfolios that will ensure means & comfort for them & their children's future. In my case, if someone asked me "Who are you, Chris? What are you really all about?" I am less prepared to answer that than I EVER have been so you could barely call me whole or complete could you? But I live a whole and complete emotional life. I experience and express the full range of human emotion. I allow myself to be touched and moved and enraged and concerned and proud and sad and ecstatic. My sons see that, and they see it in the other men every Sunday, so they have no reason to doubt that crying is what men do. My sons learn that there are appropriate times to express every emotion they feel. They are not learning, as so many of our "heros" today are teaching, that most emotions are simply inappropriate for a man.

My Dog Loves Me. This I know.

2007-07-10T22:08:00.000-04:00

Drooly sneakers tell me so.

Organic. Next best place to bury your face, you know, if the crotch is otherwise occupied or somehow out of reach or busy painting RC cars.

The Pennsylvanian Lawn Koala

2007-07-04T18:27:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine is designing for me the rest of my totem tattoo, so it includes the rest of the animals in my totem. I wonder lately if I shouldn't include the groundhog, perennial symbol of the State of Pennsylvania. As I see them doing their groundhoggy things in the open fields across the road from the golf course (where I'm sure they've been evicted from), I feel a certain affinity with them. Not the hundreds of run-over dead ones, just the live ones, which AK describes as peaceful ground-koalas. I couldn't find a photo representative of our State College variety. They look like this one, but darker and more well-fed.

It is a wonderful 4th of July today. Orders are rolling in, the fridge is stocked, I have an auction closing for a record amount this evening and I've managed to paint another one for Ebay just in time to list when this one closes. AK has steady-but-not-panic-inspiring amounts of work. Max is in CA with grandparents, probably at an A's game followed by stunning fireworks. Which is great for him, but we miss him after only a couple of days. AK finished todays work in time to take us to the store for some sparklers & the makings of homemade wings & cobbler. Which I am VERY excited about right now. . . .

AK The Accuweather Addict assures me that this will be a very wet, thundery and lightningy 4th of July evening. So we have skipped the usual Penn State fireworks display, even the church potluck we thought about attending. I feel the 5-year-olds in the house will be as excited by their very own sparklers as they would have been by anything that required expensive parking, hiking with lawnchairs or buying lots of overpriced food from vendors.

We had a rockin visit with Cousin A and his family in Philly, where Ben and Milo got to hang out with 15-year old identical twin boys! Fine food and great company, accompanied by Daddy's near constant state of panic that his own little Smilo and Bazoobidge might some day also become pubescent teens. I'm all about the denial right now. Denial good. Denial friend.

Happy 4th to you and yours!

Ratatouille

2007-06-29T21:17:00.000-04:00

Oh my gizzle, I'm breathless. Ever since The Incredibles, I've been greatful to the heavens that John Lasseter invited Brad Bird to come in and tell his own story his own way. He is able to, like the rest of the Pixar people, let the story be the star of the story. But his stories are just a little deeper, and told just a little more subtly, but with all the more impact. You may find yourself being moved as you watch this movie for the first time, yet not knowing, or being able to articulate anyway, why exactly.

The critics are abuzz about it, as am I. I predict that, like The Incredibles, it will not be the blockbuster that other Pixar films have been. With The Incredibles, they had to market it as SOMEthing, so it was clear from watching the previews that it was going to be a hilarious send up of superheroes. Well, it wasn't. It wasn't at all. I remember seeing for the first time in a Corona, CA theater and knowing I liked it a great deal but wondering just what kind of movie I just watched. It was that different from what anyone expected in a Pixar film (aside from the people who had seen "The Iron Giant" and knew it was the same guy). Well this time, they made a point it would seem to not sell the film as any particular kind of film in the previews. I'd seen all the previews numerous times and still didn't know just what to expect.

The opening short was gut-bustingly funny, an outrageous concept with brilliant physical comedy execution.

The film was visually stunning, and somehow upped the CGI ante once again. There may be more studios than ever putting out animated features faster and cheaper than ever -- but Pixar holds the title for at least another year

The story was told with little-to-no cliches. And I must be getting old because even the cliche jokes ("I don't mean to be rude. . . . but I'm French. . . ") made me laugh out loud. The message of the story was anything but obvious, so when it hits you, you get to feel like you solved a mystery. As Peter O'Tooles character lays it all out, all the pieces come together and . . . well, I didn't cry. Nope. You know me. I'm a rock, dammit :).

I applaud Peter O'Toole for not only voicing the character brilliantly but having a full-on comeback at the age of 174. I applaud Janeanne Garafaolo for -- for the first time I'm aware of -- playing a character without a hint of Janeanne Garafaolo in it. Or for making me believe it, anyway.

Max's reaction? "I dont' get it". This from a kid who, while emotionally immature in some ways, is nothing if not eloquent about his emotions. His heart is on his sleeve and he "gets" things on the gut level very easily. Sad that it won't be the boxoffice smash that Nemo or even Cars were, but I look forward to watching it -- as I have The Incredibles -- several hundred times on DVD. I'm sure I'll appreciate it more an more every time. I SURE hope Brad Bird gets to make a 3rd Pixar film. . .

Paging LDS Vegas Ben

2007-06-25T23:44:00.000-04:00

Will Lds Vegas Ben please report to the nearest white courtesy phone.

My e-mails are bouncing, get in touch homeslice!

The Summer of 1981

2007-06-23T12:02:00.000-04:00

I remember the summer between 5th & 6th grade. Grant Tsuji and I spent our days, from 10 to 3, at a daycare/camp thing called -- you'll never believe this -- "Ten to Three". It was held at the Elementary School we attended. Every week we took a bus to at least two different amusement-type places, which, knowing the cost of those things now, makes me think surely the program was subsidised on account of our Po' Kids School status.

-My treasured Mizuno baseball glove was stolen by the meanest, baddest bully in 10-3. His name was Mamdough (pronounced Mam-doo). It stayed stolen.
-I was bullied by a skinny guy from my baseball team named Bobby, until Grant (literally half my size) used some Karate throat-clench move from his extensive training on him. He tought it to me and I later used it during middle school, self-defense, against a Vietnamese kid on a basketball court
-Every bus ride we listened to someone's tape player, playing Double Dutch Bus. Over, and over again. Everyone on the bus knew every word, sometimes we'd sing along like zealous concertgoers.
-Grant and I used the keys to the apartment buildings we had (for our paper routes) to sneak in and play pool on their community pool tables.
-We were kicked out by a manager one time after he caught Grant standing on the table, air-guitar'ing his pool cue and singing "Betty Davis Eyes"
-Strangely, I don't remember any females from that summer. Perhaps hormones didn't rule my entire childhood as has been previously argued. Though my first school dance was that Spring, and Tammy Box & I danced to what seemed like an endless succession of Hall & Oates songs. I'm sure there were other songs, but every sound I remember from that dance came from good ole Darryl & John. Where are they now?
-I rode my bike (red Sekai 2000 10-speed) around the dark streets, wee hours of the morning, on my paper route, singing "Jessies Girl" and Smoky Robinson's "Being with You".

Today I'm reminiscing because of Max, who is the same age. Mostly, his maturity-spurts completely wig me out. But lately he's developed an interest in music, we spent a lot of time last Sunday putting music from my CD collection on his iPod. He'd go through my collection, pick out things that interested him, and I'd put a few representative (& appropriate) songs on his iPod. He personally requested more Stevie Wonder & Earth Wind & Fire. I glowed :). So this week he's been listening, and we listen together while we drive in White Bread Fred. As AK prepared our lunch salads today, Max and I serenaded her with a verse & chorus from EW&F's "September".

Then I glowed again. I often share my enthusiasms with him, but this may be the first time he's instigated it himself. He's reeeeally growing inside & out this summer. And as frustrating as my midlife career situation is, as much as I think I'm supposed to be beginning my "2nd half" or in the middle of a Vision Quest to rediscover the me that will lead me through the next phase of my life (since the old me is SO the old me. Remember Steve Martin in My Blue Heaven with a pompadour & awful NY accent? "This is not the old me, this is new me!") . . . . anyway (sometimes you just have to give up on a sentence that's grown too big for it's place in your story. It's like this sentence just grew up & moved out of the house, eager to strike out on it's own in the world outside my blog. I think I need to get over the loss & move on with life. . . ).

Ahem.

As much as I DON'T know where I'm supposed to be right now, I am infinitely grateful that I am here right now. I mean, I'm totally here. Even if I'm up to my ears in paint & work, I'm right here where we can listen to music, run errands together, and I am available to him. Does he need me right now? No. But I think he needs to know I'm available, that he need not fear, that he's not alone.

He's coming up on the awful trauma that is Middle School. And his neeto-bandito charter school is likely to provide a buffer to some extent. That in addition to his own leisurely maturity progress might make High School his Middle School. I don't know how available I'll actually be at that time, so I'm glad I'm setting a precedent right now. If he's in the habit of having me here, he'll more easily trust me to be here when he does need me. I hope.

Say do you remember? Dancing in September? Never was a cloudy day. . . . .

EZ-Up And Over The Roof

2007-06-10T14:53:00.001-04:00

Our EZ-Up is not the cheap kind. It's the super heavy duty deluxe model that you really don't ever want to have to carry anywhere, but are happy you bought when there's real weather and all of the other RC racers/MX racers/sports parents' EZ-Ups are blowing away in the wind. Its lived a long, rich life. It's been to countless MX and RC tracks, off-road riding areas and kids sporting events. It was our porch canopy for more than a month at the end of last Summer. Heck, now that I think about it, I do believe we've had it for over 7 years! But like I said, it's substantial. It's substantial enough that I call it the Relatively EZ-Up instead of the EZ-Up, because erecting it IS EZ'er than, say, building a shelter from brick & mortar. But it certainly doesn't go up with the EZ of some that I've seen recently.

For all of these reasons, we were shocked and a little mystified when we got home from a BBQ at a friends' house Friday night to see its white spindly self wadded up on the front lawn (it had been erected on the porch when we left) like a crumpled pretzel. No, it looked more like a huge albino daddy longlegs after an epileptic seizure and cardiac arrest. See, a storm rolled in while we were BBQ'ing. Apparently quite a doozy. At the BBQ we relaxed, watched the trees rock in the wind, and welcomed the coolness after a 90 degree afternoon. But here at the homefront that pleasant breeze had lifted our heavy-yet-admitedly-kite-shaped EZ-Up. . . well. . . UP over the roof of our house and onto the front lawn. I don't know what I'm more sad about; the fact that I missed watching/hearing it's journey over the house or the fact that my good old EZ-Up's days may be finally coming to a close.

Max and I went to see "Surfs Up" as part of my birthday gift to him yesterday. I don't know if it's a good movie or not, time will tell, but I sure giggled my ass off :). There was even at least one extended guffaw! When you watch the movie (and you should) look for the scene where Big Z is trying to teach Cody how to carve a surfboard. That scene IS me trying to teach Max, oh, anything. Lots of heart, and a Dad who's just as O.C.D. as the boy is impatient. God I'm giggling just thinking about it! Really, go see it, I want to know if I find it so funny because IT'S FUNNY or if it's because it just happens to be exactly like me trying to parent. Other reasons I loved seeing this movie:

-Zooey Deschanel and Jeff Bridges, two of my favorites and not the usual animated feature voices, play leads.

-Either they actually recorded the voice talent TOGETHER, or they did a phenomenal job of making it sound like they did. When you watch as much animation as I do, you notice how often the scripting sounds like, well, it's scripted. Lines are delivered one after the other with little of the spontaneity or natural'ness of, say, a Robert Altman film. In this one, there is banter between the characters, specifically Bridges and Shia Leboef, that feeels natural. As though it were of-the-moment or group improvised.

