The Roaming Chrome Dome

A Fort Hood Fourth of July!

2008-07-06T12:23:00.003-05:00

On the Fourth of July, Erin and the girls and I went on Fort Hood to see the fireworks. I work on Fort Hood so it really is no difficulty for us to get on Fort Hood. In addition to the fireworks, they also had tanks that you could go inside of and a whole festival going on. It would have been too difficult to go on a tour of the tanks with the girls in tow, so we skipped that and the festival and just watched the fireworks.

The fireworks show was awesome! We kept seeing fireworks displays that would have been the grand finale anywhere else but were just part of the show on Fort Hood. Trust the Army to know how to blow stuff up!

The Control Freak

2008-06-08T21:04:00.004-05:00

Yes, I am a control freak. I enjoy being the boss at work. I would imagine that I enjoy being the boss at work so much because I never get to be the boss at home. I live in a house with 3 females.

Before you start to pity me, please keep in mind that I am fine with my wife being in control at home. My wife is a stay at home mom and she is good at it. Therefore, this is her office. I would be really annoyed if she came up to the hospital and started rearranging the stuff on MY desk, therefore I understand how she must feel to see my classy-looking shirts, ties, and slacks laying on the floor after a draining white collar day. I get it and try to change my actions to meet her needs.

One thing I may never get used to is the control my two daughters exercise over me. You might be thinking…they’re 4 and 2, how much control do they really have. If you’re asking that, then you must have two fewer children than I. For example, you’re laying in bed and you hear a blood-curdling scream echoing through the house from the girls’ bedroom. You sprint from the master bedroom, through the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, and into the room your daughters sleep in to find the older one throwing a hissy fit because she cannot find the rock she likes to sleep with.

That’s right. I said, “Rock!”

How much control do you really have in that situation? Ninety-percent of the time it’s crap like that but it’s that one time that you ignore the screams that could cause the sick or dead kid. Regardless of whether you think the kid is choking on something or she dropped her stupid rock, you still have to sprint to her bedroom and verify. So, who’s in control? She is. I guarantee she wouldn’t come check on me if I let out a blood-curdling scream.

So, the point of that observation is to share a quick story with you. A few weeks ago, my daughter wanted me to play dollies with her. Did I mention that I am a man? If we could play Uzi-wielding dollies versus Nazis, I could do that! But no…it turned out to be dollies versus Caleb’s love for life. Ugh. I tried to play with her and it was tough…until…I saw the Duplo blocks.

The girls have these huge lego things that I thought might just save the day. I said, “Watch what I can do, Gracie,” and I quickly built Angus (her Cabbage Patch Kid) a supersuit out of Duplo blocks. I wanted him to be Iron Angus but my daughter prefers the name Super Angus. Now, that’s how Daddies play dollies!

So, a few weeks later they got bored of him and they wanted Angus back, so they cracked open his supersuit like a walnut and extricated him. After a week of Angus not being super anymore, Gracie requested that I build Angus a new supersuit. I was thrilled because I knew it was either that or change Angus’s pretend diaper and feed him.

As I was building his new supersuit, something horrible happened… Gracie started helping me and trying to take charge! I was so enjoying being in control and seeing Gracie sit back and let me take control. All of a sudden, she wanted to be in control… No! I know it’s a bit immature, but I just didn’t want to share my toys. I tried to divert Gracie to other activities but that wouldn’t work. Finally, there was only one solution left. In desperation, I said “Gracie, What’s that behind you?” Gracie turned to look and when she did, I knocked Angus in his new supersuit off of the table. Blocks went everywhere.

Gracie’s head whipped around and her eyes got big. I said, “Oh no, he fell off of the table and broke.” You, the reader, will notice that I never said it was an accident. I didn’t lie once. She immediately wanted to rebuild him. I said, “I am so tired now, let’s start getting ready for bed.”

Gracie is still asking when we will rebuild Super Angus. I keep telling her that we will someday. What I don't tell her is that I have a very broad definition of what "someday" means.

I am in control again, for now...

Caleb, Building Coordinator/Dead Animal Removal Rookie

2007-07-15T10:14:00.001-05:00

I don't know if any of you out there in Blog Land know this, but I am the Building Coordinator for all of the wards (congregations) that meet in our Church building. You'll notice throughout this post that I am translating our Mormon-isms into terms that the general readership will understand. So, I have a two fold job.

1) I maintain the schedule of events for everything going on at the building. I give people approval to use this building on certain nights and keep events from conflicting.

2) I also assign 4 families from my Ward (Congregation) each week to take a turn cleaning the Church and I spend the early part of my Saturday morning at the Church making sure things get done. As an aside to my original story, you don't realize just how few members are active until you are the trying to find families to clean the building.

So, I was at the Church yesterday morning helping the families clean. We quickly realized that there was a foul stench in the air. The smell was nauseating and pervading the whole building. As the families started cleaning, I decided to track down the source of that smell. So, I followed my nose...it always knows.

My ultra-sensitive nose led me to room 109. A normal Sunday School classroom. I looked inside and didn't see anything. Like I said, this was a normal classroom not the Relief Society room (what we Mormon's call our Women's group), Young Women's room, Seminary room (classroom for the early morning class we have for our high school students), or Primary room (classroom where the little children meet on Sundays). If it had been one of those rooms, I might have had to do some digging. But every other classroom in our Church is pretty much what you see is what you get.

I sniffed the room and it was definitely where the smell was coming from. It smelled like a dead animal but I couldn't see the culprit. I figured the smell must be coming from the vents.

After the families finished, the Tolman's (one of the families that participated in the clean-up) and I decided to take another stab at finding the source of the stink. So, we went back to room 109 to take another look around. Still we saw nothing. In the room was an intake vent and return vent. I put my nose up to each in turn and neither of the vents smelled any worse than the rest of the room. So, I decided the smell must be in the ceiling.

I stacked some chairs to make an extremely wobbly step stool. I stepped up on it and pushed the ceiling tile out of the way. I stuck my head up into the ceiling. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but in the meantime I verified that the smell was indeed much stronger up there. After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I looked around me. I figured the dead animal was probably on top of some of the pink insulation up there. I checked it all and couldn't see it.

At that point, some movement on the ceiling tile directly in front of me caught my eye. I looked down at it and saw a dead opossum with maggots all over it. Such was my startlement that I made a none too graceful leap/stumble off of my precarious ladder.

I was so shaken it took me a moment to explain my finding to Angela Tolman (her husband had gone out to the car to do something). We decided that we needed to dispose of it so we walked to the Member Custodial Closet to get a trash bag. While we were there I looked for something to scoop the little bugger up with. I grabbed the dustpan from one of the brooms and we headed back to room 109.

I went back up my makeshift ladder while Angela got the trashbag ready. Over and over, I attempted to scoop the Opossum's little body into the dustpan. Over and over his little, maggot-filled body rolled and oozed out of the way of the dustpan. I wasn't able to get him into the dustpan but I was able to move him over by the edge of the ceiling tile and that gave me an idea.

I had Angela Tolman hold the trash bag up as high as she could by that edge of the ceiling. I picked up the other edge and tried to bounce the little creep off the tile and into the bag. That didn't work because now he was glued to the tile.

That was when Angela's husband, Wade, entered the room. He saw the opossum and saw what we were trying to do. He took the trash bag and put his hand in it like it was a glove. He reached up in the ceiling and grabbed the opossum and carried it out to the trash.

I'm so thankful we had a real man around.

What Dad had...and more!

2007-07-13T18:47:00.000-05:00

So, my wife and children are in the living room playing while I make Manwich. Our Pug dog, Beijing, is chasing them around the living room.

Does all of this sound boring to you? If you answered "Yes", then you obviously don't live my life. You see, I travel for a living. I am one of those guys who catches a plane to work on Monday morning and then catches one home on Friday for the weekend. Then I rinse and repeat the next week.

Although this is better than when I was a contractor with the Department of Defense (I was home about 36 hours every other week), it gets old really quick.

I grew up in the home of a software programmer and a hospice nurse. Trust me...they were home every night. Although I've always dreamed of seeing the world, I also saw myself coming home from work at night and hearing "Daddy!" I guess I want what my Dad had...and more.

What's that country song, "When you're doing what you're able to put food out on the table. In the arms of the woman that you love, that's something to be proud of."

Caleb made a funny!

2007-06-19T01:00:00.000-05:00

On the plane last Wednesday, I made a funny. I used to be a funny guy but not so much anymore. I just don't have the time to sit around thinking up whitty come backs.

So, everybody had boarded the plane and we were waiting for the doors to close. As we waited, it started to get very warm. We were all sitting there sweltering in the heat. Somebody yelled out, "Turn the air on!" The flight attendant explained to the man and the rest of us how the air will come on as soon as the pilot starts the engines.

So, I yelled out "Then can we open the windows or put the top down!"

That brought the house down!

vlog 1

2007-04-12T23:19:00.000-05:00

What Matters Most

2006-10-29T23:29:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Erin and I took the girls to a Pumpkin Patch to find a little pumpkin for Eliza. We looked through all of the pumpkins and took pictures with them. We also got pictures of them in front of a scarecrow. We didn’t find a pumpkin for Eliza so we got Gracie a gourd instead to use as a maraca.

We went back to our house and ate lunch and Erin and I put the girls down for a nap.

After the nap, we got ourselves and the girls dressed in our Halloween costumes. Then we went up to the church for the Halloween party. Gracie got to play lots of games and jump around in the bounce house. We ate cupcakes and candy and were bestowed with an award for the best “Family” costumes. Erin and the girls were fairy princesses and I was the frog prince who they had unsuccessfully tried to return to human form by planting lots of kisses on.

This morning, I went into Gracie’s room to wake her up and she turned to me and said, “Daddy? Do you remember yesterday…when we laid in my bed and sang songs together?” I was absolutely blown away! We did several memorable things yesterday and the one that meant the most to her was when we were laying in her bed singing nursery songs.

What a sweet kid!

Getting Jiggy Wit' It

2006-10-09T23:48:00.000-05:00

You may have noticed that my page has gone all musical. Well, I have been trying to learn how to play guitar for a while now. I've gotten a few songs down now so I recorded one of them on my laptop, edited it, wrote a simple Flash movie to play it in ("The Chromie Player"), and posted it on my page. As soon as I record a few more, I am going to make it randomly pick from all of the songs I've recorded and uploaded. And eventually I will put some buttons on the player to raise, lower, and mute the volume, skip songs, and go back to the last song. Also the picture of the supposed album cover is a link that leads to...nowhere. Eventually I'll make it link to an actual page.

For now, I'm tired and want to go to sleep.

Drowsily Nauseous

2006-10-04T09:47:00.000-05:00

I've noticed that I have a tendency to get drowsy in settings where there isn't much direct mental stimulation. I recently went to the doctor and she prescribed me medication to help me deal with it. It's working but not in the way she predicted it would. It doesn't make me feel any less drowsy. It makes me feel nauseous all day long. There's no way I can get drowsy when I'm nauseous.

So, I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad that the medicine is working.

Dubious Honor Bestowed Upon Wichita Kansas

2006-09-29T15:56:00.000-05:00

Wednesday evening after a 6 1/2 hour drive, I'm cruising into Wichita, Kansas when I saw a shocking sign. I had to rub my tired eyes and look again to verify that it really does say what I thought it said.

Wow, is this true? Supposedly, the numbers say so.

What this billboard is saying may be the truth (and if so that's absolutely horrible), but is it really something you want to advertise to people who are passing your city by on the interstate? I am not saying, hide this information. I'm not saying that at all. But share this information locally on the local TV stations and in the local newspapers.

The billboard was placed there by the "Operation Rescue" group. "Operation Rescue" important message, bad advertising method.

Boss Hogg's New Ride

2006-09-29T15:50:00.000-05:00

I went to Kansas the other day for a job interview. I drove back to town last night. I saw something very interesting and I have to say...STUPID...on the way home.

I'm driving down the road and all of a sudden, I notice that some authentic steer horns started to pass me on my right. For some reason that startled me. So, I gently swerved to the left to give the steer extra room to pass me. Hearing an additional growl of engine, the steer horns started to pass me and it was then that I saw they were attached to the front of a vehicle. Although I would never attach steer horns to the front of my vehicle, large trucks, large SUVs, and old convertible Cadillacs look okay with them mounted on the front of their hoods. So, I waited with baited breath to see which one of these three acceptable steer horn mounting vehicles it would be.

The answer...none of these 3! They were mounted on the front of a white Nissan Xterra!

Now I have no problem with the Nissan Xterra. My brother-in-law owns, drives, and loves his and it's not a bad car at all. But now from personal experience, I can tell you that the Xterra looks ridiculous with steer horns mounted on the front of it.

Greg (my brother-in-law) I beg you to not mount steer horns on the front of your Nissan Xterra. I'll do anything to keep that from happening.

I Have Something Very Important To Tell You

2006-09-26T10:25:00.000-05:00

http://obey.msn.com/default.aspx?id=tGBWWC6M1tjPX4Ns8ZSsviK_kS7gDghHlZFllrIwvzvbCInk9RBeRw9noiwsS0PAbwEmx

Feeding The Missionaries

2006-09-25T19:37:00.000-05:00

We had the missionaries over for dinner tonight. Man, it's been too long since we've had them over. One of the Elders has been in our ward for 6 months and this is the first time we've had him over.

