Flakes and rubbers

If you lived in St. Louis, you would understand that I am skeptical of what I see out my window this morning...

More snow than they predicted!

St. Louis is on the southern edge of where the jet stream flows during winter nowadays (it has moved north in the last decade or so) so we don't get much snow. This weekend is predicted to be an exception, with 5 to 8 inches of snow on the way... says the weather men who are all sporting wood right now. These guys are edgy, caffeine-filled and frustrated by the lack of real winter weather for the last few years. Dave Murray's hair is puffed up even higher than normal.

I'll keep a running log and some progress photos throughout the day and night. Here's our overnight snow:



Ol' Puffy Hair says there will be a daytime lull and the snow will begin again this afternoon and evening, so I'm going to warm some milk for hot chocolate, pop in a few movies this weekend and watch the fun ensue.

Snowmen, balls, Santa, laughing all the way, etc.

One of those personality tests but this one's cool because it has fancy sliders and stuff

I found this personality test on Blogarita's page... and like her, I can't seem to pass one of these up.

Here's how I scored:


Place your mouse over each section to see what that color represents.

Please feel free to take the test... it's pretty in-depth, it takes only about 20-25 minutes and it is aesthetically pleasing and quite functional. (a couple of things the test told me I should work on opening up to) It's all graphic slide-rules, etc. so it's fun to fill out.

As for personal accuracy in my case, it's fairly close. I don't think I have quite the attention to style is claims I have, and I don't think my "openness" is as high as they claim.

Eh, those that know me can be the judge.

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In my last post, I think maybe I made it sound like the Christmas tree in the photo was mine. It is not, but I can see why some might assume it is. Here's a photo of our main tree (which hasn't been set up yet):


I would love to show you a photo of the family room tree, which is currently up and decorated, but I'm too lazy to walk downstairs and snap one. It's a new tree with a snowman theme, and Emily picked out amazing decorations. Makes me feel all Christmas-y and shit.

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I posted more new material on RadorBad.net. I think I'm going to adjust the style of my writing over there - it's too boring and matter-of-fact the way it is.

Stay in the truck

There are very few more poignant, ass-kicking insults than telling someone to "stay in the truck." In effect, you are saying: "Your opinion means little here and you are a newbie, a rookie, a novice... therefore I shall handle this transaction and you are to remain silent."

Except all you need are those four short, mentally debilitating words.

In fact, I've found that with just a few added words, it can be even more stinging: "Stay in the truck with the windows rolled up." Meaning: "You are an EXTREME novice, and you don't even deserve to overhear the transaction I, alone, am about to handle based on your rookiness."

Level three is: "Stay in the truck with the windows rolled up and the radio loud." Meaning: "It is ridiculous that I would even attempt to explain the transaction I am about to handle singlehandedly, even after-the-fact, because you are the mental equivalent of a toddler with Reyes Syndrome."

Finally: "Stay in the truck with the windows rolled up, the radio loud, and a hose through the window from the exhaust pipe." This is the ultimate insult. Meaning: "I am so far ahead of you, and so much more capable of handling this transaction, you merely staying in the truck isn't enough... you've begun to take up space that I cannot afford, so the world would be better off if your noviceness were permanently removed."

I think I had too much coffee this morning.

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I've started a new website - Rad or Bad. It's a place where I'll post reviews of my experiences with customer service people, businesses, companies, restaurants, etc. I'll post both good and bad for the whole world to see. Via comments, it will be interactive - feel free to contribute anything you'd like. I will begin posting tomorrow, and I'm sure the posts will be every bit as sporadic as the ones here. http://www.radorbad.net/.

Bottle Tree

I've been busier than a one-armed paper hanger this week. Or a cat covering up crap. Whore in church? Neh, that's being sweaty. You get my drift.

Here's a Christmas tree I'm working on:

This has my name written all over it. Is that a cup of coffee on top of the red gift? Yeah, I'd say you'd need it after setting up THAT tree.

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I changed servers for my business website again this week, which is what kept me extra busy. If you ever get the chance, avoid ixwebhosting.com. Their service is spotty, their upload and download speeds are inconsistent and they don't answer trouble tickets in a timely manner. In short, they suck. I moved to Sectorlink.com. MUCH better already.

