Category: Uncategorized

There’s nothing quite as refreshing as a good night’s sleep. One thing I always seem to struggle with is that transitional period between slumber and awake. During this time it’s not advisable for me to attempt any tedious tactile tasks like opening the plastic bag liner of a new box of cereal. For some reason my hands and fingers are drained of all the strength and dexterity necessary to begin this simple breakfast routine. I usually opt for the scissors simply because I’d rather not take the chance of destroying the bag. Cereal doesn’t taste quite as good when you have to scoop it off the floor.

I’m amazed at the level of detail some artists put into their work. I know many times I end up overworking a piece in an effort to capture all the details I see. In fact, it’s more of a challenge for me to keep my drawings more simplistic and spontaneous. Overall I think most artists share this appreciation for the tiniest details, whether or not they actually incorporate them into their work. I think the biggest downside to the critical eye is it doesn’t go away when you’re not doing art. Suddenly the easiest, most superficial decisions become an exercise in neurotic obsession.

Last night our oldest son asked why we don’t have a nice big flat screen ‘like everyone else’. My wife simply told him that our television is perfectly fine and that buying a new HD flat screen would require more investments that we don’t want to make at this point. That being said, we can both certainly relate to where he’s coming from. We’re looking forward to that day, too, but my wife’s right. There is nothing wrong with our current television. It’s just not as wide and much bulkier than a sleek flat screen. It looks dated now, but fourteen years ago, this television was state-of-the-art. I couldn’t help but think about one of the televisions we had at home when I was growing up.

Not many kids can boast the fact that they owned a television that their dad built, but we did. It was a huge Heathkit console television that owned it’s space on the floor. For all intents and purposes it was furniture. Yes, back then, we liked our tv’s with rich, hardwood surrounds, tweed speaker covers and brass hardware and we didn’t need remotes because you had only four channels to surf (the one Dad built had a very futuristic four button channel switcher, but the channels were never in the same order). If you didn’t find something to watch you simply turned it off. Cartoons were on before and after school for a couple hours or Saturday morning, not 24/7 like today.

For better reception we dug out the “rabbit ears” and wrapped the antennae ends with aluminum foil (to this day, I’m not sure what this did to improve the reception). I never remembered a VCR being hooked up to that beast but we certainly watched it ’til it could be watched no more.

In the final days we were having to open the console door and tweak the V-HOLD dial to keep from losing the picture to static and lines. Viewing ceased to be entertaining when this process necessitated that you move no further than arm’s length away because you had to do it every couple minutes. Who knows, my nearsightedness may have been preventable.

I don’t think we’ll get to that point with our current television, but it’s always fun to share an ‘uphill both ways’ story of our ‘difficult’ childhoods to the kids to make them appreciate what they have. Did I mention our set has PIP?

My youngest had his first soccer game this weekend and his team won. And, so did the other team. In fact, they don’t even keep score. It would seem that eight-year-olds are much too young and sensitive to handle the stress of competitive sports. I realize it’s important to teach kids the skills of the game and the importance of playing fair, but when you eliminate competition by telling them the goals don’t count, what’s their motivation? I’m sorry but socialist sports are not exciting to watch. The last time I checked we live in a capitalist country, where competition is an economic reality and sports fans like victories. Even if little Johnny feels bad that he’s not as good as little Billy. I despise the fact that my kids are part of the ‘blue ribbon’ generation where everybody wins. Losing may stink but it also builds a winner.

Technology has certainly changed the way we communicate with one another (just ask the USPS), so it should come as no surprise that yesterday’s unsolicited junk mail is today’s spam email. Fortunately a lot of these emails never see the light of day thanks to my spam filter, but occasionally some messages slip through.

No matter how many times that poor soul from Nigeria sends the message regarding a large sum of money, I’m still not biting. Nor will I be giving my username and password to validate my corporate email address to a sender I’ve never heard of. I’m not interested in getting cheap pharmaceuticals even if you spell *v_I_a_G_r_a* in that oh-so-clever spam-filter-dodging way. Sorry, but I won’t be sending you my account number because my Bank of the West account is not overdrawn. How do I know this? Because I DON’T have a Bank of the West account. And, no, I won’t be forwarding the Bill Gates Microsoft chain email so I can get some money, even if your close friend is a lawyer and says it’s legit.