I have a lot of respect for our missionaries. Giving up two consecutive years of your life to serve the Lord is no small gesture.

Waiting to Pee

2006-09-18T12:40:00.000-05:00

I have to take a pre-employment drug test for my new job. Not a big deal. I don't mind urinating. Some people do it out of necessity, but I also enjoy it. I decided to have the drug test done today. I filled up on liquids and then I bought myself a Dr Pepper. I really enjoy my Dr Peppers and in this case, it will be also be useful. Because I have heard that Dr Pepper is a diuretic. Perfect!

I filled up my bladder and went to Quest Diagnostics to get my test. I got to the front desk and told the woman why I was there. She told me to come back at 1:00 pm because they are all at lunch.

I'm sitting here at my computer. Crossing and uncrossing my legs. Waiting for my chance to urinate.

Wish me luck holding it in...

Russian Spider-Man

2006-09-17T00:52:00.000-05:00


This is pretty cool footage I stumbled into of a pretty amazing Russian kid. I don't believe this is all filmed in one take as we're supposed to think it is but that doesn't make it any less cool.

2 Out of 3 Females Technologically Savvy, Not Bad Odds

2006-09-15T00:43:00.000-05:00

Wonder of wonders, Erin's gotten interested in MySpace. I helped her
set up an account tonight so she can easily post photos for her
friends to see. I'm really pretty proud of the fact that my wife isn't
frightened away by technology. She must get it from her mother. Erin's
mom uses Ebay often and today I helped her list a table and chairs for
sale on it.

I'd say it runs in the family except for the fact that my daughter
gets upset and cries because the screensaver on the computer stops
when she moves the mouse.

A Tribute to Caleb "The Kangaroo Feeder"

2006-09-06T17:54:00.000-05:00

To Stare Or Not To Stare

2006-09-05T20:13:00.000-05:00

I was at the grocery store yesterday when I saw a woman walking into the store who almost looked as hot as my wife. She had on a very tight top that made it very obvious what she felt were her two most impressive assets. I don't know the woman, but she's probably right.

On her t-shirt was written some catchy or clever phrase. The contours of her chest skewed the shapes of some of the letters making them nearly unrecognizable. Because of this fact, I was forced to stare intently at her chest to figure out what was written on it. When I was confident that I had read her shirt correctly, I looked up... right into her eyes that were staring straight back at me.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm not a breast man. I enjoy the view as much or even more than the next man. And I don't blame her for thinking that I was ogling them. BUT I was reading the shirt! Furthermore, if you put a picture or a sentence on any part of your body, expect people to stare at that part of your body.

Okay, ladies. A little help here from you. Zeke, get Amanda's advice for this one. Do you ladies get offended when you catch a guy looking at your chest or your butt and ignoring the rest of your body? Would you get offended if the part of the body the guy is staring at has writing or a picture on it?

I pretty much know what makes my wife tick, but all you other women are a complete mystery to me.

Seinfeld, "The Implant"

Elaine: I never knew you were so into breasts. I thought you were a leg man.
Jerry: A leg man? Why would I be a leg man? I don’t need legs. I have legs.

You Can't Stop the Urine, Nobody Can Stop the Urine

2006-09-05T19:48:00.000-05:00

I learned something very important tonight.

A few minutes ago, I was changing my 5 month old daughter's diaper. I had pulled off the wet diaper and was cleaning her behind with a wipe when all of a sudden...she started peeing. Now albeit, it would have been worse if it was a boy because the pee stream would have been shooting straight up like a lemonade fountain. It's still bad enough when it's a girl because the urine dribbles everywhere.

This is my younger daughter and, oddly, the first time I've experienced this phenomenon with her. It happened several times I can remember with the older daughter. This being the first time in 2 years I've had to deal with this, none of my infant surprise urination training kicked in. I panicked and grabbed the wet wipe I was holding and held it up to her "tinkler" in a futile attempt to dam the flow at its source. Surprise! It didn't stop it. Thankfully, the flow of urine just looked more plentiful than it really was and I was able to clean it up really fast.

Not The Best Picture

2006-09-01T10:04:00.000-05:00

So, I was reading the news this morning on the internet when I came across an article about how the US Basketball Team stunk it up and lost at a world championship basketball game. The article was mildly interesting until I came across this photo:

I know your eyes are initially drawn to the huge basketball player but do me a favor...look at the referee. Is he picking his nose?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not making fun of the man. We all have to pick at some point and sometimes the crusty can get sharp edges and hurt. At least mine sometimes do. At that point, a booger-ectomy must be performed immediately.

The timing of the picture is really bad. I just think that the writer of this article could have chosen a different picture to include with it. Or the photographer could have turned over all of his photos but this one. Or the editor could have insisted that they use a different photo.

Somebody should have had the decency to protect this man's right to pick!

Do Not Play The Lottery With These Numbers...No Matter What!

2006-08-30T00:03:00.000-05:00

4 8 15 16 23 42

The Local Proctologist's House

2006-08-29T13:07:00.000-05:00

I took this photo in Germany. I can't be certain, but I think this may be where the local proctologist lives.

Now, for the close-up.

Inventory of a Cluttered Car

2006-08-28T23:34:00.000-05:00

I was driving home today when I happened to look around my cluttered
car. Holy crap, it was filthy! The last month has been one of the
roughest months of my life. The rougher life gets, the less motivated
I get to clean up my car.

So on my way home today, I stopped at one of those self car washes to
clean out my car. In the car, I found...

5 empty cans of Ensure. Erin thinks that just because we're in our
late 20's, we should behave like old farts and drink old fart drinks.

12 empty Dr. Pepper bottles. I am an absolute Dr. Pepper addict. When
I left on my mission, I was worried that I had 2 Dr. Pepper-free years
ahead of me. Luckily, they started importing Dr. Pepper right after I
got there.

Tons and tons of dirt. I moved an old wheelbarrow on the back seat of
my car about a week ago. I also moved 2 ladders that were about twice
the length of the car in the car the same day.

16 stacks of paperwork. We have so much unfiled paperwork in our house
that Erin is about to pull her beautiful red hair out just thinking
about it. Therefore I've started discreetly keeping some of it in my
car. Most of it turned out to be not worth saving, so it got the old
heave-ho.

The car is now clean and ready for additional filth.

The Joke Gone Bad

2006-08-24T00:31:00.000-05:00

Last night, Erin was feeling overwhelmed with all of the laundry that needs to be done around here. Gracie's diaper leaked all over her bed and bedding the night before and Eliza's poop came out the back of her diaper and all through her clothes. Needless to say there was some of the filthiest laundry in the world to be done yesterday.

Since she was feeling so down, she e-mailed her friends to complain. She then told me that she did it. She also thought I should read it.
So, I read it.

I did a reply to all and made a playful rebuttal. It was slightly sarcastic, but it was still meant to be silly.

So far about half of the people the e-mail was sent to have responded with concerns that our marriage is going down the toilet. These people
actually think our playful e-mail banter was real.

So, in case any of you reading this are wondering...the marriage is great. We're very happy together.

Besides, Erin couldn't not love me if she tried. My raw animal magnetism will keep her coming back.

Reunion

2006-08-20T02:04:00.000-05:00

Today we went to Erin's 10 year high school reunion. She had a good time. l didn’t have as good of a time as she did, but I wasn’t supposed to. It was Erin’s event. I attended 2 high schools and both of their reunions were tonight, as well. I don’t feel upset that we went to her reunion instead of mine. She enjoyed high school a lot more than I did.

JonBenet Ramsey

2006-08-17T11:05:00.000-05:00

When I was returning home from my mission, all of the news in the states was on this little beauty queen who was brutally murdered. Lots of suspicion for the murder was thrown on the parents. I can't say that I reviewed the facts any, but it sure appeared as if the family may have played some role in this murder.

To my surprise (and I am sure everybody else's), I started seeing articles yesterday saying that JonBenet's murderer has been captured. It was a perverted pedophile who lived down the street from the Ramseys when they originally lived outside Atlanta, Georgia.

This creepy, little monster above everything else wants people to know that he "loved JonBenet very much." That, of course, is why he admits to raping her, planning to kidnap her, and murdering her.

Read the article here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14379566/

I have to say, finding this guy after 10 years...that's a miracle! Maybe other miracles will occur. Who knows, Natalee Holloway may come strolling home any day now.

The Vista View Vigilante - Chapter 3

2006-08-17T10:53:00.000-05:00

From the safety and security of the inside of my locker, I could hear the crowd dispersing and heading to their classes. You know, with all the vents in a locker door, you would expect it to stay somewhat cool inside of one…wouldn’t you? Well, as I found out that day, they’re not. Within the space of a few seconds, sweat started streaming down my face. I started feeling like I was going to die.

Then I heard the bell go off that signifies that classes have started. In my mind’s eye, I could see my teacher taking roll and marking me as absent. She starts reading the roll and kids are saying, “Here,” when she calls their name. She gets to my name and sits and waits for my reply and gets none. She calls my name again. Still no answer. And nobody bothers telling her that I am not absent, I am just in my locker.

Activity at the door of my locker stopped my daydreaming and brought my attention back to my situation. It sounded as if someone was trying to work the combination on my locker. They must have known my combination because after a few seconds I heard a click in the locking mechanism. Because of the bright light of the school hallway as opposed to the darkness in my locker, I had to shield my eyes as the door of my locker opened. I felt a hand helping me out of my locker and as my eyes adjusted I could see that it was the school janitor, Mr. Jango, to the rescue.

Mr. Jango was covered in garbage. The old black man also had blue paint all over his denim overalls. And worst of all was the fact that he kept rubbing his backside. All of a sudden I remembered, it wasn’t just Bearclaw I had knocked over with my book. It had also hit Mr. Jango, too.

“Mr. Jango”, I started, “I’m really sorry about hitting you with my book and knocking you…” Mr. Jango held up his hand in a stop speaking gesture and smiled. He said, “Don’t worry about it Cole. Things like that happen sometimes.” He looked at the clock on the wall and then down at his paint spattered overalls and said, “Well, your class has already started without you, so why don’t we head over to my office and get cleaned up?” Without waiting for my answer, he turned around and started walking down the hall. I raced after him and caught up to him quickly. It wasn’t to do considering that he was 80 years old if he was a day and had a terrible limp.

As I followed him down the hall, I wiped the sweat from my forehead. Although I was thankful that Mr. Jango had rescued me, I couldn’t help but wish that I could have been rescued by somebody else. It’s not that Mr. Jango is a bad guy, he is just…well, quirky.

Sometimes when I am in a crowd of students, I will feel like I am being watched. When I look around, I will undoubtedly see Mr. Jango across the crowded room looking directly at me. When he sees me looking back at him, he will look away and try to pretend that it was just a passing glance. But it’s not. I always wonder if I did something wrong or if I am in trouble. I know this sounds strange, but sometimes when he is looking at me like that, I start thinking that he trying to size me up…like a tailor sizing someone up for a tuxedo. I know that doesn’t make any sense but that is how it seems .

As we walked, I happened to glance at the floor. When I did, I noticed that Mr. Jango was leaving blue footprints as he walked. “Uh, Mr. Jango… I think there might be blue paint on the bottom of your shoes.” Mr. Jango stopped and turned around. He stared down the hall at the blue footprints he had left and let out a laugh. “Oh well, I guess we both know what I’ll be doing for the rest of the day,” he said. He turned and started toward his office again.

All She's Missing Is a Puddle of Drool

2006-08-15T23:09:00.000-05:00

Jamaican in Da Country Band

2006-08-15T20:46:00.000-05:00

So, I've been spending my free time (which I have a lot of at the moment) playing my guitar. I know several songs now (that's a good feeling) but I've mostly just been practicing my chord changes. I want to be able to jump quickly and flawlessly between chords. I'm getting pretty decent with that.

The other night, I started trying to incorporate picking into the music I'm playing. Picking seems to be about as difficult as I thought it would be. Oh well, if I want to play guitar and be in a band, then it's something I need to get good at.

My friend, Bobby and I have been throwing the idea back and forth about starting a two...maybe three man band. We're looking at an eclectic country band. As I was telling Bobby yesterday, white guys (like me) in country bands are a dime a dozen. A black Jamaican like Bobby singing and playing country would be one heck of a novelty!

Bobby plays the bass guitar and, of course, I'm learning the electric guitar. Since I have a pretty good voice, I plan on taking the role of the rhythm guitar and the singer. I'm going to see if I can get Bobby to do some simple harmony with me. We'll see what happens, I 'spose.

Zeke, wish you lived here in Texas. We could use your guitar skills and your voice.

Pool Party...in Miniature!

2006-08-12T13:38:00.000-05:00

My sister Emily and her 2 boys and fetus came by this morning. The expressed purpose of her visit was to swap baby devices with us. We gave her our baby swing and she gave us her stationary walker. I love that swing but the doctor noted that Eliza appears to be getting a bit of a flat head and recommended we do everything possible to keep her off her back. Swings force the kid to their back, whereas stationary walkers keep them upright.

The other purpose of her visit was to bring her boys by to play with Gracie in our back yard. We have a little tiny play pool, a sandbox, and a small, safe yard for children to play in. So the kids went out and played while Erin, Emily, and I watched.

They jumped in and out of the pool and ran around the yard and played in the sand. They had a grand time.