-Original setting idea: it's filmed almost entirely as a Reality Sports documentary show.

-Poop jokes. I'm sorry, but poop is funny. Say it. "Poop". Heh heh. That was cool.

Gramma Gaye got Max some much-needed gear for his birthday, all in his favorite color: orange. An effort to quickly take a photo to send Gramma turned into a dress-up parade, and that evolved into a dance party. Imagine the following with "Jump and Move" from the Happy Feet soundtrack playing. . . .

And while I'm sniffing around in my photo folders, here are two from Ben and Milo's "graduation" ceremony at preschool. Before the "ceremony" they had their usual preschool routines, what with kids doing their jobs and checking them off of lists and announcing what day it was and singing songs about how they are happy and together clap your hands etc etc. . . . Of particular interest to me were 2 things. One was Milo demanding with typical Milothian Authoritatious authority that ALL SINGING MUST CEASE AT ONCE because he hadn't yet peered out the window and reported on the weather for everyone. That was his job, see.

The other thing I noticed was the speed and enthusiasm with which my little joined-at-the-hip partners in crime PARTED WAYS when it was time to sit on the rug for, um, Rug Sitting Circle Group Together Time or whatever it was called. The boys zeroed in on "O" and "K" -- if not the prettiest girls in the class, certainly the girly'est girls in the class -- with great accuracy. I thought it was cute. It was either cute or borderline disruptuve when both boys engaged O and K with such singular focus as to exclude of the rest of the class, Mrs. Teacherface, and the oft-shouted-at-them requests to shut up & pay attention. Nope, darn near got them in trouble, that did. Here is Ben glowing at O. . .

Note that while Ben's attention is anywhere but where it should be, at least he is facing the proper direction like the rest of the class. Milo is not troubled by our feeble, uncreative reality with it's "teachers" and it's "other students". . .

*heh heh* I am SO sitting with K right now.

Today we went to church. That was good. I wrangled the Bishop into pinning down my future role in Scouting, and we decided that I will be the 11-Year-Old Scout Guy. I don't know if there is a title for it, but I'll be guiding Max and a few of his peers, starting late this summer, through Tenderfoot, 2nd Class Scout and First Class Scout status. We discussed my staying with the younger Webelos while Max moves forward. But for the time being Max still thinks I'm cool and still thinks I'm funny and thinks it's just cooler than cool that his Dad is his Scout Leader. Bishop is also a father of a 10-11 year old boy, and we agreed that I should appreciate this while I can, so I'll stay with Max and be the Wee Beginning Boy Scout Guy instead of the Senior Veteran Cub Scout Guy. We also discussed my own personal scout experience, which was limited to a few months in a well-intentioned but ultimately doomed Cub Scout pack organized and run almost exclusively by single mothers. We agreed that he'll sign me up for some Scout Leader training this summer :).

It's 10pm. In 2 hours, I'm Graduating from Tuesday

2007-05-30T21:33:00.001-04:00

. . .and earlier today Ben and Milo graduated from Preschool.

Yeah. It brought a tear to my eye. Not really. But it was nice to be done with that chapter, we're all about closing chapters. Forward movement always feels good. I cropped the pictures so you couldn't see Mrs. Teacherface. Partly because there are internet safety and anonymity rules that I don't understand or necessarily live by but I do try to respect the internet anonymity rights of others. Also, you'd see in the photos, if I didn't crop them, that Mrs. Teacherface's head is actually smaller than that of my freak mutant twin sons. No, not metaphorically. Quite literally, my littles have unreasonably disproporionate heads. Now that they are in a tall/skinny phase, they look even more like 2 really rotund fat guys on top of really tall unicycles. I think it's all they can do sometimes to keep the little body under the big head.

Max also acheived a milestone. Tuesday night he was awarded the Cub Scouts Arrow of Light. In scouting, it's a big deal. It's the passage from Cub Scouts to Boy Scouts, and the Arrow of Light patch is the only one of all their Cub Scout awards they can wear on their Boy Scout uniform. We scrambled to get it all done, our timing is such that we really only recently committed ourselves to Scouts. And my sudden involvement in Scouting as Assistant Webelos Den Leader/Webelos Den Leader/General Backup Guy to Original Webelos Den leader has certainly helped to encourage accountability. So we were both surprised ( I hadn't been to a Cub Scouts Den Meeting since I was in the 4th grade) that there was a real ceremony, with a real headdress, pow wow costume, ritual readings, and a hand-made arrow for Max! Very cool. The best part was when every Cub Scout was invited to go to the Arrow Of Light boys, congratulate them and shake their hand. Max glowed there :). I'm sure that was the point.

I am 100% down with the idea of exposing boys to values in scouting. For me it's about manners & respect, and as blogged previously those are hills I'm ready to die on. I know (though I often forget) that the idea is not to brainwash values into the boys, only to expose them to them. We talk about them, ask questions, do things and explain why we did the things. All important skills that will serve throughout life, and it gives the boys a vocabulary for ideas like courage and leadership. Those are things I didn't think about until I started reading literature in high school, so I'm thrilled to help Max get a head start. I've gotten the Scout Leader Crash Course, now I'm eager to see how the organization works within the church & maybe find my own place in it all.

The NS50 is now gone *sniff*, leaving me but one motorized cycle. And it could be argued that The Minnesota Winter Scootyped Project is more of an unsolved mystery than a motorcycle. This empty space in the workshop is yet another chapter closed, since I haven't been without a real motorcycle since I was 15. Instead of feeling releif and hope for the chapters to come, it really just is a reminder that I've yet to find the next chapter. At least I'm acknowledging it, if not addressing it in an expeditious manner. I'm trying to embrace the lostness and mystery, just be lost, instead of kvetching over how I shouldn't be. Very Tao :) I'm trying to listen, if that makes sense, maybe for clues as to where I am -- instead of clues as to where I should be.

And I've been getting some serious clues lately that I should address my physical well being. The book previously mentioned, it turns out, was not "Making Your Metabolism Your Bitch" but "Body Intelligence". And of all the books I've decided maybe I should be reading, it's the only one that made itself land in my lap almost immediately at it's very mention. There is also the evermore obvious fact that I don't find joy in eating like I used to. I've always likened it to sex, it's a sensual pleasure, something that one shouldn't deny within healthy limits. And there hasn't been very darn much denial in my life. Nope, if I woke up tomorrow on my deathbed I would NOT wish I'd eaten more chimichangas or chorizo. But for awhile now the sacrifices of such foods have outweighed the benefits. There are no more rationales for eating the way I've always eaten, all that remains are the habits. And that's supposed to be what this book (Body Intelligency by Edward Abramson) is all about.

Remember The Freakin Elf Shorts? Here is a link to both the latest caption contest and also a comprehensive history of the shorts. . .

http://theinfomaniac.blogspot.com/

. . . which I am intermittently both proud of and concerned about my involvement in. Gets a little racy at the end, in case your sensibilities are easily offended ;).

Or-may ater-lay, iends-fray.

Memorial Day Observances

2007-05-27T21:37:00.000-04:00

Memorial Day weekend. This is a time to honor America's fallen soldiers. A time to reflect on war and the Americans who've made the greatest sacrifice for their country. I spent 6 hours Saturday morning driving through rural southern PA and pondering these things as I listened to war-&-veteran-themed essays, interviews & talk on XMPR.

The good people of rural southern PA were expressing their devotion to America's fallen soldiers by hocking garbage in front of their homes. I was moved as I counted nearly every third home had colorful displays of old, broken or near-useless crap on it's lawn. I sensed the southern Pennsylvanians pride and respect for our servicemen everytime I heard "STOP THE CAR, BOB I WANT THAT STATIONARY BIKE!" With every sudden brake light, with every narrowly-avoided rear-end collision, I got just a little choked up.

Not really. But it was funny. I drove by 5,644 yard sales on my way to deliver an Ebay'ed scooter Saturday morning. Did all of those people aquire all that crap (or an equivalent amount of new crap) in just one year? Since last Memorial Day? Or was I looking at 10% virgin crap, on display for it's very first Memorial Day Yard Sale -- and 90% Last Year's Yard Sale Crap Which Didn't Sell?

What's Goin' On? I'll try to do an overall update here, I've gotten some mild e-mail lashings since AK's fallen out of the blogosphere.

Why were you Ebaying your scooter, Chris? As previously reported, AK's work has been scarce and Lux has been trying to take up the slack. So Lux sold 2 of Lux's final 3 motorized cycles on Ebay this weekend. Now Lux has more space in the workshop for clear-coating helmets, and AK has the means to pay more bills. Yes, the Hawaii Five-Oh is gone (it was sold to a Hawaiian who just moved to rural VA of all people). And Tuesday my precious NS50 will also have a new home.

AK is on the verge of getting a permanent part-time job in a law office locally to even out these self-employment peaks and valleys. She's picked up some new Math writing projects, and of course her big May Project should be starting up in June. She's enjoyed all the gardening and knitting. And WE HAVE SO enjoyed having our favorite cat where she belongs, in the center of our universe. And she SO had us financially prepared for her work-stoppage. But the May Job Postponement really did tax the lady and I know she'll be glad to get back to breadwinning and Debt Dragon slaying.

Max is wrapping up his 5th grade year. He has been growing lately. We celebrated his 11th birthday today. He has just completed his Arrow of Light in Cub Scouts, which means he'll now be a Boy Scout. He'll be on the Welch Sharks swim team this summer. He's seriously considering pimping his body out to science (again) for a Penn State study that will net him enough dough for a new Nintendo Wii. He's anxious to find a niche for himself, maybe its something else, I don't know he's old enough to be complex now (not girl complex, y'all have fun out there raising those girls and god bless you for doing it. . . ). I'm mostly unsuccesful at reaching out to the boy, it's hard for a father & son, but I keep trying. The one thing I can do is hug. We can spend all day in completely different places, speaking different languages, stressing about different things, being irritable and clashing with each other. It's as though our love for each other just gives us a greater capacity for intense conflict. But if we can just get physically close for a moment, I get to meet his needs. And what's more challenging/more rewarding than truly meeting the needs of your child?

Milo sings songs and whistles a lot. He's really been getting his Dalai Lama on lately, wearing his heart on his sleeve and brokering peace via his own style of preschool diplomacy. Ben could not only ketchup his own hot dog, buckle his own seatbelt and dress himself, but he's pretty sure he could solve most of the worlds ills if we would all just LET him. Dammit. Both are very excited about swimming, Mom and Max have been giving them lessons so they can swim the length of the pool and be on the Sharks with Max this year. Ben reads a lot. Milo reads so much/so well that Ben looks like he's behind. Milo just seems to enjoy the reading, everything everywhere has writing on it and he gets to decode it all! Just another thing to be insanely happy about and deliciously at-peace with. Life is good for the Dalai Lama. They both enjoy Smart Start Football, because it's all about running and playing, though neither appear to be athletic prodigies. Some of the 5-year-olds in their class have clearly been groomed by their fathers since birth to play football. I recognize it, I know it's wrong (I learned that lesson with Max and motorcycles) but I respect their commitment.

