34

A couple of weeks ago, my wife purchased for me a new shirt and some shorts for my birthday. When I opened the box containing the shorts, she said, "I think they're your size (34), but they look big."

Sigh...

Now, I have no illusions that I've maintained my pre-marriage weight. I mean, who can with all the dining out that today's lifestyle almost requires; not to mention all the junk we have lying around the house for the kids. And oh Lord, but I love cheese!

In an attempt at balancing out my slovenly lifestyle, I also work out approximately 4-5 times per week in addition to any yardwork I do in the interim, so ultimately, I blame my mom's genes for my sluggish metabolism. And I can't expect umpteen cups of coffee to keep me ramped up when faced with 8 hours of office-cubicle chair sitting.

But it's a wake-up call when your wife, very innocently, says you look fat. So here I am today eating protein shakes and fruit, while just trying to make it through the day without gassing the place out. (did I say that out loud?)

Coincidentally, or not, I also turned 34 this year and I sincerely hope this doesn't become a new trend. When I'm sixty, I'd rather not have a similarly numbered waist size.

Kids: 40 years from now when you find this blog somewhere and you read it, don't think of your old dad as a narcissistic schmutz. Just remember that once, I too aspired for underwear model greatness.

Tummy Time

For nigh on two months now, our youngest son has enjoyed sleeping in his crib, on his stomach.

GASP!

Reason: When he was colicky, not even the beloved Fisher Price Swing would calm him down, but sleeping on his tummy did. Hey, you put up with a screaming kid for two months and see what levels of unbelievable irresponsibility you'll sink to. From my viewpoint, sleeping on his tummy is a minor transgression.

I know, I know, we're terrible parents, what with the risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) and all. Let me stress here that he has been able to hold his head up by himself the whole time and we never cover him with a blanket any higher than to his waist. So there's very little chance he'll suffocate in any way, shape or form.

Yesterday, he started daycare and they made it very clear that they "could not/would not" put him on his stomach to sleep. My wife said, "OK, but he's gonna cry."

And he did. However, when my wife checked on him during her lunch break, he was on his tummy sound asleep. This morning though, we were told that they got in trouble yesterday (State Law: and who the hell tattled anyway?) and that if we wanted them to continue to put him on his tummy we'd need a Dr's note.

Really? Is this the level of government intervention we've fallen to? What happened to letting the parent decide what is best for his or her child? No, I'm not niaive. I know that parents have been subjected to the whims of the state for years (vaccinations, spankings, etc) but telling me how my child can and cannot sleep is a little over the top.

But really, let's look at the reasons for this Law. Here are some quotes regarding SIDS:

• "Exactly why SIDS occurs remains elusive." Mayo Clinic
• "Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) is the sudden death of an infant under 1 year of age which remains unexplained after a thorough case investigation..." SidsCenter.org

So I think we can all agree that we don't know for sure why SIDS occurs. However, to be fair, statistics also say that since the whole "Back To Sleep" campaign started, SIDS rates have declined by 38%.

But still, the "guesses" as to why SIDS occurs include everything from Electromagnetic fields, to pet dander, to vaccinations. In fact, studies show that vaccines are overwhelmingly the #1 choice for the cause of SIDS:

" A study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association found that children diagnosed with asthma (a respiratory ailment not unlike SIDS) were five times more likely than not to have received pertussis vaccine.(1) Another study found that babies die at a rate eight times greater than normal within three days after getting a DPT shot.(2) The three primary doses of DPT are given at two months, four months, and six months. About 85 percent of SIDS cases occur at one through six months, with the peak incidence at age two to four months." ThinkTwice.com

Bottom line: While I'm sensitive to the argument that sleeping on the tummy increases the chance of SIDS, I also subscribe to the theories that there is generally an underlying problem that causes SIDS and that sleeping on the tummy is not the cause.

Really, I'm more ticked about the government's involvement. From seatbelts to my child's sleeping patterns, they're overstepping their bounds.

Oh to be loved...

