Origins of Man

Tomorrow I get to be a handsome, svelte, well-groomed, successful, tan, enviable man… relatively speaking, of course.

It is that time of year again. It is gaming convention time.

Other than going to Wal-Mart, nothing makes me feel better about myself than going to a gaming convention. There is nothing like being surrounded by a convention of pear-shaped, black clad, basement dwelling, scraggly bearded, long-oily-haired, balding, gaming geeks, to make yourself feel better about your life choices.

There I am a god! And it feels good. So tomorrow whilst in the midst of these light-fearing dorks, and while casually listening in on conversations about how the D-20 system has ruined pen & paper RPG’s, I will be resplendent in my married to a hotty, un-obese, salaried professional ways, and no one can take that away from me.

On a slightly less me-centric topic (but only slightly less), there is also news on the home sale front. Unfortunately it is not news on our home sale, but news on our stupid neighbor’s house. Our crappy neighbor’s house has gone into contract, which means that with his un-aggressive marketing and our aggressive marketing, we basically sold the jerk’s place for him. Let me tell you, that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I really wish we would have gone into contract prior to him, but that was not in the cards. We are still getting a good amount of traffic through the house, but no one has even offered up a crappy bid.

Anyway, that is about all I have today.

To recap:

In a room full of über-geeks, I am a enviable by those very über-geeks for my lack of über-geekdom

Ëvërÿthïng ïs bëttër wïth ümläüts

It is a good thing to embrace one’s inner geek every once and a while

Our neighbor sucks

Hopefully with him out of the way we can sell our house faster

We just hope he didn’t undersell his place and undercut our potential sale

Steamed chicken with potatoes, green beans, onions, and corn for dinner tonight

It is both healthy and tasty, but it takes forever to cook

Short post today

Next week will be better

But I will not swear to that

For some reason, Blogger has decided to bork up my paragraphs, I apologize on its behalf

Toaster Oven

So where the Hell did the toaster oven go?!?! Now, I am not one to vehemently complain about barbaric office conditions in the land of cubes, but this has gone too far. Too far I say!

I hate eating lunches at the office. I abhor the whole process of nuking something in the microwave so I can slop down some craptastic “meal” just so I can make it to dinner. Lunch in the office always sucks. Always. The only times it does not just absolutely blow is when I can finagle myself into a lunch meeting where lunch is provided.

At least that was the case until they brought in the toaster oven. Ah, the glorious toaster oven. An oft maligned and misunderstood piece of kitchen equipment. It works like an electric oven, but it is small enough that you do not have to worry about preheating. It is a wonderfully glorious device that browns and crisps frozen food while cooking it all the way through. Instead of getting from a frozen stick to a floppy eggroll in 5 minutes, I got crispy wonderful tasty Asian morsels in 15 minutes. Instead of getting rubbery French bread pizzas that taste like soggy pieces of cardboard, I got a toasty delectable French bread pizzas that tasted like firmer, non set out in the rain pieces of cardboard. Anyway… the machination of my bearable frozen lunches is now gone. Gone I tell you…. Gone

I do not care who says that Lean Pockets now have a crispier flakier crust. They can go straight to Hell, those lying bastards! Those microwave foodstuffs can not hold a candle to a frozen burrito lovingly brought to its gooey warm pinnacle by the workhorse toaster oven. I cannot help it if the other employees of the company did not understand how the toaster oven worked or how much better it was than their gimme-my-crappy-food-now-now-now microwave. You stopped the warm embrace of the toaster oven to my eggrolls by turning it off thinking the egg rolls were done and no one was watching them. I did not complain, even though I was constantly checking on them. You always thought something was burning whenever I turned on the toaster oven, but that fragrance you were detecting was a direct result of a little something called “cooking.”

They have taken my toaster oven away, and now I must sink to the level of a common grad student. Easy Mac it is…

To Recap:
Microwaves heat food by twisting water molecules back and forth and having those water molecules rub against one another to experience a molecular form of "friction"
Toaster ovens heat food because the heating element in the oven starts to glow red-hot, much like a conventional electric oven, the way God intended
I think I must have a tapeworm
I am stunningly hungry and I just ate lunch
I was hungry yesterday immediately after eating lunch
What’s up with that?
And what was up with Spain losing to France?

Minty Fresh

I did not eat enough lunch and I am still quite hungry. Unfortunately, it is the kind of hunger that free mints will not satiate. Although I have been giving it my best to quell the hunger with breath mints. So, as a consequence, I am still quite hungry, but my breath is full of pepperminty goodness. So, I at least got that going for me.

The odd thing is that I ate breakfast and a pretty good lunch. It should have been satisfying but, alas and alack, not satisfying at all. In fact, quite unsatisfying. If you haven’t noticed, I am a bit on the hungry side. To help things along, I just got my monthly email from the “Friends of Krsipey Kreme” program. Bastards. Don’t they know I am hungry? Actually, they probably are counting on it. Anyway… today’s installment of the Krispy Kreme newsletter is all about different shapes of doughnuts. Different shapes of the delectable doughnuts. Different shapes of their glistening, warmly glazed delectable doughnuts. Different shapes of their stunningly easy to eat glistening glazed lovingly deep fried doughnuts… mmmm… umm, where was I? oh yes, “hungry.” Jerks. I reiterate. Don’t they know that I am hungry?