Side note: you can now reach this blog via two addresses. My new addy is www.davemorrisblog.com. Or you can continue to access it via the usual Blogspot address. Two, two... TWO ways to view! And yet the crap I write doesn't warrant one address...

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We're narrowing down our list of names for Sparky. We are down to three or four, but we're not telling anyone until he's born. That's right, even you Ma. Sorry.

Meanwhile, Em has been busy on ebay, she bought about six thousand onesie's the other day. Note to friends - we won't be needing any newborn clothing. Start with about three-months and up. Oh, and we don't need diapers, either. Every time we go to Sam's we pick up a jumbo box, along with baby wipes. I think we might have enough for two babies.

Which is great, because our friends Dr. Mike and Paula have announced they are having another baby. We're taking all the credit, because we made a pact that if we had a baby, they would have another one. (Although Ella is cute enough for two)

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A partner and I are getting into the video production field. It's not a big stretch for me, since I have most of the equipment sitting in my audio studio now. The software is installed and I'm preparing to build out a new green-screen room and office soon. We're going HD right off the bat.

So now I, who have never done video production, now must learn the new software, reorganize my office and schedule, and launch another branch of Morris Creative Services, Inc.

Slippin', slippin', slippin'...

My son is getting so big! Our recent ultrasound gave us a pretty good view of him, although not much in the way of 3D stuff, yet. The video below may not work on a dial-up connection, but if you're on broadband, it should stream smoothly.



Once in a while the picture gets really shaky... that's when Emily is laughing. It was a funny, tearful experience - one we can't wait to do again in a couple of weeks. Isn't it cool that technology allows you to "visit" your baby before he's even born?

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My blogiversary just passed, and I didn't even realize it! (ain't it just like a man?)

Three days ago, my blog turned THREE years old. I don't post as often as I used to, but it works for me. Free time is a rare commodity... especially now, when we're preparing for April and the new baby.

As of today this mundane, dusty little corner of the universe is closing in on 200,000 hits, which never ceases to amaze me. WTF?

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We went to an exhibition called Body Worlds 3 last night. It's a display of actual, dead human bodies that have been preserved and posed using a process called plastination. You are literally looking at real human flesh, bones, tendons, and other body parts. The photo to the left is an example, and eerily, the cadaver is holding up the skins of several actual people.

First, I should say it's very inspiring and educational, but I must admit to feeling a little uneasy. These are real people, dissected in various ways to show how the human body works. Here are a few pictures of the cadavers on exhibition. (click the links, they are really fascinating)

It's difficult to describe my feelings as I wandered through this exhibition, but I'd say fascination, sadness, elation, a little irreverence, some fear, and a deep realization of my own mortality. It was extremely impactful. I'm a pretty emotional person anyway, but this experience is one I will never forget.

I'll take "things that are ridiculous" for 200, Alex

Part 1:

There is a website that can predict the approximate year of your death. Or, spinning it in a more positive way, predict the length of your life. Yeah, that sounds better.

I should point out that I don't really think it's ridiculous, but since the title of my post is "things that are ridiculous..." I'm going to ask you to go with it.

According to the website, (found at Steve Mays' blog) my current "real age" is 32. (they say 40 is the new 30, right?) You get huge points for having family who live longer than average, for not smoking, and for eating breakfast. Also factored in, family disease history, etc. It says I should live to be 86 before I croak. Today, I am exactly half that.

It's all downhill from here.

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Part 2:

A British woman is apparently being held in Sudan, and may soon be whipped by the Sudanese government, for naming her teddy bear "Mohammed."

It gives you new respect for the freedoms we have in the US, doesn't it? In fact, as a result of that freedom, guess what I've just named my penis.*

Screw you, Sudan. (and we're at war with IRAQ??????)

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Part 3:

Credit card companies have now resorted to making people feel foolish for using cash.

Have you seen the latest Visa television campaign? Swipe... cool. Swipe... party! Swipe, HAPPY!!! Cash... everything grinds... to... a... halt. (and the cash person looks like a real loser)

It's obvious Americans are facing a reality check right now. They've spent themselves into debt, mortgaged themselves into a corner, and have been forced to slow the use of credit cards as a result. Citigroup has announced huge layoffs, written off billions from sub-prime mortgage losses, and stock analysts are recommending their clients sell C.

So we get to see how cool it is to use your credit card. (youtube examples of the commercials)

*Slappy Johnson, but I'll bet you thought Muhammed, right?