Dads hold special places in the hearts of their children, or so I like to believe. Being the disciplinarian in our family, I understand why my "eldest" typically prefers mom, over dad, for most playtime activities, and generally for anything else whenever we are both around. Which I'm fine with. I grew up an only child for the most part, so my imagination skills are somewhat lacking (when I was a kid, my idea of "fun" by myself was putting on old 45 records of "Jerry Clower" and reciting the jokes along with him); plus I get restless sitting on the floor moving little Thomas the Tank Engine wooden trains around the tracks for an hour. Call me crazy.

Last night was not unlike any other night. I cooked dinner (breakfast food, yum!) and my wife and I sat down with the baby at the table and my eldest son, who hasn't pooped in like 4 days, decided he didn't care to join us, yet again. I, attempting to bring back the "family" in "family dinner" told my son to come to the table and sit with us even if he didn't want to eat--"Dammit!" (OK, I didn't actually say the word, but my tone pretty much did)

Eldest Son, "NO! I want you to go to work."

Whaddya gonna do? I finally got him to the table under threat of both a spanking (Gasp! Yes, folks, I DO spank my children), and at the risk of his losing a happy face, which means that getting that new train he's been wanting has to wait yet another day until some random point in the future.

After dinner, I went out to water plants. My wife comes out the door, then my son and she says, "What were you going to tell daddy?"
Son: "I'm sowwy daddy for huwting yow feewings."

How can you stay mad at that? I know, I know, SUCKER!

Guilty as charged.

Temporary Insanity

If we're all truthful with ourselves (and the Internet), there are times, as a parent, when you question your ability to follow through. When the baby has been crying non-stop for hours, or, it's waaay past any sane person's bedtime and the baby is still going strong, while you're little more than a walking zombie, I would imagine most of us empathize (if not sympathize) with these parents who flip out and do something unspeakable to their children. I truly believe that in those times, parents do temporarily go out of their mind. And I don't mean that in a glib sort of way. I mean that in the most medically-relevant way possible. No loving parent would ever willingly do something bad to their children, but it takes patience of almost god-like proportions to remain calm and nurturing when the baby is at its worst.

That was me last night.

After having been up for nearly 5 hours with no nap, our little "angel" had gone to sleep numerous times, only to wake up the second you tried to put him down. I'd give him a bottle, and he'd suck on it with enough force to unclog a straw clogged with cheese grits--all the while grunting and breathing as if he'd just run a 10K marathon.

I was to the point of trying to find ear plugs so I didn't have to listen to the grunting. I mean, I've heard of baby's crying and it driving parents crazy, but just their breathing? What's wrong with me when that noise makes me want to see if I can put my hand clean through the sheetrock AND the stud it's attached to?

Luckily, there are two of us and I finally passed him off around 9 p.m. where he struggled for more than an hour more with my wife before succumbing to exhaustion.

Something's gotta give. My prayer, "Dear God, after putting up with colic for nearly 3 months before you gave us a smile to hang onto, please make him want to go to bed by 8, so I can feel like a normal human being again. Thanks.!"

MSNBC "My Snobby News Broadcasting Company"

Having a pickup truck, I realize that I use more gasoline than I need to. However, when one considers how much money I save each year in delivery charges for all the stuff that I haul in my truck (mulch, lumber, plants, etc.) I more than make up for it. This also means that a pickup truck is a necessity for me. Is it what I would choose had it my way? No. I’d have a passenger car so that I’d room for myself, my junk and my two kids’ car-seats.

That’s why news stories like those run on MSNBC, titled, “Gas Price Woes” tick me off so much. In this video, a reporter interviews people on the street about their gas usage. Now, I’m sure they handpicked which interviews to include, therefore it is both a politically- correct spot, including both white-bread and minority Americans, and a spot that covers all intelligence levels.

For complete coverage, there is the cab-driver, who barely speaks any English, claiming that all oil “sucks.” There is the lucid soccer-mom defending her SUV by saying that with two kids, she needs a larger automobile just to be able to take them and a friend anywhere (because remember, you can’t put children under 85lbs in a front seat). And finally, there is the attractive minority figure exhaulting public transportation.