The other problem with attempting to subsist off of mints is the fact that even if I do find some food to tide me over till dinner, I will need to wait until the indelible taste of peppermint leaves (“leaves” the verb not “leaves” the tree foliage.) my mouth. That being the case, I think I just found some crackers in one of my drawers, and now I have to wait until the burning coolness of 21 Eclipse mints consumed over a 2 hour period subsides before I can dig into the stale Ritz-y goodness of unknown age that I just found in my desk drawer. I have at least 10 more minutes before I can crack open the Ritz without them becoming some kind of gooey pepperminty paste. Yep, that doesn’t sound that appealing to me either.

Man, my life is hard

To Recap:
I am wholeheartedly uninspired today
I need to take containers home from work
They are disgusting and need to be washed badly
I still need more new music
Too bad most of the new stuff sucks
Damn you, Krispy Kreme! Damn you to Hell!
Almost out of Eclipse mints
My sinuses are clear and my breath is ultra-minty
Mint plants think my breath is minty
I can’t feel my tongue in some places
And the roof of my mouth is still coolly on fire
Too bad mints are not filling
Spain is up 1 - 0 versus France in the 40th

Garbage Garbage everywhere

I need to fix the garbage disposal. And by fix the garbage disposal I do mean replace the non-working thing. The other day the thing just up and died. One second the InSinkErator was InSinkErating and the next it was just dimming the lights and making a humming noise. Well, poop. When the heck am I going to make the time to go and, first purchase a new InSinkErator and second, install said garbage disposal. I am a busy man with things to do and people to see. I will translate that last sentence: “Tuesday night.”

On a totally different topic, today Wifey and I met with the pre-school that Little Man will be attending this fall. It was avery nice place that was very clean. Both Wifey and I were impressed with the candor of the woman we spoke with and her knowledge of the comings and goings of that pre-school. Just a really goof feeling overall for the entire space and the people who would be running it. Little Man will most likely love the whole experience of being at the pre-school.

I imagine that after his second trepidacious day there, he will start wanting his dorky parents to drop him off further and further away, so he can bask in the coolness of not being associated with us. When he starts asking for that I am getting a 1988 station wagon with faux wood paneling on the side. I will break him. Oh, yes, I will break him… ummm… forgot myself for a second. Ah, what I am getting at here is that I want to embarrass my kid as much as possible, even if it makes me buy a crappy station wagon. Umm what I mean is, that my kid is growing up.

What really hit me like a ton of bricks was just how much older Little Man is. This little guy is almost 3, and I have no idea how three years have passed in this short of a time frame. How my perception has packed 3 whole years into, at most, a 2 year time frame is absolutely amazing. It seems that it was just a few weeks ago that I was changing his diaper in the hospital. Now I am getting hugs and kisses from a little boy who can say, “I love you, Papa.” Sometimes he hugs me just to wipe the ketchup off his mouth. It is very sweet and yet quite annoying.

Anyway… my little boy will be going to pre-school soon, and while it is a good thing, I am not sure I am quite happy about it.

To Recap:
Australians were robbed in the 93rd
Tuesday night I will be replacing a garbage disposal
I hate replacing garbage disposals
Even though I have never done it before
Little Man is growing up
Much to my chagrin
And eventually his

Broken

USA 1 – Ghanna – 2

The offense for the US never seemed to show up, throughout this cup play. We qualified playing a 4 – 4 – 2, but we tried to play a 4 – 5 – 1 for the cup. Play what you know, and bring some offense. There is more that could be said about the US play today, but I am going to restrain myself. Very disappointing cup experience.

Onto today’s topic.

I got the card my parents sent me for my birthday yesterday, which is quite appropriate since it was my birthday yesterday, after all. That makes sense. There was some money in the card, and that was very welcome and nice to see. All in all, very appropriate. Honestly, this is not even a complaint about the main parental units. The funny thing is that this is the 4th year out of 6 years that I have gotten the exact same birthday card from them.

The exact same card. I did mention that it is the exact same card. I wonder if they see the card every year and go, “Now this is a card for SRH!” or if they bought 10 of them 6 years ago and when they forget to get a card they send this one. If it is the former and not the latter, when they see the card, does it ring a bell at all? Is there any statement like, “This card seems vaguely familiar… I hope SRH likes it.”

So, 4 out of the last 6 years. Same card as last year. It has a picture of a rodent in a state of first aid treatment. The rodent looks like it was really worked over, probably by 2 truckers. And on the front of the card it states in classic Comic Sans Serif font: “When they made you…” You open the card and the punch line is just waiting for you. “They broke the mole. –Happy Birthday” you see it is a play on words that is kind of mildly clever. Instead of “when they made you, they broke the mold.” The card says “When they made you, they broke the mole.” And on top of this clever word play, they also have a darling little picture of a “broken mole.” Clever. Very clever indeed.

I guess my parents just find this card too much to handle. In the past 6 years I have gotten this very card 66.667% of the time. There are 2 to 3 odds that I will receive this card next year for my birthday as well, and I am looking forward to it. I hope I do get this card for the birthday next year. It proves one thing and one thing alone: Even though my parents may not be very original, they are most assuredly consistent.

