Mother's Day

I'm continually reminded that it is Mother's Day "Weekend", which I'm not buying for a couple reasons: my wife gets more than a birthday, she nearly gets a birthweek and beyond, so enough is enough.

The other reason is, she spent half the day cleaning the house so I don't think she's taking her own Mother's Day Weekend seriously. I tried to forbid housecleaning this morning, but was fully dismissed.

So now my son and I have been negotiating wake up time for Mother's Day morning. He wants to get up at 6:30 and start making breakfast. I'm hoping for 7:30. Momma wants it closer to 8:30. I told the boy to come poke me at 7:30, and usually he will stick to a schedule if you give him one. He's worn out, so hopefully I'll be the one waking him up.

So, breakfast, coffee, newspaper in bed. A small gift and thoughtful card from her boy. Then I'll stay out of her hair by doing chores all day. Then a fabulous dinner at Isaacs, a popular Middle Eastern place here in town. That should make for a great Mother's Day weekend for all of us!

Took Quite A Beating Today

With the boy on spring break from school, we spent the day here, and I feel a bit like I might spend tomorrow here. Here's the thing: we were certainly not the oldest people shooting down the water slides but I'm thinking we were in the top ten percent. It's been 20 years since I've done this sort of thing.

Up about 75 steps for each ride, and then you either flop onto an inner tube - not a natural position for a moderately overweight 41-year-old - or, if it's a body only slide, you get yourself in the sarcophagus position and squirt through a narrow, dark, and twisty corkscrew until you are excreted at the bottom into a small pool designed to stop your momentum and inject as much water up your nose as possible. On the way down, if it's the body only, no inner tube version, your heels, ass, and head are assaulted by every curve and every seam in the chute. It's luge without a sled.

Then when you try to exit at the bottom with dignity, everyone laughs at you.

I didn't realize it until I got home, but I'm sore as hell.

In spite of all that, we had a great time. I probably shot through the chutes-of-death 20 times. If it were closer to home I would love to go more often. LBB and TB would, too.

Now, what to do for the rest of spring break? Tomorrow looks rainy, so maybe just a Rock Band marathon. Then Wednesday it's back to work for me, so I can recover then.

Ten For Ten

TB had a swim meet over the weekend and had a clean sweep. Ten events, ten wins. He improved on his best times in several events, most notably the 100 IM, in which he dropped nine seconds. It helped that two of his best buddies were at the end of the pool cheering him on.

I hope he wants to keep it up, because the boy's got talent. He seems to have turned the corner toward understanding the need for practice. Of course they all complain about practice, but it obviously helps.

Two more meets this season. District Championships in two weeks, and then another in Charleston WV in March. We are getting fussed at by the coach because the first day of the District meet conflicts with the Pinewood Derby for TB's cub pack. We gave him the choice and he chose the Pinewood Derby. That's fine. There will be many years of swim meets, but the Derby is just once a year and he took great pride in designing and building his car (an army truck, sort of).

He still gets to swim half the meet anyway, and the coach dangled the idea of entering him in the 12-and-under 500 freestyle. Yipe! 20 lengths of the pool. Not sure if that will happen, but TB did watch the 500 intently this past weekend. Maybe he was working out his race strategy in his head.

Rock Band Party

There is nothing much more hilarious than a bunch of seven and eight year old boys at a Rock Band party. I'm a bit scared how much my kid (the shirtless one) looks like Scott Weiland.

Dear God, What Have We Done?

Santa's big "surprise" this year was Rock Band 2 for the Wii. I'm proud to say the my son is quite an artist with the fake, plastic guitar. He's getting the hang of the fake, plastic drums, too. But let me tell you, he may possibly be the worst . . . singer . . . ever!

Granted, he doesn't know the words to any of the songs, and he's just hearing most of them for the first time, so belting the lyrics out karaoke style is not an easy task. I think he's trying to compensate by shouting louder and louder. Dang, it's awful.

Overall it's a great game. I was reluctant at first, since we already have Guitar Hero, but now that I've played a few times I'm hooked, too.

Pizza Night

My wife went out to cackle with some hens tonight, so TB and I had pizza night. Oftentimes when LBB is out we make up a pizza. No Dominos, Pizza Hut or any of that mess. We make it ourselves. Sometimes I make dough, sometimes we use a Boboli or the store-brand equivalent.

