A man is walking with St. Peter through Heaven during his new member orientation. They pass a room. The man looks inside and sees a priest delivering mass to a group of worshippers. St. Peter tells the man the worshippers are Roman Catholic.
They continue walking and soon pass another door where a group of people are passing out food. "Methodists," St. Peter replies to the man's quizzical look.
Soon, they walk past another door. Loud music echoes down the hallway. The man looks inside and sees dozens of people dancing, singing, laughing, and raising their hands. "I'm guessing they're Pentecostals?" he says. "Correct."
They turn a corner. The man hears raised voices arguing. As he gets closer to the door, the din grows louder. He can hear harsh words flying back and forth. He opens the door and ducks as a Bible flies out. The sound is deafening. Everywhere he turns he sees people arguing, pointing fingers at each other, and fighting.
"Who are these people?" the man asks.
"Calvinists." replies St. Peter. "They haven't stopped arguing long enough to realize anybody else is here."
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Dreaming
Every night the kids ask me to pray for them so they don't have scary dreams. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. For kids, a scary dream is pretty darn scary. It wakes them up and makes it hard to go back to sleep. For me, a scary dream is like a free horror movie. All dreams are pretty entertaining once you've finally woken up and realized you aren't trying to run away from an angry mob.
One recurring theme in my dreams is it's the last day of finals. I have a final in a class I just remembered I stopped attending weeks before. I search frantically for the classroom but can't find it. I have that dream about once a month.
Another theme is finding rattlesnakes. Lots of rattlesnakes. I'm walking across a field and there are hundreds of rattlesnakes. I go downstairs and the floor is covered with rattlesnakes. There are rattlesnakes slithering out of my car. I wonder what this dream is all about.
Once when I was dating Tabitha, I dreamt I was racing my 1972 Datsun 510 down a mountain road. I was going pretty fast until I missed a turn, crashed through the guard rail, and flew into the air. I remember a sudden feeling of weightlessness and then I woke up.
When I was in the Navy on my way to the Persian Gulf I dreamt about a father who was angry with his daughter and killed her. That was pretty crazy.
Just today while napping, I dreamed I was travelling to another city with the kids. We were floating down a river on a small raft. We were making pretty good time too. We stopped for the evening in a small rustic town. My parents were supposed to meet us. I leave the kids by the raft and try to find a phone. I crawl through a small hole into a store. The young girl behind the counter lets me use the phone where I am dismayed to learn my parents haven't even left yet. I have to crawl through the hole again to get back outside.
Sleep would be pretty boring if we didn't have dreams to keep us entertained. I wouldn't mind if I stopped dreaming about rattlesnakes though.
One recurring theme in my dreams is it's the last day of finals. I have a final in a class I just remembered I stopped attending weeks before. I search frantically for the classroom but can't find it. I have that dream about once a month.
Another theme is finding rattlesnakes. Lots of rattlesnakes. I'm walking across a field and there are hundreds of rattlesnakes. I go downstairs and the floor is covered with rattlesnakes. There are rattlesnakes slithering out of my car. I wonder what this dream is all about.
Once when I was dating Tabitha, I dreamt I was racing my 1972 Datsun 510 down a mountain road. I was going pretty fast until I missed a turn, crashed through the guard rail, and flew into the air. I remember a sudden feeling of weightlessness and then I woke up.
When I was in the Navy on my way to the Persian Gulf I dreamt about a father who was angry with his daughter and killed her. That was pretty crazy.
Just today while napping, I dreamed I was travelling to another city with the kids. We were floating down a river on a small raft. We were making pretty good time too. We stopped for the evening in a small rustic town. My parents were supposed to meet us. I leave the kids by the raft and try to find a phone. I crawl through a small hole into a store. The young girl behind the counter lets me use the phone where I am dismayed to learn my parents haven't even left yet. I have to crawl through the hole again to get back outside.
Sleep would be pretty boring if we didn't have dreams to keep us entertained. I wouldn't mind if I stopped dreaming about rattlesnakes though.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Big Sky Country
About 5 years ago my family decided to load up the covered wagon and forge a trail to the wilds of Montana. Being unwilling to take risks, I stayed in Southern California. Sure it kind of sucks to have them so far away but it does give me an excuse to pack up the car and go on a road trip a couple times a year.
Last week I drove with the family to Montana. I stayed a few days and then flew home so I could go back to work. As I write, they are on their way home. Last night when I talked to Aidan on the phone he told me he wants to move to Montana.
The boy needs room to roam. I get that. Abigail loves being able to see her cousins. I get that. Tabitha loves the slow pace of life. I get that.
I also have a job I can't leave so easily. I like it.
I've thought about moving the family to Big Sky Country while I continue working down here. I could fly home on my weekends and see the family. Flights aren't too expensive and I would rack up air miles pretty quickly. My in-laws have said I could stay with them. So it's all settled then, right?