To recap:
USA out and Ghana goes to the second round
All the analysts got Group E wrong, wrong, wrong
Now, I think I will root for the Socceroos
Just because that is what they want you to call them
Turns out that my parents believe that my creation has led to the demise of a mole
And they keep telling me that
They will not let me forget the mole who was broken for me
I will not accept the responsibility of one broken mole
I have Little Man to worry about
I can’t go taking in a broken mole just because I was born

2.4615384615384615

Today is an odd day for me. While I should be collecting money from doubters and others who didn’t think I should last this long (knowing that my smart, sassy mouth should have gotten me killed by now), and while I should be celebrating the wonder that is having a life, I am also shadowed by an event in my past that occurred on this very day, the anniversary of my entrance on this ball of mud careening through the void of space. Every year this tiny planet circles a big ball of gas and we consider ourselves older and hopefully wiser. I have circled that ball of gas for 32 times now. I have done many things and seen even more done in those 32 years, but basically it has all boiled down to meaning my knees will ache when it is going to rain. Much like today. A gray, gray rainy day of aching knees.

You see part of the issue for me is that for the first 19 passes around the sun, I don’t think I even realized that time was passing. I was immortal. I was maturing but not aging. But then I saw a man, a good man, taken down in the prime of his life, and I realized I was not immortal. I saw G-Money’s (also referred to as “Capt. McArmypants” and “that jerk in Colorado.”) father get struck by a drunk driver. I saw it happen and could do nothing to stop it. It changed my life, because after that point I had witnessed the Grim Reaper descend from the Twisting Nether and claim something that was not rightfully his. That will change one’s views on death and dying. That visitation by death himself will alter how you view other’s death and hopefully, how you live your life.

Because of this event that happened on my 19th birthday, in many ways I am also 13. 13 years ago a new person emerged from that tragic event. A new me. A more introspective me, but also a more callous and jaded me. Case in point: Wifey, Little Man and I were on our way back home from a local Metropark when we saw 2 truckers beating the ever living crap out of another trucker. 2 weeks later Wifey looks at me and asks, "How do you not dwell on the fact that these 2 people were beating another man?"

I responded with, “2 guys whalluping another has nothing on a half-ton flatbed smacking someone.” Jaded? Yes. Cynical? Yes. True? For me? Hell, Yes.

To Recap:
For the first time ever Little Man said to me “Happy Birthday”
My knee hurts because it is raining
Crap games being played this morning for the World Cup
US plays Ghana tomorrow at 10 am
Go US
I need a hair cut
Having Mama Mimi’s’ Mama’s Favorite Chicken Pizza for lunch today
I still have to come into work for a meeting on my day off
Stupid meeting
Today is my 32/13 th birthday
It is a very bittersweet day

Ninja Samurai Death House

So, on Thursday afternoon, whilst driving to meet our realtor to peruse some houses we might be interested in buying, Wifey noticed one particular house was for sale. There was more to it than that. In front of this particular house there was a couple who looked like they were about to tour said house.

Our Conversation:

Wifey: Hey, SRH, there’s a couple about to see that house, do they know someone was killed there.

Me: Someone wasn’t just killed there, Wifey. They were killed with a sword by a guy wearing a ninja costume.

Wifey: Yeah, you can’t get that kind of blood stain out easily.

Me: Maybe that is why the price was reduced?

Wifey: I hope they re-carpeted

Me: Boy Howdy!


I think this is another reason why Wifey and I are not realtors. Well, that and our dislike of interacting with people on a daily basis.

To Recap:
It is my birthday tomorrow
I was not planning on coming into work
Now I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon that I have to go to from 3 to 4
Rassin' frassin' rickin' rackin' curse curse sputter
I will be a whopping 32 years old
That means my maximum heart rate for aerobic activity will be a paltry 150.4
I can get my heart rate up to 150 by thinking about a milkshake
The guy was killed by someone dressed as a ninja and wielding samurai swords
Choose, either be a samurai or a ninja
Only one rivalryt exists that is greater than the Samurai/Ninja rivalry
That is the Pirate/Ninja Rivalry as documented here, here, and here
I am discounting the Mime/Clown rivalry
Mainly due to lack of deaths
"Ninja Samurai Death House"
Was that a great title, or what?

The World Cup of Father's Day

I have 2 topics to discuss in today’s post. Honestly I am not entirely sure what order to bring forth these 2 topics. Well, they are World Cup soccer and Father’s Day. So here we are, which should come first? The soccer or the Father’s Day? The soccer or the Father’s Day? The soccer or the Father’s Day? Okay, I am getting a vibe from the back of the room asking me to table the soccer talk until after the papa chat.

Father’s Day:

Why is on days that we are attempting to celebrate our role as a parent we always want time to ourselves. At least that is the case for Wifey and me. On Mother’s Day this year, the big gift that Wifey wanted (and subsequently, did not get due to circumstances out of my control) was time away from Little Man duties. This year for Father’s Day I wanted to sleep in and not change dirty diapers and the like. Wifey gamely attempted to change Little Man’s first diaper, but he was having none of that so by 9:00 am I was wiping poop from the little one’s backside. Yea me. The day kind of followed that trajectory for a while culminating in his spitting out 2 bites of chicken tenders into my hand because they were too hot. FYI: partially chewed chicken tender pieces are rather disgusting to touch, much less has ejected into the palm of your hand. Yeeeeeee-uck!

All in all though, I got a “Happy Fatte’s Day” (a really close pronunciation) from Little Man as I finished my part in last evening’s bed time routine. That pretty much made it all worthwhile. Now I just have to steel myself for Wednesday’s celebration of the beginning of my 32nd year of life. Yippee.