Thankful

As Thanksgiving 2007 comes to a close, the dog and cat are at my feet, my lovely Emily is in the next room reading, Christmas carols are playing, and I am sitting in my kitchen with a cup of tea and a wandering mind.

I just had a particularly nice chat with my daughter. We told each other the stories of the day and talked about when we'd see each other next. I held Em's tummy and bonded with my little Sparky for a while, and I wrote a note to my Mom. I told her how horribly I missed her today.

Last night Em and I spent time with our friends, Mike and Paula. She made a fabulous dish and we had great conversation. I plucked around on one of Mike's guitars for a while (I can't play at all) and we played a few rounds of "Scene It." They gave us a teething toy for the baby. Friends like that are hard to find.

Today we went to Em's Grandmother's house. We had the usual Thanksgiving fare, played a few games, and lit a candelabra floral arrangement on fire. It was a very memorable day.

I spent a lot of time today in thoughtful reflection. I thought of the many people who have been in and out of my life over the years. Bosses, friends, co-workers, loves... I hope they are all well and happy.

I thought for a while about those who have passed on. I miss my Grandparents and their influence so much. I had a little pumpkin pie in honor of my Grandfather, who was quite the dessert lover. I thought of my friend Adrianne and her son Truman. My Grandma Varty, Aunt Mildred and Uncle Ed all crossed my mind today, as well... all people without whom life isn't the same.

I thought of my friends, and pondered what they were doing today. Gary probably spent the day at his Mother's house. His Father died recently, so I'm sure his day was bittersweet. I thought about him a lot today. I am guessing Ron spent the day with his Mother, wife and their son Preston, who was born almost a year ago. As for the rest of my friends, they were probably flung far and wide, on various ends of town and the Earth. They all snuck in and out of my thoughts today.

Thanksgiving may be my favorite holiday. I spend 364 days a year taking everything for granted. Then along comes this one, wonderful day that reminds me of all the things for which I am so incredibly grateful.

Dick & Jane

I'm not sure if there is a more culturally influential or familiar book series than Dick & Jane. From the 1930's through the 70's, Dick & Jane were probably the most popular children's book characters in the world. And why not? I mean, come on... the kid's name is Dick. We had all kinds of fun with these two. If you were old enough to make Barbie and Ken do dirty stuff, you probably changed the words of the D & J books.

Once at a trivia night, someone told me that no two-syllable words appear in the book series. I've since learned that's not true, there are several two-syllable words, like "Mother," "Father," and "oral."* I think it would have been more fun if there were a syllable restriction.

Just for fun, I thought it would be a timely exercise (considering Violet and I are having a baby boy in April) to have Dave's Window readers write our own version of Dick & Jane. Write a paragraph and post it under "comments," and let's see how the story evolves. Write whatever you'd like, just make sure it flows with the previous paragraph. Don't worry, I promise I won't let Sparky see this until he turns 18.

I'll start it out:

See Dick and Jane. They are playing in the back yard. Spot and Puff are chasing each other in the sand box. "Look, Dick," said Jane. "There is something behind the fence. What could it be?"

It's your turn.

*Okay, so "oral" only appears in my perverted versions of the book, but whatever.

And the results are...

It's a boy!


Looking a bit skeletal - since that's mostly what the ultrasound "sees." We can now start shopping for gender-specific stuff. Proud as I can be, happy and loving life.

Our boys

Not enough is said about the effort of our people in uniform. 2007 has been the deadliest year yet in the Iraq war, not to mention those who are serving in Afghanistan and other places around the world.

Agree with the war in Iraq or not, the people who are serving are heroic. They lay themselves on the line every day... and as we approach Veteran's Day, this video brings it all home. If you are currently serving, or you've served before - thanks.

"Computers are our friends"

Repeat that phrase 20,000 times, so you will be convinced. "Computers are our friends."

I spent the entire weekend setting up a new computer in my office, which replaced an old one that bit dust this week.

I have two pieces of advice for anyone who deals with computers, which obviously means you.

First, never... never ever ever never ever ever trust your valuable photos and data to an outboard USB hard drive. I've been burned twice in the past year... most recently, tonight when I plugged in the drive that contains (er, contained) our entire library of photographs.

Dark power button. Nothing.

Fuck.