I am having a mid life crisis. I don't want to call it a crisis. And I really don't want you thinking of sports cars and extra-marital affairs. It's a normal, natural change, a step in normal male maturity I think. It shouldn't be a crisis. But our society's insistence on associating mens' selves with their careers makes it a crisis. And that makes it hard to be comfortable in an Ambiguous Career State, as I am. But I'm trying, thinking and planning on a daily basis. Growing my business even though I'm convinced it's not a large part of my financial future. Trying to find books about it (Good luck, by the way, finding a CURRENT/RECENT book about midlife changes in men, written by a man. Secular would be great, since I don't have the well of strength Faith provides a man right now. Any recommendations are appreciated). I'm frustrated because I'm a mentor-style learner. I want to turn to my elders, who have seen this a hundred times and know it's proper place in the big picture, for counsel. But our society doesn't work like that and even if there are men like me out there they either are in the throes of it as I am or don't have the vocabulary to share their lessons with me. Because, you know, men just don't talk to men about these kinds of things :/.

Today was a special treat, we had a family get-together to celebrate Max's 11th and Cuz O's 1st birthdays. Max had a particularly mean Benadryl early in the day (He has my debilitating allergies. Sharing is caring!) and slept through most of his own party, but did get up in time for singing and of course. . . .

. . . .cake.

That's what's goin on, or all I can think of right now. I'm in the midst of my own antihistamine haze, and sleep in sounding increasingly groovy, man. Totally.

Custom Unicycle Helmets

2007-05-17T11:04:00.000-04:00

There seems to be some interest in custom-painted helmets and vinyl decals in the unicycle community. This is a fast-growing market that many industries haven't reached out to yet, I'm learning. On one hand, I'm actively heading in several different career directions right now. On the other hand, these old airbrushes are paying our bills right now so I need all the outlets I can get for my work. It's actually kind of breathing some creative life into me, these guys are so excited at the idea of having custom paint on their lids :)

In particular there is one kid & we're talking about a pseudo-sponsorship. He makes videos, as I've learned a lot of young skater-like unicyclists do. And they usually have video of tricks and extreme things done on uni's, and they usually have driving metal or rap soundtracks. And so do Sam's videos. However, his video & editing equipment is a step or two above the others. And his music selections are exactly the stuff I find for myself at www.pandora.com, so I fully approve there. And one of his videos, his most recent, is so charming that I have to share it with the internet. I showed AK, and even though she hadn't seen the hundreds of normal extreme skater angry youth urban trials and mountain unicycling unicycling videos, and hence didn't see the context as I do . . . it still won her over :). Here is "La Mujercita" (and feel free to tell us, Kristen, what "La Mujercita" means. We suspect its "The Little Woman" but when I typed it into Babelfish it translated as "The Mujercita". Brilliant). . .

So we'll see.

Emily provided unisputable proof yesterday that drugs do in fact lead to delinquency and criminal behavior. Early in the day, she rifled through AK's purse and devoured what was left her Mothers Day (did you kiss those Mommies? Get ta' Mommy kissin' y'all!) chocolates. Canine biology is such that they're very susceptible to the effects of sugar and cocao. So she was The Tasmanian Poodle all day, tearing around like something between Taz and a coked-up caffeine-addict after 2 hours in a Starbucks: VERY wrong, but happy nonetheless. The interesting part was that our normally well-behaved, rule-abiding and authority-respecting dog seemed to be on the canine equivalent of a crime spree. She went dumpster diving first, wrecking the kitchen. AK put her in lock-down for that. When I set her free later in the day, she was out all of 30 seconds before she got up on the counter and ate the egg sandwich I later learned was to have been my breakfast. This put her back in the poodle clink. Someone somewhere let her out again, it wasn't me and for all I know she jumped a Triumph motorcycle sidecar-rig over a fence to bust out (she watches the Classic Movie Channel too much). I know she got out because of the monstrous pile of poodle droppings she left for me in the basement! Now in her defense on this one, just prior to that violation she did come to me with that spazzy "I need you to address me and my concerns right now" look. But in my defense, she hadn't looked any different all day. The rest of the day was spent playing inappropriately rough with the boys, being where she shouldn't and eating forbidden fruits from heretofore un-reachable-by-a-poodle places.

Bad Dog.

I hope Spring is being good to all of you! :)

OK, I said I was ready to be done with this. . .

2007-05-14T13:06:00.000-04:00

And now -- I really really am :)

Happy Mothers Day, Mothers!

2007-05-12T16:03:00.000-04:00

As I mature, the importance of parenting becomes more and more evident. It's like that super-duper important speech you had to make or presentation you had to give, it's as though EVERYthing is riding on how you do it. But it's not "like" that at all, it IS that important. The fate of the universe, as parents, is in our hands. And it's being determined with every decision we make every minute of every day. And we don't even get to pause & take a deep breath before we go out on stage. . . .when we wake up each morning, like it or not, we're parenting. The more I realize this, the more paralyzed with fear I become, and ironically the more imperative it is that I act. Now. Correctly. Or the most imporant things I've ever done in this world (Max, Ben/Milo. . .in the order I did them) will surely suffer in some way. Perhaps a big way. Maybe a showing-up-on-my-doorstep-as-20-Somethings-in-Psychotherapy-telling-me-I-ruined-their-childhood way. Or maybe a busted-for-breaking-probation-on-a-drug-related-felony way!

Ahem. I'm kvetching again. Can a gentile kvetch? If yes, I'm SO starting The Should Have Been Jewish They Kvetch So Well Society of Central Pennsylvania.

Where I was going with this is: No matter how frighteningly important, pivotal and/or crucial me and my actions are, in every waking moment, to the healthy development of my boys . . . Alaska and HER actions/decisions are EVEN MORE important/crucial! Yay! I actually feel a little less kvetchy now :)

t's true, Moms are the more important parent. Generally speaking Moms work harder and stretch more and . . . well heck. . . they went through LABOR. Duh. They are a child's first connection to his surroundings, they teach him to relate with the world, they are his very sustenance from hour one. That connection is never lost. Nope. Never. So go love up your Mom today. And if you're a Mom, when you're done loving up YOUR Mom, just chill the hell out and let the love come to you for a day. OK? Happy Mothers Day!

We got Mom some yummy special treats -- some really special like European chocolate lemon bread and Uber-Cocoa chocolate, some just mundanely comfortable like a People Magazine -- and plan to make her a big fat feast of a breakfast tomorrow. She also gets a copy of the DVD we made for The Grammas. Max and I asked around at Unicycle Club today for Mommy Treat advice, given that there were 3 Mommies there. One of them (after the ubiquitous "CHOCOLATE!" was recommended) said we should be extra sweet to her for the day, say lots of nice things about how loved we feel when she does x, y and z for us.

I had to say, and in retrospect I still believe, that our matriarch is pretty darn well loved-up on a regular basis. She's got a whole pack of animals here who are not one bit shy about the fact that our whole universe revolves around her. Nope, us Hults boys can 'spress our feelings -- it's a gift. And if Max and I are not yelping our joy about whatever she cooked for us from the highest rooftop, then Milo is snoozling up with her like a kitten, or Ben is demanding that we all just GO AWAY because HE is going to go (wherever she's invited him to go) WITH MOMMY ALL BY HIMSELF. Yes, AK will get love of every flavor from every Hultsboy and Hultspoodle on Mothers day. But if we really wanted to give her a treat? A truly rare gift tailored just for her special needs, something that took real sacrifice on our part??? We'd leave her alone all day :). Sleep. Silence. Knitting. More sleep. These are the things our kitty cat craves.

Woof! Maybe next year :).

Meanwhile Back at The Ranch Max and I had our 2nd consecutive darn-good time at Unicycle Club this morning. He puts in considerable effort, and I can't tell you how much that means to me. He's 10, with a 10-year-old attention span. He's leary of any Dad-related sport activity, due to the pressures and un-fun-ness that are inherent. AND learning to ride a unicycle is long, hard, and not very rewarding even after hours and hours of practice ("practice" here is synonymous with "crashing"). But I am downright good now at NOT pressuring, JUST coaching and coaching in a primarily positive manner at that. Add to that that he's flirting with pre-teen hood and maybe a little interested in not so much me but men -- what men do, how they are, etc. . . . I don't know the reasons, but he's there, he's trying, he listens to me, he's present (as much as he can be) and I'm tickled over it. There is a possibility that the previous several sentences are hooey, and it's solely the presence of Aubrey The 5th Grade Girl that motivates him. That would make at least as much sense as the hooey, actually.

I rode the giant 36" "Coker" unicycle today. As expected, I fell in love. See, "riding around" has never so much been my forte. It's just in my nature to GO places. A year ago when I started looking back into unicycling I was pleased to see that a)it's grown & diversified into many different styles of unicycling and b) one of those is called "touring" or "commuting" Yup, they make unicycles for GOING places now! Unicycles are not complex machines, so making a unicycle good for going places means giving it a big wheel. And the touring uni's of choice have 36" wheels with baloony tires called "Cokers". Supreme Uni Chancellor has been bringing her Coker to meetings, but I've been intimidated by it. It's higher up and farther front/backwards to fall. Also hers has a little trip computer on it, which would likely become a little trip computer'esque pile of plastic bits after I skidded her unicycle across the parking lot a couple of times. But today I gave in and ooooooooh that's my kind of riding. Max told me as politely as possible that it's uber-size made it the only unicycle I didn't look like a total clown on.

Is it silly to ride a unicycle and worry that I'll look like a clown? Oy. I feel a kvetch a' comin' on. .

. . .thats Not Me on a Coker Unicycle. It's heavier, like pedalling a large flywheel, that's what makes it good for distance riding. Even uphill, the flywheel effect helps you cover more ground with less pedalling effort. And I'm not one for "M-Uni" or Mountain Unicycling, but these are also great for getting over obstacles. No idea how I'll afford one of these, pennies are being pinched within an inch of their coppery little lives around here, but it's on the wishlist. Strangely, the more fun I have riding, the more frustrating it is that I have limited leg strength and very limited cardio vascular endurance. I wanna ride more, but I can't. There are some "Unithon"s in NY and NJ this Summer, maybe I can get in shape in time for one.

Here is Supreme Uni Chancellor riding what's called an Ultimate Wheel unicycle. It's a wheel with off-set pedals in it. Only. No seat. Gotta protect your inner calfs, since rubbing the tires against them is all part of riding an Ultimate Wheel. . .

Netflix Report 28 Days Later: Awesome music, very well done retelling of the zombie movie story with all of the subtle irony that would make George Romero proud. The Matador Yes, Pierce, you can do more than James Bond. Interesting story. Friend of mine said of it "I wanted it to be better" and I agree. Memento WHOOOOO what a ride! This director played with every storytelling rule in the moviemaking book, and it really really worked. So much to see, so much to learn & think about. Tomes have been written about this movie, fortunately I only had to read a little bit to clear up my own confuzzlement at the very end of the movie.

Kiss those mommies!

Oh the blogging that must be blogged.

2007-05-04T21:05:00.000-04:00

OK First we have The Whole Muh Nu Muh Nu thing. I feel moderately comfortable saying that I'm now about as educated as I can be about this intriguing little piece of music. Of the many pages devoted to the song and the various ways one can be obsessed with it, I'll point you to this one it's very comprehensive. . .

Who is Piero Umiliani

Piero, of course, besides being yet another European I should have named at least one of my sons after, is the composer of the original "Mah Na Mah Na". I must thank the God and Goddess of Google Fu, The Henderdizzles, for providing the following. First is the ORIGINAL ORIGINAL, from the film "Sweden: Hell or Heaven" which is Swedish of course and this version appears to be dubbed in Italian

Svezia, Inferno e Paradiso

WARNING the above clip contains 1.7 breasts. If this makes you at all uncomfortable, stop it just before the end (at just about the point when you suspect you are about to see 1.7 breasts, specifically). But it is very interesting to hear the very first version of this song. The next bit of Mah Na Mah Na trivia is the "Bandanana" version that was made for the New Zealand teen society's Wear a Bandana Week in 2005. . .