At one point, our neighbor came by and offered to give us a dollhouse for the girls. I looked it over and it's a really nice one. I wish we had a house half that big (proportionally).

That was our morning. I'm ready to go back to bed.

The McDonalds' Playground of Terror!

2006-08-12T13:23:00.000-05:00

Last night we loaded the girls into the car and drove to Erin's Grandma's house. It was pool time! That magical time of the week when you swim around in water that other people have released bodily fluids into.

We arrived at Erin's Grandma's retirement village and her Grandma met us at the van. We unloaded the girls and Erin and her Grandma proceeded to walk the children to the community pool while I parked the car. I arrived at the pool to find the women all huddled around the entrance gate to the pull. I boldly strode forward, thinking the gate might be stuck and they need a big, strong man to unstick it. I reached for the gate only to see a sign on it that said, "Pool Closed." That may be a problem... Have you ever told a 2 year old a dozen times, "We're going to the pool" and then tried to tell her "Umm... We're not going to the pool anymore." That can be a very ugly scene.

I don't know how she did it, but Erin had already defused that stick of dynamite before I ever walked up. Gracie and I played with the pool toys for about 5 minutes and then we walked back to the car.

Erin and I considered our alternatives and decided to take Gracie to McDonalds' to play on their indoor playground. So, we hopped in the car and away we went. As we entered the play area, there was already a problem. It was full of CRAZY kids. These kids were so nuts they were climbing on the supports and struts. I hate it when parents don't watch or discipline their kids.

We decided to eat dinner and see if some of the kids dispersed.

We ate and as we ate, kids started leaving a handful at the time. When we finished dinner, there weren't too many kids left. So, we sent Gracie over to play and we watched closely.

When I call this thing a playground, I'm not talking about swings and seesaws. I am talking about the new school stuff with the tunnels that go up in the air over your heads and bubble windows they can see out of. Like they have at Discovery Zone.

Gracie stood around nervously outside the playground. Erin put Gracie in the entrance and we watched to see what she would do. She stood there unsure of what to do until a little girl ran past her, into the entrance, and started up the stairs. That was all it took, like a flash Gracie turned around and ran in the entrance and up the stairs.

We watched her climb around and around and go all the way to the top. They have a system of bubble tunnels at the top of the stairs that wind and twist above the grown-ups' heads. There are activities in there for the kids to do and windows where they can see out and adults can see in. Problem is that the kids have to be in front of a window for you to see them.

We looked for Gracie and eventually she wandered in front of the window. She looked upset and started bawling her head up when she saw us through the window. She started to look panicky, so I bravely went into the playground thing and started to wriggle my way up to the top.

I made it to the top and when I did, a little girl asked me if I was the crying girl's daddy. I said, "Yes." And she told me that Gracie had just gone down the slide. So, I wriggled myself back down to the bottom.

I made a quick look around the play area and didn't see her. I told Erin that she had gone down the slide by the time I got up there. I went to the slide and waited to see if she would ever come out of it. A minute later, she did.

Gracie looked pretty upset and pretty shocked. So, I took her over to Erin and we both calmed her down. She had a cuddle and a drink and maybe some food. Well, you know kids, all of a sudden she wanted to go back in.

Gracie ran back to another entrance (the one I had entered when I went to rescue her) and started climbing her way back up. She made it to the top and I was hoping if she freaked out again, she'd remember to use the slide.

I'd always heard that parents can recognize their own kid's screams and cries. It's true. I clearly heard Gracie losing her cool inside. I went to the spiral staircase and I could hear some of the kids coaxing her to come down that way. She was crying but it didn't sound like she was moving. From the crying, I could tell she was no more than six feet from me and out of sight behind a wall.

I started calling to her to come to me. Her crying lessened for a second and then picked up again but she did sound as if she was coming my way. Sure enough, seconds later she turned the corner and crying her eyes out. She saw me through a gap in the playground and I think she felt comforted, but she still had to come the rest of the way down. I continued to speak soothing words to her and a child helped lead her by the hand and soon she was out.

I took her back to our table and Erin and I calmed her down. Soon enough, she was ready to go again. Well, Erin and I'd had enough of this, so we told Gracie we were leaving which sent her into another noisy fit. The only thing that was lounder than Gracie was when I pushed the wrong door open and set off the alarm.

Man, I wish that Pool hadn't been closed.

85 degrees or 97 degrees...which is hotter?

2006-08-09T01:02:00.000-05:00

3:00 pm today... Ka-boom! That's the sound I heard in my kitchen as I was getting a drink. The TV was on and I had it tuned to Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil was about to rip into a guy for cheating on his wife and getting an STD from one of his mistresses when the TV and all of the lights in the house went dark. Every bit of power was gone from the house.

About two months ago, the Air Conditioner blew up 4 times in a row. Because of that, I worry a lot when I hear strange explosions coming from outside.

So, I ran out the door and investigated my Air Conditioner. It didn't look blown up. Then I thought it might be our fuses so I ran in the garage and grabbed my flashlight to investigate the fuse panel. No dice. Hmm... Weird. I decided to see if my neighbors had power.

I ran out the front door and nobody was out on my street, so I went through my side yard to the back of my house. I went into my alley and I could hear neighbors on the next street out in the street talking about their power being out. Although I was happy that everybody's power was out and not just mine, I was also worried. What caused the explosion?

I called my wife (she and the kids were at her mother's house) and explained the situation to her. As I was explaining, a big firetruck came driving down the street. We don't live on a major road. You could almost say our street is a dead end. So, if a police car, ambulance, or firetruck shows up on our street, we know our street is its destination.

It stopped in front of our neighbor's house and he ran out to speak to the fire fighter that climbed out of the truck. The fire fighter turned and gave instructions to the truck and then he and my neighbor crossed through his side yard to get to his alley. The firetruck drove away. I figured that it was pulling away so it could drive up the alley that the fire fighter and my neighbor went in. Sure enough, two minutes later I saw the firetruck cruising up that alley.

When my neighbor came out of his house to speak to the firefighter, his next neighbor came out to investigate. After firefighter, original neighbor, and firetruck were gone, I yelled out to the neighbor who had just appeared to ask her if she knew what was going on. She said that the electrical box in the alley appears to have blown up. It released a lot of smoke when it did.

The reason I share this story with you is to point out the silliness of human nature. I left the house a little later to meet up with the wife and kids at my in-laws' house for dinner. As I was driving down our street, I noticed that many of the neighbors were sitting on their front porches. Or hanging out in their yards. Presumably to escape the heat inside their house.

That's what I don't understand. Even if the house is 85 degrees, it's still cooler and more comfortable with a fan than being outside in the Texas heat where it's 97 degrees. Is it just human nature to flee from a "bad" situation? I could understand leaving and going to the grocery store...but to your front porch? That's crazy! That's like jumping from the frying pan and into the fire!

The Nerve of Some People

2006-08-05T21:12:00.000-05:00

The last post is a couple of pictures. One is of Eliza and I and the other is of Gracie and my sisters' little boys. That post was actually posted earlier. I had to delete it because some idiot decided that it was a great place to leave a comment with no other purpose than to advertise a cell phone selling website.

Shame on you bluetoothbargains.com. Either you or someone you hired is perpetrating this immoral and unethical behavior. Either way...you're just as GUILTY!!!

Kid Pics

2006-08-05T19:56:00.000-05:00

Eliza and her Daddy

Gracie and her cousins Nicholas and Matthew

Hey Daddy!

2006-08-04T15:49:00.000-05:00

I was driving to the doctors' office to have a follow-up visit on my broken toe (by the way he says it's healing well) when I started thinking about the difference between boys and girls specifically sons and daughters. As you've seen in my blog, I have two beautiful daughters. My girls are both under the age of 3 and absolutely beautiful.

You know, when children are little, they call their father "Daddy". It sure doesn't take too long until boys decide that it's unmanly to refer to their father as "Daddy." I mean, I love my Dad, but I haven't called him "Daddy" in many, many years. I'm just too manly to do that.

Girls on the other hand don't seem to suffer from the same social stigma. Women appear to be able to continue calling their father that name a lot longer than men. And often, they'll refer to them by that name their whole life. I noticed at my Grandfather's funeral that my mom and her sister kept referring to my Granddude by "Daddy". I thought it was very sweet.

I've noticed that my sister doesn't call my Dad, "Daddy". I don't think my wife calls her father that either. I wonder why some women continue with it and some stop?

My older daughter is the only one who can speak and she calls me "Daddy". I hope that my girls call me "Daddy" for a long time. It's a name I enjoy being called.

Here's to you, oh responsible Candy Maker!

2006-08-02T16:00:00.000-05:00

I bought Erin some Reese's Peanut Buttercups today. Erin and I were really impressed with the inside wrapper. I scanned it so you can see it.

Look at the highlighted part of the image. That is such an excellent point. Snickers' manufacturer tries to pass their product off as a meal replacement. Candy bars are not meal replacements. Their desserts.

Thanks Reeses!

The Creeper!

2006-08-02T15:57:00.000-05:00

Erin and the kids and I saw the most interesting of beasts yesterday.

The Creeper!

We were in the van in the left turn lane behind another vehicle. The light was red. The car in front of us started inching forward. Inching... Inching... Inching... Finally, the light changed and we all made the turn.

Why do people do this? You're not getting anywhere quicker. Why don't you sit back and listen to the radio or ponder the mysteries of life? I just don't get it.

The Creeper that Erin and I saw was an even rarer variety. It's called the "Late Start Creeper". He was creeping, creeping, creeping and then the light changed and he waited about 5 seconds before pulling away.

Very unusual.

Will Harry Go the Way of the Dodo?

2006-08-01T18:29:00.000-05:00

Harry! I've got my fingers crossed for you!

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060801/people_nm/rowling_dc

Bedtime Stories

2006-07-30T20:34:00.000-05:00

Erin and I put the girls to bed tonight. Erin put Eliza (our 3 month old) to bed and I put Gracie (our 2 1/2 year old) to bed. I couldn't help but notice how different our bedtime stories were.

I read Gracie a story about a woman who receives a Boa Constrictor as a pet. She basically treats it like it is a child. She knits clothing for it and gives it a bed to sleep in. One night a burglar breaks in and "Crictor" saves his owner from the burglar.

Eliza's bedtime story consisted of "Look at the kitty." "Oh, look there's a puppy."

Attack of the Cyborgs

2006-07-30T12:25:00.000-05:00

I am convinced that we are becoming a nation of cyborgs. I'm not saying that we have a lot of 6 Million Dollar men out there. I'm referring to those idiots who walk around with a Bluetooth cell phone headset hanging from their ear when they are not on a call.

Take it off!

I imagine these people are under the misconception that we think they look cool. It's actually quite the opposite. They look like bionic morons. Why can't you tell that yourself? Why must I be the one to inform you of this?

And So Life Moseys On...

2006-07-30T00:07:00.000-05:00

After hearing that my Granddude had passed away, I climbed into my car and drove back home to Dallas. I spent the night with the wife and kids. The next day I loaded them all in the van, drove down to Houston, and went to my Granddude's Viewing.

I had planned on avoiding any sight of my grandfather's body. I carefully kept myself in a separate room from his body. It's not that I was afraid that his body would be scary. I was just afraid that I would always remember him the way he looked when he died. I want to remember him the way he looked when he was healthy.

At one point, I looked in the chapel area trying to find my wife or daughter. I saw Granddude's nose and chin. Well, I figured if I've seen this much I might as well see the rest.

He didn't look that bad.

The Funeral Home was very nice. They provided a playroom for the children. There were also free cookies and soft drinks. I must've had myself about 15 Dr Peppers.

We went back to my Grandmother's house and spent the night there. Many members of my extended family stopped by and stayed late.

Erin and the girls and I spent the night in the living room with Emily and her husband and their two boys. It wouldn't have been too bad but for Emily's younger son waking up and screaming every two hours. Oh well.

The next morning was the funeral. The funeral was nice and simple. We each got a turn to share our favorite memories and thoughts of Granddude. Gracie kicked me in my broken toe while the entire family was standing up singing. Aah, good times...

After the funeral, I assembled the family and we all met at The Golden Corral for lunch. For many years, The Golden Corral was my Granddude's favorite restaurant and he would insist that we eat there any time we went out to eat. We left there and went straight to the VA National Cemetery for the burial.

Granddude was an Air Force veteran) so the local chapter of the VFW were present. They gave my Grandfather a 21 gun salute. My Grandmother was given the spent bullets and the flag from my Granddude's casket.

My Grandmother asked me to Dedicate my Grandfather's grave. I can never tell her "No". I was really nervous about it but I did it.

Wrapping it up... We spent that night at Erin's brother's house. The next day we finished our drive home to Dallas

Granddude Photos

2006-07-24T19:46:00.000-05:00

Portrait - Fall 2000
Toupees - Christmas 1996
Gracie's Birth - February 2004

Gracie's 2nd Birthday - February 2006
Rachel's Wedding - April 2006

It's Over

2006-07-24T10:52:00.000-05:00

There's an empty spot in the bedroom where my Granddad was laying. Granddude is gone. Body and spirit.

I had a dream last night that I approached Granddude's hospital bed and he started talking to me. His weight was back, his color was back, and so was his energy. I don't remember any of what was said but I don't think what he said was important. I think the message was that he is not suffering anymore. He's moved on to somewhere better.