USA vs. Italy:

Italy, you should feel lucky that the ref absolutely sucked. His suckage and penchant for throwing red cards around saved your boot country’s World Cup asses. The De Rossi foul was definitely a straight red-card. Not many impartial people will deny that. The only reason that McBride was able to continue is that he has had so many facial surgeries that he has no feeling in his cheeks. The Pope red-card was questionable but acceptable, but the Mastroeni straight red-card was absolutely a crap call. Italy, you should be very pleased with the point you got, cause the US was robbed, by a ref who was suspended prior to the ’02 Cup for some such reason. Horrible refereeing, just plain horrible.

That demonstration of horrid reffing begs the question as to why no US ref’s were selected for center spots. Brian Hall is much better than that tool of a ref disgracing the pitch, but he wasn’t called up for the cup. He would have been a fine ref for some other fixture, and we could have gotten someone other than Cardy McWhistle. Hell, my lazy ass brother could have called a better match, and he is only reffing High School games in Virginia Beach. To call half the crap he did in the first half and to eject that many players without making hardly any calls late in the second half shows some kind of inconsistency and questionable behavior in the eyes of most cup viewers. If you don’t mind me speaking for you, “most cup viewers.”

What makes me most happy about the game is that the US team really was going after it. Completely contrary to the Czech game where the US looked listless and unconcerned, at best. Now we have to beat the ever living snot out of really good Ghana team to ensure Team USA’s place in the second round. That will be rather difficult since, up to this point the US has not actually scored a goal.

To recap:
Partially chewed chicken tender in the palm of my hand, makes me feel just a bit on the queasy side
Next Father’s day gift should be the ability to sleep in
Man, I need some sleep
It seems to be the only thing I am consistently thinking about
32 on Wednesday
Somehow 32 seems a bit underwhelming
There is that whelming again
Refs should not influence the outcome of a game
They should make sure that the sides adhere to the codes of conduct associated with the sport
This ref was arbitrary and should be banned from further iternational matches
Again

20 questions v 5.1

Okay, here we go with the latest installment of 20 questions with SRH. I am traveling for work today to sunny, Hudson, Ohio to look at digital asset inventorying systems for their water utility. Are any of you jealous? I didn’t think so.

Again, thanks to everyone who submitted questions. This time around I got some q’s from across the Pond and south of that Panama Canal. I am an inter-continental answerer now.

1. If the Collective Unconscious, according to Jung, really exists, is it ineffective because there are so many people who want so many different things? If we culled the population (90% or so) would it work better?
I think the Collective Unconscious will never be useful because even if the population were only 10% of today’s pop, 90% of those people would still be self-absorbed jack-asses.

2. If you could only eat one type of food for the rest of your life what wouldit be - Give examples?
I would only eat cooked food. That is a type, right? As for examples, braised, roasted, broasted, grilled, sautéed, flambéed, stir fried, deep fried, pan seared, baked, I could go on and on…

3. Who was the best James Bond and why?
Sean Connery. Far and away the best Bond of the bunch. He set the bar. Plain and simple

4. Which would you rather live without Books or Television?
I no read so good, but most TV is based on books. Crap, I would give up TV. And Damn you to Hell for making me say that!

5. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
I just wanted the Hell out of Alabama! I didn’t care if I was flipping burgers at a fast food joint, as long as I was far far away from ‘bama. Ummm… upon further reflection a swashbuckling swordsman Jedi ninja.

6. Finish creatively: "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water..."
Jill realized that she was not really all that necessary for this trip and decided to let Jack do it himself. She now has to live with the guilt of Jack’s death by “Broken Crown.” Why Jack? Why?!?!? You were so young….

7. “Reddish Rain Water” was falling in India in 2001. Is this an alien invasion? If so, isn’t it about time?
It is the precursor of the alien invasion, not the invasion itself

8. If you had infinite mind-influencing power; would you, or would you not, create a scary cult dedicated to the adoration of Little Man?
Already starting to form the cult as I type. You know he is soon to be your leader

9. What came first, sunset-s or sunrise-s?
Sunrise

10. Which Superhero would make the best father - Discuss?
Definitely not any of these weirdos

11. Why is it that Chicago is cool and Detroit Sucks?
I found my trip to Chicago to be most un-cool, so I am not the person to answer this one for you.

12. Why do people make fun of the statement “It is not the heat, it is the humidity.” When it clearly is the humidity?
People like to make fun of clichés for being trite. Clichés exist for a reason people…

13. Which is a worse death? Falling from a plane or being poisoned?
Snakes on a Plane ‘nuff said

14. It appears that in dolphin conversations, the dolphins self identify with every phrase in their whistles and clicks (for example, “Flipper swims fast. Flipper likes to eat. Flipper this and Flipper that. Flipper sure is into himself…). Why is it that their “names” that they identify themselves with seem to more closely resemble their mother’s more than their father’s?
Turns out that the dolphin social structure is rather fluid, much like the medium in which they live. Mothers and calves stay together for the calves’ early life while the father goes out drinking with his buddies. I would say that the moms actually name the little tykes and the dad has very little to do with their offspring. That is why.

15. Who knew?
Only the Shadow knows…

16. Since the DaVinci Code is not really that original of an idea, and really not that well written of a book, why is it so popular and shouldn’t the people who made it so popular just read more?
Yes, they need to read more and better books

17. Whatever happened to Estelle Getty?
I have no idea, but you can still catch Golden Girls re-runs if you need your fix. I think the networks are a bit afraid of doing a “Where are they now: Golden Girls” because there is a good chance they are dead.

18. How do you think Harry Potter is going to end?
I really think Harry is going to win. He will vanquish Voldemort and in doing so Gryffendor will get 10 points which is just enough to put them above Slytheryn for the House Cup. Yep, Harry will save the freaking world and Gryffendor will get 10 measly points.