And now, as if you hadn't seen enough video renditions of this catchy little tune, I found this one on YouTube quite by chance. . .

I am ready to be done with this for now.

THE ELF SHORTS ARE BACK!!! Just recently I was wondering aloud, to someone, "what ever happened to The Freakin Elf Shorts?" For those of you not familiar with the Freakin Elf Shorts Phenomenon (do dooooo de doo do), it was a pair of -- um -- elf shorts, that had been mailed all over to several bloggers. A blogger would take a photo of themselves in the elf shorts, then hold a caption contest. The person with the funniest caption got to have the elf shorts next. I was quite honored to be a part of the game, I did my funny photo, I judged the funniest caption, and now after many months of marital counseling our relationship is fully healed. It turns out that the phonomenon never died! A recent elf-shorts-wearer has been trying to put together a comprehensive history of the shorts, and I of all people was holding him up. Since my old blog address died, and somewhere about the same time as the server died, I changed addresses and became considerably less entertaining and prolific, no one knew where PuppDaddy went :(. I think the key was "Barking", someone remembered that "Barking" was the name of Puppdaddy's blog, and that led to the new, identically-titled (yet less-frequently-updated and as stated decidedly less funny) blog home.

In any case, I will keep an eye on the latests Elf Shorts blogger and link you over when the compleat compilation is compleatly compilated.

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Saturday is something you've probably seen already, but oh my gizzle it's good. It's wrong, and a little disturbing, but just a little more fun than disturbing. Kristen you remember that Kermit suicide drug song you found? Yeah, that one tipped the scales in the other direction :).

Tomorrow, Saturday, once thought to be a catch-up-on-painting-I-should've-done-earlier-in-the-week day, will instead be quite the challenge. AK will go to a church girl daytime slumber party thing in Pittsburgh (not complaining, I urged her to go). Which leaves me to take the twins to swimming. Normally not something I dig doing, but it's important she goes to the thing and has a nice day away with the girls. But oh then I forgot unicycle club is also tomorrow. And dammit, the twins' first Start Smart Pre-Peewee Football is tomorrow also. Hoosh!

I'm out, I've much kvetching to do.

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Wednesday. . .

2007-05-02T14:11:00.000-04:00

. . . is in the comments section of the last entry. Thank you A-Weas! In the words of Crush the Sea Turtle, you so totally rock.

I looked it up, and it appears that the original piece of music was done by a Swedish composer and was originally used in the score for a soft-core Swedish pornography film. During a sauna scene. Yeah. Then it was a hit in the US in 1968/69, that's when the above piece -- the REAL original -- was done for The Ed Sullivan Show. The Sesame Street piece from the 70s that we had heretofore called "The Original" did have the effect of finally getting the song onto the European charts when the childrens music album it was on was popular there. I also learned that the Muppets did a "Bandanana" version for a New Zealand teen support group's (Can Teen) Wear-a-Bandana Week promotion. I looked, and came close, but could not find that video online.

ANY help in a)finding the "Bandanana" video or b)helping me get the above video saved in a normal (.wmv, .avi, .mov) video format would most ginormously appreciated!

Meanwhile, ye be up to thine ears in polycarbonate paints. We should have some good photos to post after this weekend, since Ben and Milo are doing "Start Smart Football".

This morning we have boy, with increasing chance of young man by the afternoon.

2007-04-23T11:07:00.000-04:00

This somehow captures the 143 different personalities of my son. Or maybe you only see 1 of them? Or a few, depending on how well you know him? These are the mysteries of portraiture. Please post the definitive explanation of portraiture, in essay form with footnotes and any other related academia, in the comments section. Your assignments are due immediately.

Or you could just tell me what you see.

I see my father's heavy eyes, which is strange because he looks like me, and I really look very little like my father. I see his confident nature, salted with the fatigue and resignation he uses to cope with the puberty he's not ready for. I see a child who is increasingly uncomfortable in childhood, terrified of anything else, and just beginning to flirt with the excitement of true independence. I see the doors of parental control beginning to close, I see the rising dawn of parental influence, and way way back behind those heavy hazel eyes I see his big heart shining. Then I'm assured that even though the coming years will be awkward and painful, he's ultimately going to be a very happy man. There are hundreds of reasons, but in this photo I can't help but see what he's not showing: a laughing loving boy-bordering-on-teen who yearns for nothing more than connecting with people. And how wrong can you go with your heart out there on your sleeve? For all to share? Yeah, it gets dirty and hurt out there in the elements. But in the really big picture I believe that's a good problem to have.

In other news, Spring has finally sprung. See AK's blog for sun-related excitement. I'm feeling overwhelmed, as though I need to hurry up and get cracking on every single thing I thought of all Winter and concluded "I'll do that when the sun comes out". But meanwhile Lux is still driving the Breadwinner Bus so it all takes a backseat to paint & copywriting & any other venue I can find for whoring out my meager skills. It took me almost one whole year, but I finally managed to get myself and a fully functional unicycle to a meeting of The Wobbling Lions. That was a hoot, I met lots of interesting folk, and it was all the excerise I thought it would be. I hope to be maybe touring or doing "Muni", mountain unicycling, by the end of the Summer! Do they have trailside defibrillators I wonder. . . . I used the impending meeting to finally get a helmet painted, and I have an order in for two more already. So who wants a custom painted helmet? Motorcycle, batting, bicycle you name it. Much bigger market than the one I've focused on so far, much more potential.

Planning is underway for our next video! Max is leaning towards any of his favorite songs, which tend to be house/dance music. This would be good for a storytelling video since the songs themselves offer little story. I've got it in my head that I want to do "Mo' Money Mo' Problems", maybe then I can move on to another genre and give up trying to be Spike Jonze. And long term AK and I fantasize about a Christopher Guest-style mockumentary about homeschooling, though I'm afraid only homeshoolers would get most of the gags we've thought of so far. Any ideas?

:) Enjoy your Spring! As Dy says, Kiss Those Babies. . .

"Awwwwww. . . . you all look so normal!"

2007-04-15T09:48:00.000-04:00

That was the reaction of one of our fellow piano class/charter school parents, when she saw our whole clan Saturday, on parade in our nice-clothes & church regalia. I asked AK what she meant by that, and why she gets away with it, and I don't understand the answer, but I respect that she's just as harried as we are with her gaggle of munchkins and over-scheduled weekends. So it's cool. And she's right, dammit. Getting everyone into their Sunday duds is one thing. It's even harder when you add "extras": Mom's doing her hair & makeup and dad has to go get new pants (his suit pants still fit , but it would seem the waistbands shrunk on all of his corporate khakis) and both of the big boys need new belts. Oh and Max and I had to stop at Lowes so I could jury-rig the tri-pod for the camcorder for the recital. . . . etc. . .

So DAMN SKIPPY we look normal. And we earned it! We should get an award for achieving Normal Status.

Saturday consisted of: Gramma J visit, Max's piano recital, the groundbreaking ceremony for his charter school's new school facility, then a birthday party for Ben & Milo's little friend at dinner time. Gramma J visit passed so fast I barely remember, of course I think I slept through the first part of it. Then the piano recital was really something. I havent' attended any/many of his recitals so far. And that's a good thing. But both of us were ready, I did all the right Good Daddy Things and none of the Bad Daddy Things. He acted mature and relatively professional, so much that at the end he was lauded by his teacher more for his behavior than his playing.

That's not as bad as it sounds, his playing was really fine. He's played better, but his teacher understands that technique and accuracy are not where he needs help right now. It was clear to me in hearing the other children play (and from hearing Max play at home recently, he really wasn't his best at the recital though he was right there with his age group), that Max really does have a gift. Some kids are very practiced and very accurate, one in particular that I call The Mathematician, he gets not a note wrong or out of place. But The Mathematician's piece has no feeling, no ups and downs, no investment on his part aside from the hours of repetition and muscle memory. Some of the other older kids, however, (in addition to the accuracy that comes from practice), actually feel the music they're playing and take you on a little journey throughout the piece. Listening to them play was like a little classical piano concert, and reminded you why classiscal music was the Top 40 for hundreds of years. Well Max is neither of these species yet, but he clearly has a knack for the feeling and ups and downs and letting-the-music-happen part of things. If his parents cracked the whip and got him practicing as religiously as his teacher would like, he will be one of the little concert pianist musically-gifted kids in a few years. He's got the talent part, and that's good news. Where he needs to apply himself is in the acting professional-even-though-4th-grade-girl-who-I-suspect-kind-of-digs-him-is goofing off & trying to engage him during the recital. And it was here that he excelled yesterday, and it's why I was soooooo proud of him. He conquered his performance nerves just fine, and he performed nearly to his skill level, and he showed talent & artistic promise, and none of us are concerned about any of that stuff long term.

Here is his Alegretto 1, showing not so much the talent but a great deal of the technical stuff that comes from practice, which is harder for us and so much more meaningful. Only 3 little garfs, but never got lost & maintained composure like a pro. He also did a duet "Just Can't Wait To Be King" but you could barely hear him playing over his teacher so I'll just post this one. . .

Then there was us looking all Normal. . .

And most of his class, with our beloved Mrs. B the Ukrainian Suzuki Mistress. She is wholly committed with every cell of her being to the idea that love would flourish and peace would prevail on Earth if everyone would just play the piano. The Suzuki way. And no less than 4 hours a day, with another 2 spent listening to classical. :) In all seriousness, she appreciates Max's gifts and knows how to push him hard and make him proud of himself. And that is so rare today. And we adore her for this.

Then we proceeded to the groundbreaking cermony/party for his school's new school. His school is only it's 2nd or 3rd year of existence, and they've been doing their thing in leased digs. They've done very well with their current facility really, though there is no room for his current class and they are in an adjacent building. The new facility will be great, though not complete with cafeteria or full playground for a few years. And my standards are low, anything to avoid the perils of traditional Middle School!

Here is a photo & video of one of the festivities. See, the theme at his school is multi-culturalism. They learn both Spanish and Chinese from the earliest grades. So here we have a Turkish/Persian traditional music & dance presentation (yes, that is the same Little Patricia Arquette from piano). We learn here that, traditionally and multi-culturally, the women of Persia and the Near East. . .

. . .do The Monkey, do The Cabbage Patch, and work hard pull-starting their lawnmowers. :) Seriously, they were lovely and had worked hard to learn the dances and are learning early on as they should that the world is bigger than State College, PA.

Max and I opted out of the little kid birthday party & went bowling. It wasn't nearly as interesting as last time, and perhaps a little frustrating for The Maxinator. His approach is consistent and looks better than ever, he's doing all I've (calmly and with no pressure'ly) coached him on. Yet the ball hits gutter immediately after leaving his hand. I don't know how to fix it, he's never missed so many pins! So we just watched the music videos, rolled our frames, and enjoyed the entertainment of the drunk college kids on the left & giggly Koreans on the right.

Mom was a Good Mom and took the kids to the party of the kid from the family that we really do love and cherish. But Mom is an Introverted Mom, and she'd spent the whole day interacting with other Moms, and I suspect the Chuckie-Cheese-Hell-like environment of the arcade/tubetown birthday party place was a bit much for her. So she got home, went to The Good Mommy Couch, and melted. We let mommy melt and were happy to have her back this morning :).

Today, we recover. We were going to watch the big nasty storm that was supposed -- at one time -- to drop 6-12 inches of April snow on us. But either it died somewhere West of us or it took a detour to the North. Either way, it's providing no entertainment value at all. AK has just proposed a library trip, followed by a quiet reading afternoon. I am down.