The fly in the ointment is that it sucks to be away from my wife and kids. Sure, they can be annoying but I'd rather they were annoying in my presence. I don't think I could commute from Montana to California for the next ten years. It would get old after a while.
Enough excuses. Here's a few things I did on this trip:
But every time my wife gets to Montana, she starts looking at real estate. She finds an awesome house on several acres that would be "perfect" for our little family. The house she found this time is a newer 4 bedroom on five acres with a large shop with an apartment. For $225,000. And it would be really close to my parents.
Last week I drove with the family to Montana. I stayed a few days and then flew home so I could go back to work. As I write, they are on their way home. Last night when I talked to Aidan on the phone he told me he wants to move to Montana.
The boy needs room to roam. I get that. Abigail loves being able to see her cousins. I get that. Tabitha loves the slow pace of life. I get that.
I also have a job I can't leave so easily. I like it.
I've thought about moving the family to Big Sky Country while I continue working down here. I could fly home on my weekends and see the family. Flights aren't too expensive and I would rack up air miles pretty quickly. My in-laws have said I could stay with them. So it's all settled then, right?
The fly in the ointment is that it sucks to be away from my wife and kids. Sure, they can be annoying but I'd rather they were annoying in my presence. I don't think I could commute from Montana to California for the next ten years. It would get old after a while.
Enough excuses. Here's a few things I did on this trip:
- I helped my dad move logs in the yard by pulling them behind the Jeep.
- I walked through a cow pasture with Aidan and my nephew, Logan.
- I threw a rock into the canal and watched it sink to the bottom.
- I rode my bicycle up my parent's road.
- I drove in the Jeep with my dad and Aidan over gravel roads to the middle of nowhere. I used four wheel drive.
- I skipped rocks on Flathead Lake with my nieces and nephews.
- I had a root beer from A&W.
- I spent time with my sisters. And my parents.
- I contemplated buying a pair of cowboy boots.
- I drank cool fresh water straight out of the well.
20,000!
I just opened my blog for the first time in a little while and saw I've finally exceeded 20,000 hits.
Wow!
Sorry I haven't had a lot of content lately to make that last thousand hits worthwhile. I'll try to make it up to you.
Wow!
Sorry I haven't had a lot of content lately to make that last thousand hits worthwhile. I'll try to make it up to you.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Roughing It
A couple weeks ago we went camping with our little church group.
We packed up the car and drove 20 miles to the wilderness of the county regional park. I didn't sleep very well the first night because of the police helicopters hovering all night. Nothing like the persistent hum of a rotor blade to make you feel like you've gotten away from it all.
I'm not much of a camper. Tents, sleeping bags, and air mattresses are a poor substitute for my house. There's a reason why shelter is low on the hierarchy of needs.
And I don't really like dirt.
It was much worse when I was a kid. I didn't even like to get dirty. There may have been a few "freakouts" because I had dirt on my hands. As I got older I didn't mind getting dirty if I could clean up afterward.
The problem with camping is that you don't have access to a shower. Therefore you generally end up going to bed dirty.
Not cool.
I like camping where there are showers. Fortunately, our campsite had a shower.
There was one problem: I didn't have a towel.
I paid my dollar for 4 shower tokens. I had six minutes to shower off two days worth of dirt. As I stood under the fine mist, I prayed the soap would rinse off before the water stopped. When the water stopped, I stood in the shower for a few minutes trying to drip dry.
It didn't work very well. Then I remembered there were hand dryers in the bathroom. I put on my shorts and turned on the hand dryer, trying to direct the flow of warm air to my wettest parts.
Do you know what's creepier than a guy drying himself with the hand dryer after a shower?
Nothing.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Bad Idea
The state of Arizona has gotten a lot of press recently because it passed legislation requiring law enforcement officers to check the immigration status of people thought to be in the country illegally. Protesters believe this law is targeted at Mexicans and will result in many legal residents with dark skin and accents to be needlessly harassed by the police.
They could be right.
However, If law enforcement focuses its attention on people of Latin American decent they will miss the true threat to the American way of life:
Canadians.
"But Canadians are just like us" you might say.
Au contraire.
Canadians might look white and middle class and speak English (albeit heavily accented and with a questioning tone), they are definitely not like us.
Every year, hundreds of thousands of Canadians sneak into this country to take advantage of the proud tax-paying citizens of this great country.
They could be right.
However, If law enforcement focuses its attention on people of Latin American decent they will miss the true threat to the American way of life:
Canadians.
"But Canadians are just like us" you might say.
Au contraire.
Canadians might look white and middle class and speak English (albeit heavily accented and with a questioning tone), they are definitely not like us.
Every year, hundreds of thousands of Canadians sneak into this country to take advantage of the proud tax-paying citizens of this great country.
- They overburden our health care system with their costly "elective" surgeries.
- They flood our streets and old-folk's homes with cheap prescription meds.
- They subvert our proud American system of measurement with their kilos, meters, and kilometers (the metric system is the beachhead of the communist invasion).