The amount of spam that fills our inboxes is proof of one thing: SOMEONE is actually responding to and forwarding these emails giving the spammers a return on their investment. Not only have innocent (but gullible) individuals lost their money, privacy or identity to greedy spammers, but they may even end up with a computer virus that attacks and destroys their computers. So, please don’t take it personally if I don’t read and push through that email forward that you found so interesting.

Today, after three busy months of relatively carefree bliss, our boys reluctantly returned to school. So now our household has a sixth grader, a second grader and a teacher who still gets that pit in his stomach when August ‘Back to School’ season comes around.

Personally I think the infamous ‘Back to School’ sales are a retail gimmick designed to entice parents to spend more money after the summer sales dip. It may boost the third quarter sales leading into Christmas but it only depresses the kids who want summer to never end. Fulfilling those supply lists every year guarantees our stash of unused college-ruled notebooks and unsharpened number two pencils will never be exhausted. I think I could make an interesting sculpture out of our partially used glue stick inventory.

The big ‘must have’ back to school item when I was in sixth grade had to be the Trapper Keeper. I don’t even know if they make them anymore, but looking back it’s ridiculous to think that us kids were getting all hyped up over a three ring binder with a velcro flap. I guess it was kind of cool. After all, it DID have two pockets and punched folders! It wasn’t long before the blank colorful outsides of the Trapper Keeper sold out to merchandisers of kids’ toys, cartoons, movies and television shows. Soon, it became more difficult to get your hands on just a ‘plain’ one which frustrated me to no end. (I was no sell out!) Besides, I preferred not to advertise to my entire school that I, too, watched and loved Scooby Doo in sixth grade.

After the initial rush for school supplies subsided you could always find heavily discounted Trapper Keepers in the bargain bins. I felt sorry for those boys whose parents cashed in on these deals and ended up spending their entire year carrying around a Trapper Keeper emblazoned with a cute trio of kittens playing with a ball of yarn or a mythical unicorn majestically perched in a rainbow-filled sky. My parents were very practical and budget-conscious people but even they wouldn’t subject me to such ridicule.

My oldest son just started his second year of midget football and has been struggling through practices. Not so much because he is out of shape but because his pants don’t fit. Running wind sprints is difficult when your pants slide down to fit more like a gunny sack in a potato race. We determined that the problem isn’t the size of the pants, but the fact that the ‘belt’ really isn’t a belt because it doesn’t loop through the pants around the waist. Instead the two ends, each about six inches long, are sewn to the front. Essentially the best he can do is cinch his pants. Poor kid. He’s usually too big for his britches. I think we’ll be cocooning his trousers up with athletic tape tonight.

Much to our chagrin, the envelope-pushing, foul-mouthed white rapper, Eminem has been getting plenty of airplay lately. It seems standard these days for one musician to team up and work collaboratively with another (they must split royalties and make more or something) and Marshall Mathers is no different. With compilations featuring the likes of Rhianna, Hayley Williams, Little Wayne and Elton John(?) it seems Slim Shady’s been everywhere. The worst part is my eleven-year-old has his ears on. Even though they blank out the expletives on the radio, my kid knows how to fill in the blanks. I have to admit I’m poor at screening songs because I’m not listening to the lyrics, so when some of the garbage comes on the radio I find myself humming along to it. Thank goodness my wife is there to help act as a filter.

I’ve got absolutely nothing against personal expression but I think the commission should slap down some guidelines with regard to a player’s hair length in the NFL. Sorry guys, but those hippie dreads make you look like a dirty mop wearing a helmet. I would think that aside from looking ridiculous, it would slow these rushers down considerably. If that isn’t enough of a reason to Bic it, according to NFL officials it’s considered fair game to hair pull these ‘long hairs’ to bring them down. I say it’s time to fine these ‘bad’ boys and send them to MasterCuts. This means you Randy Moss, Larry Fitzgerald, Troy Polamalu, Chris Johnson, Devin Hester, Steven Jackson, Roddy White, Sidney Rice…

Without fail there are a number of meals that one of our boys loves and the other hates. Still other meals that we may find delicious, they both find disgusting. And, yes, there are even some that they both beg for that we’re not crazy about. Regardless of how the ‘finicky’ formula falls, the cook always seems to have the toughest critics. Naturally when we stumble upon a winning meal, where everyone is in agreement, we’re sure to prepare it more often. Such is the case with BLTs. This simple sandwich is a hands-down favorite in our household. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that ANY meal prepared with bacon will be given top consideration for all-time favorite dish by our boys.