The kicker though, is the ending where the report first shows two people side-by-side—one biking, the other roller-blading—and the reporter can be heard saying, “Soaring gas prices have some people considering alternative methods of transportation, but others…just don’t seem to care.”

As a writer, I know that anything you say in a story should relate back to the material referenced within the story. Given that, the reporter must be referring to the callous soccer mom who refuses to sell her mini-van so that she can pay $5K more for a “green” SUV that, when you consider any loss she takes on her current vehicle, plus the additional cost of the new vehicle, “might” pay for itself after 3-4 years.

Or perhaps she’s talking about the millions of Americans who do not live in New York or some other major metropolis where riding the subway to work is an accepted way of life. Excuse me for wanting to live in the relative quiet of the suburbs, which also means that in order to get to my office, I have to drive for 30-40 minutes.

Ms. Reporter, it’s not that people don’t care, we don’t have a choice. If we all went out and tried to sell our SUVs today, it would tank the market and nobody would get anything out of it to put forward on a new vehicle. Sure, it’d be great for the auto-makers, but not so hot for the consumer. I guess I could stop going to the grocery store, or maybe I could just quit work and sponge off the government. Nah, that won’t work either. Oh, I know, let’s stop driving to church and quit going to shopping malls where our hard-earned dollars help keep the economy going.

Truly, the ignorance in this country is astounding. And the media are as liberally biased as they ever were. The sad thing is, America has the resources within our own soil to fix this problem, albeit temporarily (for like 150 years in the future), but every time we make a real attempt at tapping into it, the oil barons lower crude oil prices to a point where Shale oil production can't compete. Then, once all Shale technology development and production has stopped, guess what? Yep, crude oil prices skyrocket again.


Couple that with America being too afraid of alienating our foreign friends to do anything about OPEC's monopoly and we get what we've gotten. It makes me sick, it really does.


I weep for my children’s future, and I apologize for the legacy we’re leaving them.

Post-PGA Postulates

As you know from my earlier blog, I snagged tickets to this past weekend's AT&T Classic at nearby Sugarloaf Country Club in Duluth, GA. For many and various reasons, no really big names played this weekend. There were no Tiger's, no Mickelsons. Arguably the biggest name there was recent Master's winner Zach Johnson who went on to win. It's a funny thing about these PGA events. I understand that the players schedule which ones they'll play months in advance, and they must pay a fee to do so. Even still, many don't show up to play. For instance, Phil Mickelson won last week, so he decided to skip this week. I can't say I blame him, but what gets me, are how the other player's respond.

Now me, if I'm really good at golf, but there are one or two people better than me, and one (or both) of those people are skipping an event, I'm damn-sure gonna show up and play. I mean, if I'm playing against a field of people that I can beat 3 out of 4 days in a week, you can bet it's worth it to me. And the AT&T Classic winner was walking away with nearly $1 million, so it's not like it was a low-paying gig either.

But anyway, my hats off to the organizers. We arrived around 11:30 and immediately got on a bus and was shuttled to a drop-off point near the 17th fairway. Crowds were manageble along the course due to the sheer length of the thing. I mean, with several thousands yards of golf course and a couple of thousand bench seats, crowd control was pretty easy.

We walked back and forth from the 15th-17th greens, and finally ended up at the 18th late in the afternoon where the real circus was going on. Between the corporate sponsors and their bar-b-que's and open bars, and the under-18 entitlement crowd and their trust-fund parents living it up, there wasn't much room to do much but sit and bask in the glow of all that money.

We watched about four group drive down the 18th fairway, most opting to lay it up short rather than pitch it across the water and risk a penalty shot. There were some good moments on the green, but most seemed just glad to be off the course so that they could go grab a beer to wash down their Vicodin. Most were gracious enough to sign some autographs for the kids and that always warms my heart.

All in all it was a good day. Got there late, left there early and still home in time to help with the fussy baby. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday.

Silly "Box of Chocolates" metaphors

In a shameless attempt at generating visits, from anyone at all, to my Blog, today's posting center's around last night's episide of "The Office." Fans of the show will instantly know what I'm talking about, but for the unitiated; "The Office" is a tongue-in-cheek parody of office life for many of today's White-Collar workers. Complete with eccentric personalities and a complete lack of privacy, it works because its outrageousness is based in reality.