- They swill Labatts and Moosehead with reckless abandon (at least Mexicans drink Budweiser).
- They steal American jobs at ski resorts and river rafting tours.
- They take university positions away from hard-working American students.
- They take acting jobs from hard working American wait-staff (Jim Carey, William Shatner, Pamela Anderson, Dave Coulier, et al).
- They poison our political system with their socialist views and gun control.
I could go on and on.
When is the last time someone said they wanted to stop at a Canadian restaurant at 2AM after a night of hard drinking?
I'll tell you when: Never! If Canadians even have a national cuisine it's probably whale blubber and goose grease.
This spring I drove with the family to the great American state of Montana. Along the way, we saw hundreds of vehicles with Canadian license plates driving north. I can only assumes they were driving back to Canada after pillaging our great country.
This menace must be stopped. We need to build a wall along our northern border and station Army troops to prevent this invasion. Our government needs to work with the Canadian government to prevent this influx.
I suspect the Canadians will not be very cooperative. Immigration to the United States is a safety valve that allows the Canadian government to ignore their problems of high taxation and a collapsing socialized health care system. As long as Canadians can travel south for good jobs and liposuction, there is no need to reform their system.
Besides, every good cop knows you don't mess with the people who cook your food.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Keep the Rubber Side Down, Part II
I slid feet first across the pavement, the asphalt slowly grinding away the skin on my knees. Sparks shot past from the motorcycle sliding somewhere in front of me.
Two thoughts raced through my mind:
1. This is going to hurt.
2. Am I going to stop?
The answer was "Yes".
When I dressed for work that morning I didn't plan on crashing in the parking lot. I had a new summer job working for the campus electrician. I wore work pants, boots, and a t-shirt. My nod to motorcycle apparel was my Arai Signet Jimmy Adamo replica helmet and Kevlar reinforced Olympia gloves.
In retrospect, a full set of leathers might have been nice.
I'd had the motorcycle for about a year. I was a cautious rider. I'd read all the riding tips in the magazines and put them into practice. I always stayed alert and paid attention to the homicidal zombies half-asleep in their tin boxes.
But that morning, I was running a little late to work. The parking lot was empty. I turned in the driveway and rolled on the throttle. The revs shot up.
The wind roared over my helmet as the painted stripes became a blur. At the last moment, I shut the throttle and squeezed the front brake lever. The calipers clamped down on the whizzing rotor and the front end dropped as the forks compressed. At the same moment, the front tire hit a bump in the pavement. The suspension, fully compressed and unable to soak up the bump, bounced the front tire off the ground.
I flipped over the handlebars and landed on the ground. I slid for 200 hundred feet across the empty parking lot. As my body slowed I jumped to my feet. I ran to my bike and heaved it upright. The right side of the bike looked as if it had been attacked by a meth addict wielding an angle grinder.
My pants were torn. I had gravel embedded in my knees. My right arm from my shoulder blade to my wrist was an abraded mess. My left thumb was throbbing.
It was going to hurt. A lot.
Two thoughts raced through my mind:
1. This is going to hurt.
2. Am I going to stop?
The answer was "Yes".
When I dressed for work that morning I didn't plan on crashing in the parking lot. I had a new summer job working for the campus electrician. I wore work pants, boots, and a t-shirt. My nod to motorcycle apparel was my Arai Signet Jimmy Adamo replica helmet and Kevlar reinforced Olympia gloves.
In retrospect, a full set of leathers might have been nice.
I'd had the motorcycle for about a year. I was a cautious rider. I'd read all the riding tips in the magazines and put them into practice. I always stayed alert and paid attention to the homicidal zombies half-asleep in their tin boxes.
But that morning, I was running a little late to work. The parking lot was empty. I turned in the driveway and rolled on the throttle. The revs shot up.
The wind roared over my helmet as the painted stripes became a blur. At the last moment, I shut the throttle and squeezed the front brake lever. The calipers clamped down on the whizzing rotor and the front end dropped as the forks compressed. At the same moment, the front tire hit a bump in the pavement. The suspension, fully compressed and unable to soak up the bump, bounced the front tire off the ground.
I flipped over the handlebars and landed on the ground. I slid for 200 hundred feet across the empty parking lot. As my body slowed I jumped to my feet. I ran to my bike and heaved it upright. The right side of the bike looked as if it had been attacked by a meth addict wielding an angle grinder.
My pants were torn. I had gravel embedded in my knees. My right arm from my shoulder blade to my wrist was an abraded mess. My left thumb was throbbing.
It was going to hurt. A lot.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Priorities
I'm all for kicking a little terrorist ass.
However, our country seems to be spending a lot of money fighting wars overseas. Billions of dollars are being spent to maintain our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. At the same time, education spending in this country is being cut.
Teachers are being laid off.
Class sizes are increasing.
Students are spending less time in the classroom due to furlough days.