I've shed no tears this morning. I shed the last of what I had last night. The Granddude I knew and loved left us before I ever arrived here. I realized that the other night. I've just been waiting for his body to get the message.

Granddude's Mom

2006-07-23T21:35:00.000-05:00

I found this photo of Granddude's mom. Pretty girl. I can see the resemblance between she and my Granddude.

Reasons for Everything

2006-07-23T18:46:00.000-05:00

Granddude continues to hang on. We spent a long time by his bedside with him, waiting for the end. His body is still with us. I am coming to believe that his soul is already gone. His poor body just hasn't quite run out of steam yet.

Last night I was thankful for every moment he was still alive. Today my feelings have changed. I feel strongly that he needs to move on. He's gone too far to come back. It's time to finish the journey.

My sister, Emily, and her husband and their 2 boys hit the road earlier. She and her husband have to work tomorrow. Not everybody is so fortunate as to have been blest with all of the time off from work I am receiving right now.

The Lord works in mysterious ways and he rewards those who follow him. Maybe recent events occurred to give me this time to say goodbye to my Granddude.

Does the Passing of his Fever Indicate his Passing is Imminent?

2006-07-23T17:34:00.000-05:00

This morning I was awoken by Mom asking for assistance in rolling my Granddad over so that she could better tend to him. My two sisters and I helped with this. It wasn't nearly as hard as I expected. He's so skinny and light.

Granddad's temperature has been running higher than normal today. About 5 minutes ago, I received word from 4 different mouths that his fever has broken and the end may be very near. Everybody has moved into his room to be there when it happens.

I have stayed here just long enough to write this.

Stay A Little Longer

2006-07-22T23:07:00.000-05:00

Take your time Granddad. I appreciate every minute I have with you.

Hanging On

2006-07-22T21:53:00.000-05:00

Granddude is still hanging on. Please don't think that I am holding out hope that he will turn it around and recover from this. He cannot. He's gone too far.

My cousin, Jake, requested that we have a family prayer around his bedside. We did so and asked the Lord's blessings on Granddude.

So, the vigil goes on.

Even the Heavens Weep for Granddude's Suffering

2006-07-22T18:28:00.000-05:00

Earlier today, I was awoken excitedly by my mom and Aunt. Granddude was showing a little activity. My nephew was hoisted up to give him a kiss, and Granddude responded by changing the expression on his face a little.

My Granddude hasn't done it very much today but he occasionally responds to our voices with a weak change to the expression on his face or bending his fingers slightly. Very minor things but when 99.9% of the time he lays there with his eyes closed and mouth open, you take what you can get.

Thirty minutes ago, it started to rain and storm here. I feel strongly that we don't have much time left with Granddude.

I spent a little time with Granddude. As alone as I can get with people hustling and bustling around this house. I held his hand for a long time. I told him how much I love him. I laid my head on his arm. I silently wept.

Rachel came in and saw me. She tried to console me by patting my back and neck and hugging me. She's a sweet sister. This whole day has been about consoling whoever needs it at the time.

After I was ready to leave his bedside, I walked into the hall outside of his door. I was so overwhelmed by my feelings for this man, that I went into the bathroom and bawled for several minutes. My nephews and my cousins' kids came pounding on the door, but I couldn't even respond to them.

Ten years ago, I was present when my Dad's mom passed away. My mom had gone up several weeks before to help make my Grandmother's last few weeks more pleasant. When mom gave the signal that it was time, Dad loaded us kids in the car and we drove up to Kansas. We arrived in the middle of the night and found my Dad's brother, sister, and my Mom waiting around my Grandmother's bedside.

Grandmother was in a coma, just like Granddad. Dad told her that he loved her and that he was there. My Mom told my Dad that he should tell her that it is all right. She can go now. He did. A couple minutes passed and the adults started speaking to each other. Having a conversation.

I couldn't take my eyes off of my Grandmother,

Grandmother took a breath (like any other breath she'd taken that night, just bigger). The next moment (right before my eyes) she ceased to resemble my Grandmother. I mean one moment I'm looking at my Grandmother and the next I'm looking at the body of some woman lying where Grandmother was lying.

I knew what had happened and turned to the adults and said, "I think she's gone." They all looked over at my Grandmother. My Mom examined her and declared that she had passed.

I am deathly afraid of looking at my Granddude and not seeing my Granddude.

Please Lord, give me the strength to see this experience through to the end.

An Evening Full of Tears

2006-07-22T01:41:00.000-05:00

Here I am at my Grandparents' house. I left our house at about 5:00 pm, I think, and made the trip down to Houston. I arrived here at nearly 10:00 pm. My mom is here and her sister (my aunt Nona), my cousin Jake (Aunt Nona's oldest son) is also here. And of course my Granddad is here.

As soon as I could steel up my nerve, I went into my Granddad's room to see him. I knew what I would see. Ten years ago, I watched my Dad's mom die. I saw the change in her. I saw how emaciated she had become in so short of time. Now it's happened to my Granddude.

My Granddad is so skinny. He's become just skin and bones. He is in a coma now. I just went over to him and rested my head upon his for a moment. Then I left the room and cried like a baby in the bathroom for several minutes.

I realized an important truth when I had my head upon his. I'm losing my best friend and I absolutely cannot stand it.

I wish I'd never come. I want to remember him the way he was. Now I fear that everytime I think of him as he was, an image of how he looked before he died will steal into my thoughts. I don't want to store this as a memory but there's no way to stop it from becoming one.

This evening has been rough enough for me but a little while ago I realized that my Granddad doesn't have an IV. I asked my Grandmother how he is getting food and nourishment. She says he's not. He's dying she said. At this point, his body wouldn't be able to do anything with it anyways.

Intellectually, I understand this. But emotionally, every fiber of my being is screaming at me that he's not only fading away, but he's also starving to death. I can now almost understand and support the position of those proponents of Terry Schiavo. Almost. I want so bad to rush in there and find some way to give him nourishment, but I know it's better to let nature take its course.

My heart's tearing in two.

The Vista View Vigilante - Chapter 2

2006-07-21T13:18:00.000-05:00

Bearclaw is 16 and still in junior high! He is so stupid that he has been in the 8th grade for 3 years now. Bearclaw is the most dangerous kid in school. There are rumors that Coach Johnson, the old boys’ gym teacher, didn’t retire because he wanted to.

They say that one day Bearclaw was breaking a kid’s arm in gym class when Coach Johnson saw him. Coach Johnson told him that he wanted to see him in his office. Vance heard what happened in Coach’s office from a kid he knows who heard it from his friend that was looking in the little window into Coach Johnson’s office. Coach Johnson told Bearclaw he was going to give him 2 hours of detention. Bearclaw got furious and grabbed Coach Johnson by the throat and lifted him 3 feet in the air and just held him there with one hand. Bearclaw roared at him, “I ain’t doin’ no detention and you can't make me!” Then Bearclaw lifted Coach high up above his head and started spinning him around like he was a propeller.

Coach Johnson went round and round for several minutes. Then he started vomiting everywhere in big wide circles. It looked like he was the planet Saturn and his vomit was the rings. Bearclaw did one last spin and threw the coach into his chair. “Like I said, I ain’t doin’ no detention! And if I see you here tomorrow, you’ll be lucky if you can walk out of this school!” They say that Coach Johnson left school that day bawling like a baby. He just told Principal Wucksworthy he was retiring early and walked out the front door of the school never to be seen or heard from again. They say he is living in a private mental hospital down in Florida somewhere.

No teacher has tried to discipline Bearclaw Thrash since. That kid hates everybody. And for some reason, he hates me the most. Actually, I know why he hates me so much, but it was an accident. I swear it was.

One day I was at my locker getting my books for my next class. They give you so many books at Vista View Junior High that you have to push really hard to get them all into your locker. And then you have to pull really hard to get them out again. Well, my next class was History so I was busily working on freeing my History book from my locker. I pulled and pulled and it just wouldn’t come out. After several minutes of pulling, I realized that if I didn’t get my book out in the next 30 seconds I would be late for class. I got desperate. I put one foot on my locker and got a firm grip on my history book with both hands. I yanked on that book with all my strength.

At first, it looked like it wasn’t going to move. But then, I must have won the tug of war because it came shooting out of my locker like a rocket. That was a good thing except for the fact that it slipped out of my hands and flew over my shoulder. Smack! Crash! Boom! I heard from behind me.

I slowly turned around and saw the school janitor climbing to his feet and a kid lying facedown in a huge pile of stinky garbage. I saw the kid starting to get up so I ran over to apologize and try to help him up. He turned and looked at me. Did I say looked? He glared at me. It was Bearclaw Thrash and he was covered in garbage from head to toe. He must have landed face first in a puddle of paint, because his face was colored light blue. I thought to myself, “Please don’t be too mad. Please don’t kill me.” Then I heard a kid shout, “Look Bearclaw’s changed his name to Stinky Smurf!” The crowd of kids who had gathered around to watch started roaring with laughter. I looked at Bearclaw and knew that he was mad and that he was going to kill me.

Bearclaw was so angry that his face must have gone beet red. How do I know his face was beet red when it was covered in light blue paint? Because red and blue make purple, and that is what color the paint on his face had changed to. Bearclaw didn’t say a word. He just grabbed me by the top of my head and held me suspended above the ground. He shouted to the kids gathered around watching us, “Who thinks I look like Stinky Smurf now?” Instantly the laughter stopped. I guess everybody must have changed their minds about his resemblance to a Smurf, because nobody seemed to think so now.

Having finished with the crowd, Bearclaw turned his attention back to me. “We’re gonna be seein’ a lot of each other this year.” he said to me. Then he took his free hand and started emptying out my locker onto the floor. He took out my Biology book and threw it on the ground. Thunk! Next he pulled out my Math book and threw it across the hall. Crash! Then he just grabbed the rest of my books in one big handful and threw them all down the hall. Crash! Boom! Crash! Crash! Still facing my locker, he backed up about 4 feet from it. He eyed it like a Major League Baseball pitcher and the next thing I knew I was flying through the air face-first into my open locker. Then Bearclaw slammed my locker door shut with me inside.

I guess I should have been upset, but all I could think was how happy I was that Bearclaw didn’t know my locker combination. Without my locker combo, there was nothing more that he could do to me today. “Enjoy your locker, punk!” Bearclaw yelled at me through the vents in my locker door. “ I’ll see you tomorrow.”

My life with the Granddude...

2006-07-20T12:30:00.000-05:00

I saw my Grandfather and my Grandmother one month ago when we went out to Kelly’s (a Denny’s type restaurant) for breakfast. Knowing that my grandfather is getting pretty old and due to the fact that (as of a couple months ago) he no longer lives around the corner from me, I decided to treat every visit as if there may not be another. So before we left his house last month, I tried to reconcile my feelings to the fact that I may never see him living again. It hurt to do, but I felt like I was able to do so.

I got a disturbing call from my Mom last night. She called to tell me that my Grandfather is dying and probably won’t last until the weekend. I knew that he’s been feeling ill and that he is refusing dialysis but this shocked me. I’d talked to him a few days before and although he wasn’t feeling great, he tried his best to carry on a conversation with me. I immediately thought about racing to his bedside, but I can’t. I have a job with responsibilities and deadlines, and a family that desperately needs money to put food on the table and keep the lights on. So, I’ll be driving down on Friday night.

I absolutely can’t stand the thought of my Grandfather passing away. I’m nearly 30 years old and he and my Grandmother have lived down the street from my family for over half of my life. And when we didn’t live close, we would spend a week or two in the summer with them.

My Grandparents had a farm outside Kansas in the late 70’s – early 80’s. We used to visit there and Granddad used to let me drive the tractor (actually I sat in his lap while he drove). And he used to tell us stories about the black panthers that lived on his property. We never saw a single one but Granddad swore they were out there somewhere.

I remember I had to have minor surgery when we lived in Kansas. My parents told me if I was good, I could go with Granddad out to his farm in his truck. I was good, I guess, because I have a memory of Granddad and I driving down the road in his truck. I can remember begging him to tell the ketchup story. The ketchup story is just a story that Granddad’s dad told him and his father told him. I’m not sure how far back the story goes. It’s actually a pretty dumb story but kids love it! I know I sure did! I tell it to my kids today.

Later, due to my Dad’s joining the military and also because he has gypsy blood in his veins, we started moving a lot. We moved all the time! The only consistency in my life when I was younger was my parents and the annual trips to my Grandparent’s house every summer. At first, we would spend a week or two with my Grandparents at their house in Kansas (they’d moved from the farm to a suburb of Kansas City at this point).

Every summer at Grandmother and Granddad’s house was magical. Granddad would let us build stuff with wood and hammers and nails in his garage. Or we’d play outside. Or pick strawberries from the strawberry patch. Or we’d play with the kids next door. Or we’d watch musicals. Grandmother and Granddad were the first people I ever knew who had a VCR. Not just one…but two! VHS and Beta! Granddad had a satellite dish and would tape tons of stuff for us to watch if we got bored.

We would also spend a lot of time in Granddad’s pool where he would chase us around…because Granddad was the giant squid! And he’d make these goofy funny faces as he was chasing us. We’d laugh and scream and have a ball.

