June 2004 Archives

I'll share a little about my road trip sometime later this week, probably with a few photos. It wasn't as relaxing as I'd hoped, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Wow! When did Texas move to the Pacific Northwest? We've had so much rain I'm considering trading my cowboy boots and barbecue for some Birkenstocks and a bowl of granola, and my pickup for a Subaru station wagon with a kayak/ski rack on top. Beer? Forget it! It's all Starbucks for me. Too much more precipitation and the Petite Filet will HAVE to let me get a canoe, or else I'll have no other means of getting to work.

In other news ...

Have a great weekend, one and all! See you on the other side.

Hotmail is holding my e-mail hostage, but I'm not sure why. When I log on, it takes me to some strange screen I've never seen before, and some graphics don't load. Then I click on a message and ... nothing. Nada. Zippo on a hippo. Can't throw spam away; can't read nonspam; it's worthless!

I was able to find out why I always thought Ashley Olsen was prettier than her twin sister. And if I needed a stock quote, that was possible. Just can't get the mail. Ironic, then, that snail mail is strangely more reliable all of a sudden:

As worthwhile as much of the Internet is, there is a lot of trash. I don't have to tell you this: you've found a little pocket of rubbish here, haven't you? Type in any word in a search field and you're bound to get something, whether it's what you expected or something less savory.

A person could sit at the computer all day taking worthless quizzes and tests to see what kind of circus animal they'd be, or if they're good in bed, or if they'd make a good boss, or what the colors of their cars say about their personalities. Such generalized topics are hard to take seriously and should not be considered a good judge of a person. Most of us know it's just for fun, I hope.

Here's a few of my own quizzes with which you may test yourself:

I haven't been out of town except to see family (and you know that doesn't really count) since September. So, in an effort to remain sane and have a temporary change of scene, me and the fam are planning to hit the road next weekend.

The first problem was decideing where to go ...

I've been a father now for about 18 months, and sometimes I still can't get used to the idea. "I've" and "father" being in the same sentence just then is even a little weird. But of course there's not a minute that goes by when I'm not a father (or "daddy" as I'm known in certain circles), and there's even less time when I'm not filling that role in some capacity. For example, even at the grocery store I was fulfilling a fatherly role by "bringing home the bacon" (and also picking up some more diapers).

Here's some ways life is different compared to before my Cutlet was born:

When the Texas Lottery Jackpot reaches epic plateaus as it has the past week or so, I catch a bit o' the fever as well. A week ago from Wednesday, it was $80 million. Nobody won it, so it climbed to $100 million this past Saturday. Nobody won that, so I figured it was about time to waste a little money as the pot built to $120 million.

And that's what I did: waste a little money. Exactly 5 bucks. Our local news media have been running stories about how unlikely it is to win, that you have a better chance of getting struck by lightning than winning what is now an estimated $145 million for next Saturday. That's not exactly true: I'm typically not dumb enough to stand outside during a thunderstorm; I am dumb enough to spend the equivalent of a fast-food value meal on a chance at that kind of cash.

They drew the numbers at 10:12 p.m. local time, and the numbers were stupid numbers (mostly because they weren't mine). Who on Earth would pick the bonus ball as one of their other five numbers? Nobody did, I guess. So I'll probably shell out another 5 bucks to play again Saturday. Why not?

Yeah, it's gambling. And, yes, sadly there are people who spend hundreds of their hard-earned paychecks, pinning their financial dreams on a cloud. But it's kind of fun to watch the little pingpong balls blow into the tube. And it's fun to dream about what we'd do with so much money. And the last thing I need is another fast-food value meal. And you're less likely to win if you don't play. Kind of like life, isn't it?

What would you do with $145 million (we'll just pretend there are no taxes on your prize)?

Mad Libs – The Blog Edition

Remember Mad Libs? Come on, you know you do! Those books that called for someone to supply a noun, verb, etc., without that person knowing the context. The result was a story that usually made little sense and was generally hilarious. Do they still make those? They should. Just in case they’ve become extinct, I’ll relive the memories here by creating an online game for you to play.

Supply words asked for below WITHOUT clicking on “Read More” (that will take you to the story you’ve created). After you’ve picked your words (and written them down or something), you can read your little story. Fun, huh? Stupid, huh? Yes and yes! Let's go!