The second piece of advice is never, never, ever trust your valuable photos and data to an INBOARD hard drive.

Basically, don't trust a computer to safely store anything. Do yourself a favor, and burn them to DVD. It will save you from patching drywall holes and paying major money to the Geek Squad to retrieve your data.

Which is where I will be going tomorrow.

Apply directly to the forehead

If you're a consumer who has actually purchased the product Head On, you deserve a headache.

No offense, of course. It's not like you're stupid or anything, it's just... no wait. Yeah, it is like you're stupid.

Ironically the head-bone is the reason that using Head On is a bone-headed idea. If you apply it to your forehead, there is a huge barrier between the medicine and the pain... it's called the skull. Ironically, using Head On makes you a real numb-skull.

Ah, so much irony in such a stupid product.

The funniest line of the commercial (besides the annoying "apply directly to the forehead" crap) is "no prescription necessary."

No shit? Look, if your doctor tries to give you a prescription for this product, you should open your network provider booklet immediately.

End rant.

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I was listening to a song from Buffett's album "Barometer Soup" this morning. Is it just me, or do the words "barometer soup" give you wanderlust?

I love the fact that Em and I have a baby on the way. I can't wait. But it's bittersweet because I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm 43, and have lost the ability to do some of the things I've always wanted to do.

Such as selling all my stuff (except a few pieces of equipment I'd need to do my job) and hopping a plane to Mexico to live on the beach for a year or two. A sunset every night, low rent, a blender with a limitless supply of limes and tequila, a hammock strung between two palm trees. I'd stroll inside a few times a day to do voiceover sessions, then spend the rest of my time swimming in the ocean, making friends with the locals and relaxing with my best friend.

Another dream was to live in Manhattan for a year. I love the bustle of the city. I love the food, the atmosphere, the lifestyle. I could store my vehicles in a warehouse and rent an apartment on the lower west side. I'd go to the diner on the corner every morning for breakfast, (a la Seinfeld) catch some shows on Broadway, hit all the museums, walk in Central Park...

I always wanted to live in a cabin about 9,000 feet high in the Rocky Mountains. I love the idea of spending a couple of quiet years writing, with a snow-covered mountain view for inspiration. I'd keep a fire burning almost constantly, and drive my Hummer into town during a snowstorm for supplies.

I wanted to live in France for a year or two, in a chalet somewhere in the Champagne province, among the rolling hills. From there I would take weekend trips to Normandy, Paris and the Riviera. I'd drink fine French wines, sleep in every morning and maybe invest in a winery.

Among all of it, I wanted to travel to Australia to hike the Outback (the steakhouse is a poor substitute) and experience a concert at the Sydney Opera House. I wanted to see the pyramids in Egypt. I wanted to camp in Yellowstone.

Plans change. Life's strange that way. Some of these things Em and I can still do, but much of it is permanently "on hold."

And it's all worth it.

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I forgot to mention that our friend Mikey and I won a contest for funniest Halloween costume!

We dressed up like the guys from the "dick in a box" video. (click the link, if you've never seen it - it's hilarious)


The costumes involved quite a bit of preparation. We actually put fake "junk" in the boxes and equipped them with a hinge mechanism so people could open them and peek inside.

Purchasing our rubber "junk" was quite an experience. Let me give you some advice: if you ever go into a dildo shop with another dude looking to buy something, take along a female chaperone. Thanks again, Violet.

To save money, we purchased a huge double-dong and cut it in "half." My part was about 1.5 inches long, and Mikey took the rest. (about 12 inches) We attached them to the inside of the box with drywall screws and adhesive. It's funny how women enjoyed looking in HIS box more than MINE! I thought size didn't matter.


Violet was a pregnant trailer-trash chick with a missing tooth, a pack of Virginia Slims and a Milwaukee's Best Light "tall boy." And still, quite hot.


After our victorious result, we're already working on next year's costume. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

Your standard pan, you know, cake

Saturday morning. Nice day. Good night of sleep. I decided I would make the lovely Violet a pancake breakfast, which was to consist of pancakes. (I realize using the term "breakfast" may be misleading - it sounds like there were side dishes, OJ, etc. Nope, just the cakes.)

So I pulled out the pancake mix and began the preparation. It wasn't long before I realized it wasn't your standard pancake mix, it was something quite alien. By alien, I mean it was the manual mix.