During one of these visits to my Grandparents’ house in Kansas, I noticed that Granddad wears a lot of rings. He explained the significance of each ring to me. When he got to one of his rings, he told me it was his Mason’s ring. He said that it means that he is a member of the Masonic Lodge. He told me that he is planning on giving it someday to the Grandson that is most like him.

My Grandparents got a timeshare outside Branson, Missouri and we started going there every year with them.

My parents moved us to Tucson, Arizona in 1989 and I thought we’d be settling down there. That is until we got a call from my Grandmother saying that Granddad had a stroke and was in bad shape. My mom really wanted us to move to Houston (which is where my Grandparents moved after my aunt was separated from her first husband). So, my Dad was able to find a job in Houston and we moved into a house a few blocks down from my Grandparents’ house. What a blessing!

Most of us kids were heading into our teenage years at this time. We lived in that area for about 3 ½ to 4 years. A record for us. During that time I went from the seventh grade to finishing my junior year of high school. Living so close to my Grandparents was my reality. It was annoying sometimes, but I can look back at it now and realize how lucky I was.

When I was a junior in high school, my friend and I invited dates to homecoming and started looking for a place to take them. We thought about it and decided to see if we could just turn my Grandparent’s house into a restaurant and take our dates there. You have to understand that my Grandfather had nearly completely recovered from the stroke and both of my Grandparents were very active.

I asked my Grandparents and they were thrilled to be a part of it. By the time all of the plans were made, our group had grown from 2 couples to 5 couples. I believe it was 5 couples. My Grandparents were still fine with it.

So, we decorated the house really nice and set up tables and I hung a sign on the front door that said, “Le Café du Manger”. I had taken a couple years of French in school and thought it would be funny to call it “The Restaurant of Eating”.

The evening arrived and we all picked up our dates and headed over to the “restaurant”. We kept telling our dates that we would be eating at a very fine French restaurant. I guess when we parked at my Grandparent’s house, the ladies started to think we weren’t going somewhere where we would be waited on hand and foot. Boy, were they wrong!

My Granddad met us at the door wearing a nice suit and said, “Welcome to Le Café du Manger!” He opened the double doors to let us walk into the foyer. The foyer of their house had a spectacular black and white tiled floor that looked like it belonged in a ballroom. He then directed us into the living room where the tables had been set up. He was acting just like a host, a waiter, and a Maître d' all rolled into one. He got us seated and then left the room. He started bringing the food in, using that obsequious manner you would expect from a good waiter. This man, a metallurgical engineer, a well-known scientist, was playing the role of a waiter and playing it well!!!

At one point during the dinner, one of my friends or their dates commented that they needed some more water. I looked around and my Granddad was out of the room and in the kitchen. I thought I’d have a little fun so I told them to let me handle it. It was quiet in the living room besides the sound of us eating when I raised my hand above my head, snapped my fingers, and said, “Oh, boy.” I realized after typing this that it looks like what a person would say in surprise…like “Holy cow!” That’s not how I said it. I said it like a rich person would call out to a subordinate.

So, I raised my hand in the air, snapped my fingers, and said “Oh, boy.” My Granddad immediately came running and bowing his way into the room and said, “Oh, yes sir.” I told him we needed more water. He bowed his way out of the room saying, “Yes sir. Right away sir.” My friends thought he was so cool. They couldn’t be more right.

Granddad and I have always been on the same wavelength. We’ve always had a special bond. The “Oh, boy” thing was unscripted. We didn’t plan it in advance. I just knew that Granddad would know what I wanted from him when I did it and I knew that he’d play along.

A little later, my Granddad told me that the name “Granddad” was starting to make him feel old. I told Granddad that he is young and hip. And I told him that I would call him “Granddude” from now on. He roared with laughter. He absolutely loved the name! From that day on, I called him Granddude.

A year or so later, my Dad lost his job. He started looking for work in Houston but could find no leads in his field. So, he started extending his search and finally found a job in Dallas. I had just finished my junior year of high school and I tried to find some way to keep from moving but in the end my stuff was thrown in the truck, too. We rented a house in Plano for a year (which is where we were when I graduated from high school) and then my parents bought a house in Rowlett right after I graduated. I left on my mission from Rowlett, Texas.

I, of course, corresponded with my parents while on my mission, but I also corresponded with my Grandparents almost just as much. And every letter from my Grandparents was signed “Love, Grandmother and Granddude”.

I was afraid they wouldn’t be around when I got home. But they were.

After we moved to the Dallas area, my Grandparents started to miss us. So, right after I left on my mission, they sold their house in Houston and moved a few blocks down from my parents in Rowlett.

Around Christmas that first year in Australia, I found some toupees. So, I sent them back to the states as Christmas gifts for my Dad and for Granddad. I have some great pictures of them wearing them.

When I got back from my mission, I spent a lot of time with all of my family. Grandparents included. My Grandparents have never been extended family in my heart. They’ve always been as much a part of the family as any of us.

Somewhere along the way, Granddad and I started doing the kookiest thing whenever we got together. We would grab each other around the chest in a big bear hug and start growling really loud like a couple of animals. Grandmother would always yell for my Granddad not to overdo it, but we never paid her any mind.

Shortly later, I met a beautiful woman at church. A year later I ended up moving down to Huntsville, Texas to be closer to her before we got married. I started attending Sam Houston State University and three months later my wife and I were married. Every few months my Grandparents would come down to their timeshare in nearby Conroe, Texas and we would always head over and spend time with them.

While my wife and I were in college, my mouth started hurting really bad. So, I went to the dentist and he said that one of my wisdom teeth was coming in and would have to come out. I was scared about getting one of my wisdom teeth removed, so I asked my mom to come down to provide some moral (or is that molar) support.

My Grandparents came, too.

I was getting close to graduating from college and I got a job in College Station, Texas. My whole family and Erin’s parents came and helped us pack up and move our stuff to college station. My Grandparents were there.

Graduation day arrived. My Grandparents were there.

Erin gave birth to our first daughter. My Grandparents were there when she was blessed. My Grandfather participated.

A little later, Erin and I moved in with her parents in Rockwall and then moved into our own house in Rowlett. Erin and I bought a house around the corner from my Grandparents’ house and about a minute from my Dad’s house. My Grandparents were thrilled. They would stop by our place and we would stop by theirs.

A little later, my Mom told me that there was something important my Grandfather wanted to speak with me about. My Granddad and I found some quiet time at my nephew’s birthday party. He told me that he wanted me to have his Mason’s ring. I was more than pleased. I hadn’t stopped thinking about his ring since the day he first explained the significance of each of his rings to me. I had always hoped he would give it to me. I wasn’t coveting his ring because of its intrinsic value. I wanted it because it would mean that he is proud of me and that I mean as much to him as he means to me.

I told him I was honored. Granddad told me that he just couldn’t give it to me. He said that I would have to be a mason first. I told him I was hesitant about it but if it meant that much to him, I would do it. He said that he would contact the local chapter of the Masonic Lodge and try to get the ball rolling.

Summer of 2005, I was working in Killeen, Texas at Fort Hood. Since Killeen, was only 2 ½ hours from home, I was home every weekend. That summer was pretty stressful.

My Grandparents have always prided themselves on being able to take care of themselves. I’m fine with that, except they would still mow their lawn if we didn’t get over there in a timely fashion to mow it for them. So, I started mowing it every week for them. Being that I was only in town for the weekend, mowing their lawn, my lawn, and doing work around our house was all I was having time for. So, I arranged a schedule with my brothers and my brother-in-law so we could all take turns.

My second daughter was born. My Grandparents were there. My Grandfather assisted again.

After my parents got divorced, my mom decided to move back to the Houston area. Shortly later, my Grandparents decided to move back to the Houston area, too. This was just two months ago. So, they bought a house in Pearland and moved.

The move was very difficult on my Granddad. When I heard that he was tired and not feeling too well, I wasn’t surprised. Which brings this long narrative full circle, back to where it started…with my Mom calling me to tell me that my Granddad is dying.

Like I said earlier, I’m not ready for him to die. I love him very much. He has always been very special to me. I miss him terribly now just thinking about him being gone and I think I’ll miss him much more when he actually is gone.

We Be Jammin'

2006-07-17T14:36:00.000-05:00

Last night was such a thrilling night! My friend, Bobby, came to my house last night with his bass guitar and his amplifier. I pulled out my electric guitar and we had ourselves a fun jam session. We played Eagles music and Jimmy Buffett music and a Tim Mcgraw song.

I've always wanted to play an instrument. When I was starting the 6th grade, the kids were allowed to choose whether they were going to play an instrument in the band or sing in the choir. I really wanted to play the saxophone and I told my parents that I wanted to play it. The problem is, my stupid good singing voice. Since I was young, I've always had a really good singing voice. I know, that sounds like a good thing but it has limited my options in life. Or at least it did that time.

So, I never really had a choice and I was signed up for the Choir. I tried to enjoy myself and make the best of it, but singing in a choir has never been my dream or passion. After that first year in choir, I never signed up for it again and I did nothing musically for the next several years.

The pull of music hadn't completely left me though. Whenever I saw a music video with somebody playing the guitar in it, I used to picture myself in his shoes. And I would often play the air guitar in the bathroom.

When I started my Senior year in high school, I got a job as a waiter at a Chinese restaurant. I saved up my money and purchased an acoustic guitar. It was (to me) a beautiful guitar. It was made by a company called "Arbor". I practiced and messed with it but I just didn't get anywhere with it. My brother Josh started showing some interest in it, so I let him use it. Josh had it for several weeks and when I went by Josh's room one day, I heard him playing it. Josh seemed to be making better progress with it than I, so I let him have it.

I left on my mission after I graduated from high school. While I was on my mission, I heard a couple of my fellow missionaries play the guitar. Elder Bardwell played John Denver "Country Roads" and Elder Biagi played lots of stuff. These two knuckleheads re-kindled my desire to play.

Also during stewardships, Sister Stone programmed the electronic keyboard with the three hymns we would be singing that day. When our mission president and his wife came to our meeting, Elder Bardwell announced the program including the fact that I would be playing the hymns that day. President Belliston didn't seem to notice but Sister Belliston gave me a sharp glance.

When I returned from my mission, I thought I'd give it another shot. I asked Josh where the guitar was and he said that he'd given it to our brother-in-law, Pablo. I checked with Pablo and he told me he had given it away. That was the end of the trail for me.

In 2002, I tried to teach myself how to play on my wife's guitar and I didn't get far at all. I didn't understand what I was supposed to be doing and I got sidetracked. So, I stopped.

About a week and a half ago, I picked up one of the guitars again and started messing with it. Not really with any ambition to teach myself to play but as a way to waste some time. Well, I've been playing with it ever since. My skill with it is getting better much quicker! And I can make it through songs now! Yay!

The point is, the music in my soul has been screaming to get out!

Frivolous Lawsuits!

2006-07-08T20:05:00.000-05:00

I saw this news report when I got on the computer today. Please tell me this guy loses his lawsuit...

http://www.oregonlive.com/news/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/news/1152325527236920.xml&coll=7

Wanna talk about "defamation and permanent injury" and "emotional pain and suffering?" When Erin and I were dating, we were both about 21 and 22. Because of my progressively increasing Chrome Dome, I have looked like I was 30 since I was 19. Due to her wonderful genes and jeans, Erin looked like she was 16 when she was 21. Erin and I would get the most evil looks from people when we would go out.

Allen Heckard...you have inspired me. I have decided to sue everybody who ever gave Erin and I a dirty look when we were dating and after we got married.

I am also suing my wife for asking her parents (when I picked her up for our first date) and I quote, "Who's that old man in our garage?"

Criss Angel: Mindfraud

2006-07-06T08:33:00.000-05:00

A & E is one of my favorite cable stations. In my estimation, any station that plays "Dog: The Bounty Hunter" has to be great! Sadly, A & E lowered my opinion of their station when they started showing this series called "Criss Angel: Mindfreak". Criss Angel is a performer who likes to pretend like he's a magician/escape artist. You may be thinking, "Why didn't you just say he's a magician?" I refuse to call him a magician because the guy's an absolute hack.

Notice that I didn't call Criss Angel a fake. All magicians are "fakes" since all magic is done through sleight of hand, diversion tactics, and trickery. Criss Angel is not just a fake but he's also a hack. Criss Angel's magic is developed solely for we, the television audience at home. Through video editing and the fact that every single "innocent bystander" is a plant, he pretends as if he is doing magic. Criss Angel's tricks are so unbelievable that they unravel the second any logic is applied to them.

Let's take a moment and examine the trick that convinced me of what a hack Criss Angel is. Criss Angel and his crew are taking a stroll through the industrial section of a town when he decides to do a trick. He starts grabbing "innocent bystanders" and having them walk over to watch him perform this trick. All of the innocent bystanders look like they belong in a park with a frisbee and not in an industrial area. First giveaway, people who shouldn't be there yet are.

Criss Angel climbs up on a dumpster and digs in it and finds a perfect big piece of butcher paper. The paper is clean, unwrinkled, and in pristine condition after just coming out of a dumpster. Second giveaway, props being there that shouldn't be there.

Criss Angel grabs a couple of the "innocent bystanders" and has them hold up the paper in front of a glass window at an office. Although the window opens, it is closed at this point. Criss Angel enters the office and tells the guys inside that he will be performing a trick in their office and they just go, "Uh, okay". He then tells them that it's their job to verify that he doesn't open the window.