Last night's episode was the culmination of a season's worth of plotlines. Not the least of which was a new job at their corporate office in NY, that several office workers were interviewing for. In the end, (SPOILER!) the least likely candidate, and the one they didn't focus on at all, got the job. He is a recent MBA grad working as a sales rep, but who, in a year hasn't made a single sale. His only requisite experience being, apparently, his advanced degree.

This got me thinking...until a few years ago, I didn't have a degree and had been fairly successful in my career. I hit a wall though and realized one was necessary, and so went back and finished. But despite my having a degree now, there will always be a part of me that believes an education is a poor substitute for real experience. Which is why "The Office" is popular with a diverse range of people. The MBA-types will see the show and think, "With his education, he has potential and that's what really matters." The non-advanced degree types will likely say, "Yep, that's what usually happens. I work my butt off and look where it gets me."

Both are right of course, which means neither is REALLY right at all. The not-so-hidden message in last night's episode is that getting ahead in this world is never as cut and dried as you might think. You may be well-qualified and still not get the job. Timing has a lot to do with it too.

Which of course, brings me back to, well, um, ME. I'm not sure what I'll be doing at my current job in 2 months. Truthfully, none of us really do. I may be at a crossroads whereas in one direction, I can stick it out doing what I enjoy doing, all the while hoping that I get to keep doing it and that eventually doors will open. The other road leads to a possible new position doing very little of what I'm comfortable doing, but which would almost undoubtedly lead to more opportunities down the road.

What to do what to do?...

In some respects, each day is like the season finale of a tv show; full of resolved plotlines and possible new avenues of exploration. I just hope that I don't have to wait until next summer to see what happens next.

Little Victories

We recently were "blessed" with a little screaming, grunting, rooting, writhing "bundle of joy" in the form of a baby boy. My wife took approximately 2.5 months off to be with him, using a combination of disability leave and vacation. As all moms do, she fretted over having to put him in the nursery at our older son's daycare. There's nothing wrong with it really; it's small and it seems that anytime you go in there, there are 4-5 screaming youngin's. It's just not the calm, nurturing environment you want your children put in.

But, that's life.

But then, as mentioned in an earlier post, we found out how much the ladies at daycare are paid and we thought, "Hey, let's get a nanny." Great idea! (at first)

We embarked on a search for a nanny through various channels and here's what we found:

• friends don't wanna give up their sitter or nannies, so don't bother asking them for a good name
• online, so-called "Nanny reference services" run the gamut of everything from "fresh off the plane" foreign nannies, for which you pay a premium up front, but who are generally cheaper on the back-end because they live with you, to simple classified listings that are free for the nannies to post to, but for families looking for nannies, cost anywhere from $19.95 per month, to $200 per month.
• free classified ads like those found on Craigslist

The problem with paying for one of these online listings is that you're never really sure if the ads you can "preview for free" are real or not. So you may see some great listing, pay your money to access her contact information, only to find out (via e-mail) that "Oh shoot, I just accepted a position this past week."

Therefore, we went the Craigslist route and received many responses, most of which were college-age girls with horrid MySpace sites that intimated everything from drug and alcohol abuse, to an abhorrence to children. It was truly mind-boggling.

After I screened and contacted several potential nannies (yes, that's right "I", as in "Me and not my wife"), I showed them to my wife who just kindof hmm'd and haaa'd over a few, without showing much interest. See, apparently my wife's first reason for wanting a nanny was to make it easier for her to get out the door in the morning, but since she started getting up earlier, rather than at the last minute like she used to do, she's been able to get herself and the boys ready (with my help I might add) with a minimum of fuss. So, Reason #1 for a nanny...GONE!

Reason #2 for a Nanny became the whole daycare thing, and how it's just not a healthy environment for a newborn.