Tonight, we made a sausage pie for the boy, onion and mushroom for me - canned mushrooms, of course - fresh mushrooms on a pizza taste like eating the newspaper. We had some questionable sun-dried tomatoes in the pantry so I tossed a few of those on mine. That was a mistake. Apparently, you have to re-hydrate them or something. I picked them off and threw them away.

TB complained that his pizza was too spicy, but he ate it anyway. Must have been the three (or maybe five or seven) shakes of crushed red pepper I mixed into the sauce.

He boldly decided to put one (1!) mini slice of onion on his pizza, just to try it out. In the end, great pizzas. We both ate well.

After dinner, we played some card games. He has a kid version of hearts that he wanted to try. I couldn't figure out the Engrish directions. It didn't make any sense, until I realized it required 3 or more players. So, on to Ruckus! We love playing Ruckus. Little thought, lots of action.

Ruckus requires you keep score. Just because it's what I do, I almost never use real names at the head of a score sheet. I put down "Big Horse" for myself and "Ding-a-Ling" for him. I didn't think twice about it. I could just as well have put down "Gaseous Gorilla", "Noriega", or "Gwallusp". I meant nothing by it and he didn't even notice.

Then he won the game and took a look at the scoresheet. Of course he laughed about Big Horse, and then asked why I put down "Ding-a-Ling" for him, but laughed about it anyway. I had forgotten his recent protestations about being called "Ding-Dong" (he can be a bit vacuous now and then, so . . . if the shoe fits, right?).

Since he chucked a bit about "Ding-a-Ling", bright one that I am, I figured he might get a kick out of the old Chuck Berry song "My Ding-a-Ling". So we went to the computer and fired up Rhapsody and as soon as the tune started up he scowled and me and asked, "Why does everyone keep calling me a Ding-a-Ling?"

Poor guy. He's all sensitive and I'm just trying to get him to laugh at a goofy song. I told him, "No, we're not calling you a Ding-a-Ling, it's just a silly song, don't get all teenaged and sensitive on me." But he kept scowling, so I shut it off.

Then I showed him a YouTube video of a big dude in his undies dancing to "Milkshake". He laughed and laughed. We're all patched up now like father and son.

Momma might want to think twice about leaving us home alone.

Trouble With Your Ho?

Seen today in Vinton, VA:

I Do Love Noodles

Hey, a few days ago I tried to toss up a cheap post from YouTube; did it the same way I've always stolen material from there, and it never showed up on the blog. Took me a few days to figure out that it was missing, so you can see how much I've been into blogging lately. None! Zip! ZERO!

So here's what I was trying to share. I think it's hilarious, but I was told by two 7-year-olds that it isn't funny at all. They are so wrong.

Catching Up

Let me first say, I know I've been really lame lately. Absent. Infrequent. Scattershot. I'm not making any promises that I'll do better. What was that Pat Benatar line, "No promises, no demands?" Work has been clouding my thoughts lately, and outside of that it just seems like we've been really busy.

Plus, I've been extra tired. I blame that on HBO. We added HBO a couple months ago for the first time, and I'm addicted to Curb Your Enthusiasm, which comes on at 11:00. That's past my bedtime. We're also backed up on things to watch on the DVR. Thing is, I don't like to watch TV until after dark. I like taking full advantage of the daylight. So, since it's not really dark until 9:00, there's not much time to catch up.

That's probably another reason you haven't heard much out of me: summer. I don't want to click away at the keyboard when the sun is shining. Last year, blogging was new and different and I was all "Yee haw! Here I am! Read me!" Not so much anymore.

How was our 4th of July? Quite nice. We stayed around home for the holiday weekend, but it sure seemed like a lot of people cleared out of town. The day after the 4th, we were sitting on the front porch and it seemed like nothing was moving. No cars, no one outside, no noises. Nothing. It felt like everyone went off to a picnic except us.

The pool was packed July 4, though, so not everyone left town. A friend who is from Long Island remarked that afternoon that he hadn't heard any firecrackers yet. In New York, he said, there would have been blasts from backyards all day long. He's right, I remember that, too. Maybe it's because home fireworks are illegal in the state of New York so people think it's more of a big deal. Or we are just too polite and quiet here in the South. One or the other.