19. What college experience do you regret and why?
I went drinking one night after an all you appetizers meal. Turns out I ate a whole bunch of chicken fingers and then drank a whole bunch, and then saw how many chicken fingers I ate a whole bunch.

20. What is your favorite thing about Little Man?
Right now, this very instant? His laugh. Not his fake laugh, the real one that only comes out occasionally, but is oh so worth it.

To Recap:
Going to Hudson to look at pipes on a computer
I think I have done this before somewhere
I know you all are extremely jealous
I just know it
It is the only thing that will keep me going today
Have a great weekend
Good Luck to the English v T and T, they are Dynomite

Musings

My commute is not a terribly long drive. Typically it takes about 15 minutes if I don’t get all the lights. If I get the lights, I can maybe, just maybe make it in using up only 10 minutes of my life that I will never get back.

Often I have bizarre and strange musings on this short jaunt into work. These musings typically flit in and out of my brain like moths trying to get to light bulbs, but I would hardly consider these thoughts to be the proverbial light bulbs going off in my mind. Nope these thoughts are way too fleeting and ill-formed to be any sort of useful thoughts. These stray thoughts range from what animal combinations would look like and their names (for example: 1. alligator + penguin = alliguin or pengator 2. marmoset + lemming = marmoming or lemmiset or 3. wombat + vampire bat = vampire wombat) to the potential of creating a pulse laser weapon using surgical lasers and an oscillating focal length (a very complicated idea to say the least) or even the creation of a new system of mathematics that involve non-existent numbers (an even more complicated idea to say the least, yet again). Mind you, I have neither the time, the energy, the expertise nor the power to bring any of these lame schemes/ideas to fruition, but sometimes these are the things I think about on the drive into work.

Today was not one of those days. Today I just listened to NPR and drove into work.

To Recap:
The drive in is when the inane crap occurs
I think it has to do with my brain slowly coming “online”
If I lived on the Island of Dr Moreau, you would need to be afraid, very afriad
The drive home typically involves talking to Little Man about his day
I do most of the talking
How was your day, Little Man?
Aiight
Did you have fun at Grandma D and Grandpa R’s today
Uh-Huh
Where are we going now?
Home

Procrastination

In high school we had to do term papers for my sophomore, junior, and senior English classes. Typically we had to do 1 a year. I remember clearly the day before my 10th grade paper was due when I got home from school, my mom just could not understand why I went to bed immediately upon entering the house. My reasoning was simple, I was going to procrastinate anyway, I might as well make it constructive procrastination. To me, sleep will always be “constructive procrastination.” I got up that evening around 8 pm and wrote the paper until 6 am. It was a rather interesting take on a comparison and contrast of Caius Cassius from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and Jack Merridew in Golding’s Lord of the Flies. The characters are surprisingly similar, and it still makes me wonder if Golding modeled Jack after Cassius. My personal bet is “Yes.”

As an aside, I got an 84 out of 200 on that paper, but only because of 3 misspelled words and 2 comma faults in a 10 page paper prior to the days of robust automated spell and grammar checks. She actually wrote on the title sheet of the paper (I still remember it to this day), “Very interesting topic, well researched and well presented. 84/200.” In fact, of the 90 students that this particular teacher taught (3 classes) only 5 people got passing grades on their papers (they were all D’s by the way). Some of those who failed were the children of other English teachers in the same school system. Sure some of those kids with English teacher parents were not the brightest people ever, but I am sure they had their work proof-read. My particular English teacher was not that well liked.

Anyway… my point is that I am a procrastinator. I am also lazy which leads to my penchant for “constructive procrastination” or naps. Here this issue, I have some things to get done, both at work and at the house, but there is no way for me to “constructively procrastinate.” When I have tings that need to be done, I do not sleep that well at night, but I can turn off the thoughts in the afternoon and nap like a champ. Here is my issue, Little Man will not allow me to nap at home while he is conscious, and work decidedly frowns upon my stretching out under my desk and serenading everyone with my sonorous slumbersong.

I guess the real meat of the matter is that I am tired. I have been sleeping for crap, and I am getting tired of having the house on the market.

To Recap:
Me sleepy
Mrs. Cannada was not a good teacher
Mrs. Roby was
These renderings aren’t going to render themselves
I do work well in pressure situations though
It seems to be when I work my best

Best picture of the bunch from Chicago

1 hour later he was screaming and crying so we would leave the Tutankhamen exhibit

World Cup v House on Market

A couple of sentences about the US v Czech game. The US looked absolutely pitiful. They came out flat and stayed flat the entire game. The Czechs out-played us in every category (especially the diving. Good lord, if Demarcus Beasley can knock you over with all 5 foot 6 inches and 145 pounds of himself, you should not be playing the game). Every single one. Absolutely abysmal showing by the US team. It seems that this US team has bought into the hype that they are the best team we have ever fielded. What the US did not realize is that just because it is the best we have ever fielded does not mean that we are going up against the same level of competition. Reality check everyone, the rest of the world is better as well. I wish I could say that they played a really good game and were just unfortunate, but I can’t even do that. That was just plain painful to watch. Absolutely abysmal.

Enough of that game. I deny that it ever happened.

