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From the mouths of babes

Somehow I hurt my knee badly. I suspect it has something to do with playing hacky sack with Amy (10) and Evan (7) at the bus stop every morning. How badly? Last night I iced it with a 50/50 slurry of water and 90% isopropyl alochol, and washed a hydrocodone down with a glass of wine (or two). How badly? This morning my wife had to help me put my pants and shoes on.

Me, hobbling to the bus stop with one of my Mountainsmith Carbonlite Pro Trekking Poles in hand.
Evan, 7 years old, cheerfully: "You look like Granddaddy!"

Nothing heals you faster! (And guess which child is getting coal for Christmas)

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Big Orange Blasphemy

#14 Stephanie Psick - LA TemptationMy father watched football regularly. Recliner, beer, game, don’t interrupt Dad. We lived in New Orleans in 1981 for Super Bowl XV and I rooted for Philadelphia and proudly hung my Eagles pennant on my wall. I played shirts and no-shirts tackle football, albeit poorly, with friends in a field of snow in New Jersey once or twice but never played in leagues or school. Football just wasn’t my game.

I came to Knoxville, TN for college and the football spirit sucked me in. Despite the University of Tennessee’s losing team, the fandom was incredible. With a stadium seating over 100,000 people and always packed on game day, it is difficult to not get sucked into the excitement via the crowd mob mentality. I still didn’t understand the game and was mostly there to cheer with the pigskin made it over the goal line. My fandom has waned. I don’t participate in the superstitions and don’t watch the games. But I do get a text message with the final score and am always slightly disappointed when UT loses.

Is it possible to get someone like me interested in football? Apparently so! Welcome, the Lingerie League!

Gang Tackle

And now every guy who reads this immediately heads over to Bing image search for "lingerie league wardrobe malfunction."

Images by KellBailey. See also.

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State of Me

I’ve taken this next week off with the intentions of stepping away from the computer, clearing my head and addressing those things neglected in my life (my family, my house, my yard, my cars, my juggling, my body, my volunteer activities aka scouts) and perhaps finding the bottom of a nice single malt (unlikely-I’d prefer several hours of meditation to a bottle now-a-days). Thus far, I have spent all day Saturday programming and Sunday morning programming. C’est la vie.

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Whoa! Knoxville has public transportation?!

For the better part of 13 years, I worked from home. Prior to that I had worked for a company that had an exercise room complete with showers so I would brave the Knoxville roads of Gleason and Dean Hill without sidewalks or even shoulders and ride my bike to work. It wasn’t terribly long lived but biking was certainly an option. In January 2010, I took a six week contract locally which required me to be in an office downtown. After purchasing a wardrobe, I began commuting from Rocky Hill to the campus area of Knoxville. I considered the KAT, k-trans, the Knoxville busing system but KAT had recently removed the route that came within a half mile of my house. To get to a bus stop, I’d have to walk an hour (3 miles) with half that distance having no sidewalks or shoulders. Knoxville is extremely unfriendly to bicycles and pedestrians.

Our cars all died. Over the years we have gone from a multicar family to a single car family then burst to a three car family and are now back down to one functioning vehicle with three dead vehicles (plus one dead motorcycle).

Yesterday, I was supposed to take the van to the wife during lunch and she would return me to work. Instead I brought it to her just before her appointment and my daughter’s activity. She implored me just to drive back to work and she’d make phone calls to find a way home. Instead, I picked up a bus schedule, scrounged a dollar bill, four dimes, a nickel, and five pennies, and within minutes I was sitting on a KAT bus. For the record, buses will accept more money than the fare ($1.50) but gives change as bus credit so a $5 bill gets you 3.3 rides and they don’t take credit cards. I asked the driver instructions on how to depart the bus near my destination and she to me when I should pull the cord (which rings the driver). The ride was comfortable and relaxing. The other riders were sane and only toward the end of the trip did two passengers come in stinking of cigarette smoke. Twenty minutes later I was departing the bus. KAT only drops passengers at official stops so I found myself with a bit of a hike to get to the office. The walk was 10 minutes. $1.50 and thirty minutes traveled me from West Knoxville to campus without the wear and tear, gas, or tension of driving my own car.

Overall, I have not been on a KAT bus in over a decade or two and believed that it just wasn’t a viable means of transportation due to lack of stops and infrequency of pickups but I found that the commute wasn’t much different than driving myself. If anything, I may become a commuter who drives to the mall then rides the bus downtown. Hopefully KAT will extend a route down Northshore and the bus will become an even more viable option.

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Dad of the year

Two of my children have entered The Age of Bickering. Every parent knows it. No matter how inconsequential, these two find something to fight over. The seven year old knows how to push the buttons of the ten year old and enjoys doing so. The ten year old wants to control everything and sets up scenarios she know will get the seven year old going. My morning routine consists of constantly reminding them, "please don’t fight" "please get along." I have a quota and apparently I can repeat myself only so many times before the Hulk takes over. Then everyone cries and I feel like a cad for the rest of the day. It’s quite amazing how quickly a calm, happy morning can turn to disaster and tension. I have committed myself to becoming Zen Dad but I’m a far way from snatching any stones from palms.

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Wanna screw?

Today I glanced down at my desk to see a tiny screw beside my headphones. I immediately assume a screw fell out of the headphones. Nope. All accounted for. I study the screw. It’s a tiny machine screw with a slightly rounded head. I have no idea what it belongs to. So, naturally, I come to the conclusion that I need to buy a small bag of tiny machine screws and start secretly leaving one or two beside people’s laptops and other electronic devices! This is the purpose of this tiny screw.