Criss Angel crouches down behind the window and the paper. At this point, we the audience at home can no longer see him. If you were holding the paper, what would you do? I would look behind the paper. What do the girls do who are holding the paper blocking our view? Everything but look behind the paper. Third giveaway, people behaving differently than anybody else would if put in that position.

We don't see Criss Angel until all of a sudden we see his finger start poking and ripping through the paper. He rips just enough of the paper that he can squeeze himself through the hole. He gets out and stands there all trumphant and a moment later the paper is removed and we can all see that the window is still closed and intact. They interview one of the guys in the office and although he doesn't tell us what he saw, he does say it was amazing and he doesn't know how he did it.

Oh my gosh! How did he do it?!?! I figured it out pretty easily. How? Common sense.

Question 1: Can a person pass through solid glass without breaking it?
Answer: No.
Which means: The glass was not there when he went through the window or the window was opened.

Question 2: Could the window be opened without the boys in the office noticing it was being opened?
Answer: No.
Which means: The boys in the office saw Criss Angel open the window.

Question 3: Would the boys in the office say they didn't know how Criss Angel did it if they saw him do it?
Answer: No.
Which means: They were in on it.

When you add these to the unusual behavior of the women holding the paper, you can't help but be led to the unmistakeable conclusion that every single person witnessing this trick in person is a plant by Criss Angel. Give me some credit, I didn't even add the other two points (the unbelievable condition of the butcher paper found in the dumpster and the unusual kinds of people visiting the industrial district) to the equation and I was able to disprove Criss Angel.

Please don't think that I believe that a magician should never use a plant in the audience. That's not what I'm saying at all. A plant or two is a perfectly legitimate magician's tool. I just have a problem with every single "innocent bystander" (whose job it is to be my eyes since I'm not there) being a plant of the magician. That's ridiculous.

I saw one of his acts yesterday where he had a woman lay on a bench in a city park and had one woman pull her wrists while another pulled her ankles. Her body split right down the middle and her upper torso pulled itself away by hand. This trick was another easy one to figure out. Especially if you majored in broadcasting in college. There were a lot of cuts in the video editing. The producers, I'm sure, were trying to make us believe they were trying to get us the best viewing angle. In actuality, the purpose behind the cuts was to remove sections where the camera had moved to a position that would expose the trick.

Criss Angel...You're a hack and a fraud!

If you want to see a good television magician, watch David Blaine: Street Magic. David does mostly card tricks and levitation but he does them on the fly and with minimal video editing. His levitation trick blows me away.

The Day the Duck Died

2006-07-06T08:29:00.000-05:00

Erin and I took the kids over to some friends' house the other night. As we entered their neighborhood and were driving down their street, a squirrel raced out into the street and in front of our van. I swerved and slammed on the brakes and tried to avoid him. But in the end I couldn't. In the rear view mirror I could see him flattened in the street with his tail twitching like a white surrender flag.

I absolutely hate killing animals and I hate it when they kill themselves on my car. I think some people enjoy aiming for squirrels and running them over. Not me. In fact, when I was in high school a squirrel ran out in front of my friend's car. Needless to say, the squirrel got flattened. We stopped the car to see if there was anything we could do for it. As we approached it, an old couple ran out of their house and told us to "leave the squirrel alone" and "stop torturing it". I couldn't believe it, the last thing on our minds was squirrel torture.

After everything I just told you, what I am about to tell you may come as a huge surprise. Even though it bothers me so much to be a part of an animal's death, I did something so out of character for me several years ago that it makes me think that maybe anything's possible.

Many years ago when I was on my mission, I had an experience which changed my life. I'm not referring to the mission itself, a mission is not "an experience" but a series of daily experiences. No, I'm referring to something I did on my mission.

I was serving in Caboolture in Queensland, Australia. My companion and I were riding through a park in Morayfield on our way to do some missionary work. As we passed the pond, I looked out at the water and saw some ducks in it.

My companion and I got off our bikes and started throwing rocks into the water. We were trying to see how close we could get to a duck with a rock without hitting it. This went on for several minutes.

I don't know why the game changed, but it did. Gradually the point of the game changed from "how close can I get to the duck without hitting it" to "I wonder if I can hit the duck". So, I started aiming to hit the duck. Let me rephrase this a tad, the aim of MY game became “I wonder if I can hit the duck”. I don’t know if my companion’s game changed or not.

I've never been an athletic individual and my aim is terrible so I kept missing. To compensate for my lack of skill, I increased the size of the rocks. The rocks got to be softball size and bigger. I lobbed them one after another at the ducks.

Then I hit one!

One of the larger rocks came down squarely on top of a duck’s head. The weight of the rock pushed the duck under the water and he remained under the water for a good 5 seconds. Those were a long 5 seconds for me.

The duck eventually resurfaced and when he did, I began to feel terrible. His poor little head was bent back in a direction that God never intended it to be bent and he wasn’t moving at all. I watched and watched and prayed that he would start moving. But he never did. My stupid, selfish, sadistic actions had caused the death of one of God’s most innocent creatures.

I expressed to my companion how badly I felt for the duck and we never mentioned it again.

I feel terrible about the death of the duck, but his death had a positive influence on my life. I feel like I have a better empathy towards God’s creatures. I avoid situations where I could cause an animal’s injuries through my own irresponsibility or even an occasional flare up of my sadistic side.

2006-06-28T13:32:00.000-05:00

Sorry about the ads. I figured that I put enough time and effort into this page that I might as well try to get reimbursed for some of it.

Caleb "Chrome Dome"

Beware of Sharks!

2006-06-28T11:26:00.000-05:00

Gracie (my older daughter) and her cousin, Savannah

Eliza (My younger daughter)

A Message To All You Cheaters

2006-06-24T23:10:00.000-05:00

Erin and I occasionally watch the television show "Cheaters". Often when the cheating loved one is confronted, they will get angry with their cheated loved one. They get angry because the cheatee chose the television show "Cheaters" as their way of confronting the cheater.

Listen, YOU CHEATING SCUM! You're the dishonest one... Not your loved one for not telling you they were calling "Cheaters"!

Stress - The Number One Enemy of the Father of Two

2006-06-24T23:07:00.000-05:00

I have been so stressed out lately. I can't believe how stressful it is to have two young kids. It's so hard to keep my cool when one daughter is crying but when they both start up, it's almost impossible.

Don't get me wrong, I love both daughters...they are both at ages right now that drive me nuts.

Oh well, what do you do...

The Vista View Vigilante - The Rest of Chapter 1

2006-06-22T20:00:00.000-05:00

I am in the 7th grade at Vista View Junior High School. Most people at school consider me a nobody, too. I do have a few friends though. I have my 3 best friends: Jacob Buchanan, Darren Snee, and Vance Smith. We are so different from each other that I sometimes wonder how we became friends at all.

Jacob plays lineman for our football team, the Vista View Fighting Beavers. It’s Jacob’s job to keep the other team from tackling our quarterback.

Darren is big, too, but he is a bit of a punk rocker. He has long hair and wears chains and things and t-shirts with band logos on the front.

My friend Vance is, well, a bit of a hick. He wears tight jeans, listens to country music, and sometimes says “Y’all”. It really gets on my nerves when he says that. But he is a really great guy.

Then there’s me. I am tall, but not big like Jacob and Darren. I don’t especially like sports and I like all kinds of music, not just punk or country. And I don’t wear chains or wear my jeans too tight. I guess I am just the one normal guy in our group.

We all eat lunch together everyday in the cafeteria. I really like eating lunch with them and not just because they are my friends. Being a nobody, I seem to be a target for bullies to pick on. And when I sit with my friends at lunch, the bullies don’t have the guts to bother me.

When I am not around my friends, the bullies are all over me like a swarm of bees. And not just any bullies either. I happen to be the target for the biggest meanest bully in school. Bearclaw Thrash.

Europe

2006-06-20T13:27:00.000-05:00

It's been a year since I returned from Germany, and I'm looking through my American Express statements looking for a missing $2,000 again. That's a long story that I may or may not share on the RCD. As I've been perusing my Amex Statements (and seeing everywhere I spent money in Europe), I can't help but miss Europe. Europe has such a charm to it. Everything is so new in the states. In the states, an old building is one that is 50+ years old. In Europe, seeing a building older than that is as easy as turning around. I thought I'd post a few of my favorite european photos up here for you to enjoy.

Strange statue I saw in Luxembourg

The EU flag grown from flowers at Keukenhof gardens in The Netherlands.

A field full of flowers next to Keukenhof in The Netherlands.

Erin, Gracie, and I in front of a carousel by the Eiffel Tower and Trocadero.

This street in Germany is exactly what I was speaking of before. Look how old the buildings are.

The Frankfurt Temple!

A street performer I saw in Paris at Sacre Couer. This guy is very talented. He looks a lot like Richard Simmons beneath the costumes.

Well, that's it for now.

Happy Juneteenth!

2006-06-20T00:02:00.000-05:00

While it's still June 19th, I wanted to wish you a Happy Juneteenth! Sometimes word travels slow in Texas (especially when it involves race relations). Although Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, (freeing the slaves) true freedom for the slaves wasn't realized until nearly 2 1/2 years later.

Quoting Wikipedia: "Juneteenth commemorates June 19, 1865, the day Union General Gordon Granger and 2,000 federal troops arrived on Galveston Island to take possession of the state and enforce slaves' new freedoms."

Slavery is a disgusting practice and rather than have an Emancipation Proclamation or even a Juneteenth, the practice of slavery should never have been started in the first place.

The Trouble With Hotels

2006-06-19T10:28:00.000-05:00

Erin and I packed up the kids and drove to Houston this weekend. Houston's not my favorite place in the world to visit but there are too many people we love in that swampy city.

We loaded up the van on Friday night and left the house around 5:00 pm. We made absolutely incredible time and made it to Huntsville by 7:45 pm. My best friend Jared met us at IHOP for dinner.

We left IHOP at 9:30 pm and hit the road. We finally pulled into our hotel in Webster at 11:00 pm. We were staying at the La Quinta in Webster. I stayed in La Quintas for 2 months last year. During my last stay, I’d been treated very rudely by hotel staff when I asked them to provide an amenity they claim is standard. Internet Access. I wrote a letter to their corporate office and received one back with a voucher for one free night in a La Quinta.

When I was checking us in on Friday, the front desk guy asked if we were going to use the credit card that he had on file for me. I told him that we would be using a voucher that we’d received from La Quinta’s corporate offices for a free night. He told me that every hotel makes the decision of whether to honor the voucher or not and that their hotel does not honor the voucher. I was very upset about this but I asked him if we could pay for it with my points. He said that would be fine. That out of the way, I got the wife and kids and luggage out of the van and we got settled in for the night.

The next morning when we went to check out, we were met at the Front Desk by the same grumpy woman staff member who was short with me when I asked her to bring some more milk out. I gave her the room keys and she asked if we were going to bill the room to the same credit card they had on file. I said, “No, I am paying for it with points.” She says to me, “You can’t pay for this room with your points.” At this point, I lost my patience with La Quinta and started yelling at her. I explained to her that the front desk guy last night said I could. She stopped me in mid-yell to say she was getting the manager.

The manager came over and I yelled at him about the voucher and the points. He called up the corporate office and after some haggling, they decided they would go ahead and accept the voucher. I got a receipt saying that we owed them NOTHING and we left.

If you think my story about crazy hotel rooms is over…you ain’t heard nothing yet. Keep reading.

Saturday night we stayed at one of the nicest Marriotts in Houston. We stayed on the Penthouse level in the second largest, nicest room in the hotel. I’ve spent over 6 months in Marriotts over the last 18 months, so I have free nights coming out of my pores. Anyways, the room was amazing and immaculate. It was in The Woodlands and the view from our room on the 14th floor was amazing. We did however notice that there was a large throng of people across the way at The Woodlands Pavilion. I didn’t think much of it because we were at the top floor of the Marriott across the way. How could those people over there affect us. Erin and the girls stayed in the room to get settled in while I went down to the van to get more luggage. On the way down, I asked a bellhop what the commotion was across the way. He explained that the local rock station is having a huge concert. He asked what room I was in. I said, “1433”. He said, “Uh oh!” I said, “What?” He told me that the room right next door is the largest in the hotel and one of the bands was renting it. He told me that if they have an after-party and it gets too loud, to give the front desk a call. I broke the news to Erin and we discussed it. Since any other room available would be a downgrade, we decided to ride out the night in the room we were in.

We went out to dinner and got back to the hotel around 11:30 pm. We put Gracie down in the other bed and she went right to sleep. Erin fed Eliza one last time and put her in her playpen to sleep. We tucked ourselves into bed and were asleep by 12:30 am. I remember the last thing I thought before losing consciousness was, “We dodged the bullet this time.”

We were awoken at 3:00 am by drunken screaming and laughter and mayhem in the hall outside our door. We could hear yelling, screaming, drinking, cursing, and what must have been the sounds of the band members pushing each other into walls and plants. Their groupies were there with them laughing loudly at all the stupid antics of the bands. They eventually took all of the behavior into the hotel rooms. It didn’t seem to help the noise level much though.