So I wanted to settle into a nice World Cup viewing this weekend, but instead had to vacate the house during the game times because some people wanted to look at the house. In 4 years remind me not to have my house on the market when the cup is going on. It is really quite annoying trying to both at the same time. Stuff needs to be picked up and cleaned, but Sweden is playing rather flat against T and T. The underdogs are a man down and holding off a much more skilled team, but the laundry needs to be put away in a room without a TV. We have a showing in 10 minutes but England is getting ready for a dead-ball set piece about 35 yards from Paraguay’s goal. Little Man needs to get his shoes on but the Dutch have the ball and are pressing the Serb Montenegrins something fierce. The bathroom is not going to clean itself while Iran goes into a defensive posture versus Mexico. You can see my dilemma.

I am glad that the World Cup only lasts for a month. Wifey is glad that it only happens every four years. If we could just get the house in contract, I could watch so many more games.

Speaking of the house front, other than interrupting my Cup obsession, we had a total of 6 showings on Saturday, luckily all 6 showings occurred during 2 time slots, but those 2 time slots were from 10:00 to 11:00 am and from 2:00 to 3:00 pm. Set up perfectly to interrupt 2 of the 3 games. Just plain lovely. At least people seem to be kind of interested in looking at our house. We also had an open house on Sunday coupled with a showing early that evening. All in all we had 10 “groups” go through our house this weekend. Offers so far? Nary a one. This selling the house thing is very inconvenient.

On to happier topics.

Okay, I got nothing. Stupid World Cup intruding on all my thoughts

To Recap:
Czech 3 – USA 0
It hurt to watch. It was like watching the US play in 1990
And that was a painful undertaking
I wasted a long lunch for that?!?!
Trinidad and Tobago tied Sweden 0 – 0 after being a man down for about 42 minutes
TNT = dynamite
We have averaged about 1 group per day since we have had the house on the market
Keeping a house in “showable” condition with an almost 3 year old is taxing
I think there is some allergen out there that is just kicking my ass at the moment
Getting out of bed has been difficult for the past couple of days

Chicago: Part 3, Trains, Oh God! The Trains

Before we get into the meet of today’s post, I find it necessary to state un-equivocally that I love Little Man. I love him something fierce. I find him to be the absolute most entertaining person on the planet. I enjoy spending time with him. Time with him really does brighten my day. He already has a quirky sense of humor, and his language skills seem to be growing by the minute. He honestly has the most amazing sense of direction and space. It really is stunning how well he knows where he is. I love that little boy to death and time spend with him is recharging and invigorating

most of the time.


Whilst in Chicago, Little Man’s interest in trains seemed to get the better of him, and cause me to go slightly insane(er). Chicago, for those of you who do not know, is one of the few American cities where mass transit is an accepted form of travel within the city. Therefore in Chicago there are a few different types of trains that one can use. There is the most well-known system known affectionately to Chicagoans and others as “The El” which is there elevated transit system that runs through most of the downtown area, and there is the Metra lines which are commuter trains that feed in from more outlying suburbs. To Little Man these are referred to as “White pas car” (pronounced “wīt pah car” translated as white passenger cars) and “Orange pas car” (same pronunciation of “pas.” He is all into the French nasal diphthongs at the moment. Again, translated as "Orange Passenger Cars”) respectively.

We arrived in Chicago on Monday evening, so Tuesday morning Little Man and I venture forth into the city and make it an entire half-block before we have to stop and watch the El for 1 hr straight. He only stopped watching the train because we had to get back to the room fro his breathing treatment.

Wednesday, his breathing was better and I decided to see if he wanted to look at “Big Water” (**Lake Michigan). We headed across Michigan Avenue into Grant Park and had to stop on the pedestrian bridge that over looked the Metra lines. I could not get him off of this bridge for 2 solid hours because their was a parked train on the tracks that he could watch not move. Occasionally another train would go by and ruin my chances of getting him to be willing to leave the spot. Only lunch with Wifey enticed him away from the bridge.

Thursday, Wifey did not have any conference duties in the morning so we attempted a run on the Field Museum of Natural History and the Tutankhamen display therein. Little Man was having none of it. He wanted to watch trains, and he wanted to watch trains right then and for at least an hour after right then. We did finally make it into the museum and paid our 50 smackers for the Tut exhibit. We spent about 30 minutes looking at stuffed animals before getting in line for Tut. We waited in line just fine, but when we were finally able to look at these artifacts Little Man threw a fit. It was very frustrating. Had we been the only people in the museum and not surrounded by priceless artifacts, we probably would have fought it out. As it was, we were surrounded by people getting increasingly angry with our screaming child, and our child was getting increasingly vocal about the necessity of our departure as we navigated the maze that was the exhibit.

After his nap that afternoon, we watched the Metra for 2 hours.

Friday, morning we watched a little El prior to him allowing me to take him into the city, and for 2 hours in the afternoon we watched the Metra.

Notice it is the same pedestrian bridge. I hate that pedestrian bridge.

Saturday morning, prior to us going to the zoo. Wifey, Little Man and I spent some time watching the El.

On average I spent at least 2 hours a day watching trains in various states of movement. Watching 2 hours of trains daily is not so bad, the issue was that when he was watching for the El he would continually ask “Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Wherewhitepascar? Wherewhitepascar? Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?” He would ask this until a train went by, and the he would say “There white pas car.” Then he would start his crazy making mantra of “Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?” It didn’t matter if I answered him. It didn’t matter at all. He would not shut up. It was constant and un-ending. Why wouldn’t he shut up? I didn’t know where White Pas Car Was! I ASSUME THE WHITE PAS CAR IS ON THE TRACK SOMEWHERE ELSE!! STOP ASKING THAT QUESTION!!!!

