Children’s Mental Health Week has rolled around the calendar again. In about 2 hours, I’ll be on a stage near Knoxville Zoo’s Tiger Tops juggling knives, fire and chickens and if I do this right I finish with lunch! It’s going to be 78° outside so I’m wearing wool tuxedo pants. My teenager daughter is sobbing because she has to be with her family instead of her boyfriend. Gotta go.
Month: May 2009
Star Trek – JJ Abrams Hits a Homerun!
Spoiler free!
My wife had but one request for her birthday (this coming Tuesday–she’ll be 21!) and that was a date to see J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek on opening night. A little luck, a babysitter and some Fandango magic later and Cathy and I had a date tonight! Star Trek officially opens tomorrow, the 8th, which with any other movie means the first showing is at midnight. Apparently, Hollywood recognized us old guys have jobs and families and did pre-release showings as early as 7:00pm. We hit the 7:30pm and us old guys it was! At first there didn’t appear to be anyone under 30 in the theater. For that matter, our theater closely resembled a Star Trek convention. We had munchkins, a blind lady, an albino (whom I went to college with and haven’t seen for like 15 years), grandparents supervising the 30 year olds, and a couple of guys who sounded like regulars for voice overs of Star Trek convention spoof videos spouting off Trek trivia.
The actual movie
Cathy said it first but I agree: Fans of the original Star Trek are going to absolutely LOVE this movie! It is packed full of references to the original TV series including one character that I wanted to reach out to and scream, "But don’t you understand! You’re wearing a red shirt!" People not familiar with the Star Trek franchise will see a technically good movie and should enjoy it but will miss the subtle inside jokes and references except for when the audience cheers at a few trademark lines. Live long and prosper!
A date!
Mobile post sent by djuggler using Utterli. Replies.
What does this symbol mean?
Update: I had a wonderful response to this question here, on Twitter, and at Utterli! It appears that the symbol is the state symbol for the Palmetto State – South Carolina. In researching TN’s state symbol, I’ve discovered it is an elephant stomping on two halves of a broken donkey.
Of Grasshoppers
Student: Does it really matter?
Master: To whom?
Of Grasshoppers
Student: I’m thinking of cutting my tongue out.
Master: Nothing tastes better than silence.
When I say..
When I say I’m too young to be a grandfather, everyone replies exactly the same, "OOOoooh No you’re not!"
The Day Thus Far
So far:
- Slept in a little…needed that
- Took daughter to buy a boutonnière for her date for the prom (can you believe it? Time flies!)
- Blogged something…"A blogger blogs…always"
Next:
- Wash dishes
- Buy a shotgun (daughter going to her first prom tonight) (can you believe it? Time flies!)
- code/program…a lot!
- See daughter off to her prom (can you believe it? Time flies!)
- Go to a sweat lodge
Internet has ruined nudity!
The human form, particularly the female form, is beautiful! All shapes sizes colors. It doesn’t matter. They hang in our art galleries, appear in photographic journals, hang on the walls of our homes (most fun thing to say at a friend’s house “so, is that your wife?” answer “yes”), are used in advertisement, sculptures, and so many other places. Nudity is art. I think religion was first to try to ruin the human body. Granted, some Pagan religions actually celebrate nudity. But the Internet succeeded where religion failed. How? Religion made it taboo and that raises curiosity actually making the forbidden object/fruit/alcohol/drug more desirable. The Internet threw it in our faces making it meh.
When I was a child to understand the human body, you had to sneak a peek at your friend’s father’s 2 or 3 adult magazines (if you could find them), or squint your eyes at the fuzz on the scrambled Playboy channel (how do you think The Magic Eye pictures
What brought me here today? A leg cramp. Last night my left calf spasmed nearly bringing tears to my eyes. I sat up in bed and grabbed my leg pressing my palm hard against the muscle. I tried stretching the muscle and relaxing the muscle, pointing the toes down and up, and it laughed in my face and wriggled beneath my palm as if infested with a thousand alien worms. I needed water and a banana. This seemed to go on forever and deemed a post. I sought a picture to accompany the post by Googling calf muscle. Clicked a link (NSFW). And uttered these words aloud: Oh, I like the bridge! Apparently, I now see dolphins again.