Damn. I hate the manual mix. If a recipe requires more than adding water, I'm lost.

No worries, I thought. I can do this.

So I pulled out the other ingredients - oil, eggs, milk. I stood gazing at the recipe for about ten minutes, trying to reduce the "8 to 11 cakes" down to four. Finally, I decided, screw it! I didn't need this Jemima bitch telling me what to do. I tossed in a couple of eggs, a drip of oil, then mixed in milk until it was the consistency of... something that would be, you know, a similar consistency to pancake batter.

Apparently it wasn't thick enough, because when I put it on the griddle, the cakes immediately ran together. I tried using the spatula as a batter-dam for a while, but gave up when it oozed around the edges and made contact anyway. "Just let the bastards cook," I said to myself, "and see how they come out."

Then I began to experience cake-flip anxiety. Will they flip cleanly? Will there be side-slippage? Overlap? Will the color be consistent? I broke a sweat.

By that time, not only had they run together, but also in the other direction, all the way to the lip of the griddle. So I would have to flip them with a sort of diagonal gesture, a fluid motion. This would require a level of grace I'm simply not known for.

Upon flipping the first one, all of my fears were realized. Slippage, overlap, burn. Half of the first cake flipped off the edge of the griddle, the other half went on top of the second cake. Long story short, I had to abort the entire first batch of cakes.

Luckily, the kitchen sink was directly behind me so at least THAT motion was graceful. I cursed the stove manufacturer, the rough edge of the spatula and whoever invented the dish. Sir Richard "Flap" Jackson, if I'm not mistaken.

Upon beginning anew with a fresh, clean griddle, I applied the batter, only less this time. Suddenly, I realized I had started without allowing proper warming time.

The new, smaller pancakes ran like a mother.

This time I was able to salvage them by turning the burner to the "spot weld" setting for about two minutes. It froze the cakes in their tracks and restored my smile. Which, at this point, had become more of a smirk. I was ten seconds from hitting the McDonalds drive-thru.

Anyway, the second batch worked. They weren't great, but at least edible. Em dutifully consumed the cakes with a smile. Maybe more of a smirk.


I snapped this picture of the aftermath. Some of the mess is visible, but it's not a perfect representation of "pancake ground-zero." Note that the cake is quite well done. That's from the "spot weld" maneuver. Also note the clear signs of side-slippage.

10 signs we should have seen that Dumbledore was gay

These days, it's chic to be a can-diver. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

The new social trend is the "coming out," and actors, neighbors and even spouses are doing it. And that's great - if you're gay, you might as well live an open, happy life. (unless of course you're in the military)

But now it's chic for even fictional characters to be gay, as J. K. Rowling has brought her Harry Potter character, Dumbledore, out of the closet.

I hope she gave him time to tell his parents first.

Yes, Dumbledore is a donut puncher, and children everywhere will be thumbing through their books ravenously, looking for signs. Sort of like the first time you leave a ten-year-old alone with a dictionary. The first word they look up is "vagina." He he he he he!!!

We should have seen this coming all along. I've not even read the Potter series, yet I had my suspicions. So I've compiled a list of signs we all should have seen that Dumbledore was a "confirmed bachelor:"

1 - All those "layovers" in the Minneapolis airport.
2 - First name? Albus.
3 - His title was Wizard, but they all called him Queen.
4 - He was the "headmaster" at the school of wizardry David Copperfield attended. (allegedly)
5 - In the movie series, he was first played by Richard Harris. HELLO?!?
6 - He always tried to show Harry what he called "the headmaster's log."
7 - He always tried to get Harry to touch his "magic wand."
8 - Middle name? Percival.
9 - That whole stint working part time at Deb.
10 - Griselda Marchbanks, Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, remarked that the young Dumbledore had "...done things with a wand I'd never seen before."

I spent my entire breakfast writing this. Note to self: Find a hobby.

Wii, the people

Emily, regarding whether we should order dessert last night: "The baby wants some, I can't help it."

Emily, explaining how she knows: "Have YOU ever had a child? It told me telepathically, through the umbilical cord."

I wanted to make a record of those quotes, I'm sure we'll want to reference them at a later date.

This probably won't be the last time the baby will be used to get her way... in fact, I'll bet it's the BABY that doesn't want me to have a Wii. It already has Dad wrapped around its little finger. Apparently, telepathically.