For the real fireworks, we watched from a spot a couple blocks up from our house. Used to be a great vantage point, but the trees have grown up so much we had to search for a good gap. Good show once we found it, though.

Other fun things. Let's see. Oh yeah, we got a new kitchen sink. We had a perfectly good stainless steel sink, but it kinda lost it's luster and looked dingy, even after cleaning it. Plus, we had a leak in the fixture that I didn't feel like fixing myself. So, since we were going to hire someone to fix that anyway, we went ahead and replaced the whole darned thing. Old sink went to the Habitat Store.

Seems like we are spending a lot of time at the pool this summer, or at least my family is. With TB on the swim team it gets to feel that way. Practices in the mornings (except Sunday) and then back in the afternoon for fun if it's a hot, sunny day.

TB has had a perfect swim season so far. 12 races, 12 first place gold times, and he has the best times in the RVAA for all four strokes in his age group. Can't beat that! Next weekend is the City/County championship. He might sweep that as well. The boy has a future in swimming if he likes it. He certainly likes winning the ribbons. Sometimes he whines about practicing, though. Ah well, he's only seven. As parents, we are teetering that fine line between encouraging his participation in something he's obviously gifted in, and burning him out so he hates it with the fire of a thousand suns.

TB has gone to a couple camps, but it's been low key the last couple weeks. He has Salem Avalanche camp soon. He's getting more and more into baseball, which makes me happy because that was always my favorite, along with basketball. Oddly, he announced he didn't want to play soccer anymore. Most of his friends play, so we just assumed he would want to again, but no. So, no soccer camp, no rec soccer in the fall. He was an OK soccer player, but not very aggressive. It's like his mind wandered and he wasn't engaged with the game. That's fine. You can't play everything.

It's been rainy so I've had to cut the grass a lot more than usual. At least weekly. Normally, by this time of year it's down to biweekly. It felt like June and July flip-flopped this year. We have a double lot, so it takes a good hour to mow the whole thing. If I weed whack and actually do a good job it's more like two hours. Our lawn is a wreck, though. Full of dead spots, mole holes, clover, rye stalks. It's a mess. Every year I'm tempted to get one of those Chem Lawn treatments, but I never do. Seems like cheating. I dump fertilizer on there myself. Not sure how much it helps. Not much considering the issues I just listed, but I still prefer dealing with it myself. I like yard work for the satisfaction of caring for my own little kingdom, I guess.

Today, LBB took TB and a friend on the swim team annual trip to Wet and Wild Emerald Point down in Greensboro. Then he's having a sleepover at his friend's house tonight. Life can be grand for a kid, can't it? OK, I guess it's pretty grand for me, too, but sometimes I have to concentrate real hard to remember that.

So, while he's away we might do a low key dinner out. LBB wants Alejandro's downtown, which is really good, but we were both just there recently. I've been wanting to try the Annie Moore's Pub out 419, but I wish I could see a menu. I know I want fish n' chips, but LBB is a vegetarian. It only slightly complicates things sometimes. She usually finds something on any menu. She's not one of those vegetarians that makes a big deal about it in a restaurant. Of course she sends me PETA propaganda, but I just delete it.

So, there you have it for now.

Gonna Sip Bacardi Like It's Ya' Birthday

Last week was my son's 7th birthday. Next Monday is my 41st. Thinking about that made me realize that he's had nearly three times as many birthday parties as I've had.

Back when I was a kid, we didn't have a party year after year after year. At least I didn't, and I wasn't invited to all that many, so I'm assuming. Maybe I wasn't very popular.

I can recall all these parties clearly (except maybe the last part of the last two since they involved a fair bit of alcohol).

When I was six we had some kids over to my house. All boys of course. I remember exactly who was there: Bobby Bogle, Mark Phillips, Dennis Kenniston, and Chris and Mark Sidoti. And my mother. That's it! We played games, put on funny hats, and ate cake. It's was a blast! In 1973, we used to dress up pretty nice to go to our friends parties. I'm thinking of the pictures of my party. Everyone wore long pants. One kid even wore a turtle neck. In June.

For my sixteenth, I invited over my two best friends Bill and Dan and each of our girlfriends, Laurie, Cathy, and Deidre. We had a cookout and ate in my parents basement playroom. Then we went down to the park and played basketball for awhile, which was really an excuse to get out of the house so we could go sit by the crick and makeout. (Aside: where I come from a flowing body of water bigger than a stream and smaller than a river is a "crick". Some people called them "creeks". The Dutch call them "kills". But we went to make out by the "crick".)