Enjoy your weekend!

Modern Love. Gets me to the church on time.

2007-04-12T10:44:00.000-04:00

So here is a wedding Me Me that I snorked from Dy.

I imagine that if either of you are reading this blog, you already know these stories. But I've been an airbrushin', Ebay listing, order hustlin' fool for the last few days & I wanna blog. Or excercise. Or brush my teeth. Really, really thoroughly. Anything to avoid work for another hour.

1. Where/How did you meet?
AK and I met in the Walnut Creek Civic Arts Young Reperatory Theater Company. She was 16, acted, dressed, sounded and looked exactly as she does today. I was 14, gangly and dorky but a hard-working clown who tap danced for every pretty girl with a giggle to give. I asked her to go to Bagel King with me, and I educated her on the finer points of Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Blueberry Cream Cheese consumption. She gave many giggles and I walked on air when she let me hang around with her.

2. How long have you known each other?
That was the Summer of 1984, so it's almost 23 years.

3. How long after you met did you start dating?
Well, in 1984, I think I asked her "to go with me" almost immediately. We had dates, I gave her her first kiss, she dumped me mercilessly due to peer pressure (Walnut Creek was the tracks, and we lived on different sides of the tracks). But we really GOT TOGETHER in the Spring of 1994, 10 years later. During those 10 years our friendship vasillated (pendulized?) between distant but close, rabid letter writing/phone calling, and very very best of friends. I worshipped the ground she walked on during those 10 years, she wishes she could rewind/delete them, so we often bicker over whether she was a rockstar or a trainwreck. I win because I'm right, and even if it was rough it's why she is who she is today. And she is HIZZ TO THA IZZOT did you know?

4. How long did you date before you were engaged?
I don't know, less than a year. Before she even came out to CA (from OH) for a visit, Mandy (friend's girlfriend's sister) asked if I was going to marry this girl. I hadn't thought about it per se. But us extroverts have to SAY things for them to be real, and thats how I knew it was real when I responded sans hesitation: "It would be a shame not to".

5. How long was your engagement?
I dunno, less than a year I suppose. It took us awhile to plan the wedding, we had a limited budget.

6. How long have you been married?
Almost 12 years.

7. What is your anniversary?
*pulling off my wedding band to read it. . . .* July 22nd, 1995

8. How many people came to your wedding reception?
Around 80

9. What kind of cake did you serve?
Well, I fell in love with this local bakers "Princess Cake" which was made of different types of Marzipan. AK did not like the coconutty nut-paste flavor. And I had to admit that the dome-shaped cakes in the color of natural marzipan looked a lot like tanned female mammaries. So we had Marzipan Princess Cake at our rehearsal dinner (along with Zachary's, the worlds very best pizza, from Berkeley, CA). And the wedding had a traditional basket-weave wedding cake. Instead of people on top, we had tiny model BMW motorcycles in the colors of our BMW bikes.

10. Where was your wedding?
The Depot, a restaurant (with courtyard and wading pool) in Sonoma, CA.

11. What did you serve for your meal?
I have no stinkin' idea. I contest that the food at our wedding was a boo boo. It was all froo froo pretty stylish veggie chic. My only stipulation was that we have devilled eggs. We did. I only had two, they were awful.

12. How many people were in your wedding party? 8

13. Are you still friends with them all?
Yep. About half were family, but even still in touch with the friends despite distances.

14. Did your spouse cry during the ceremony?
I don't think so. I'm the weeper, I cried during my own reading. And when I saw her come down the aisle. Well, come down the side of the wading pool.

15. Most special moment of your wedding day?
See #14, I really did melt and become ecstatically hers forever when I first saw her. That was the beginning of my life's first paradigm shift, and it had all the impact of a religious revelation. The speeches by my Mom, Father in Law and Best Man were pretty awesome too. My Mom's was especially brilliant and she glowed.

16. Any funny moments?
-People really dug our favors, faught over them at the end of the day and some still have them. They were toy motorcycles, then we spraypainted POGS (remember pogs?) black and glued them to the sides of favor-boxes. Pipe cleaners held them to the motorcycles, so they were little silver shiny motorcycle trailers full of candy.
-AK dropped her bouquet, sending her maids atwitter, when we kissed.
-In the weeks leading up to the wedding, AK was nervous and I was calm. The day of the wedding she was relieved and ready to rock (uncharacteristically cussing like a sailor in the "backstage" section of our wedding video). I was paralyzed with an un-named fear, and made my Best Man play Crystal Waters' "100% Pure Love" 23 times on the drive to Sonoma.
-Introducing my groomsmen for the video, I nervously, unwittingly and systematically insulted every one of them.

17. Any big disasters?
-Our officiant was a disaster. He was charming & confident before the wedding, flamboyantly gay and embarassing during the ceremony. Hopefully for many he was one of the Funny Moments. For me, he was one of the reasons we had a Recommitment Ceremony 2 years ago.
-Our photographer was a disaster. It was a budget arrangement, they were unorganized, and I could tell during the shoot that the pictures would suck. They do. We spent most of the event getting terrible pictures taken, not nearly enough time with our wonderful guests. The video was done by great friends, thankfully, that's awesome.
-The Devilled Eggs. A man deserves a sharp, curry-tinged devilled egg on his wedding day!

18. Where did you go on your honeymoon?
We rode our motorcycles to a National BMW Motorcycle Rally in Durango, CO, visiting friends there and on the way. We stayed at a B&B in Sonoma for 2 nights before, and that was heaven.

19. How long were you gone?
2 weeks I think?

20. If you were to do your wedding over, what would you change?
Food, photographer & officiant. I think our readings could have had more preparation, also. Here I was a theater guy, my theater brother and even my high school drama teacher were there and the piece was excellent -- I should've killed! Also, I still wish we'd had the cash for an evening reception with more booze. For a smallish, afternoon wine country affair it was absolutely perfect, don't get me wrong. I just always had this tiny picture if my mind of a mediumish evening affair with slightly more revelry, especially given that pretty much all our favorite people in the whole world were in one place at one time, one time only!

21. What side of the bed do you sleep on?
Right side is Daddyville, though there are often more boys & dogs there when I wake up than when I went to bed.

22. What size is your bed?
California King. We all sprawl.

23. Greatest strength as a couple?
We're cemented, we're a rock, we're a given. While we question our own place in life sometimes, we never do question our place next to each other. That's very empowering, and I'm pretty confident we can do anything we set our wildly divergent, independent and stubborn minds to!

24. Greatest challenge as a couple?
Introvert, Extrovert. "Love languages" doesn't begin to cover the communication issues. If she's a Russian scholar, I'm an Ojibway African tribesman. And we've got no translator. We'll let you know how that goes. . .

25. Who literally pays the bills?
90% of the time she earns it & she writes the checks. When things are good, Lux Graphics pays down debts and buys us the treats we all deserve. When things are tight, like now, Lux Graphics pays the utilities.

26. What is your song?
Hmmmm. That's a toughie for a guy like me. Our recessional was "Can You Picture That" by Dr. Teeth & The Electric Mayhem, does that count? When I visited her in Boston once, she sang "Rainbow Connection" to me from the backseat of my motorcycle. Is that it? I can name songs from our initial pubescent courtship (Billy Joel, Rod Stewards "You're in my Soul". . . ), from our whirlwind engagement (Lots of Dr. John, for some reason) and every moment from then to now.
What would AK say? I Just asked:
Me: Honey do we have a song?
AK: Nnnnnnnnot that I can think of.
See #24. We're from way farther apart than Mars & Venus.

27. What did you dance your first dance to?
No dancing, not in the budget. We took some line dancing lessons once. I'd love to do ballroom & swing. But my goddess is not hindered by the restrictive impediments of rhythm & coordination. :)

8. Describe your wedding dress:
We wore those British tux's with scarves and tails. We looked like cockroaches, every one of us. I'm not a dress expert, she should tell the story, but I know the dress cost WAY too little to make her look so beautiful. I think it started as a bridesmaid dress? The alterations lady had her whole house burn down, but the firemen saved her dress, so there you go so we must be written in the stars.

29. What kind of flowers did you have at your wedding?
Flowerry ones. Too heavy to hold while kissing.

30. Are your wedding bands engraved?
See #7. The date and from an E.E. Cummings poem: "Love is the every only God"

31. How old were you when you got married?
I was 25, AK had just turned 27.

Your turn!

How I Spent My Dude-a-Palooza

2007-04-03T10:28:00.000-04:00

First, I bit the bullet and bought a new camcorder/video editing software package. The reason was that our twins are STILL cute, and while The Cute Stage lasts a little longer with identical twins, it does end eventually. We have WAY more video of Max in his cute stage, and every other stage, than we have of the twins. My own slow realization (see: last 2 years transition from Corporate Man to Work From/Stay at Home Dad) that THIS is the time of my life, that my time will NEVER be more valuable than now, has reminded me that I'll want to look back on this time later when my time is less valuable, when my kids are more independent.

Another reason to bite this particular bullet is that I've always LOVED editing video into little movies. You may have heard the undergroud buzz about "Naked Stunt Sunday" or "The HERC Tape" or "Alabama Cart Surfing"? Well these were done WAY back in the day on my brother's computer in MO, when there was no such thing as consumer editing software or computers. That was about 7 years ago. Then about 4 or 5 years ago, I bought the consumer software (no longer needing a high-powered computer) and tried to edit video again. This was a nightmare, and had the physical & emotional effect of closing a garage door on top of my cranium. Repeatedly. The problem was that I had used pro-level software before, and THAT was not yet available to consumers. So the software was dumbed-down and gave me none of the flexibility or creative freedom I loved about editing video into little movies.

I re-entered the market cautiously and with a looming sense of dread for these reasons. My awful expectations were satisfied, when, the night after buying a new DVD Camcorder (I'd spent 1.5 days straight researching the purchase), I learned that you CAN'T EDIT VIDEO FROM A DVD CAMCORDER! Can you believe it? It's a dirty little secret. You can film stuff, edit it a little in the camera, then finalize it with DVD menus and stuff, and POW you can pop it right into your DVD player & watch it on your TV. If that's what you want, go get one they're cool. But if like me you want to edit the video in another program, you'll have to do backdoor workaround things tantamount to outsmarting the (very smart) DVD Camcorder Designers Guild of Japan.

This led to me spending 2 hours in Circuit City, re-researching the re-purchase, deciding if I should go up a notch to hard-drive camcorder or down a notch to Mini-DV. I'd already spent a chunk of my education fund, didn't want to spend more, so we now have a Mini-DV Camcorder. Oh, and one half of those 2 hours was spent convincing the salesperson that the Dirty Little Secret of DVD Camcorders was truly true. She finally believed me when I took her to a computer and made her Google "handycam dvd editing".

Wow. I really made that long story long didn't I? Sorry. The whole IDEA was twofold. Yes, we needed to capture more of these magical moments for posterity. And? Our boys? They'd LOVE to act up and act out and make little movies! The idea came while I was in CA to help Mom, and I spent some time with an old theater friend. We only see each other every few years, but when we get together (same thing with LV Ben. U out there LV Ben?) I. Laugh. So. Hard. I turn into a goofy, punchy, well, . . . theater guy. I turn into the person I started as. I reflected on this, between belly-aching bouts of laughter, and thought it actually sad that I'm never like that around anyone else. Why? Because my KIDS WOULD LOVE ME THIS WAY! I am goofy. I speak in character voices and I see the world through Funnyglasses.