Art and music programs are being cut.
We are going to pay the cost of our country's focus on military spending for a long time.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Reform Starts at the Top
For some reason the idea of our government providing the citizens with health-care became connected with communism. The United States is the only industrialized nation that does not have a system of nationalized health-care in place.
Our current Congress is trying to "reform" health-care.
This is a bad idea.
People who are in favor of nationalized health-care believe everyone should have access to relatively inexpensive (or free) health-care. People shouldn't have to worry about going bankrupt because of health issues.
Those against universal health-care think the government will probably screw up the system just like they do everything else. They're worried we'll lose our spirit of medical innovation and become bogged down in delays waiting for routine procedures. They're worried taxes will rise to pay for medical treatment. They're concerned they will have to pay for abortions, boob jobs, and lung-cancer treatment for smokers.
Maybe paying for boob jobs isn't so bad.
I'm here to dispel a few fears.
1. Health-care is already the most bureaucratic system in the country. Would government control really make it worse?
2. Health-care is already very expensive. Have you looked to see what your employer pays in premiums? Assuming you have employer provided health insurance.
3. The bureaucrats are already making decisions about providing care. Not everybody gets what they think they need.
4. There are vast inequities in the quality of care around the country. If you happen to live in a suburban area, you probably have access to good quality care and services. If you live in a rural area or inner-city, you're probably out of luck.
The problem with reforming health-care is that we're trusting Congress to do it.
Bad move.
I'm starting to think our system of government is much more effective at creating waste, obstructing, and pandering to special interests. Congress is elected by the people to represent their voice in Washington. Unfortunately the voice with the most money shouts the loudest. Democrats and Republicans are no different.
So Congress starts crafting a piece of legislation that is a mess. Every Congressman and Senator has to put their own little twist to the legislation. The result costs a lot of money and will never achieve its intended purpose.
If they really wanted to enact health-care reform they would enact legislation appointing a non-partisan blue ribbon committee containing various people in the health-care industry - Doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, economists, consumer advocates, academics, even a lawyer or two.
This committee would study various health-care systems from around the world. It would craft a plan containing the best aspects and present this plan to Congress. Congress would then have the opportunity to accept the plan or reject it. No changes.
If we could keep the 535 members of our legislative branch from getting their grimy fingers on our health-care, we might achieve something.
It's never going to happen.
Unfortunately, the nationalized health-care ship in this country probably sailed sometime in the Fifties. The system is too large and too entrenched to change.
Our current Congress is trying to "reform" health-care.
This is a bad idea.
People who are in favor of nationalized health-care believe everyone should have access to relatively inexpensive (or free) health-care. People shouldn't have to worry about going bankrupt because of health issues.
Those against universal health-care think the government will probably screw up the system just like they do everything else. They're worried we'll lose our spirit of medical innovation and become bogged down in delays waiting for routine procedures. They're worried taxes will rise to pay for medical treatment. They're concerned they will have to pay for abortions, boob jobs, and lung-cancer treatment for smokers.
Maybe paying for boob jobs isn't so bad.
I'm here to dispel a few fears.
1. Health-care is already the most bureaucratic system in the country. Would government control really make it worse?
2. Health-care is already very expensive. Have you looked to see what your employer pays in premiums? Assuming you have employer provided health insurance.
3. The bureaucrats are already making decisions about providing care. Not everybody gets what they think they need.
4. There are vast inequities in the quality of care around the country. If you happen to live in a suburban area, you probably have access to good quality care and services. If you live in a rural area or inner-city, you're probably out of luck.
The problem with reforming health-care is that we're trusting Congress to do it.
Bad move.
I'm starting to think our system of government is much more effective at creating waste, obstructing, and pandering to special interests. Congress is elected by the people to represent their voice in Washington. Unfortunately the voice with the most money shouts the loudest. Democrats and Republicans are no different.
So Congress starts crafting a piece of legislation that is a mess. Every Congressman and Senator has to put their own little twist to the legislation. The result costs a lot of money and will never achieve its intended purpose.
If they really wanted to enact health-care reform they would enact legislation appointing a non-partisan blue ribbon committee containing various people in the health-care industry - Doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, economists, consumer advocates, academics, even a lawyer or two.
This committee would study various health-care systems from around the world. It would craft a plan containing the best aspects and present this plan to Congress. Congress would then have the opportunity to accept the plan or reject it. No changes.
If we could keep the 535 members of our legislative branch from getting their grimy fingers on our health-care, we might achieve something.
It's never going to happen.
Unfortunately, the nationalized health-care ship in this country probably sailed sometime in the Fifties. The system is too large and too entrenched to change.
Brains and Blood
Vampires and zombies are very popular in pop-culture these days. If you allow me to over-generalize, I'll break it down for you.
Vampires and zombies are both "undead". They are also contagious. The bite of a vampire turns a hapless human into a vampire and the same is true for the bite of a zombie.
The similarities end there.