1. Your name (proper noun)
2. Someone else’s name (proper noun, opposite sex)
3. Public place (noun)
4. Activity (verb)
5. Occupation (noun)
6. Mode of transportation (noun)
7. Article of clothing (noun)
8. Name of U.S. President, living or dead (proper noun)
9. Circus animal (noun)
10. Body part (noun)
11. Name of relative (noun)
12. State of being (adverb)
13. Pet (noun)
14. Activity (verb)
15. Swear word (noun)

Hey, when you're done, leave your answers in the comments so we can all have a laugh or whatever!

I had the rare pleasure of not shaving or taking a shower for three days this past weekend. Sadly, I wasn’t camping out in the woods. Just working around the house while the Petite Filet and Cutlet are out of town visiting family (thankfully coming back Wednesday).

It got me thinking about how wonderful and necessary it is for me to be married. Now, some will disagree, including playas, the recently divorced, those who aren’t ready and the others who don’t believe marriage is a viable institution. Hey, it works for me. The beauty of it all began with the fact that I wasn’t looking to get married when I met my eventual wife, yet everything fell into place and took on a magical quality. More than five years of hills and valleys have passed since we tied the knot (hurtling toward seven years of togetherness). And it still works. Good for you, T-Bone. Now shut up.

Before I do, let me try to convince you that, at least for me, marriage is a good thing:

There's that saying that says "people are the same wherever you go." I've never believed that. Even if you look in one place, you'll find a diverse fabric of people – from weirdos to dullards. Maybe I'd be more apt to believe that "people are the same whenever you go."

It still irks me that my generation was dubbed "Generation X" because, according to the adults at the time, we were uncertain of our futures and were an unknown factor. That pretty much describes every generation of teen-agers. Instead of the Teen Years, let's just call them the X Years.

Further, I find it silly to blame past behavior on the decade in which it happened. For example:

Feeding a little one is always a hoot. In the beginning, our kiddo ate nothing but breast milk – which of course meant I got to see a lot of my wife's hooters. Then, he graduated to a mix of breast milk and formula, eventually more or less "solid" foods. Now, he drinks whole cow's milk and sometimes even eats the same things we do.

Now, hurtling toward 17 months old, our little dude is using a fork. He actually stabs the food and puts it in his mouth all by himself. Sure, that may not sound amazing, but it's just one of the new things he picks up every day. Take a look ...

Note to spammers: Have you stopped trying? Putting things like "tattoo dietician" and "enamel" in the subject lines do not make me want to open your spam e-mails. Not that I would anyway. Unless I know you, or you ask ME something specific in the subject line (either with my real name or T-Bone), you're trash is trashed. Please drive through.

What a beleaguring week last week was, if ever such a week was! It seems like a blur now, but wasn't even approaching blur status whilst I was living through it. Here's some of the lowlights:

Our two nights of stormy weather Tuesday and Wednesday have caused the most widespread power loss in my state's largest utility company's history (a long history of not answering their phones and giving customers the runaround).

I know they're working hard to fix the problems. We are fortunate enough to have power; it only flickered a couple of times at my house. Half my neighborhood has nothing; a small percentage of those have a helping hand. Say what you will about the suburbs, but there are some friendly people. As great as urban areas are, few of your neighbors would happen to have a gas generator they'd let you borrow.

Have you ever had TWO of those days in a row? I'm living that right now. Maybe I'll elaborate later. Let's just say that you can't make lemonade if all you're handed is crap.

Because I'm often accused of being Captain of the Bright Side, I'll attempt to entertain you with monkey-like dancing around said crap with terribly written (and boringly bawdy) "poetry" of woe, some of the pieces based on popular songs from the 1970s and/or nursery rhymes:

My father's parents haven't been happy together – at least for more than five minutes at a time – since I was aware of what happiness meant. That's been a long time, friends.

They started out romantically enough. They got married on a snowy Christmas Day in North Carolina. Grampy rented a sleigh to pick up his intended, and they got married before a justice of the peace. He worked for the phone company, and was part of a team that wired Puerto Rico for phone service in the late 1970s. They had three children – my dad is the oldest. Then my uncle and finally aunt were born. Pictures depict a happy family life, frought with relatives fresh off the farm, large family reunions, fried corn bread and lots of meat and vegetables.