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Speaking of dessert, it was only yesterday that I divulged (on Annie's blog) that Em and I are vowing to eat at home for 30 days. Just for a change of pace, we're preparing menus, power-grocery-shopping, etc. in order to prepare each evening's meal ourselves.

About six hours after I told Annie of our "dine-at-home" plans, we were sitting in Bristol's restaurant browsing a menu.

It's not that we're weak. Em found out late yesterday afternoon that her classes had been canceled for the week. Since she isn't usually home Monday nights, we hadn't planned dinner.

At least that's the excuse we're going with.

Monday night is my "night out" when I generally watch Monday Night Football on TV at a bar somewhere and have beer and a salad. Spending it with Em was MUCH more fun... although there was nothing on television except football.

We could have played the Wii, I guess...

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This little piggy said "wii, wii, wii..." all the way home.

Heyday

Technology is a reckless, take-no-prisoners force, relentlessly moving forward in fits and starts. Unstoppable. Sort of like Rosie O'Donnell at Old Country Buffet.

As I was eating cereal and listening to Dwight Yoakam's version of Wichita Lineman this morning, it occurred to me that as technology progresses, there will eventually be no more linemen. Granted, it will take a while, but within my lifetime, cellular and wireless will replace the need for phone lines. Underground power lines will carry electricity to houses, and, with rare exceptions, they are nearly maintenance-free.

The linemen are a disappearing breed.

Few images are as stirring as a view down a long, straight highway, with lines and poles running alongside, heat causing the mirage of puddles of water... until the curve of the earth takes it all over the horizon. Those lines have carried generations of telephone conversations, power for bedside lamps, and television signals.

I feel a little misty. While some consider them eyesores, there is something nostalgic about them. And the lineman is sort of a heroic figure, sometimes.

From vinyl records, to drive-in theaters and VCRs, technology is leaving quite a path of destruction. Movie rental stores are succumbing to pay-per-view, malls are giving way to online shopping. Most board games come on DVD now.

Not that I'm anti-technology, I am quite the eager consumer. My home is a monument to the electronics industry. My cars have all the latest gadgets. Heck, I used to have a car with a refrigerator in the back seat.

But I miss the old stuff sometimes. I wouldn't want to have to drive on hilly, narrow, curvy Route 66. But I sure wish I still could if I wanted. And all along it, there were telephone lines, and linemen keeping them in working order.

Where will all the birds sit?

I'll bet you can think of other cultural icons that will soon be going away.

Insurance sucks. Wii rules. Did I mention insurance sucks?

I knew I disliked living in this area for SOME reason... (no offense to minivan owners, it's just a thing for me)


This confirms why. Fuzzy picture because I had to snap a pic from the television.

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Honesty is not the best "policy."

When applying for health insurance, do yourself a favor, if you don't already - lie about everything. Pre-existing conditions, pending babies, recent colds... everything.

Recently, when filling out an application for individual insurance, I (mistakenly) answered the questions honestly. I admitted we were having a baby.

Apparently in Missouri, when an insured person has a child, their insurance company is required by law to cover the baby from birth to a certain age. Therefore, if they approved my application, they might be liable if we have any kind of problems with the baby.

They declined me in SPITE of the fact that we're insuring the baby through Em's work insurance.

Fucking blood-sucking bastards. Anthem Blue Cross/Blue Shield is the culprit, but I'm sure it doesn't matter WHO you apply with. They are all the same, sadly.

For the moment, I am without health insurance. Oh, and if you ever WANT health insurance, do yourself the favor and DON'T call anyone at the Brooke Insurance & Financial Services agency. They are a waste of time.

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Life is GREAT right now! Things are coming together around the house, Em is ever-so-slightly showing, which makes her even more beautiful, and I'm almost caught up with paperwork and stuff in my office.

We're starting to put money away for the baby and wedding, so Emily is insisting I DON'T buy a Nintendo Wii. But the more I play with Dr. Mike's Wii (that didn't sound right) the more I think I will sneak to Best Buy early one morning and grab one.

Yeah that's what I said.*

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I'm about to kick off the weekend. First, I will go to McGurk's outside patio and have 2 martinis and an order of wings or rings. (or lings, if you're asian) Then I plan to relax a lot this weekend, probably watch some television, maybe go on a bike ride. Weather will be perfect, 78 degrees both days.