After getting into their hotel room, they started opening and closing all of the doors. Eventually they found the door between our adjoining rooms. When they found our side was locked, they started pounding on the door. Eliza’s playpen was right in front of the door. Fearing that they might drunkenly break the door down, Erin leaped out of bed and dragged Eliza’s playpen to a safer location. They finally slammed the door on their side shut and wandered on to other annoying behavior. Like going out on their balcony and taking the noise there. Their room had balconies. Our balconies were enclosed to make them part of our room. The noise level was terrible.

I grabbed the phone and called the Front Desk and complained. Within an hour, the noise level had dropped to nil and Erin and I could go back to sleep. Gracie is a very heavy sleeper and didn’t wake up. The noise and having her playpen dragged didn’t seem to bother or wake Eliza at all.

Erin and I were so sleepy on the drive home that we had to change drivers a few times. It was only a 4 hour drive.

70 Is Too Old For Fast Cars and Loose Morals

2006-06-15T09:02:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning on my way to work I saw an old woman (looked to be in her 70’s) driving a brand new convertible Ford Mustang. In my opinion that might just be considered blasphemy? I mean, isn’t the Ford Mustang a car for someone without grandkids? This can’t even be considered a “mid-life crisis” car for the old woman. I guess I could consider it her “end-of-life” crisis car.

If you’re 70 years old and driving a Ford Mustang, I’ve got some advice for you… You’re old, now get a grip and come to terms with it and do what all old people do. Buy a Crown Victoria!

Special Request

2006-06-14T15:18:00.000-05:00

To all you readers of this site, my loyal RCDs (Roaming Chrome Domers)! I have a very special request. I am trying to develop a web-based interactive Flash movie that will communicate with an Access database through an ASP page. The first part is easy (develop a web-based interactive Flash movie). Making the Access database is easy, too. I have no idea how to create the ASP page to make the two communicate.

Please contact me if you or anybody you're close to knows how to do this. I need somebody to mentor me through the process.

Please help...the fate of many wonderful, interactive sites lies in your hands!

Gorgeous picture of my wife

2006-06-13T12:00:00.000-05:00

I cut this out of a photo Erin's parents took at her baby shower for Eliza. This is one of the better recent photos I've seen of my wife.

What a hottie!

The Flying Two Year Old

2006-06-13T11:58:00.000-05:00

So, we've had our first staircase incident.

Erin was upstairs and I was downstairs when our older daughter Gracie decided to come down the stairs. At this point the details get a little sketchy because it happened so fast and I wasn't watching. I just heard Erin exclaim "Caleb!"

I turned in time to catch sight of Gracie sliding on her back and butt down the stairs. She was finally able to get her feet under her, but her momentum carried her up past a standing position and sent her airborne. She landed smack on the top of her head. The rest of her body was carried head over heels. she landed back on her tush again at the bottom of the stairs.

Before Erin or I heard the first screams we were over there. We picked her up and cuddled and consoled her. Erin, of course, started having Gracie list off whether this hurts or that hurts. Erin made her turn her head and checked her coordination and balance. I had her smack her tush and make gorilla sounds.

You'll be glad to know that she's okay. She seems to have no pain from the incident and her love for bananas seems to have increased.

Double-Talking… At Such a Young Age

2006-06-09T15:15:00.000-05:00

Well, Erin and I were shocked this week. Gracie has developed the ability to double-talk. And she’s good at it.

We were all sitting at the table the other night eating dinner. Gracie took her fork and put the opposite end of it in her mouth. For some reason, that bothers Erin. To support Erin, I started trying to get Gracie to stop. I said, “Don’t put that end of your fork in your mouth.” Gracie took it out and sat there thinking for a few moments and then slipped it through her closed lips. I was about to call her on it, when she put a big “Ha Ha I’ve got you” smile on her face and said to me “It’s not in my mouth Daddy.” Then she opened her lips and said, “It’s on my teeth!”

Yes, she had the end of the fork pushed up against her teeth.

I thought about telling her to keep it off her teeth, too, but I didn’t. The whole situation was too comical for that. I mean here’s a 2 year old arguing semantics with me. I just told her it’s fine on her teeth. Just keep it out of her mouth and fought hard to keep from laughing.

My Picture

2006-06-09T00:17:00.000-05:00

Hi everybody!

If any of you have been on my blog in the last day, you've noticed that my picture is missing. It's missing because I hosted it on the Comcast website. Since Comcast is no longer my ISP, they no longer want my handsome face anywhere on their servers. Oh well.

So, here's the plan... I made this post for the express reason of putting my picture on it. Once my picture is on it, I should be able to link my main pic to the one in this post and voila! My face is back in living color.

Okay, here goes nothing!

Does Eliza really exist?

2006-06-07T00:44:00.000-05:00

I realized yesterday that there are no photos of Eliza on The Roaming Chrome Dome. Here are some of my personal favorites.

By the way, I kicked Eliza in the head this evening... Oops...

The Things You Miss Out On When You're On The Road

2006-05-30T23:41:00.000-05:00

Today when I got home from work, Gracie was in her room trying to take a nap. She wasn't asleep yet but she was supposed to be. A while later, it was time for her to wake up. I went upstairs to wake her up and found she had finally fallen asleep. I tried to wake her up so she could get up and play for awhile, but she was too zonked out. So, I picked her up and carried her downstairs.

I got downstairs and she still wasn't waking up. Erin saw her and asked her if she'd like to cuddle with daddy on the couch. She said, "Yes." So, I lay down on the couch with Gracie. She looked up and looked like she was going to get up but then she lay down with her head on my chest. We just lay like that together for several minutes. It was great! Erin took a picture of it.

I've been thinking about this all evening. I've missed so much being on the road for the last year. I am home for a couple days, maybe weeks at a time and then I'm gone again. Love and affection isn't something that can be turned on and off. It's something that has to be nourished...daily. If I had stayed on the road, I may not have had this experience with Gracie for a long, long time. I believe that all of this time I have been home lately has fed her love for me to the point that she finally feels comfortable cuddling with me.

I've seen some beautiful things in the last 15 months I've been traveling, but I have 3 girls in my home who love me and I love them...and that's ten times more beautiful than anything I saw in the Louvre.

It's One Of My Favorite Shirts, Too!

2006-05-30T11:20:00.000-05:00

I picked up my 7 week old daughter to hand her to my wife this morning. I gave her a quick hug, handed her off to my wife, and then raced out the door. I felt pretty good that I was able to give her some love and escaped without any spit up on me.

About an hour ago, I was sitting in our staff meeting. I happened to look down and noticed that I had spit up dried into my shirt right above the pocket. Eliza must have had some in her mouth or on her lips and as I was hugging her it transferred to my shirt.

I would have felt embarrassed about it but for the fact that one of my bosses has a 2 year old and the other is due in the next couple of months with her first.

I'm beginning to think she attacks me with spit up on purpose. The laser sight attached to her mouth gave it away.

Who needs eyebrows?

2006-05-29T19:37:00.000-05:00

Well, it's Memorial Day. By the way, Happy Memorial day to you.

Erin and I decided to have a barbecue tonight. Well, Erin had a lot to do with the kiddoes (bath time for Gracie, nursing Eliza, etc.) so I decided to get the barbecue started without her. I knew she'd be cool with it because the sooner we feed Gracie, the sooner she goes to bed.

So, I cleaned off the grill and filled it with charcoal. I started spraying lighter fluid on it and at one point I remember thinking, "is this too much lighter fluid? " Nah, of course not. After spraying the charcoal with a copious amount of lighter fluid, I went to light it.

Please bear in mind that the following incident might possibly have been avoided if I had remembered that you never light charcoal with your head directly above the grill.

So, I grabbed my lighter and put my head directly over the top of the grill so I could look for the best place to start lighting the charcoal. I felt that the far right corner would be a splendid place to light the charcoal, so I leaned over the grill and clicked the lighter.

Allow me to mention that although I didn't have a lot of hair to begin with, I was surprised how much of it shriveled and disintegrated when the grill blew up in my face. My eyebrows are now farther apart because it was the hair between them that disintegrated. That is fine with me. I would prefer people know right away that I do not have a unibrow.

Parts of the rest of my eyebrows shriveled up and will have to be trimmed or removed. Same goes for my eyelashes, moustache, beard, and arm hair. You'll be glad to hear that the patches of hair scattered across my chrome dome survived the blast.

Hope you had a wonderful Memorial Day, too!

Vasectomy

2006-05-27T14:52:00.000-05:00

My friend Kelly called me the other day. He called to tell me that he'd just gotten a vasectomy. Although I'm happy that he's happy he did it, I did mention to him that I would never get one.

This morning I took Gracie upstairs so she could play in the playroom while Erin and Eliza were at the store. I specifically asked her if she wanted me to help her put her tutu on. She said "No", so I went downstairs.

Two minutes later I hear (shouted at me from upstairs), "Help me put my tutu on!" I tried to calmly explain to her that she missed her chance. Nothing doing. You can't calmly explain anything to a 2 year old when you're not giving into her.

So, Gracie throws a crying, screaming tantrum. She finally stops screaming and crying about the tutu to immediately start screaming and crying about how she wants me to wipe the snot off her face.

Kelly, can I get your doctor's name, address, and phone number?

Urinals

2006-05-25T02:33:00.000-05:00

So, I went to the restroom at work today to make a urine deposit. There are two urinals in the Men's room, one that's mounted lower on the wall and one that's mounted higher.

After walking into the Men's room I noticed that there was a shorter gentleman using the higher urinal. At this point I had two choices, hold it or use the lower one.

Now holding it was not a choice. I've heard that holding it can cause prostate problems and possibly make it difficult to create more babies or enjoy the act of creating them.

I was forced to use the lower urinal.

Okay, here is a request to all you short men out there. USE THE LOWER URINAL!

You Big Baby!

2006-05-21T00:22:00.000-05:00

Eliza is 6 weeks old and she is currently wearing shorts that were loose on Gracie when she was 3 months old.

I guess children are all different!

The Vista View Vigilante - Chapter 1

2006-05-19T00:51:00.000-05:00

Chapter 1 - The Nobody

Hi, my name is Cole Green. There is nothing special about me. I am just a twelve-year-old nobody. I go to a nobody school where I hang out with my nobody friends and that is basically my nobody life. Why am I a nobody? If you knew me, you wouldn’t have to ask. My parents must have known I was going to be a nobody the day I was born. That’s probably why they gave me to my mom’s mom, Granny Bova, so they could go study the nesting patterns of yellowback moths in Zimbabwe. I haven’t seen them since the day I was born.

Oh, being raised by Granny Bova isn’t so bad. Well, it’s not so bad if you don’t mind Granny Bova’s evil temper and binge eating. Calling Granny Bova a big woman would be an understatement. Have you seen those motorized shopping carts at the grocery store? Well, she has to use two of them to get around a grocery store. She just plants one enormous cheek on each seat and away she goes. And may heaven help you, if you stand between Granny Bova and her favorite food.

Like the time when Granny Bova and I had to make an emergency run to the grocery store because she ran out of pork rinds. As we approached the pork rind aisle in the store, I knew there was going to be trouble. There was a little girl who couldn’t have been more than four years old and she was crying because she had gotten lost from her parents. Worst of all, she was standing right in front of the pork rinds! Granny Bova drove her motorized carts right up to her and ordered her to move. The poor thing was scared already just being lost. But then when you add in the sight of this huge mean monster who is part overweight woman and part motorized scooter, you have one girl who is too scared to do anything but cry even harder. That was when I heard Granny Bova’s stomach growl and that must have been the last straw for her. Granny Bova backed her motorized carts up 75 feet to the beginning of the aisle. She started revving the engines on her carts. The little girl just continued to cry her eyes out and still wouldn’t move.

Well, I don’t know which was louder, the squeal of the tires on the carts as Granny Bova took off towards the little girl, or the infuriated roar that came out of Granny Bova’s mouth! As Granny Bova accelerated down that aisle, I started yelling at the girl to run. “Run! She’s going to kill you! Run!” I yelled frantically, but the girl still just stood there crying. I tried to run to her and get her out of the way, but by the time I had taken one step I realized that I would never make it in time. Granny Bova was only 3 feet away from her and closing fast. When two motorized grocery carts and an incredibly fat woman hit a crying little girl, it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out who is going to win this shoving match. And win Granny Bova did.

I watched in horror as the little girl was tossed into the air by the cart. I heard her scream, “Aaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeee!” The next few moments seemed to go by in slow motion. The little girl was floating through the air like a tiny hysterical angel. She was waving her arms as if she thought she could fly. Then I saw her coming down and I braced myself for the worst. Down she came like a cannonball with ponytails and fell right into…a shopping cart filled with bread. She landed in it with a soft thump. I guess the sensation of flying through the air and then landing in a big pile of bread must have been fun because she finally stopped crying and actually started giggling.

I looked at Granny Bova and I saw her already devouring a fistful of pork rinds. Then she looked up and gave that girl one of the meanest glares I have ever seen her give and she mumbled very quietly, “Not fair. Filthy brat should have broken her leg. She will next time.” Then she turned to me and said, “Let that be a lesson to nobody’s like you and that little girl! Stay out of my way.” Now, do you see why I am a nobody? Because Granny Bova has always told me I am a nobody. And I guess if Granny Bova says I am a nobody, it must be true.