So, all this time that my wife has been back at work, we've had two different "nannies" helping us with the newborn during the day because we can't get him in daycare till June anyway. Both are very nice girls, but all they want to do is lounge around and watch TV. Our son, who is now 3 months old, gets almost no stimulation until we come home and take over (I work from home sometimes so I see what goes on during the day). As time has gone on, I've run this whole nanny business over and over in my head and come up with the following reasons why a nanny may not be ideal:

• while cost-effective now that we have two boys in daycare, when our oldest son starts pre-K and then kindergarten, and will NOT be in full-time daycare, it will not be cost-effective to have just one being cared for by a nanny
• given the complete laziness exhibited by both nannies thus far, I fear how little exercise and artistic activities our children will be given. Currently, our eldest son plays on the playground for almost 2 hours a day, and does at least two different craft activities, on top of learning Spanish (at 3 years old). I don't see a nanny doing all that
• external social interaction will be much less with a nanny

After nearly two weeks of almost no nanny searching by my wife, I recognized that it was time to bring up my points. I did it subtely one evening while watching TV, "So, what do you want to do about a nanny?"

Subtle huh?

Her reaction was much the same as it had been for the last two weeks at which point I finally laid out my reasons why I was now against it. She agreed, but still wouldn't commit to ending the search.

Another week went by and I've got three nannies awaiting a callback and finally I say, "So, are we done with the nanny idea?" Put on the spot she finally says, "Yes."

YES, YES! OH YEAH BABY, RIGHT THERE! JUST LIKE THAT!

GAME, SET, MATCH!

I'm done. No more postings on the Internet, no more searching Myspace and Google for e-mail addresses and names to see what inane postings by these women I can find. I'm done! Fini!

In retrospect, as a friend pointed out, I should have realized by her lack of desire to be the one looking for a nanny, that it had become a non-issue. A momma-bear who isn't taking the search for a surrogate caregiver firsthand, probably isn't really into the search anyway.

Had I let her do it, I could have saved myself a lot of time and hassle. Sometimes I'm really dense.

"GET IN THE HOLE!"

Last Friday, I tried to go golfing with some buddies, but work got in the way (damn work!). I was doing halfway decently too and then lost focus...but anyway, REDEMPTION IS NIGH, sayeth the Lord!

For Hark! My wife scored two tickets to Sunday's AT&T Classic in nearby Duluth Ga. And not just any tickets mind you, "Clubhouse Tickets," which, if I'm reading the right description, gets me "limited" access to the clubhouse where I can hobnob with those who had a sucky round and finished their day first, as well as 18th hole bleacher seats where I can cheer and cry with the winners and losers as they finish up for the week.

Alas, I cannot take my wife with me since we don't have grandparents who volunteer to watch the kids (evar!), so I'm "forced" to take my good buddy (whom I golf with) along for the ride. He too is saddened by my wife's inability to go (hee hee hee :)). However, this means I must forgo any personal time on Saturday and Sunday morning, since it means saddling her with the kids for a long Sunday afternoon. But dude, Totally Worth It!

There is no title for this blog...

There's a time-proven method of getting over writer's block, and that is to just start typing and see what goes from there. I'm doing that today because nothing of note happened since Mother's day. I suppose I could go on about Mother's day and all, but it too was fairly uneventful. I suppose I've always wondered about people who blog on a daily basis. How do they come up with that much material? OK, here's my last couple of days in a nutshell for those that are interested:

• Mother's day came and went with no special events. We had my wife's mom and dad over and I grilled sausage and chicken. There was cake, we shared wine and hugs. It was all good.
• Our neighborhood pool opened this weekened. Oh, see it worked! Now I have something to complain about :)

Moms...when you're at the pool with your children, especially those of you with young children, other parents who are also there with their children and who are actually IN THE WATER playing with their own children, don't want your children hanging all over them.

Our son met some kids at the neighborhood park over the summer. Two little girls and a boy. They were at the pool both times we were over the weekend. I, loving the pool, and wanting to get our 3-yr old used to the pool fairly quickly this summer, was in the water with him. This family's oldest daughter (of 5 years) would not stop crowding us and trying to get into what we were doing. She's a really cute little girl and I like her, but ENOUGH! And where's your mommy little girl? Oh, there she is, sitting up beside the pool, fully dressed, yapping away with her friend, not in the least bit interested in what her kids are doing.