So when I pondered on how to make this Daddy/Max Dude-a-Palooza a very special one, the way was clear. Max and Daddy were going to make a movie :). We plotted and planned while I got to know all the new doo-dads and software and instruction manuals. He had GREAT plans (I told him he could be the next Spielberg or John Woo, he said he wanted to be like Spike Jonze) and I had to keep reassuring him that we would make MANY movies. No, we don't have to do them all at once, and actually we should start simple so we can learn how the doo-dads all work.

So except for Sunday, which was rainy and gloomy and lazy, when we only went bowling and watched a lot of movies. . . . this is how I spent my Dude-a-Palooza:

To recap (WILL I EVER GET TO IT???), we've see the original Sesame Street masterpiece with it's pre-Floyd muppet and some Fezoobs. We've seen the brilliant Sandra Bullock's version from Muppets Tonight. We've even seen Brak and Space Ghost riff on this timeless masterpiece. With all respect to Cake (the band. Though the desert rocks as well) , and the entire "For The Kids" album (one of our family car standbys for long trips) . . .

The video quality is weak here, I'll have to learn how to make things look better on Google Video & YouTube. It'll look better next time!

Big Fat Wednesday

2007-03-28T23:05:00.000-04:00

. . .that's what landed on me. So I'm a little pizz to tha' izzooped just now.

But last night was Max's second Pinecar Derby & I wanted to share the event. If you remember from last year, we did a lot of designing and pretty paint work on his car, but didn't have a scale to tune it with. So his pretty car ended up looking like it had a lead hemmorhoid and some other afterthought pieces of weight stuck to it. In his small Cub Scouts group (where we're very tepid on the whole competition thing. . .but still. . . Daddy's spent the last few years racing toy cars every weekend . . . ) last year he came in 3rd overall.

This year, I dropped the planning/designing ball pretty heinously, so we both spent much effort in the 24 hours leading up to the race to get himself a racecar built! He chose to go with a much simpler design this year, and that allowed us to focus more on the tuning. I did all the homework and guess what? There are a LOT of things you can do to make those things go fast! It was fun, kind of like RC racing but at a miniscule fraction of the cost. In truth, we didn't have time to do most of the (BSA-approved and completely legal of course!) hop-ups.

But in early practice runs, his car was straight-out slaughtering the meek who were fool enough to challenge him (in a very positive, sportsmanlike Boyscouts of America-approved way of course). So Daddy had his completely legal and sportsmanline hopes up :) Once racing commenced he worked his way through the braket, it was a much larger group this year. It came down to the the final race for the winner, between himself and the Bishop's boy. And all testosterone aside, it really didn't matter at that point, he was so high from the winning he got to do already and we'd had our father/son bonding & building already. So ANYway. . . . it was a TIE!!! Hoo, the suspense. They went down the track again, switching tracks this time, and Max's car lost by a half-a-carlength for a second overall. Everyone got "awards", and a patch, so no trophies. But Max did get to wait until second to last to get his. And even though the car didn't meet my exacting aesthetic standards, kids loved the LEGO bits and a couple of Dad's commented that it was a clean build.

OK, chest fully puffed now, making. . . hard. . . to . . .type . . .can't see. . . screen . . . under chest. Here are pix of the event. Last years car, the new car "Mad Max II", his humble medal ceremony (with the Mormon Boy Scout equivalent of trophy girls), and another shot that I thought accurately captured the excitement that is PINEWOOD DERBY!

Plans are underway for Dude-A-Palooza FIVE this weekend! AK will be going to go be a groupie for her favorite knitting blog rock star, The Yarn Harlot. She'll meet with her fellow knit groupies, who happen to be her doting aunts, so she's bringing Evil's Twin Minions of Chaos for them to dote on. With only a 10 year old and a 37 year old dude in this particular palooza, we may try to do some ambitious paloozing. Stay tuned. . .

What You Learn When You Go Bowling

2007-03-24T17:53:00.000-04:00

. . . at The Super Modern Mega Video Bowling Entertainment Center for the Terminally Short Attention Spanned:

-Melissa Etheridge, Stevie Nicks and Sheryl Crow are still hot. They show videos, see, at the bowling alley. This makes it very difficult for 10 year old boys to focus on bowling, but Max and I did alright on our little father-son afternoon. The videos are aimed at my generation, too, so if it's not from the 80/90s it's often modern works by those artists. Last time we were there I got to show Max The Commodores in their full spaceship-disco glory! He remembered that on the way there today, said about them "they seemed to be having fun".
-Despite the advances in adding bright flashy video clips and giant LCD screens to our modern bowling experience, blowling alley food is as toxic as ever. We should have learned our lesson last time, after the microwaved nachos that congealed into one solid nacho-rock. But no, I wanted to make our 2 games last as long as possible, so we perused the menu & chose quesadillas. Ouch. See what they did was take yesterdays nacho-rocks, and re-soften them with today's grease, and fold it up in day-before-yesterday's tortillas (if the tortilla is stale enough, you don't have to grill it to make it stiff).
-Many of the Bowling Manners my father passed on to me have been lost to the ages. I learned that you were to generally keep to your lane for seating/stuff stowage. I learned that You waited until each lane beside you had bowled, so you didn't run up to the lane distracting them. Now of course sometimes you need to make exceptions, as was our case, with the entire Penn State Korean American Giggling & High-Fiving Club in the lane next to ours. So we didn't mind their stuff overflowing into our stuff. But we did have to excuse our way to our lane most times & darned if I didn't get plowed by a Giggletractor or a HighFiveosaurus on my way up the lane a few times.
-Sometimes, watching the videos, you find the next. .

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Sunday Well, it's Puppet Thing, but that counts. Especially if you've seen Being John Malkovich. It might be old-hat, as you know I don't find the cool things until they're 4-5 years past their drink-by date. But Max & I sure got a kick out of it . . .

Raisin Toots and The Poodle Stigma

2007-03-24T01:22:00.000-04:00

Emily The Horsepoodle ate half a pound of organic raisins this morning. So now we have toxic green clouds lingering around the house like deadly land mines. And you know how even the mildest doggy toots smell raunchy and wrong? Because they came from a foreign intestine? From a whole 'nother species? Well these poodle toots will make a tattooed sailor scream like a little girl. But only for a moment -- the tattooed sailor will asphyxiate and collapse into a trembling, poisoned puddle of former human in only about 20 seconds.

And why is it that a real, honest-to-goodness not-a-girlyman Man cannot admit that he owns a poodle? At least not without qualifying it or making some explanation? So people won't think he's kinky or gay? Mostly this is not a concern for me. Heck I will freely admit right here that I'm all twinkle-toed since I found a DVD of the film (poorly adapted from the Broadway musical) "1776". It's not La Cage, but simply admitting KNOWLEDGE of a musical is enough to convince many men I've grown a vagina.

Well let it be known here and forever after than poodles are loyal, intelligent and wonderful family dogs. I don't HAVE to say it, because you're probably not a male with one eyebrow raised, slowly backing away from me, but I will say anyway that ours is a Standard Poodle and those are the original poodles so they haven't been bred for looks or miniaturized into yippy little nervous-around-the-hors d'ouvres dogs. Standard poodles are medium-to-large sized canines who will (ours will) take issue with any aggro dog at the dog park who picks a fight. But she'll be submissive and obedient for humans. I am not a pet person, but this poodle is turning me into a dog person, it's such a fine animal.

And she only ever has that look, the froofy Priscilla Queen of the Desert doggy look, for about a day and a half after she's been groomed. For the next 7-10 weeks our poodle resembles a Mongolian Camel from ""The Weeping Camel" much more than she does a poodle.

So there it is. I am a manly man, 6 feet, 3 inches tall, and I maintain a consistent panda-bear shape. And I own a poodle.

Twinkle's Muppets

2007-03-22T19:44:00.000-04:00

With many apologies to both of you who read this blog, I will now cease and desist with the apologies. And excuses. I'm just not so much the blogger lately :(

But.

The Muppets.

Must.

Go on. . . .

"Crucified for his WHAT?"

2007-03-10T11:59:00.000-05:00

"INSURRECTION, Mom. He was crucified for IN SUR RECTION!" This was Mom and I watching the Jesus' Tomb show last week, right before I giggled and insisted she wash the peanut butter out of her ears. Interesting show, which was followed by a counterpoint program that should have been a structured exchange of ideas & facts that were not covered in the pseudo-documentary. Instead it was a televized 6th grade playground brawl between relatively-to-very educated scientists, clergy and entertainers. It made me sad.

I'm in Concord, working to get Mom's place ready to put on the market, that's why not so much with the blogging. And watching TV in the evenings has mostly reminded me why we don't buy dish or cable for our home. Although there have been some bright spots, and I suspect that if we didn't have the kids in the house it might be worth it to get service for a show or two. Especially if we could TIVO the show and skip the commercials, that would help a LOT. More than watching the same commercials 14 times in a one-hour span, it's the "Tonight at 11. . . ." news bits that fry my goose. In our culture more than any other, we are force-fed fear. All we get through the news and in our advertising is why we should be afraid and what we should be afraid of. How do you innoculate a child against that?

Anyway, some highlights I've witnessed in TV land this week:
-History Channel: I like documentaries, and mixed in with the half-reality shows are some real interesting & fun documentaries. The night before "300" came out they had a documentary on the battle with lots of facts & backstory that I know would make the film even more interesting.
-"House", a show about a group of emotionless but brillian doctors, led by a genius/jerk played by Hugh Laurie. I really could do without most of the show but the main character is something.
-I'm sure there are more worth-the-torture-of-commercials shows out there (though they can't touch "Firefly". . . *sniff*. . . ) maybe when kids are older & if my evenings are free & if I've run out of good films to watch and read all the books I want to read. . . .

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Saturday is, while truly a Muppet Thing this time, another testament to how un-hip I am. It features what was about to become my favorite real current still a songs-on-the-radio rock band, Weezer. But just like Firefly, I'm several years too late. Weezer was hip 8 years ago, their last radio song barely cracked the top 20 and was played on XM Kids more than anything else, and sure enough I think I read they're broken up now. I'd go buy a Weezer album, but it might make me cry to know that there will be no more. And I'm still not over the Firefly/Serenity heartbreak. . .

Going Home for Vacation

2007-02-23T15:46:00.000-05:00

I've been selling my RC racing stuff lately, figuring I'll step away from the hobby for the time being while still operating within the industry as a custom painter. The plan is for more of Lux Graphics' proceeds to go towards bills & debt reduction, and also it gives me about a day and a half more of Family Time every week. It's strange, given that I'm in the house all day, to say that I need more Family Time. But it's hard to separate work from family, so family time is never REALLY family time it's only at best a relative break from the work time. Since, when you work for yourself, it's ALWAYS work time.

For me, it feels like a vacation. My personal passion, spark of life and driving force have always been motorcycling. When we moved to LA I replaced that with the less expensive but equally consuming RC racing hobby and I never did turn down the intensity of my commitment. So it's been, unquestioningly, what I DO at least one day every weekend and for most of a day every week preparing for the races. New leaves are turning, there's wind under our wings and it's raining cheezy metaphores here so I feel free to close that chapter for now. As I always knew motorcycles wouldn't leave my life completely (I must say the itch is back . . ), perhaps I will come back to this, and I will continue to paint so I shouldn't miss my friends too much. But for now, it feels like a vacation every Saturday and I want to go do something very family-flavored on those days. And it also feels like a large monthly bill that just disappeared, so I can add to the mass of our debt snowball with a much more expeditious rate of contributiontude.