Vampires are good-looking, romantic, brooding, highly intelligent, and possessed with superhuman strength. Chicks dig this kind of stuff.
Zombies are decayed, mindless, eating machines.
Teenage girls love vampires. Twilight and True Blood are immensely popular with the young ladies in our society. They love the idea of a handsome strong vampire sweeping them off their feet and blessing them with eternal youth.
I don't get it.
Teenage boys love zombies. There is no romance with zombies. It's just mindless killing (or unkilling). Boys love the idea of letting loose with a shotgun, shovel, or flamethrower. There are no flamethrowers in vampire movies.
I get zombies.
Vampires and zombies are both "undead". They are also contagious. The bite of a vampire turns a hapless human into a vampire and the same is true for the bite of a zombie.
The similarities end there.
Vampires are good-looking, romantic, brooding, highly intelligent, and possessed with superhuman strength. Chicks dig this kind of stuff.
Zombies are decayed, mindless, eating machines.
Teenage girls love vampires. Twilight and True Blood are immensely popular with the young ladies in our society. They love the idea of a handsome strong vampire sweeping them off their feet and blessing them with eternal youth.
I don't get it.
Teenage boys love zombies. There is no romance with zombies. It's just mindless killing (or unkilling). Boys love the idea of letting loose with a shotgun, shovel, or flamethrower. There are no flamethrowers in vampire movies.
I get zombies.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Sure, It's the Coldest Winter in Years...
One of the great things about living in Southern California is that you can go to the snow.
Did you catch that?
Go to the snow.
Yes, it's true. I can get in my car in the winter time and drive an hour to the mountains and enjoy the snow. I never have to worry about the snow coming to me.
No shovelling sidewalks, no frozen pipes, no crushing heating bills, no salt crusted roads. It's kind of awesome.
Today, we got in the Jeep and drove to Big Bear to play in the snow. It's the last day of Christmas vacation for Tabitha and the kids so we thought it might be fun.
We went to an area called Magic Mountain where for an exchange of a few dollars, they allow you to sign your life away and ride an inner tube down a groomed snow covered hill. We packed all of our warm clothes but didn't need them because it was about fifty degrees.
Wheee!
It's not as steep as it looks.
What's Aidan doing with that snowball?
Fight!
Run away.
An accidental self-portrait. Look how blue the sky is.
It looks like he's holding a tiny inner tube on his shoulder.
Abigail loved it.
Getting ready for a run.
What's going through that evil little mind.
The magic carpet ride.
Monday, December 7, 2009
This is Awkward
One of my buddies at work was dating a girl for a while. She was young and good looking. She would come and hang out with us in the middle of the night. She even bought pizza the other night.
But then they broke up.
There's a correlation between hotness and crazy. It might be a direct correlation. But, anyway, that's a topic for another post.
So they broke up but she is still kind of stalking him. Today, I got a friend request from her on Facebook.
We don't travel in the same circles. I don't have anything in common with her accept she was dating my buddy. Was. Dating.
Not dating now.
So I'm left with a quandary. I haven't ignored very many friend requests. I've accepted friend requests from people I don't know but we know somebody in common. I'm pretty democratic with my friends on Facebook. I also haven't unfriended anybody although I've tried my darndest to get people to unfriend me.
I'm tempted to ignore the friend request.
But then they broke up.
There's a correlation between hotness and crazy. It might be a direct correlation. But, anyway, that's a topic for another post.
So they broke up but she is still kind of stalking him. Today, I got a friend request from her on Facebook.
We don't travel in the same circles. I don't have anything in common with her accept she was dating my buddy. Was. Dating.
Not dating now.
So I'm left with a quandary. I haven't ignored very many friend requests. I've accepted friend requests from people I don't know but we know somebody in common. I'm pretty democratic with my friends on Facebook. I also haven't unfriended anybody although I've tried my darndest to get people to unfriend me.
I'm tempted to ignore the friend request.
Into Every Life...
It's raining.
Some people get all upset and perturbed when it rains. Not me. I love the rain.
Actually I don't love it so much when I'm standing on a dark rain slicked street because someone "fell asleep" and took out a light pole.
But the rest of the time I love the rain. It's pretty amazing stuff if you think about it.
Water evaporates and condenses. And then falls back to earth. It's like free water.
Sure, most of the time we buy our water in plastic bottles at the supermarket. Or we ship it down from northern California in big canals. But when it rains, that stuff just falls out of the sky.
I even turned off my sprinklers.
Some people get all upset and perturbed when it rains. Not me. I love the rain.
Actually I don't love it so much when I'm standing on a dark rain slicked street because someone "fell asleep" and took out a light pole.
But the rest of the time I love the rain. It's pretty amazing stuff if you think about it.
Water evaporates and condenses. And then falls back to earth. It's like free water.
Sure, most of the time we buy our water in plastic bottles at the supermarket. Or we ship it down from northern California in big canals. But when it rains, that stuff just falls out of the sky.