Yes, I get it that we have a lifeguard, but if you aren't interested in watching your kids for safety's sake, at least keep them out of other people's hair.

It's really funny watching kids around the ages of 3-6, and I don't know if it's always been this way or just our society has forced little girls to become extroverts, but the boys appear to be the well-behaved ones and the little girls are these noisy, bossy little things that want all the attention. Truthfully, I always wanted a boy and a girl, but I have two boys and quite frankly, I think it'll be an easier road. We'll see.

Sure I'm lazy, but it's their DOG

We have two rather large dogs, and like all dogs, they LOVE to chase critters, of which we have a-plenty. This means that when any sort of critter is spied and takes to ground, digging ensues. However, sometimes digging ensues even without an obvious critter hole. Such was the case when I peered over my balcony and spotted a fresh hole near one of my sprinkler heads.

Also flapping around in the breeze were two old polaroid pictures and what appeared to be the corner of some kind of box jutting out of the freshly-pawed earth. My curiosity piqued, I walked down the steps and crouched over the pictures. The were of a middle-aged woman, lovingly hugging her Golden Retriever...

Uh huh, now you know what the box contained right? Yep, the apparently cremated remains of one much-loved Golden, contained within a hard plastic box wrapped up in a plastic bag with matching Polaroids.

Part of me wanted to say, "Ick!" and throw it away. After all, the thing was only buried like two inches underground, and very close, I might add, to my sprinkler pipe. The other part of me that likes dogs and understands the owner's intent, figures I should go bury the thing again.

For now, the box remains where I pulled it out of the ground. It seems pointless to bury it. After all, the previous owners will never know. But what if I don't, and my basement becomes haunted by the ghost of a Golden Retriever? That would be too weird.

Ma-widge. What bwings us togeva...

If the simple uttering of that phrase as quoted from "The Princess Bride" doesn't set you to chuckling this morning, well...don't expect this blog to either. Sorry.

Anyway, my wife and I have been married for going on 8 years now. Generally happy I might add. We have two children, a nice house, good jobs, yada yada yada.

We're over that whole "do everything together" crap that newlyweds cling to for many years and instead, we both jump at the chance to leave the other holding the bag...er...kids, in order to get out of the house to go do something fun. So, suffice it to say, we have no delusions about each other's need to be coddled. And that, I think, is as it should be.

However, despite our freedom around each other, there are still lines one should never cross. For instance, one should never say to his or her spouse, "You're a filthy pig." Or "My Lord, if I'd known you were like this before we married, I'd have called it off."

Now, I'm in no way inferring these are things I'd say to my spouse. No, things aren't like that, but there are certain bounderies one isn't allowed to cross no matter how intimate the relationship. They include, and this list is by no means a complete one:

• Their sexual acumen (the caveat here is that if the marriage is falling apart and this is the reason why; and then, this subject can only be broached at the behest of a highly-paid the-rapist.) (oh and yes, it IS indicative that I, as a man, would put this one first)
• The other's abilities as a mother or father
• The fact that your spouse does, in fact, perform #2 in the bathroom and that also, it in fact, does NOT smell like flowers.

Now, in addition to these completely off-limit subjects, there is a gray area of subjects that one should watch out for. Depending on your particular relationship, these will almost undoubtedly cause an argument, but are usually NOT show-stoppers:

• Your spouse's driving abilities
• Your spouse's language when he or she gets mad
• Your spouse's moodiness
• Your spouse's abilities around the house (cooking, cleaning, fixing things, etc.)

So, last night my wife and I went over to her parents house for a dual-birthday celebration. Now, if we're being honest, they'd throw a bash for my wife anyway, so the fact that my birthday is coming up and cannot be ignored is just dressing on the, um, cake so-to-speak.