Deep Throughts
Our very existence requires whole heartedly exchanging love meaningfully every day.
Rabbit, rabbit
I toyed with superstitions as a child. The common ones: walking under a ladder is bad luck, always put your right shoe on first, breaking a mirror will get you 7 years bad luck (I still twitch at the thought of breaking a mirror), 4 leaf clovers are good luck, and I even owned a rabbit foot (not so lucky for the rabbit). There were some other more ritualistic superstitions I had but they’ve slipped my brain. I challenged the walking under a ladder by setting one up and intentionally going under it 100 times or so (which is probably part of why my life as unfolded the way it did). I used to find it very relaxing to sit in a clover patch and seek out a 4 leaf clover. When I’d find one, I’d stick it in the L section of the dictionary on the page that had the definition for luck. Will we have to buy two Kindles
Today, KristyK taught me a new one when she published "rabbit, rabbit" on Facebook. I almost let it go as someone just being silly on the Internet but she had a comment talking about remembering to say it. Why would you say it? Thanks to the power of Google and Wikipedia, I now understand.
…a common superstition, held particularly among children. The most common modern version states that a person should say “rabbit, rabbit, white rabbit” upon waking on the first day of each new month, and on doing so will receive good luck for the remainder of that month. [Source, Wikipedia, Rabbit rabbit]
Dare I teach "rabbit rabbit white rabbit" to my children?
You’ll be singing all day!
Parent mistake #78314
Inheritance
There are a few things I inherited from my father. He is still alive. I am talking about genetically and behaviorally. For instance, I have his hair. Fortunately for me he still has his so odds are baldness is not in my future. Not that I’m saying anything about hairlessness. Bald is cool. Shoot for the past week I’ve been thinking about shaving my head. It’s the economy stupid. I also got his intelligence even if my wife cannot see it. The words "god damn" came from him. Despite my efforts to remove that from my vocabulary, I seem intent on passing that legacy to my children. It’s reflexive particularly when the stress is up. Ever since I started taking blood pressure medicine, I have become acutely aware of when the stress is up. Don’t get me wrong. Before the blood pressure medicine I was well aware of my mental state and knew when the stress was up. But now I feel it differently. Yesterday I could feel the blood coursing through my veins. Prior to the blood pressure medicine I was less aware of the tension in my arms and chest but it was there and constant. I should fart more. Or get the wife to calm me down more frequently.
Yesterday, knowing my blood pressure and stress were up, I struggled to keep myself in check. This morning, I overslept and was simply not awake enough to be responsive instead of reactionary.
I’m bigger and louder than you so I’m right
Amy will be seven in just over a month. Her sister, who turns 16 in June, has taught Amy teenager behaviors that she shouldn’t know. Then there is the inheritance thing. After all, she is my child. And she has my temper. And stubbornness. And those pretty blue eyes. This morning I had but one focus: get Amy ready for school and out the door on time. Considering I overslept, we were pressed for time. I was so focused on doing my job of being a father I forgot to actually be a father. After I dropped a teary eyed child off at school, I finally realized that this morning Amy needed to be in control. In control of what? Anything. It wouldn’t have mattered but instead of being that television dad who instantly has the wisdom and humility to help his child, I became the unruly dictator and drill sergeant who bullies his children as objects instead of sensitive beings. I yelled, I cursed, I threatened to throw toys away, and I produced tears on demand from what minutes earlier had been two happy, joyful children. Yes it was abusive. And wrong. And unnecessary. And I feel horrible. She had a need and did not know how to express it. She needed to be in control. She took this control by taking her brother’s toy. All I had to do we redirect her and give her the chance to make some choices and decisions and, in effect, be in control. Instead I taught her that you can be in control by raging, raising your voice, cursing, and threatening. I get no dad points today. Raising children is tough but you shouldn’t raise the dead and wake the house in the process. Last week I secretly vowed to myself to never raise my voice in anger to the children again. No. It wasn’t just the children. I vowed to never raise my voice in anger to anyone ever again. I failed. Can I have a Mulligan? Amy, I’m sorry.