I even turned off my sprinklers.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I Wasn't Ready For This
We found her outside my in-laws house. She was hiding in the bushes where she had been abandoned. She was about a month old and meowing loudly. She tried to run away but I managed to catch her and bring her inside.
Tabitha and I had been married for only a couple of months. Our apartment complex required a deposit and a monthly surcharge to have a pet. We wanted a cat but couldn't afford the extra money. We were going to wait. She moved our timetable up.
She was about four inches long and full of energy. She ran around the apartment, chasing us and attacking our feet. She would hide on the bookcase. She loved to lie on Tabitha's chest and stare at her.
After a few months, we brought another kitten home. We thought it might mellow her out and give her someone to play with. It nearly killed her.
The new kitten came from the shelter with a cold. While the new kitten quickly recovered, she lost weight, had trouble breathing, and was generally listless. We spent a few weeks driving back and forth to the vet. She recovered and surprisingly became very mellow.
She moved with us from our first apartment to the in-law's. She weathered another change when we moved to our first house. She was the timid cat who would hide when strange footsteps walked across the porch.
If you were patient, she would peer out from her hiding place and slowly approach you. Once she got to know you, she grew to love you.
She had a distressing habit of peeing in bags left on the floor. I opened my soccer gear bag at a game to find the pungent aroma of cat urine. I washed everything as best I could. My cleats smelled like cat pee for about two years afterward. I didn't see the need to buy new ones because nobody is smelling your shoes on the soccer pitch (they're still in the garage).
She weathered the arrival of Abigail. She moved to an apartment with us. She moved to our new house. She chose the downstairs bedroom as her own. She grew to tolerate Abigail.
She then began to love Abigail. Last week I found her sleeping on Abigail's bed. She still sat next to Tabitha while she read, gazing at her with her bright green eyes. She was always afraid of Aidan. His energy and inability to be gentle kept them apart.
Last week I found her sleeping on the pillows in the downstairs bedroom. I noticed she seemed a little frail when I picked her up. The next day she was struggling to move. I found her hiding in a corner, a puddle of urine beneath her.
Tabitha took her to the vet for some tests. He thought her kidneys and liver were failing. She could barely move. She'd lie spread-eagle on the kitchen floor and meow plaintively. She wasn't eating. Today we decided it was time.
I knew this day was coming. I just wasn't ready for it yet.
My dad and I drove her to the vet. My dad held her wrapped in a towel while I drove, fighting back tears. The vet asked me if I wanted to stay in the room or let them take care of it in private. I owed it to her to be there.
I stroked her head as the vet injected the solution. She let out a sigh and then her eyes began to droop. At about 12:05 she stopped breathing.
I cried on the way home.
She was a good cat.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Dance
My kids take dance lessons. Abigail has been going for about 4 years. Aidan just started this year. He's the only boy in a class of girls. They seem to enjoy it and it gets them off the street.
Every year or so the studio puts together a big show. All the different classes perform over two nights. The youngest children usually get big cheers for their cuteness while the older kids get big cheers for their phenomenal dancing ability.
I love watching the show.
And not just because my kids are in it.
You see, I'm a frustrated dancer. I'm envious of the coordination, athleticism, grace and freedom of the dancers.
In my mind, I can do all these awesome moves. I moonwalk like Michael Jackson. I leap like Nureyev. I have the grace of Fred Astaire. Sometimes I break into a spontaneous dance when I'm in the middle of doing something... like cooking dinner or mowing the lawn.
But that's only in my mind.
The reality is that I sometimes bob my head to the beat while listening to the stereo in the car. I probably look like I'm having a seizure.
Anyway, I'm glad the show weekend is over. Aidan stole his routine and Abigail was the cutest jelly fish on stage. I just tapped my foot to the beat and clapped loudly.
Every year or so the studio puts together a big show. All the different classes perform over two nights. The youngest children usually get big cheers for their cuteness while the older kids get big cheers for their phenomenal dancing ability.
I love watching the show.
And not just because my kids are in it.
You see, I'm a frustrated dancer. I'm envious of the coordination, athleticism, grace and freedom of the dancers.
In my mind, I can do all these awesome moves. I moonwalk like Michael Jackson. I leap like Nureyev. I have the grace of Fred Astaire. Sometimes I break into a spontaneous dance when I'm in the middle of doing something... like cooking dinner or mowing the lawn.
But that's only in my mind.
The reality is that I sometimes bob my head to the beat while listening to the stereo in the car. I probably look like I'm having a seizure.
Anyway, I'm glad the show weekend is over. Aidan stole his routine and Abigail was the cutest jelly fish on stage. I just tapped my foot to the beat and clapped loudly.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Too Big
Have you ever thought about dinosaurs? Those things were huge. Giant reptiles roaming the earth, eating massive amounts of vegetation and meat. I've seen "Jurassic Park" so I know a little about dinosaurs.