That party ended in disaster because the gift my girlfriend Deidre gave me was way too small. It was a necklace with an Italian horn - very stylish in 1983. She lost it because we all sort of laughed when I couldn't get it around my neck. She was only 14 at the time, and I remember realizing at that moment that she was a little too immature for me. Of course we went out for another year and a half, but that day was the beginning of the end.

My favorite gift that year was The Police's Syncronicity album. I played it until I wore it out. (Well, no not really. It got peed on by our cats along with all my other great records.)

For my 25th birthday, my wife, who was married to someone else at the time, and another friend, arranged a surprise happy hour one Friday after work (we all worked at the same place). I was living in DC then. One surprise guest was another former co-worker of ours whom I had casually dated a while before. We hooked up again for a couple months as a result of this party. It didn't last, though. She lived in Laurel, Maryland, and it was just too much hassle to trek back and forth. Shallow, huh? Anyway, I had another semi-serious relationship for a year or so, then my wife got a divorce, I sidled on up, and we ended up here. Funny how things work out.

Then last year, my wife threw a big blowout surprise party here at the house. Seafood catered by The Seafood Company (which closed recently, I just found out), lots of friends, beer, and fun. Good times. The diversion that allowed her to set up for the party was a round of golf in the early afternoon, and like a fool I still didn't pick up on the scheme when my playing partner drove home all the way from Ole Monterrey at about 20 MPH.

So there are my four parties. At seven, TB has had a bunch more. Starting about age three (maybe two, I don't remember), we've always had some kind of event party for his friends: the Transportation Museum, Chuck-E-Cheese (once only, thankfully), Thunder Valley (shared party with another boy - that was utter chaos - and we did it two years running). This year, at the Skate Center (although we haven't arranged it yet).

Then, of course, we have the "family" birthday for him here at the house. Since our local family is just the three of us now (four before G'diddy passed on), it usually ends up being several other families as well. So that's how he's had a dozen parties to my four.

Life is good for the TB, no doubt.

A Little R&R

LBB and I have been talking about a weekend away for a good long time, but we've had too much going on to make it happen. So this weekend we headed to Greensboro for a couple days. Greensboro isn't really a place I had thought of as a destination, but LBB and some hens came here last year and stayed at the O Henry Hotel. They had a fine time. After my father's death last month, some good people got together and gave us some gift certificates to stay there.

Beats flowers or a casserole, if you ask me. Also, since we've never gone away without the boy, it was a much needed break. He's gone on a few sleepovers where we had the house to ourselves, but then we still had the house and things to do, dishwasher to unload, etc. Here we can just relax and have fun. And you know what? I'm quite taken by this city.

Just to mix it up a bit, we chose to stay at the Proximity Hotel, which is the sister hotel to the O Henry. Very modern, very green, very nice. Here's a picture of the window in our room. For some perspective, the little thing sticking up in the middle is a beer bottle.

The big X in the window did make it feel a bit like there might have been a missile aimed at us, but otherwise it is a fantastic hotel room.

Having never been to Greensboro (except for the airport), I found myself very pleasantly surprised. It's about twice-and-a-half the population of Roanoke. In many ways it reminded me of Richmond's West End, except that the streets are laid out in the most twisted arrangement I've ever seen. Except for the most immediate downtown area (and even there) there are very few streets that run it a straight line for more than a block or two. There are a lot of diagonals and cut-throughs. Actually, I had fun finding my way around.

They have a fantastic farmer's market (one of two, but extra crowded this weekend because the other suffered extreme storm damage). We loaded up and filled a cooler to bring home.

Saturday night we took a shuttle downtown to an area rich with restaurants, clubs, and other interesting sights to see. Only hitch was that LBB's cell phone slipped out of her pocket in the car and we had to call the shuttle driver back once we noticed it missing.

Our son had a great weekend, too. Birthday party, sleepovers with friends, teeball game, an evening downtown seeing Monkey Fuzz. The kid has got it made. Of course we worried about him while we were gone, but not too much, because he always has a good time and he had lots of good people taking care of him.

Thanks everyone. We had a blast!