Unfortunately, our youngest son (of 11 weeks) has been collicky for nigh on 8 weeks now and it appears to have peaked here recently, despite all the advice that it should be subsiding by now. He was already screaming his head off by 6 p.m. and despite my attempt at heading off what was sure to be a "fun night had by all with the screaming youngin'" my wife insisted that we ALL go to her folks since most everyone that lives locally (11 people) would be there.

Sure enough, the baby screamed all the way over and didn't stop all through dinner where a few of us took turns watching him. I went in and relieved everyone because I have a couple of tricks that usually work, as long as you're willing to put him right to bed afterwards. Since by this time it was 7:30 p.m. I got in the car, turned up the white noise on a blank radio station and took off for a drive. I was stopped in the driveway by my wife, who pleaded for me to come inside and "open presents."

Now, the part of me that at this point was really frustrated by the whole thing (and did I mention that her dad keeps the house at like 77 degrees, which for a screaming baby who is already hot, is REALLY HOT?), wanted to say something really nasty, but instead I said, "We are parents of a colicky baby, tough shit!" And drove off.

As I drove off, I reflected on my decision to say this and figured it would go one of two ways:

1. It would really piss her off that I cursed
OR
2. She would stop, realize that her first responsibility is to her child, and realize I'm right

Luckily, the baby stopped crying within 2 minutes of my little driving-radio trick and my wife does appear to have gotten the message. Yes, things were tense afterwards, but it could have been worse.

Sometimes I think, we all need a little kick-in-the-pants to reorient ourselves regarding our responsibilities in life. I know I do.

Those oh-so generic Toyota Camrys

The Toyota Camry. You see them every day. They've been around for years, changing little more than the hood on the front and the trunk and taillights on the back. But despite their never-changing look, people continue to buy them. These people are all alike. They drive the same. They are the bane of my morning commute. Here's what we know about the Toyota Camry:

• It's #3 on "Gaywheels.com" list of automobiles owned by our "alternative lifestyle" society.
• Camry's continue to make the Top 10 Most Stolen Vehicle List
• The Camry was the first non-domestic car to compete in NASCAR in recent years
• It is THE most popular car in America

Now, here's what I suspect about the Toyota Camry based on my own informal research study:

• The most popular color is Gold
• Only women drive them, unless a man's truck is in the shop and he's forced to go somewhere with his lady friend
• Drivers of Camrys really like their bumper stickers, vanity plates, and license plate frames
• They all drive a two-lane stretch of road near me between the minutes of 6:48-6:54 a.m.
• They all drive at least 5 mph less than the speed limit

There is a 4 mile stretch of 2-lane road that I travel on each morning going to work. The speed limit is 35MPH the entire way, and the middle of it includes a very steep valley, which, if you don't build up enough speed, requires you to hit your passing gear to climb out of if you're not going fast enough already. Each morning, despite varying my departure time by a few minutes in either direction, I inevitably get behind a Gold Toyota Camry. I have identified at least three different ones. My method of differentiation determination is as follows:

• They appear at various stretches of the road. Two at the very begnning, on about 1/3 of the way through
• They all have a different tag number (satisified?)

The interesting thing is, that despite their differences, they share some staggering driving similarities, mainly that of driving VERY slowly, and completely ignoring the rather large-grilled pickup truck on their tail urging them onward. And it's not like they see me there and I upset them to the point that they obstinately refuse to speed up...they just don't care. When I do inevitably pass them at the traffic light, they are middle-aged working women staring blankly off into space pondering Lord-knows-what--that hair appt. they need to make; what to put in the Crock Pot tomorrow before leaving for work--I don't know!

I've tried to avoid them, but I think they have hacked into the Sirius satellite orbiting the planet and have triangulated my location through my sattelite radio receiver and act accordingly in order to foil my attempts at a frustration-free drive in the morning.

Or...I could be just completely unlucky (and paranoid). YOU make the call!

Sound off Like You've Got a Pair!

In the age of the computer, no college “Communications” class would be complete without a lesson in e-mail etiquette. Here, youngsters learn things like:

• Don’t type IN ALL CAPS unless you want the reader to think you are yelling
• Be concise, because nobody wants to read your rambling comments
• Don’t over-use the high-priority flag
• Only Reply-to-all when it’s really relevant
• Tone can easily be misunderstood in e-mail, so be sure and make your intentions known

The list goes on. For the most part, etiquette is followed by those that live and die by the Inbox, but there’s one area of e-mail etiquette that is less covered, despite being possibly the most pernicious.