Some dinosaurs were as big as city buses. Some stood as tall as three story houses. Gargantuan winged reptiles soared through the skies emitting piercing shrieks.
Have you ever wondered why there aren't any animals that big anymore?
The largest land animal is an elephant. They're pretty big but they're tiny compared to a brontosaurus. The largest flying creature is the albatross with its eight to twelve foot wingspan. They're miracles of efficient soaring.
If you look in the ocean, you can find creatures rivalling the dinosaur for size. Blue whales, the largest animal, can reach nearly one hundred feet long. Other whales are smaller but still massive. But whales have an advantage - buoyancy.
What was it about the age of dinosaurs that allowed creatures to grow to heroic sizes and survive. Why did they not run out of food necessary to support they're colossal frames? Why are there not similar animals roaming the earth today?
I've got a theory that goes something like this - There was only so much room in the ark.
Some dinosaurs were as big as city buses. Some stood as tall as three story houses. Gargantuan winged reptiles soared through the skies emitting piercing shrieks.
Have you ever wondered why there aren't any animals that big anymore?
The largest land animal is an elephant. They're pretty big but they're tiny compared to a brontosaurus. The largest flying creature is the albatross with its eight to twelve foot wingspan. They're miracles of efficient soaring.
If you look in the ocean, you can find creatures rivalling the dinosaur for size. Blue whales, the largest animal, can reach nearly one hundred feet long. Other whales are smaller but still massive. But whales have an advantage - buoyancy.
What was it about the age of dinosaurs that allowed creatures to grow to heroic sizes and survive. Why did they not run out of food necessary to support they're colossal frames? Why are there not similar animals roaming the earth today?
I've got a theory that goes something like this - There was only so much room in the ark.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
There's Only 24 Hours in a Day
When I started my freshman year of college, I was forced to take a one unit orientation class. It had some new-agey name like "Connections". I was fresh out of the Navy, a Gulf War veteran, and, frankly, a know-it-all ass.
But there I was, with all the other incoming freshman.
One of the areas covered was time management. We needed to learn how to spend our time wisely so we wouldn't flunk out of school and be forced to join the military. I scoffed.
What did I need time management for? I was taking twelve units. My first class started at noon. I didn't have a job, a girlfriend, or a social life. I stayed up past midnight just so I wouldn't wake up too early.
In the Navy, there were only two rules for time management:
1. Show up on time.
2. Do what you're told.
Easy.
That first semester in college I earned straight "A's". It was the first time I'd ever managed a four point oh.
The next semester I had a few more friends and a job. I earned two "A's" and two "B's". Uh-oh. Now I had a three point five.
I won't bore you with the details but the downward trend continued. Just between you and me, I'm lucky to have a college degree.
As a nearly forty-year-old adult with two small children, a time-consuming job, and a lovely wife, I need to manage my time wisely. I muddle through. I even keep a calendar now. But there are so many things that I should get done that don't.
There's activities and sports my children should be participating in. There are weekends I should be spending alone with Tabitha. There are projects around the house that need to be finished, not to mention the ones that need to be started.
I should have paid attention to the time management seminar.
But there I was, with all the other incoming freshman.
One of the areas covered was time management. We needed to learn how to spend our time wisely so we wouldn't flunk out of school and be forced to join the military. I scoffed.
What did I need time management for? I was taking twelve units. My first class started at noon. I didn't have a job, a girlfriend, or a social life. I stayed up past midnight just so I wouldn't wake up too early.
In the Navy, there were only two rules for time management:
1. Show up on time.
2. Do what you're told.
Easy.
That first semester in college I earned straight "A's". It was the first time I'd ever managed a four point oh.
The next semester I had a few more friends and a job. I earned two "A's" and two "B's". Uh-oh. Now I had a three point five.
I won't bore you with the details but the downward trend continued. Just between you and me, I'm lucky to have a college degree.
As a nearly forty-year-old adult with two small children, a time-consuming job, and a lovely wife, I need to manage my time wisely. I muddle through. I even keep a calendar now. But there are so many things that I should get done that don't.
There's activities and sports my children should be participating in. There are weekends I should be spending alone with Tabitha. There are projects around the house that need to be finished, not to mention the ones that need to be started.
I should have paid attention to the time management seminar.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Bedtime
It's about eight o'clock as I sit down at the computer to write this. Tabitha is lying in bed reading one of the Harry Potter books. She's been in bed for about 15 minutes already. This is her usual routine (at least on my days off). She's an early to bed, early to rise kind of girl (only because of her alarm).
Abigail is downstairs watching the movie "Over the Hedge." She will come upstairs in about twenty minutes and tell me she is ready for bed. If she is really tired she'll say, "No story tonight" and she'll crawl into bed and fall instantly asleep. She usually wakes up with the sunrise.