Extreme Chore Weekend

We've had a huge and growing list of chores to tackle around here, and April was pretty much lost, so this weekend we tore it up.

Things started slowly on Friday, no set plans, just the family at home, making some grilled fajitas and dining on the deck.

Then, my neighbor suggested a few orange sodas at the pub down the street. LBB and TB proceeded toward a wholesome and sensible bedtime, whereas I stumbled home about midnight. OK, I know that's not all that late, but considering our usual bedtime is 9 or 10, it was late for me.

Still, I woke up Saturday ready to take on the world. TB had an early birthday party to attend at 9:30, so I took the opportunity to hit the Home Depot to prepare for extreme home chore weekend. Then, I needed a few things for the car, so I went to Advance Auto.

After the boy's party, the plan was to have lunch downtown and hit the market for some herbs to pot and put out on the deck and some veggies, just for eating. We forgot about the chili cookoff going on, but it was no big deal, we found a parking spot within five minutes (and that was with an extry thousand or two people downtown . . . I hear a lot of complainin', but believe me, parking in downtown Roanoke is no problem.)

The market veggies didn't look so good, except for some whopping big onions and some great summer squash, so we skipped that, but we eventually found our herbs. We had lunch in the Market Building we hundreds of others. The weather was great, so Saturday was a huge day for downtown Roanoke.

Then the chores began. TB had a buddy over, so he was happy. I decided to start with some exterior touch up painting. A layer of Killz on Saturday and a top coat on Sunday. Discovered some rotting fascia wood under some of my gutters. That was disheartening.

Then, what else did we do: between the two days I did more painting, washed the cars while TB washed the bikes, did the primer, color, and clearcoat painting on the damaged Camry, fertilized the lawn, hauled all the inside plants out, planted the hot pepper garden, cleaned the garage (including suspending the bicycles from hooks on the wall - been meaning to do that for six years), replaced some window screens, patched some foundation cracks and a gaping hole that has emerged on our front porch steps, put out some ant traps - little black ants are my mortal enemy, hacked down a bunch of brush next to the fish ponds, and generally piddled around with other overdue tasks.

LBB attempted to begin the dreaded attic cleanout. Every time I go up there I want to hurl up my breakfast it's such a mess. I don't like pack-ratting, and we've managed to fill every nook and cranny of our nearly 4000 sq. ft. It's time for a purge! But it got hot up there pretty quickly so she didn't get too far. Then she tackled the hall coat closet, which was also a mess. This inspired me to go through my dresser since we had a Goodwill bag filling up. Sadly, I had about eight pair of jeans and shorts that I can never hope to squeeze into again. Out the door. Then, she planted the herbs in pots and did all the watering and Miracle Gro'ing.

We had to pull out all our bedroom furniture, because we're having the room painted today, so that's exciting.

Saturday night, we went to our friend's house and ordered take out from the Isaacs restaurant over in Grandin village. That was my first experience with them, but I assure you it won't be the last. Very, very good Greek food. I had a falafel sandwich and a blue cheese side salad. The falafel was a bit lighter and, I thought, better seasoned that the more common middle eastern variety.

TB spend Sunday afternoon bike riding, throwing baseballs, and otherwise carrying on with one of his friends. Then Sunday evening there was a picnic planned at the playground by Penn Forest Elementary. I don't know if it was the allergies or exhaustion, but he initially threw a tantrum and declined to go! I'm not sure I've ever seen my son turn down an event. Of course, it probably didn't help that I had already reneged in favor of staying home to do some paperwork for my Mom. In the end, he went, had a fine time, came home a bit before dark and continued to rage on by riding his bike up and down the sidewalk for another half hour.

He was most proud because he topped off his busy day by skidding on his bike and blowing out a tire. Considering that it was a $40 bike and he's had it for three years, and he's got a birthday coming up, I'm thinking he just might be getting a new bike. As long as he cans it with the tantrums.

What a weekend!

Guitar Hero III: Sponge v. Siphon

Wow. I watched TB kick the crap out of a few songs on the Hard level of Guitar Hero III tonight. If you have ever played this crazy thing, you know, as an adult, with responsibilities, deadlines, alarm clocks, and, well ...... sadly diminishing autonomic reflex skills, this shit ain't easy.