Emoticons – Those seemingly innocent little text-to-character symbols that one can use to display a variety of emotions. Emoticons are strings of characters, usually from 2 to 5, one can use to create pictures. In fact, one popular e-mail client can interpret several emoticon characters and display an actual picture.

Some popular emoticons include:

• the wink: ;)
• brite-eyes *¿*
• very sad :<
• kissing :-*

You get the picture (pun intended). The use of 99% of emoticons is relatively innocuous; you get the actual intent of the writer. However, arguably the most popular emoticon--the smiley face--is being used more and more as a way of “softening” the blow of something someone said.

Recently, in a perfectly innocent e-mail to a counterpart in a certain frozen pseudo-United States country to the north, I made reference to another person’s job. In her reply, my original recipient rambled on and in her last sentence, left the following barb:

“Oh and by the way, it’s MY job to castrate new employees. :)"

OK, that’s not really what she said, but it’s very close and she followed with a little happy face. If I were one to jump to conclusions (and I am), I would read that to say,

"Look a**hole, don’t say that’s her job when it’s really mine! Just because we
acquired your little company doesn’t mean you get to continue running your
little show down there.”

…which of course pissed me off! Granted, there are situations where the usage of the smiley is obvious, as in:

• that mini you have on today really makes your ankles look nice :)
  and
• I got a raise :)

There’s no mistaking the intent here.

So I got to thinking about the inclusion of the happy face and how she used it as a way to “make nice” without really changing the underlying vitriol in her message, and I wondered what it would be like in real-life, face-to-face situations to be able to use a smiley. Upon reflection, I realized that it already happens!

• "No sir Mr. Smith, vasectomies don’t hurt at all. In a day or two, you’ll be riding your motorcycle through the countryside" (BIG SMILE)
• "Don’t look at this as a demotion. We’ve really just changed the focus of your responsibilities to more closely align with our business goals." (BIG GRIN)

In summation, e-mail is just following real-life. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still want to just reach out and smack that stupid grin off their face…

Accept your neurosis...and just move on

Despite having more than 20 nieces and nephews, I’ll never be that “fun uncle” that we all hope to be to our brother’s and sister’s kids. I suppose that is because whenever I’m around them, there are so many of them that I get overwhelmed and revert to my usual, “quiet Uncle Chris who gets crabby if he gets pushed” self. This is what becomes of only children when forced to play with the entire class.

So anyway, we have one of my wife’s brother’s daughters here for two weeks helping us take care of our youngest son during the day. Back home, she’s one of 8 kids who are all home-schooled by mom. They have quite a machine there where the older kids help care for the younger kids, ranging from age 15 down to 3 months. I can only assume, each share in the household chores as well.

You can imagine my surprise then, when I came home yesterday to find her holding my son, still in his hot pajamas, and the house a mess. Dishes on the counter, crumbs all over the table, and the floor littered with grass clippings. Honestly, in a day, the three of us don’t make that kind of mess.

However, I’m inclined to cut the kid (she’s about to turn 15) some slack given that this is probably like some great big vacation for her and since she didn’t get to our house till late Sunday night only to have to suddenly get up and start caring for the baby the next morning.

While I’m grateful for her help, I have my reservations, such as:

• She stayed downstairs watching TV till midnight last night, so as I got up to feed the baby at 11:30, I had to clothe my usually half-naked self in order to go downstairs
• How long do I let it go before I say, “Look, we’re paying you more money in a week than you’ve ever held in your hand at any one time, the least you can do is clean up when the baby is asleep!”
• Oh, and since she stayed up till midnight last night, my wife had to wake her up at 7:30 this morning so she could go to work.

Really people, I know it probably doesn’t come off as such, but I’m really a nice guy. Anal, demanding, a bit of a perfectionist, but all in all, a REALLY nice guy.
I think...