Aidan is vacuuming downstairs. He's been vacuuming for the last hour. Pretty soon, I'll go downstairs and tell him it's time for his shower (he likes to shower now). He won't be happy. He'll want to watch his shows on TV. I'll insist he takes his shower and then I'll let him watch "Wow, Wow, Wubzy." He'll sit on the couch transfixed by the television. At about ten, I'll go downstairs, turn off the TV, and put him in his bed. He won't be happy about this either. He'll cry and complain and insist I read "two" stories for him. I'll agree to one. He'll insist he's not tired. He is. Eventually he will lie down and ask me to put his blankets on him.
And then the house will be quiet.
There was a time when I went to bed relatively early. My days of choosing to stay up late and getting up early are long in the past. Now, I have no choice.
I've been working the graveyard shift at the salt mine for over a year now. It has started to screw up my sleep cycle. I can't get to bed much before midnight. I'll lay in bed reading until about one o'clock. And then I'll shut off the light and try to get to sleep.
Try.
Sometimes I go to sleep quickly. Some nights I don't. When the alarm goes off at six o'clock, I'm not really ready to get out of bed. But I do.
For some reason, I have an overwhelming desire to take a nap at about noon.
Abigail is downstairs watching the movie "Over the Hedge." She will come upstairs in about twenty minutes and tell me she is ready for bed. If she is really tired she'll say, "No story tonight" and she'll crawl into bed and fall instantly asleep. She usually wakes up with the sunrise.
Aidan is vacuuming downstairs. He's been vacuuming for the last hour. Pretty soon, I'll go downstairs and tell him it's time for his shower (he likes to shower now). He won't be happy. He'll want to watch his shows on TV. I'll insist he takes his shower and then I'll let him watch "Wow, Wow, Wubzy." He'll sit on the couch transfixed by the television. At about ten, I'll go downstairs, turn off the TV, and put him in his bed. He won't be happy about this either. He'll cry and complain and insist I read "two" stories for him. I'll agree to one. He'll insist he's not tired. He is. Eventually he will lie down and ask me to put his blankets on him.
And then the house will be quiet.
There was a time when I went to bed relatively early. My days of choosing to stay up late and getting up early are long in the past. Now, I have no choice.
I've been working the graveyard shift at the salt mine for over a year now. It has started to screw up my sleep cycle. I can't get to bed much before midnight. I'll lay in bed reading until about one o'clock. And then I'll shut off the light and try to get to sleep.
Try.
Sometimes I go to sleep quickly. Some nights I don't. When the alarm goes off at six o'clock, I'm not really ready to get out of bed. But I do.
For some reason, I have an overwhelming desire to take a nap at about noon.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I'm Watching You
When I was Aidan's age, my family lived in small town Indiana where my dad was attending seminary. My mom was busy caring for my two younger sisters and we didn't have a television. To keep me out of her hair, she would send me outside to play.
Unsupervised.
I can hear the gasps from here. Yep, my mom let her three-year-old son play outside without an adult watching his every move. Crazy!
And yet, somehow, I survived to be a semi-productive member of adult society. She had one rule for me when I went outside:
"Tell me where you are going."
Most of the spankings I received (perhaps a topic for another post) were because I failed to remember this one little rule. I would get so caught up in whatever I was doing that I would forget to go back and tell her what new location I had decamped to.
Amazingly I was never kidnapped.
These days, you are a bad parent if you let your children out of your sight for one moment. Bad things could happen. Your child could be kidnapped, molested, jumped into a gang, crash on his bicycle, given drugs, given candy, given non-organic food, given non-locally grown non-organic food.
The horror.
I think we, as parents, need to lighten up a little. Kids need some unsupervised time to themselves to figure out how things work. They need to learn how to negotiate with their friends without adult intervention. They need to learn that it's "okay" to fall down and skin their knees. They need to start to learn how to be independent.
Because seriously, I don't want to be taking care of my kids when they are in their forties.
They should be taking care of me.
Unsupervised.
I can hear the gasps from here. Yep, my mom let her three-year-old son play outside without an adult watching his every move. Crazy!
And yet, somehow, I survived to be a semi-productive member of adult society. She had one rule for me when I went outside:
"Tell me where you are going."
Most of the spankings I received (perhaps a topic for another post) were because I failed to remember this one little rule. I would get so caught up in whatever I was doing that I would forget to go back and tell her what new location I had decamped to.
Amazingly I was never kidnapped.
These days, you are a bad parent if you let your children out of your sight for one moment. Bad things could happen. Your child could be kidnapped, molested, jumped into a gang, crash on his bicycle, given drugs, given candy, given non-organic food, given non-locally grown non-organic food.
The horror.
I think we, as parents, need to lighten up a little. Kids need some unsupervised time to themselves to figure out how things work. They need to learn how to negotiate with their friends without adult intervention. They need to learn that it's "okay" to fall down and skin their knees. They need to start to learn how to be independent.
Because seriously, I don't want to be taking care of my kids when they are in their forties.
They should be taking care of me.
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