I have managed to get 40/42 songs on the Easy level, but I can't get past "Raining Blood" (by Slayer), or the guitar battle with "Lou".

TB has rocketed through the Medium level and pretty much wants to blow off the Hard level and move on to Expert.

He soaks this in. I leak it out unless I stick with it day after day. Spring is here. I'd rather be outside, so I'm not practicing much. Neither is he, though, except for a few minutes before school.

What is amazing is how he absorbs the notes flying at him. I asked, and he confirmed, that he can see the whole screen at once, read the words that pop up, see the other guitar neck in a "battle", and not miss a beat. Somehow, he sees the big picture without losing the details. Not me. All I can do is focus on my guitar neck and the notes I'm supposed to (have) play(ed).

Fun stuff. He may be the next Eric Clapton.

The best part, though, is that he wants me to keep up with him. I've told him ever since he understood language that the one thing I cannot stand is cheating. He gets it, but he wants me right with him in the competition, so he offered to play my band (Frumpus) and get me caught up.

If he plays my last two songs on the Easy level for me, we've cheated. It doesn't make me a better player, either. He knows it, I know it, and it won't happen, but he still wants to play those two songs for me so I can get to Medium. In the end, he suggested I just watch him play the songs so I can learn the notes.

He is so much like a little me. He wants me to play along and do just as well as him, but most of all he wants to play fair. Watching him play Guitar Hero, and almost everything else he does, I know he gets it. He's going to be a good boy.

Six Words

I was recently tagged by Country Dew with a meme for a six word memoir. That’s fitting, because whenever I work on my column or my blog, which has been infrequent lately, my son asks if I’m working on my memoirs. I think he learned that from his Momma.

He likes the word so much that when tasked in school to create a timeline of his life, he titled it “Noah’s Memoirs”. Memoirs of a six year old, that’s a good one.

So, I’ve been pondering this on and off for the last few days. Six words. That’s very tough to do, although enough people nailed it that it was turned into a book. I’m having trouble with the approach. We all wear many hats, mine: husband, father, son, brother, friend, writer, employee, co-worker, homeowner, home project manager, music lover, hobbyist, weekend athlete, sports fan, club member, etc. Then you have carbon life form versus sense of self.

Where do I begin? How can this be done in six words? I came up with a few that only apply in specific contexts:

Desk job daydreamer. Needs a vacation.

Father of one, master of none.

Not one to miss a meal.

But how should I sum up the whole package? I’m not sure it’s even possible, so I’m going to cop out, quote my all time favorite band The Police (excuse the pun).

“De Do Do Do, De Da . . . .”

I've never tagged anyone with one of these, so maybe it's a good time to start. There are a few neighborhood bloggers I can torture with this. Let's see your six word memoirs Katie, KHE, and Rob.

Filler: Best Game Ever

Be careful if you start playing this new game. It will eat up a couple hours before you know what hit you.

Mindless Distractions From Harsh Reality

My brain has been consumed with issues lately, so I've spent all my free time just trying to find little diversions. I've played a ton of Bejeweled (a Shockwave game) this past month. That and Wii bowling. Is there a better time waster than that? Well, yeah, I guess real bowling, but that costs money and you have to wear the community shoes.

My top Wii bowling score is 226. Not bad, but I can't seem to come close again. My theory is that as the battery power depletes, the responsiveness of the Wii controller changes and alters your shot. Yeah, that's it.

The other thing I've been doing is listening to tons of old favorite songs on Rhapsody. Right now I'm hearing Promised You A Miracle by Simple Minds. Those of you who only know Don't You Forget About Me from Breakfast Club, well, they had a lot more songs that just that one. You missed out.

Ooh! Now a deep cut from Live. They may be a bit goofy, but I maintain that Throwing Copper is a classic album.

Why am I whiling away in a world of whimsy? Well I'm trying to escape when I can.

It looks like my father is winding down. Poor man has bounced back and forth six times between the hospital and a nursing home over the last month and a half. He's in the end stages of Alzheimer's disease and has had a rapid decline recently. He's nearly unable to swallow now, and it's really not practical, helpful or advisable to give him a feeding tube. There won't be any miracles here. He's under palliative care, and he's comfortable. That's all that can be done for him now.

My mother is a mess, but trying to be strong. That's another topic for another day. She's done a heroic job caring for Dad at home over the last many years.