And AK told me today that with every bit of RC stuff I sell on Ebay, she feels me coming home. Now I should qualify that, if you've been reading here for the last 2-3 years you know I've been coming home for a long time. But still the journey tends to plod on, I lose track of my progress, and it's nice to be reminded a) I am on a path and b) it's popularly considered to be the right path for this woman's husband and these boys' father.

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Saturday is only slightly Muppetacious but it's in the spirit of our Muppet explorations. Muppets are the new Naked Mole Rat, you know. So we've seen the original, we've seen the Sandra Bullock revival, and now. . . .

I can't believe it's. . . sniff. . . OVERRRRRR!!!

2007-02-18T21:22:00.000-05:00

This is a post about Firefly. Firefly is a TV series from a few years ago, I think it was on FOX? I was completely oblivious to it's existence, being generally oblivious to TV in general for quite a while now. When the movie "Serenity" came out around a year or two ago I guess, I was aware that it was based on a TV series. And all I knew about the TV series was that Sarah/Poppins was VERY enthusiastic about it.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, when I decided Science Fiction was my next NETFLIX kick, and asked for every sciency or fictiony movie they recommended. Serenity was in there somewhere, and shoot I really liked that movie. Yes, it was like a TV show with a slightly bigger budget. But the writing was really something, it really drew you in to the characters and the plots. And it was a WESTERN IN SPACE!!! Who cares whether or not they pulled it off, what an idea. It sounds like one of the pitches in Robert Altman's "The Player": "OK, it's Pretty Woman. . .but it's in Vietnam! And it's funny. Tom Hanks & Gwynneth Paltrow. . . ".

So my interest was peaked. But that's all. Then Sheer Fate and her cousin Dumb Luck put the 4-disc DVD set of the whole TV series in my path! There was only one. And it was on the bottom shelf, where tall, relatively-handsome-and-unquestionably-nice-smelling-but-mostly-really-tall men like me seldom see the DVDs. And it only cost 20.00! That's a lot of painting background music for only 20.00 I thought, even if the show was doo doo. But this was not enough, no, those 4 skinny DVD cases had to earn their place on my crowded shelves.

So I contacted Sarah Poppins to see if maybe the TV series would be doo doo on account of it being so different from the movie. She did not hesitate to politely recommend that I run all red lights between here and Target to GET. THAT. DVD SET.

Did that. Watched DVD 1. Liked it. Gobbled up DVD 2. Very excited. Savored DVD 3, becoming increasingly concerned for the impending 4-ness of the set. Watched DVD 4 hitting PAUSE as often as I possibly could. Taking every opportunity to make it last just a little longer. Then I did NOT cry. But I wanted to. Because by now (even the movie was over years ago) it's abundantly clear that there will be. No. More. Firefly.

Every little bit of the show contains gems. Not the least of which is it's got RON GLASS in it! And you thought every member of the Barney Miller cast died 15 years ago. There are problems, like the fact that Joss Whedon has a LOTR, Star Wars-sized universe and plot in his head. So there are constantly references to stories that never get told. But SOMEhow, the fans and the producers got the movie made. How often does a TV series that didn't even survive a whole season get made into a MOVIE? The movie fulfills some of the promises the TV show made, not the least of which is the mystery of Kung Fu Christina Ricci.

Apparently I know very little about what makes a TV show succesful, since I loved this one so much and the TV exectutives hated it, putting every obstacle in it's path and cancelling it after I believe less than a season. They didn't even show the pilot first! Actually it makes perfect sense. I liked this, but the rest of the world did not (or was not given the opportunity to). While EVERY THING ELSE ON TV, i.e. the things the TV executives approved, I'm pretty sure is squid vomit.

I liked 6 Feet Under. But yeah, you've got your Muppets, your Firefly, your Alan Ball HBO series. . . . and your squid vomit.

Otherwise, 'twas a damn peaceful weekend. Snow and cavedwelling Hults dogs. Leaving the cave only for sustenance hunting & gathering. Knitting, reading, crossing things off of Lux's to-do list. I hope y'all had good weekends out in the blogosphere :)

They are all dancing.

2007-02-13T19:06:00.000-05:00

Ben, Milo, Max and the I-Dog. The school district has declared tomorrow a SNOW DAY, so we are listening to a kids rock-like song we all love called "Snow Day". Ben and Milo are not so much with the knowing of the words, so they are chanting "na na na na na na na - - - - SNOW DAY!!!". And they are jofully circling/jumping on their new DBX Phantom Inflatable Sled: Juvenile Spine-Tweaker Special Edition.

For all of these reasons I really really and truly hope against all hope that this nasty stomach flu I've got subsides by tomorrow. This is the most snow/the best sledding PA has had since 2003 I hear. I'd hate to spend the day napping and sitting on the potty like today.

Sarah Poppins has been good enough to translate our Cycloptic German Whitney Singing Soccer Watching Beer Drinking Muppet Video. . .

"Bernie and Ert:

Oh, hey, Ert, I didn't hear you come in.

How could you with all that howling? You know I need you to be quiet because I was hit by a semi-truck yesterday when I went on a beer run. The doctor said I need absolute quiet.

Oh, no problem, Ert, I'll find something else to do.

____________

Oh, hey, Ert, I didn't hear you come in. I thought you were sleeping.

How can I with this horrible, loud music? I need rest. A lot of rest. I have a terrible headache.

Right, right, Ert. I'll do something else.

___________

Oh, hey, Ert, I didn't hear you come in. Do you want to watch soccer with me?

No, I want quiet, Quiet, QUIET.

Oh, ok, good, Ert. I'll do something you cannot complain about, guaranteed.

Yeah? I'm sure, Bernie. I'm alive with curiousity.

(tapes his mouth.) And if that doesn't fit, let me know.

Muchos gratuitous thankage to the Poppinator and her Mennonite upbringing! It's interesting. Though there are many questions left unanswered. Like what about that lewd photo on the wall??? She has also given me wise counsel on whether or not to buy the sale-priced "Firefly" series DVD set. I hope the one left for $20.00 is still at Target whenever my stomach decides to stay rightside out and I return. I really really liked the movie "Serenity" what with the beautiful Kung-Fu Christina Ricci character and the western-movie-in-space theme.

Also on my recent favorites list from Netflix list: "V For Vendetta" and "Brazil". I only ever saw Brazil way back when I was very young and I wanted it to be like another Monty Python movie. While some of that humor is in there, I appreciate it now as perhaps THE quintessential Terry Gilliam film and I also agree with his "Beaurocracy is The Shape of Evil" theme. Douglas Adams felt the same way. Both spent a great deal of time in England, maybe it's more of a problem over there. I personally can relate to this theme because I have spent my share of time in The California Department of Motor Vehicles offices. I also enjoyed re-renting Priscilla Queen of The Desert. Remember my problem with expecting Hugo Weaving to bust into an ABBA song in all of his roles? ABBA-singing Elf King? ABBA-Singing Matrix Bad Guy? Well unfortunately I watched "V" right after Priscilla (ABBA-singing dark masked vigilante hero). And now it's worse, I see Terrence Stamp (the older transvestite) EVERYWHERE and now expect him to love the nightlife and got to boogie as well.

Honey? When you walk into the workshop and see me giggling to myself uncontrollably? This is likely the cause. You'll probably see Hugo Weaving or Terrence Stamp on the TV screen. . . .

AK's parents are here, and that's a good thing. Good visit. Damn shame about the fact that we are all either in the throes of stomach flu, getting over stomach flu or about to have the stomach flu. Milo threw up ALL OVER the back seat of their rental car today :(. WELCOME TO BEAUTIFUL CENTRAL PA!

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Wednesday is again, I'm sorry, not a muppet thing at all. It's a stroll down memory lane for people like me, of-a-certain-age. May it remind you of the those you've forgotten: Roscoe P. Coltrane, Flash the Basset Hound, and Cooter.

And also know this charming bit of trivia: The theme song is sung by the wonderful Waylon Jennings, and the very first frames of film we saw every week (I don't remember what night it was on, I think it was a weeknight) were his hands playing the opening notes on his guitar. Well, if you went and bought the Waylon Jennings album and listened the whole song, you'd learn that the very next verse he sings (after the theme ends), is an apology to his mother for the fact that no one ever saw his face. Just his hands.

Dy's blog, which I will put in my sidebar as soon as I get my sidebar together, has a game where we show a photo of ourselves as-we-really-are or as-we-feel-most-of-the-time. You know, not necesarily a good photo of yourself, but one that shows you most accurately in the real world. So go do that, that's a fun thing to do. I'll scan my hard drive as well.

That's all I can think of now :/

Sitting in a la la. Waiting for my ya ya. Uhunh.

2007-02-07T17:08:00.000-05:00

Well, I don’t know what that song was about. But if by “la la” he meant “Ford dealership” and by “ya ya” he meant “Ford Expedition’s brakes to be repaired” then I know exactly how he felt.

I’ve got a package to mail to client a. I’ve got a package to hand-deliver to client b. I’ve got 2 more NASCARs to paint (and decal, and mount) for client c. And if for some reason I’m not painting for client c I really should be prepping client d’s job or painting the OTHER stuff (not what I need to deliver today) that belongs to client b. But I can’t paint that stuff until I have client b’s original body in front of me. Which is ludicrous because of the 264 bodies I’ve painted, I’ve taken photos of 262, and the missing 2 both belong to client b. I hope to pick the original bodies up from him when I hand deliver the above-mentioned package. Which I can’t do. Because I’m sitting in a la la and waiting for my ya ya and typing on my lap’ya to pass the time’la and trying to keep from obsess’ya about the above’la.

Mr. Mouseyface Report I personally have yet to hear from any of Mr. Mouseyface’s cousins, though Dr. J’s reminder about Hanta virus has me feeling less humane about the Mouseyface family. And his un-told story about cats with sticky traps on their paws has me both giggly and curious. How did you get them off? Were you laughing or crying?

Illicit Scooter Behavior Beth I’m afraid that Al Ludington has only ever seen “Naked Stunt Sunday” on video. And due to him valuing his cushy contract position with American Honda h has not participated in or in any way been associated with any of our two-wheeled shenanigans. Indeed, he probably wouldn’t know me from Adam unless you said the words “Naked Stunt Sunday”. And you know, Adam was naked too so there’s all the more reason for confusion. If we should be inspired, however, to create anymore artistic films like NSS – I know who owns Ben Bostrom’s custom tribal-painted pit scooter!

Today’s Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Thursday is a true gem for collectors of Muppet Things and muppet trivia. Where else can you go, and find a video clip of one-eyed muppets, speaking (I believe) German, drinking beer, signing Whitney Houston and watching football on the telly? Indeed. Where. Else. Can. You. Go? I have no idea where or how I found this, but I’m glad I kept it.. . .

And I bet it’s going to get EVEN BETTER! Because, Twinkle, don’t you and/or your sister speak German? PLEASE tell us what the heck they’re saying and whether or not there is any explanation as to what kind of TV show they are on. And why. And did someone think that giving them only one eye would avoid copyright violation litigation?

Muppet Trivia: Did you know that Ernie & Bert were modeled after an orange and a bananna?

Well I liked the Rock Paper Scissors commercial.

2007-02-05T15:42:00.000-05:00

At the end, when the guy walks by and says "low five. . . ", that got me. A close second is the lions saying Carne Asada like Ricardo Montalban. Did you notice that Ricardo Montalban does the voice over for the (name of whatever Taco Bell food the commercial is for)?

Which was your favorite?