Umm, anyway… it was very much the same ceaseless noise making associated with the orange pas cars!

To Recap:
We were in Chicago for 123 hours, he slept for 68 hours, we had meals for 9 hours, and for 12 of the remaining 51 hours we watched trains
Almost ¼ of his entire wakeful time in Chicago was spent watching the same trains
On Friday the El operators were waving to him
They recognized us from the 2.8 million people living in Chicago
World Cup starts tomorrow
Germany is going to decimate Costa Rica
Monday’s post will most likely be all about USA v Czech Republic


**originally I had this called out as Lake Erie. This is due to the inordinate amount of time I have spent working on maps for a major Cleveland transportation project. Thanks to whomever the anonymous poster was who alerted me to my mis-laking.

Chicago: Part 2, The Hotel

Okay, what do I have to say about the Hotel? Hmmm… where to start, where to start?
The Hotel is a gorgeous Hotel from the outside. It has a nice edifice and evokes the feeling of the early to mid 1900’s really well. The accommodations are of an “okay” size, but for the cost we were being given, they were not that large or accommodating. Our room had a bed in it and a tiny little table along with the requisite dresser and TV. It was nothing special, and certainly not worth the $200+ a night that it turned out to be. One could see that the hotel could be a really nice hotel with some minor modifications and a thorough cleaning. That being said, it was a 2-star hotel that had aspirations to be a 4-star.

The door knobs on the fire doors were coming off, but a hamburger from their kitchen cost $10.95. The door knob issue, while being a gigantic fire hazard, was also quite annoying because it was really difficult to get into and out of our hallway. The toilet leaned a little to the left when you were seated on it. The fridge that they allowed us to use in the room for a minor rental fee looked like it had been in one to many dorm rooms. The thing was completely beat up, I am honestly surprised that it closed. They did not have a microwave available for rental or use. We had to buy a cheap microwave at Target for the “heating of the chickies.” Little Man almost went through an entire large orange bag of the things during this trip. He would have them for breakfast and a pre-dinner snack.

Anyway… The staff that we interacted with seemed nice enough, but the desk staff was populated with jerks. They were the absolute worst concierges I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. Not only were they un-knowledgeable about their city, they were also rude about their lack of knowledge. FYI: If you are going to be in a position where people are expected to ask you questions, please be polite whether you know the answer or not.

The real kicker about the hotel and its situation was the strike and picket line that was going on at their main entrance. Okay, a little background information: The conference Wifey was going to was NCORE or the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity in Higher Education. The Congress Plaza was listed in the conference materials as the “approved” overflow hotel for the Hilton Chicago (a much nicer hotel with no picketing or strike to boot!). The strike was occurring due to “unfair labor practices” and consisted almost completely of people of some sort of Hispanic/Latino or Black backgrounds. On top of all this, the strike has been going on for the past 3 years straight! Now, that is some solidarity.

The sad irony of being in a hotel where a strike was occurring to go to an anti-oppression conference was not lost on the conference attendees. In fact many of the attendees were really questioning why the Conference planners endorsed a hotel with a clearly oppressive hotel with very little scruples. Turns out the hotel lied to event organizers and said that the 3 year long strike would be over by the time the conference came to town. Guaranteed it, actually. The conference planners were less than pleased. Every time wifey left to go to the conference, she had to walk through a line of unfairly treated brown people to go to a conference where one of the major topics was the unfair treatment of brown people.

They also stated that it would only be $10 extra a night for me to stay in the room. Turns out they charged us $25. Jerks.

Had Little Man’s breathing not been such an issue, we probably would have gone to stay at a non-striking hotel. As it was we, once again, decided our convenience was more important than the rights of others. Apparently we’re jerks, too.

To Recap:
The Congress Plaza Hotel and Convention Center is considered a 2-star hotel for a great many reasons
Wifey, is clearly the karma of our relationship
The MacDonald’s on Wabash has Grape Fanta
Mmmmm grape soft drink
If you have an itch, scratch it

Just some pics

Little Man with the Sears Tower in the background

Little Man at Millennium Park

Chicago: Part 1, Breathing

As I stated on Wednesday of last week, I was a bit afraid of Little Man and Wifey getting sick because of my ailment. Well on Saturday Wifey started feeling bad, and we noticed that Little Man started showing signs of a sore throat as well. Sunday rolls in and Wifey is feeling better, but Little Man seems a bit worse for the wear. At this point Wifey and I are trying to decide whether or not Little Man and I will be making the trip. It just would make no sense for us to travel to Chicago if his breathing was severely compromised. We decide that it is going to be a “game-time” decision, and wait to determine his travel fitness until Monday morning when we are planning to start our trek.

Monday morning rolls around. He sounded a little creaky, but a breathing treatment seemed to take care of it easily. We are ready to roll. We get in the family vehicle and take off for Chicago. Just outside of Indianapolis (North side) he starts coughing. For some background: When Little Man’s asthma rears its ugly head, it presents itself as coughing and not wheezing. We find a mall and an outlet to give him another breathing treatment. It has been a bit over 4 hours, so we are not alarmed by the treatment’s necessity.

Fast forward another 4 hours, we are now on the I-90 toll road to the South of Chicago, but not quite to the “Skyway.” Traffic got really heavy, much heavier than one would think for a holiday afternoon at 6 pm local time. All is good though, we were only 20 miles away from our final destination. As we approach the Skyway, traffic stops. While this is a typical traveling nuisance and typically just mildly annoying, this delay took more of a toll on us because Little Man started to cough. We are only 20 miles away from the hotel and the ability to give Little Man a breathing treatment.