For now, I'm being supportive from afar, trying to decide on a daily basis when I need to get back up there to NY, and distracting myself as best as I can.

Which reminds me, for the first time I'm completely consumed with American Idol. So who are you pulling for? I like Chikeze Eze. Not just because of his name, but mostly because of it.

Parade

I'm getting ready to go pick up my wife's car from the shop. Check that one off the list, and then we will fix my fender bender in January.

Then at 6:00, TB and I get to ride on a float with his Cub Scout pack in the downtown Christmas parade. I think we get to hurl candy at bystanders.

I haven't been in a parade since second grade, when the Flutophone players marched and tooted out "Marching to Pretoria" or something like that. Remember the flutophone? Do kids still play those things? I remember thinking they were shrill even when I was eight years old!



Then we have about a hundred parties this weekend and I need to start some Christmas shopping. Usually, I buy a lot online. This year, I haven't done anything. Zero. Nada. I know what I'm looking for, I just haven't had time to get out. Maybe I'll drag the boy for my annual visit to the mall on Saturday. I'll bribe him with a Chik-Fil-A.


Have a good weekend, everyone!

An Ish Wish Dish

I'm right proud of my son tonight. Last time we had a guys weekend, I made a delicious chicken casserole. He loved it, but it was full of deathly heart clogging fat and sodium.

So, of course tonight I wanted to make it again. TB told me that he thought is was good, but "no, no, no casseroles tonight, Daddy!"

I suggested meat loaf, which I haven't had homemade since I went to college in 1985. I'm craving it, but since LBB is vegetarian, it's not likely to be served here on Jefferson Street.

"I don't even know what meat loaf is, Daddy! No, no, no!"

He suggested we make pizzas together. We've done that a few times, it's great fun and tasty, but I wasn't in the mood for that tonight.

"How about fish?" I queried.

"Sure, I like fish," he said.

"If you had a choice of pizza or fish, which would you pick?"

"A wish. I would wish and wish and wish for fish in my dish."

Yeah, OK, he was (sorta) quoting Dr. Seuss, but I was pleased that he picked fish over pizza. Surely he's not thinking of it being more healthful, but he is branching out nicely with his meal preferences. The boy is growing up and turning into a real human being, with thoughts and feelings and conversations. I love it, but it makes me a little sad, too.

This morning we both had haircuts, and on the way home, I remembered that LBB had already gone to the lake, so I thought it might be a good time to go find the Christmas light penguins that she wanted. We hit the local K-mart, but they were out. So we headed to the next closest one and we got the last set on the shelf.

And as much as TB was excited about surprising Momma with the penguins, he still reminded me, "Daddy? You know what we should be thinking about? We should be thinking about what to get Momma for Christmas."

He's a good boy, he loves his Momma, and he's great fun to be with. We tossed the football for darned near two hours this afternoon after putting the lights on the bushes and setting up the new penguins. Now, he's racing the Hudson Hornet (Doc) against the Pennzoil #1 car (circa late 90's NASCAR), and he asked me when I'll be done writing my "memoirs" (his name for my blog, a la LBB).

Bath, stories, and bed. The boy has it made. Nothing makes me happier.

Whiiii!

Don't tell my boy, but my wife found us a Wii yesterday. Oh, boy, am I'm looking forward to this Christmas now! I've never been much of a gamer, but the one time I got ahold of a Wii, I was immediately hooked.

Further details tomorrow. Things have been busy on Jefferson St. for the past week or so, and work thoughts have shoved any notion of blogging right out my brain and on to the sidewalk.

TB and I are having a "boys weekend" Saturday and Sunday. That usually leads to some good stories. LBB will be off to the lake to cluck with the hens, so maybe we will get the Christmas decorations started and surprise her.

Booooo!

Happy Halloween, everyone. Tonight, LBB and I will be heading to a pre-trick-or-treat party and then we will take turns manning the door and escorting the boy. It looks like it should be a warm night, so I'll throw open the windows and play eerie music to frighten all the little ones.

As a last tribute to a waning Star Wars obsession, TB is dressing as Jango Fett tonight. He's was bugging me to make him a jet pack to wear on his back, but he hasn't mentioned it in a couple weeks. I hope he forgot, because I did. Oops! I think it would be annoying after awhile, anyway.

Be safe and spooky this evening!