Have a great one.

*of course I will have to deal with Em's wrath, but hey, I'm 40-something. I do what I want.

Sparky

It is a frustrating combination to be a credit card user and a resident of a town with an apostrophe in its name.

To complete an order on the internet, usually you must provide the billing address for the card you're using. I live in O'Fallon, and sometimes the card companies use the apostrophe, sometimes they don't. It's a bitch trying to remember which card is which, so tonight I decided to give up.

I think I will start paying for everything with live chickens, like back in the day. Unleaded gas, three and 9/10 live chickens. A Bud Light 20-pack, fifteen live chickens.

I wonder, could you pay at KFC with live chickens? Would the ratio be 1:1?

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I sat at the bar at Chili's tonight watching Monday Night Football and eating salad. This has become my Monday night routine.

The bartender had an obnoxious habit of calling me "partner," "bud," and "champ." I tipped him one percent less with every nick-name infraction. He ended up at something around seven percent by the time I finished my food. "Thanks, zippy."

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We're getting extremely excited about the arrival of the baby. Every time Em talks to her mom, she asks if we know the sex of the baby yet. Every time, Em reminds her we'll find out right around Thanksgiving.

The funny thing is, she will be present when we find out, or will be the first person Em calls.

Speaking of the baby, mommy has had a few instances where she thought, just MAYBE, she felt the baby move. They all turned out to be gas bubbles.

Apparently we're going to have a cute little fart.

Oh, and until we decide on a name, the baby's official nickname is Sparky.

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Why do I keep getting drawn into political debates? The world is wound so tightly right now, nobody gives an inch. No compromise. No shades of grey. Each side is practicing the ready dispensation of lies, half-truths and bullshit. Mostly bullshit.

To me, arguing politics is like lighting a fart. Just because it burns doesn't mean you can read a book by it.*

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I'm sick of the buzzword "terrorist." It's so overused, it has become a synonym for bad guy. Ahmadinejad is a terrorist. Hugo Chavez is a terrorist. Fidel Castro and Kim Jong Il are terrorists.

They certainly don't instill terror in me... they're just bad guys. And they probably all smell funny.

But as tired buzzwords go, "terrorist" is the mack daddy of the 21st century so far.

Other buzz phrases or words I'm finished with:

• Pull the trigger
• Synergy
• Mission critical
• Paradigm
• You're doing a good job, Brownie
• Outside the box
• Peel the onion
• Test the waters
• Big picture
• Outsource
• Forward thinking
• Evil-doers
• (anything) 2.0
• Execution
• Cluster

That's all I can think of right now.

Conversely, one of my favorite new buzz phrases is, "Don't taze me bro!"

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* I can read that line one time and it sounds brilliant. The next time, it hardly makes sense. So my advice to you is to read it until it makes sense, then look away.

The War

As I wind up the weekend, I am sitting down to watch another installment of The War on PBS. After watching the first 2-hour segment, I just sat in the dark for a while, thinking.

This is an amazing documentary which focuses on the people, the heroes, of WWII... those Tom Brokaw called the "greatest generation." I am positive I wouldn't be here today without the sacrifices made by these people.

There aren't enough Veterans or Memorial Days.

Tonight I'm watching segment two. The whole experience is very moving.

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My daughter made a rare appearance at the house this weekend. She came to town Friday night and left this evening. It was a nice visit. She definitely has some issues in her life, and continues to struggle to get a handle on them. I'm doing all I can, but at this point, she will have to decide when she is ready to make some changes.

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We went to the Botanical Gardens today, and although I had to leave early, it was a great day to get outside. I had to sweat out some of the wine consumed at the Oktoberfest celebration in Hermann, MO, yesterday.

One of the many blessings of fatherhood is having a nine-month designated driver.

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My friend Mike and I are talking about playing hookie Thursday and doing something outside. The hot weather is supposed to break Tuesday, and it will finally feel like autumn. I think August lasted three months.

One 35-year-old guy died and hundreds of people had to be treated for heat-related illnesses today in Chicago during a marathon. Heat-related illnesses in October??? Where are we, Death Valley?

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Kramer the cat is staring at me, wondering when I'm going to hit the 'play' button on the Tivo. He is really into The War, too. Talk to you guys this week. I will start blogging more often. I mean it this time.