A Novel Idea

2006-05-18T18:15:00.000-05:00

Howdy,

When I was a boy, I used to like to dream that I was a superhero. People look at me today and consider me an adult, but I still dream about being a superhero. A few years ago, I got the idea for a novel about a boy/young man named Cole Green. Cole (with the help of an unlikely ally) is given the opportunity to become a superhero and clean up the streets of his home town.

Tonight if I have time, I will put the first chapter on "The Roaming Chrome Dome". I'll try to add a new chapter at least on a monthly basis.

Feel free to comment on each chapter. I am a novice writer after all and any help/inspiration you can give me is welcome and might appear in the novel.

Enjoy!

New Job

2006-05-18T18:04:00.000-05:00

Greetings.

It is May 18 and I was slated to arrive in Okinawa today (or maybe next Monday). It doesn't matter which, because I changed jobs and now I don't have to go.

I got an e-mail about 2 weeks ago saying that as of August 14, Unisys would no longer be requiring the help of the subcontractors. My company is one of of the subcontractors. So the plan was go to Okinawa in late May, fly home in early August to no job. All of the time I could have been interviewing I was going to be in Japan.

So, I got cracking and started sending out resumes. The day after I sent out my resumes, my phone started ringing. I had several companies that wanted to interview with me. I interviewed with the company that sounded most promising and they ended up offering me a position.

I now work with a company called Ameripath. The pay is right and there should be good opportunities to develop my career in the direction I want it to go. How exciting!

Eliza

2006-05-18T17:59:00.000-05:00

This post, I know, isn't very timely...

----------------------------------------------------------

On April 6, our family was blessed with the addition of another little girl. Erin gave birth to Eliza at 8:57pm.

Eliza was due on April 3 (Monday) so I worked until March 31 (Friday) before starting my leave. April 3 arrived and still no baby. When we went to see the doc that day, he told us “Well, no baby today.” Neither of us was happy about that but what can you do? He scheduled us another Ob appointment for the morning of April 6.

On the morning of April 6, we went to see the Ob again and he said “No baby this week most likely”. So, we scheduled with he and the hospital to have Erin induced on April 11.

Later that day, Erin started having more contractions than usual. We thought that a movie might be just the thing to take her mind off the contractions. We called up Erin’s mom and asked her if she could watch Gracie for the evening. She offered to keep her overnight to give Erin and me some time alone. We thought that would be a splendid idea. So, Erin and I got dressed up nice for a movie (we always dress up for a movie) and Gracie put on her Dora the Explorer backpack and off we went to Grandma’s. By the time we hit Grandma’s, the contractions were so bad that Erin couldn’t get out of the van.

We decided to forge on to the movie theater, not because we really wanted to see the movie but because we’re addicted to cheap disgusting movie theater hot dogs. By the time we pulled in, Erin had decided that we were going to the hospital. I went to pull out of the movie theater parking lot when Erin stopped me. “Get my hot dog first!” I ran and got her a hot dog and then we raced back to our house. I grabbed our hospital bags and then we left for the hospital.

When we arrived at around 8:10pm, Erin could barely make it into the hospital. We grabbed a wheelchair and I took her back to the labor and delivery wing. They got her up on the bed and checked her and lo and behold, she was dilated to 10 centimeters. We waited several minutes and when the doctor arrived, Erin pushed a few times and the baby was born at 8:57pm. Eliza was 7 lbs 6 ozs, 20 inches, and absolutely beautiful.

We got Gracie to the hospital the next day and I think she already loves her baby sister.

Lessons Learned From Death and Destruction

2006-03-20T20:03:00.000-06:00

Yesterday my friends and I drove out to Ottawa, Kansas to visit the farm of one of our colleagues. After an uneventful drive there and a fun visit, we started our drive back. We missed one of our turns and instead of back-tracking, we decided to just take the scenic route down the back country roads.

We were heading westbound on KS-56 (a two lane highway) at around 60 mph, when a guy in a Mercury Mystique shot around us from behind to get in front of us. The guy had to have been doing between 90 to 100 mph. He stayed in the left lane (oncoming traffic) for around ten seconds. About that time I started to wonder why in the world he wasn’t getting back into our lane. All of a sudden, he jerked his wheel to the right and overshot our lane and ended up with two of his wheels on the soft shoulder…still going at least 90 mph! I could see him struggling to control his car but never hitting the brakes.

All of a sudden, his car jerked back to the left and onto the road and then past it. He went down a hill and out of sight. Although I knew he had to have wrecked, I was hoping that maybe he just spun out. As we approached the spot where we last saw him, we could finally see what happened to him. The crash was much worse than I could have predicted it would be.

We had to wait for a truck that was rubber-necking to pass and when they did, we raced down the hill to offer aid. The hill actually ended in a steep embankment and at the bottom of it and across a drainage ditch was the Mercury Mystique.The driver was half in and half out of the car. His legs were still in the car but his upper body was hanging out of the window and down the side of the door. His arms were hanging straight down from his body. He was facing the car and his t-shirt had fallen down around his upper chest. Judging by his lack of body hair and love handles, this guy couldn’t have been more than 20 years old.

He wasn’t moving at all so we raced over to render aid. My friend, Mary, has worked in Emergency Rooms and Trauma Wards so she immediately assessed the situation. She felt for a pulse and did not feel one. At that point we stopped rendering aid…not because he had no pulse but because he had a hole in his head and his brains were on the ground next to the car.

Just then, the pick-up truck that had been rubber-necking showed up. It was an older couple. They had also seen him go flying off the road and had turned around to offer their aid. Mary explained to them that the driver was dead and then ran to the nearest house and had him call 911. How close was the nearest house? The wreck was in his side yard. The owner of the house called 911. At that point there was nothing to do but wait.

I used this downtime to take my first good look at the car. The Mystique looked about 4 feet shorter than it originally was. You could tell that it must have rolled and flipped because there wasn’t a single panel of the car unsmashed, undented, or undestroyed. It was sitting on all 4 wheels though. The smells of burning oil and rubber were very heavy in the air. And somehow in its terrifying trip down the embankment, it missed every tree and crossed a 4 feet wide drainage ditch, too.

Strangest of all, lying next to the car was a rifle. It didn’t look like a .22 or a shotgun. It looked a lot more deadly. I hoped and prayed it was a paintball gun.

The first officials on the scene were the Council Grove Police Department. They raced past us to help the driver. Mary (thinking that brains on the ground is not as clear an indication of death to others as it is to her) started telling the cops that the man was dead. I pulled Mary back and reminded her that this is most likely not the first dead body they’ve seen. She gave a nervous laugh, but went ahead and stood back to let the cops work. The cops realized he was dead pretty quickly and covered his body with a blanket.

One of the officers came over to me and told me that the man was extremely inebriated. I took this as a chance to point out the rifle to the officer. The officer said he had already noticed it. I asked him if it was a paintball gun. He said “No, that’s called an SKS. It’s a semi-automatic assault rifle.”

The ambulance arrived next. The paramedics dashed in to help and it took them seconds to realize there was nothing they could do for him. At that point, they came over to us witnesses and started assessing if they needed to treat us for shock. We told them we were fine and they went to check on the older couple.

A couple of cars from the Sheriff’s office showed up. The deputy had all of the witnesses fill out reports. After filling out the reports, the deputy told us we would probably be hearing from the Highway Patrol and then let us leave.

As we finished our drive back to Junction City, Mary asked me if I was okay. I was upset but I realized that it wasn’t due to the death I had just witnessed. The reason I am upset is because when an emergency popped up and someone needed my help, I didn’t know what to do. If the man hadn’t been dead but severely injured, I wouldn’t have known how to help him.

This really bothered me. I love my wife and my daughters very much. They are the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I do my best all day long. What if we get in an accident and it’s up to me to stabilize their conditions before help arrives? I wouldn’t know what to do.

I made a decision on that drive back to my hotel. As soon as I can, I am going to take a course on first aid. I need to learn how to check someone’s pulse, stop bleeding, and perform CPR. This is not just for the welfare of my family but to assist others I come in contact with who need help.

My 2 Year Old's Birthday Party

2006-02-18T23:02:00.000-06:00

So, my little girl had her 2nd birthday today...

It was mostly a family affair. My sister, Emily, and her husband and two little boys came.

My brother's wife, Jessica, came. Nathan had to work today. He works most weekends (he is in sales after all).

Josh's wife Laura came with my Dad.

My grandparent's came. They currently live around the corner but are selling their house and moving into something more manageable down in League City, Texas.

Erin's brother Greg brought his nearly 4 year old daughter, Savannah. That little girl is cute as a button. Greg's not bad himself.

Erin's parents, of course, were there. We are very fortunate to live so close to them. They are very helpful to Erin while I am out of town.

Erin's Grandmas attended and so did her Aunt and Uncle. Everybody seemed to have a great time.

Nicholas (Emily's little boy) and Savannah (Greg's little girl) get along really well. They insisted on sharing a seat while they ate their cake and ice cream.

Erin and I stayed up late last night getting the house ready for the party. We hung streamers and decorations. Because Gracie's birthday is so close to Valentine's Day, the easiest kind of decorations to find are hearts and flowers and cupids. So, guess what the theme of the party was? Yep, you guessed it.

Thanks to everybody who came to the party! Gracie was thrilled to have you there.

Everything I Need To Know I Learned From Seinfeld

2006-02-03T23:27:00.000-06:00

When I was in the sixth grade (for the second time), a book was published that was all the rave among educators. It was called “Everything I Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.” My Dad used to take me to the book store all the time and I remember that book was everywhere. The book was so popular that they made a poster about it that covered its main points.

That poster was everywhere. Every classroom I was in had a copy of it. It became a staple of classrooms for years to come. That and Charlie Brown comic strips. We’ll speak about how much I hate Charlie Brown comic strips in a future article.

Every time I saw that poster I would think, “if I learned everything I needed to know in Kindergarten, then what the heck am I doing in the sixth grade for the second time?” I hated public school. College was awesome though!

During college, I started to become a real fan of the television show Seinfeld. The self-titled show about nothing. It’s not structured. There’s no complicated storylines. The stories are wonderfully written and the characters interact with and dance around each other like a comedic waltz.

I was watching Seinfeld in my hotel room the other day when I started thinking about that stupid poster that plagued my youth again. I realized that in my case, everything I needed to know about being a good adult I learned from Jerry, George, Elaine, Kramer, and yes…even Newman.

For example…

It’s okay if you cannot remember your girlfriend’s name. Just ask her. She will prefer you ask her name than call her “Mulva”.
Don’t make any major decisions in the middle of passionate love-making, like for example promising your secretary a raise.
Slow and steady will often win the race, but strict obedience and uniformity will always get you the soup. No soup for you…come back one year!
Always lock the bedroom door when you are changing clothes after a cold swim. Remember: Once someone crafts an opinion of you , it can be nearly impossible to change it.
There are people in this world with high morals and standards. They don’t want to hear about any unusual games you play with your friends (i.e. Master of your Domain, King of the County, Lord of the Manor, or Queen of the Castle).
Sometimes you just have to accept that you didn’t have the right comeback at the right time. Flying out to Akron, Ohio to zing a guy with a line like jerk store, is not something a normal person does.

“Bosco!”

2006-02-03T22:44:00.000-06:00

This is my blog so I am going to vent a frustration I have felt for many years now. This frustration is related to the use of acronyms. Now don’t get me wrong, I like acronyms. I use acronyms. I come up with acronyms. I just wish people would learn the actual words that comprise the letters of the acronym before they use it.

There is a common device that most people use many times a week. You go up to this machine, slip a card in it, punch a few numbers, and VOILA! It gives you money and a receipt.

It is called the “ATM”, or as the morons refer to it…the ATM machine. Why are these people morons? Well, let’s examine the acronym. The letter “A” stands for “Automatic” and “T” stands for “Teller.” Now, here’s the kicker. Guess what the letter “M” stands for? “Machine!”

The point is this. When you say “ATM Machine”, you are saying “Automatic Teller Machine Machine.” That is why you are an idiot if you say “ATM machine”. It shows you have no idea what “ATM” stands for, yet you use the phrase anyways.

How about one more example? What is the code that you type into the ATM after you have entered your card? If you said “PIN number”, you’re exactly the kind of fool I’m talking about. In fact, you’re a bigger fool than if you say ATM machine. I do believe that everybody knows that “PIN” is short for “Personal Identification Number”. If you know what PIN stands for and you say “PIN number” anyways, shame on you…

The purpose of acronyms is to shorten phrases and replace words. Let’s not be adding words after acronyms that already exist in them.

I say, “Down with redundancy! Up with simplicity!”

The title of this article is from an episode of Seinfeld that was all about George’s ATM code. His code was “Bosco.”

Let's Get It Started...

2006-01-30T00:29:00.000-06:00

Hello everybody!

I decided to finally do it. I started a blog. People are always surprised that I don't have one. Actually they're always surprised that I don't have a blog and an MP3 player (by the way, I don't have an MP3 player). I have thought about starting one for a long time. I have also thought about keeping a journal for a long time, but I never got around to seriously doing either of them. So, I'll just make this blog my journal and kill two birds with one stone.

My name's Caleb.

I have a gorgeous wife named Erin and a beautiful daughter named Gracie. Gracie's little sister Eliza is due at the beginning of April. We are all very excited!

I was sent to Germany last year on business and Erin and Gracie came out to visit me. We had a really nice time together...

Well, this was just a small post to get the blog started.

Enjoy!

---Caleb (Da Bombastic)