Traffic was creeping forward at a snail’s pace, and to make things worse, the vehicle behind us was populated with 2 little girls with access to some kind of external speaker system. They were commenting about adjacent cars and drivers. They thought that were insanely clever, but high pitched voices on a tinny speaker are not terribly discernable. Therefore their incredibly clever banter ended up sounding like some chipmunks hooked up to a guitar amp. Not pleasant, nor funny in the least, in fact, quite annoying. I really wanted to brain those little urchins. Little Man’s coughing was getting worse.

An hour and a half later we had finally traversed the 20 miles, and pull up to our hotel. We unpacked as quickly as we could, got up to the room and started a new breathing treatment. (Hindsight being 20/20 and all, we should have purchased the nebulizer that hooks into the car cigarette lighter). He responds well enough to the treatment to settle down enough for the night.

2 hours into his sleep he wakes himself coughing… another Breathing treatment. Every 2 to 3 hours we gave him treatments. This breathing regime continued throughout Tuesday. We decided after his 3 pm breathing treatment to go to the Chicago Children’s Memorial E.R. and put our kid on Orapred again in a “foreign” city. We are kind of old hat at this, so we decided to get dinner first, and then head to the E.R. when his breathing was worse so the E.R. would take us a bit more seriously. We ate at a nice little pub about 2 blocks away from the E.R. and then hiked our way to the E.R.

We signed in and gave them the litany of medicines that Little Man is currently taking: Singulair once a day, 1 tsp Zyrtec daily, Pulmicort (.5) twice a day, Foradil twice a day, and Xopenex with Atrovent as needed (every 2 to 3 hours in this case). Little Man was barely coughing at this point. IT had been almost 3 full hours since his last “breathy.” His pulse/ox was at a surprising 98%, and he seemed to be doing a bit better. After being in the waiting room for 30 minutes, we notice that his breathing is actually better than it was immediately after his previous treatment.

Wifey, is his breathing better?
I think it is.
Did we just have to threaten him with a Dr’s visit?
I think so.

We told the triage nurse that his breathing was better and then we left. On Wednesday we had to give him 2 rescue treatments. Thursday: 1. Friday we gave him one for good measure. On Saturday we went to the zoo and headed home.

To recap:
Little Man’s asthma is scared of doctors
We give him a shit-ton of medicine
Daily
Yes, we brought his train to the hotel room
Decided to not be so anonymous anymore
Little Man and me outside the Field Museum
Outing Wifey too
Wifey and Little Man waiting for the El to go by, Little Man is really enjoying it

Chicago: the Overview

Chicago: Oh, there are many things to chat about concerning my family’s recent trip to Chicago. In fact, there are 3 main areas I will be focusing on this week about the trip to Chicago. Today I will give a nice overview of the trip and the rest of the week I will be fleshing out more anecdotes as the week continues.

So, remember my fear of getting Little Man and Wifey sick Well, consider Sunday afternoon the beginnings of the illnesses. We traveled on Monday. An interesting trip in the car. We stopped just outside of Indianapolis for a breathing treatment and went through the industrial blight that is south of Chicago on the I-90 toll “Skyway.” I am sorry, if I am paying to be on a roadway, I really think the scenery should not be solely comprised of industrial decay and blight. Maybe that is just me. Anyway… One excruciating trip later, and we made it to the hotel. His breathing issues abated by Wednesday, but Monday and Tuesday were really touch-and-go. More on this tomorrow.

The hotel, now that is a topic for another day. In fact, that is the topic for Wednesday. The give a quick overview of the hotel, it is a 2-star hotel that charged like it was a 4-star. I was horribly under-whelmed by this hotel’s ethic and customer service. For being on Michigan Avenue and being next to some nicer hotels, this one just plain sucked.

There are tons of activities to do in Chicago. There are tons of Children’s activities to do in Chicago. Chicago is a great city, with great stuff to do. I spent most of my time on a pedestrian bridge over looking the Metra lines or under the “El.” A good 2 hours of everyday was spent watching mass transit. I am tired of mass transit. More on this on Thursday, it is still too painful to talk about.

Here is one small anecdote from eating at Gina’s Cuisine, a fine little restaurant on Wabash Street near Congress Parkway that has a great grilled chicken sandwich. Side note: The woman working the register (I assume it was Gina) was absolutely floored when I asked her what she would recommend. I was sitting at a table with Little Man where he was able to watch the El from the table. I was wolfing down this wonderful sandwich while Little Man was taking down French fries like a champ, when this guy sits down next to us. Out of the blue he exclaims, “Good Lord! He looks just like you!”

“Yeah, I have to claim him, even if I don’t want to.”
“I mean, Jesus, He looks just like you.”

“It’s because I cursed him with my hairline.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” The guy then started talking to me about his kid. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Couldn't he see I was drinking a root beer and eating a chicken sandwich? By this point in the trip, I had not started craving adult conversation (It was Tuesday morning). If he had caught me on Friday I would have clamped onto him like a bear trap.

To Recap:
The trip to Chicago was not restful at all
I was the primary care giver for Little Man the entire week
I am craving adult conversation
Craving it
It is good to be home
And online
Had some really good deep dish pizza
I walked around the city a whole bunch
My hips hurt now from all the carrying of Little Man on my shoulders.
Pics to come tomorrow