We actually missed the whole first half of the game. It was a miracle that we saw any of it, really, since it was on the ONE channel our rabbit ears pick up clearly. Watching it on local actual AIR waves meant that our $2.6 million commercials were mixed in with the local Chevy dealer selling cars to aliens who came to Earth because of his huge selection of Chevys. We caught the last part of Prince, though, and I was proud to be a Closet Prince Fan. Well, I'm not that closet but I am a VERY big fan. Especially the pre-contract dispute years. I love pretty much everything up to Graffiti Bridge, & a little of Diamonds & Pearls, but it got all wonky after that. It was good to see him entertaining old-school even if his guitar fingers don't move like they used to.

FOOD My racing associate Lunchbox was telling me how Florida Sweet Tea had ruined him for tea. They make it special down there, something about hot or cold brewing or lacing it with methamphetamine or something. But he was frustrated because he really used to like iced tea in general but now whenever he gets it it only reminds him of what it could be. I am TOTALLY the same with corn. Living in MN I ate REALLY FRESH sweet corn, that had been steamed, out of the bed of an old pickup, at Plainview's Corn on The Cob Days festival -- and nothing's been the same since. It was so sweet, and juicy/succulent, like you never knew corn could be. I'm told it's to do with freshness, than the sugar starts to break down the second the corn is picked and it's all downhill from there. In any case, it's not just that corn tastes mediocre to me now. I actually get ANGRY when I eat corn! I always feel like you do when you stub your toe on the same piece of furniture you've stubbed it on for years. DOH! I KNEW that was there, why did I kick it??? For Alaska it's California and Avacadoes. She kicks herself every time she buys an avacado because, of course, she knew better. What food has ruined food for you?

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Tuesday, again, is not technically a Muppet Thing. But it does include a furry, muppet-like feature! Remember the halcyon days of Blues Clues? When Steve would take kids AND PARENTS along on his innocent yet insightful journeys of discovery? Well Steve then ventured out on his own and tried to start a musical career. I followed him for awhile through his website. But my occasional glances at who's playing on XM Top 20 On 20 never say "Steve", so it would appear he's not made it yet. About a year ago I checked the link and his site was down. Anyone seen Steve? On MTV7? Or whichever MTV actually shows music these days? Or seen him in Branson, MO? Or seen him in a soup line at a homeless shelter?

Back then, he posted some of his musical stuff and some of his weird just generally alternative quiet-guy humor stuff. This is only barely humorous, but like I said there is a muppet'ish feature to it. (The guy on camera is not Steve, that's one of Steve's New Totally Authentic Alternative Music Scene Friends. Steve is playing with the camera. . . . )

I have one of his music videos saved, and it's not bad actually. But it has a very hooky hook, so I'll save that for a day when I need to get it out of my head and get it stuck in all of your heads.

Speaking of getting songs stuck in heads, I vote that a couple of people change the names of their blogs. For the simple reason that the name of the link in my Internet Explorer Favorites list invariably get's a song stuck in my head:
Twinkle's "There She Goes"
Alaska's "Faith" (because I get the Limp Bizkit version stuck, not the George Michaels version. Though that would be about as bad, wouldn't it though)
That's all, really. But MAN do I end up humming that Sixpence None The Richer song a lot. I don't have to visit Twinkle's blog, just click "Favorites" and see it there. However, upon consideration, Her Twinkness is excused because she showed me www.pandora.com. There I can go, plug in the name of some obscure band I like and find new music that sounds the same. Or I can listen while I paint and by rating the songs it picks, customize my own fantasy internet radio station.

Mr. Mouseyface Report Mr. Mouseyface has been a tenant here at La Maison de la House for quite a while. In the evenings, he munches on the veritable smorgasbord of twin droppings and dog leavings up in the kitchen. But in the daytime he passes his time by skittering around in the ceiling above AK's office. Much to AK's consternation. He has thus far eluded the stickytraps we've left in his favorite kitchen drawers. Indeed he has mocked them, by visiting them, pooping on & around them, then leaving them.

I understand that AK awoke to the sound of desperate Mr. Mouseyface thrashing in the drawer this morning. Yay! Not only was he caught, but he was disposed of. All before I so much as woke up. Go Mommy, go Mommy, with 'ya bad self, it's ya berfday. Our neighbor Jilla Tha Killa, of Justice League fame. . .

The Justice League of Jill

. . . was concerned about the humanity or inhumanity of the traps we used for Mr. Mouseyface. I'd like to take this opportunity to reassure her that there is a verrrrrrry good chance that Mr. Mouseyface has about 34 cousins cohabitating here at La Maison. And each one of them is verrrrrry likely living a fat, well fed and super-humane little Mr. Mouseyface life. :)

Aaron Weasel in answer to your comment query, no I've never dismounted a scooter in that particular fashion. I have exited in an equally dramatic way, however. It was off the rear, not over the front. And it was in Daytona. And it was behind a supermarket. Until the police came. And if I ever get around to digitizing the 8mm video I'll post it here. After the statute of limitations expires.

Oh. I am SO pooping at McCulloughs tomorrow.

2007-02-02T20:47:00.000-05:00

We had an absolutely fabulous Family Date tonight. Max has been a little lost lately (no specific way, just generally. In most ways a boy can be lost -- he is) and this has had AK and I scratching our heads in parental quizzitude. AK decreed, in part thanks to her being paid *gulp* EARLY on some invoices (perhaps a first in her long freelance career), that we would be having a Family Date tonight. First we went bowling, and that was just perfect. Different, fun, but not too long. Max made great strides from his Pinball Using The Bumpers technique. Milo proved once again that he is the family's very best dancer (why even wait for the ball to hit the pins? Dance NOW!). And Ben was able to actually slow the hands of time, since he insisted on the run-and-drop bowling technique over the bowling-ball-ramp bowling technique. It. Took. So. Long. For Ben's ball to reach the pins. It was truly surreal.

That was followed by a trip to Highway Pizza, a local establishment that offers pizza just a cut above the usual in a cozy-but-kid-friendly atmosphere. Too often "Kid Friendly" is synonymous with "Atmosphere Like a Prison Cafeteria", and this place manages to pull it off. Feeding 5 people at a pizza place is tricky. It's not as simple as one drink, one entree each, nooooo. One must balance the pizza likes and dislikes of different factions within the five. And one must consider that pizza takes a while to cook, especially on a busy Friday night, and the coloring pages they gave Ben & Milo were likely to hold their attention for all of 7.26 milliseconds. Appetizers? Well now you've got to balance not only the volume of appetizer but again the flavors and various Hults preferences! AK would have had this situation well in hand, but she was alas trying to knit during Menu Management. So her important questions to me regarding what we should whom and how much had very clear and consise and businesslike beginnings. Then they trailed off into mumble mumble knit knit knit. When I saw that she was trying hard (in the very lucid beginnings of her thoughts. . . ) to take my own preferences into consideration I made it clear that -- very unusually -- I really wasn't very picky tonight. I told her I didn't need a Meat Special, didn't need anything heavy or substantial, etc. . .While I thought this clarification would help, her vague look of pre-panic told me that openness and flexibility were not helping her to narrow down the choices or make an authoritative ordering decision for us.

Ben had just announced to the restaurant's patrons with clear enunciation and Shakespearian voice projection that he had to PEEEEEE. On my leave, I recommended that she have it figured out by the time we return, and that my only criteria was this: I don't want to poop at McCulloughs. Her giggle had one of it's eyebrows raised in a half-quizzical and half-concerned way, so I explained that McCulloughs (the track we race at near Pittsburgh on Saturdays) has only a porta potty. And this time of year you use either a slippery frozen porta potty or a slushy muddy porta potty. It's a good 25 minutes from any other civilization, so we must all check our bowel status Saturday mornings as we drive by the BP station at the freeway offramp. I don't know about the rest of the chain, but at this particular station BP stands for Big Poop. We who drive 3 hours to McCulloughs every Saturday morning have conditioned ourselves to be mindful of our intake the night before raceday, and I was simply sharing my menu selection criteria. Not too greasy, not too much, Daddy's good :).

She handled it, I was assured on our return. I was also informed by Milo that it was his turn to pee so I'd be escorting him next. What is so FUN about peeing in strange bathrooms that every boy must do so almost immediately whenever we arrive anywhere? I trusted that indeed it was handled, the Hults Family Menu Management. Then the calamari arrived along with the Non-Vegetarian Monster Jumbo Nacho Platter Appetizer Special. Feeling relatively satiated after the nachos -- when indeed I should only have been appetized -- I was a little alarmed when the boys' Meatza Pizza Greaseola pizza arrived, followed by AK's own little veggie pizza thing and my own personal Vodka-Sauce Croissant-Crusted Proscuitto Delight. In half-pleased and half-concerned resignation I uttered the blog's title.

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Saturday is not a Muppet Thing at all and for this I apologize. I have some more good Muppet Things on my hard drive and there are some wonderful Muppet Things I've found on the various video hosting sites. I look forward to sharing them all with you.

No, this is something I've saved for awhile now. It's a Motorcycle Thing. Yes, I know I'm on a break from that part of me for awhile but this is like a wonderful trophy that I can show off. See, most of my motorcycle friends hold true talent and have REAL trophies to show people. I don't have those. No, my off-road riding buddies call me "Crash" often times and my on-road riding buddies call me. . . well they call me Chris but if asked they'll tell you Chris is fun at a party but he doesn't win any races. What I have is this wonderful piece of film from the opening credits of a French film called "Taxi". My friend and I had just attended a semi-legal race/gathering of large people on small motorcycles & scooters on downtown Chicago's Goose Island. Much fun was had, the Hasty Bananas Mini Racing team was well represented and had several podium finishes. None were by me (see above) but I did exhibit some aggressive racing maneuvers for a large man on a highly modified 50cc scooter. My good riding friend sent me this bit of film, and said "Chris, this made me think of you".

No greater compliment has ever been paid to my meager but enthusiastic riding skills. . .

Gobs of Muppets

2007-01-30T10:52:00.000-05:00

Well. While I can't relate, my homeland has no native recipes that are often misnomerated by immigrants, I do have a deep respect for the attachment my new Pennsylvanian neighbors have to their gobs. I had no idea I would inspire such emotion, I just thought AK's statement was funny and had to give a little context :). SIL-K, I am both honored and apologetic that I inspired you to break your lurkish silence. But know that your insights are always welcome here. And I can assure you -- due to my inconsistent posting over the past year or so -- that there's not a lot of people picking up what we're putting down here anymore. If a dog barks on the internet, does it make a noise?

SIL-K you may also have the distinction of being the only reader who's ever BEEN through Shelocta. It's on 422 between Kitanning and Indiana, we often stop there on our way home from Sarver to partake of the Unfortunately Not a Sheetz Convenience Store's internal Subway shop.

AK can relate to the Pennsylvanian Gob phenomenon. She told me it used to make her hairs stand on end when, working at Friendly's in Ohio, people would refer to chocolate sprinkles as "chocoloate sprinkles". Apparently, they are actually called "Jimmies".

Today's Daily Muppet Thing of The Day for Tuesday is a gem from I don't know when. It's Kermit the Frog appearing on The Jon Stewart show, and it would seem that it's post-Muppet Show and pre-Muppets Tonight. It's obviously post-Jim Henson, Kermit's voice is the new Kermit's voice. But since I can't share with you the entirety of the Muppet Show First Season DVDs, I'll share this. Because while it's not Jim Henson, this late-night Kermit does show some of the snarkiness, attitude and grown-up appeal Kermit had in the beginning. Over time Kermit became more kid friendly, his role on the Muppet Show changed, and ultimately he was (I believe) a vessel to share the aging Jim Henson's philosophies and wisdom. These are not bad things, but as a grown up watching the original Muppet Show shows Kermit appealed to me like he hadn't before and I thought that was wonderful too.