Ninja Samurai Death House

So, on Thursday afternoon, whilst driving to meet our realtor to peruse some houses we might be interested in buying, Wifey noticed one particular house was for sale. There was more to it than that. In front of this particular house there was a couple who looked like they were about to tour said house.

Our Conversation:

Wifey: Hey, SRH, there’s a couple about to see that house, do they know someone was killed there.

Me: Someone wasn’t just killed there, Wifey. They were killed with a sword by a guy wearing a ninja costume.

Wifey: Yeah, you can’t get that kind of blood stain out easily.

Me: Maybe that is why the price was reduced?

Wifey: I hope they re-carpeted

Me: Boy Howdy!


I think this is another reason why Wifey and I are not realtors. Well, that and our dislike of interacting with people on a daily basis.

To Recap:
It is my birthday tomorrow
I was not planning on coming into work
Now I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon that I have to go to from 3 to 4
Rassin' frassin' rickin' rackin' curse curse sputter
I will be a whopping 32 years old
That means my maximum heart rate for aerobic activity will be a paltry 150.4
I can get my heart rate up to 150 by thinking about a milkshake
The guy was killed by someone dressed as a ninja and wielding samurai swords
Choose, either be a samurai or a ninja
Only one rivalryt exists that is greater than the Samurai/Ninja rivalry
That is the Pirate/Ninja Rivalry as documented here, here, and here
I am discounting the Mime/Clown rivalry
Mainly due to lack of deaths
"Ninja Samurai Death House"
Was that a great title, or what?

The World Cup of Father's Day

I have 2 topics to discuss in today’s post. Honestly I am not entirely sure what order to bring forth these 2 topics. Well, they are World Cup soccer and Father’s Day. So here we are, which should come first? The soccer or the Father’s Day? The soccer or the Father’s Day? The soccer or the Father’s Day? Okay, I am getting a vibe from the back of the room asking me to table the soccer talk until after the papa chat.

Father’s Day:

Why is on days that we are attempting to celebrate our role as a parent we always want time to ourselves. At least that is the case for Wifey and me. On Mother’s Day this year, the big gift that Wifey wanted (and subsequently, did not get due to circumstances out of my control) was time away from Little Man duties. This year for Father’s Day I wanted to sleep in and not change dirty diapers and the like. Wifey gamely attempted to change Little Man’s first diaper, but he was having none of that so by 9:00 am I was wiping poop from the little one’s backside. Yea me. The day kind of followed that trajectory for a while culminating in his spitting out 2 bites of chicken tenders into my hand because they were too hot. FYI: partially chewed chicken tender pieces are rather disgusting to touch, much less has ejected into the palm of your hand. Yeeeeeee-uck!

All in all though, I got a “Happy Fatte’s Day” (a really close pronunciation) from Little Man as I finished my part in last evening’s bed time routine. That pretty much made it all worthwhile. Now I just have to steel myself for Wednesday’s celebration of the beginning of my 32nd year of life. Yippee.

USA vs. Italy:

Italy, you should feel lucky that the ref absolutely sucked. His suckage and penchant for throwing red cards around saved your boot country’s World Cup asses. The De Rossi foul was definitely a straight red-card. Not many impartial people will deny that. The only reason that McBride was able to continue is that he has had so many facial surgeries that he has no feeling in his cheeks. The Pope red-card was questionable but acceptable, but the Mastroeni straight red-card was absolutely a crap call. Italy, you should be very pleased with the point you got, cause the US was robbed, by a ref who was suspended prior to the ’02 Cup for some such reason. Horrible refereeing, just plain horrible.

That demonstration of horrid reffing begs the question as to why no US ref’s were selected for center spots. Brian Hall is much better than that tool of a ref disgracing the pitch, but he wasn’t called up for the cup. He would have been a fine ref for some other fixture, and we could have gotten someone other than Cardy McWhistle. Hell, my lazy ass brother could have called a better match, and he is only reffing High School games in Virginia Beach. To call half the crap he did in the first half and to eject that many players without making hardly any calls late in the second half shows some kind of inconsistency and questionable behavior in the eyes of most cup viewers. If you don’t mind me speaking for you, “most cup viewers.”

What makes me most happy about the game is that the US team really was going after it. Completely contrary to the Czech game where the US looked listless and unconcerned, at best. Now we have to beat the ever living snot out of really good Ghana team to ensure Team USA’s place in the second round. That will be rather difficult since, up to this point the US has not actually scored a goal.

To recap:
Partially chewed chicken tender in the palm of my hand, makes me feel just a bit on the queasy side
Next Father’s day gift should be the ability to sleep in
Man, I need some sleep
It seems to be the only thing I am consistently thinking about
32 on Wednesday
Somehow 32 seems a bit underwhelming
There is that whelming again
Refs should not influence the outcome of a game
They should make sure that the sides adhere to the codes of conduct associated with the sport
This ref was arbitrary and should be banned from further iternational matches
Again

20 questions v 5.1

Okay, here we go with the latest installment of 20 questions with SRH. I am traveling for work today to sunny, Hudson, Ohio to look at digital asset inventorying systems for their water utility. Are any of you jealous? I didn’t think so.

Again, thanks to everyone who submitted questions. This time around I got some q’s from across the Pond and south of that Panama Canal. I am an inter-continental answerer now.

1. If the Collective Unconscious, according to Jung, really exists, is it ineffective because there are so many people who want so many different things? If we culled the population (90% or so) would it work better?
I think the Collective Unconscious will never be useful because even if the population were only 10% of today’s pop, 90% of those people would still be self-absorbed jack-asses.

2. If you could only eat one type of food for the rest of your life what wouldit be - Give examples?
I would only eat cooked food. That is a type, right? As for examples, braised, roasted, broasted, grilled, sautéed, flambéed, stir fried, deep fried, pan seared, baked, I could go on and on…

3. Who was the best James Bond and why?
Sean Connery. Far and away the best Bond of the bunch. He set the bar. Plain and simple

4. Which would you rather live without Books or Television?
I no read so good, but most TV is based on books. Crap, I would give up TV. And Damn you to Hell for making me say that!

5. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
I just wanted the Hell out of Alabama! I didn’t care if I was flipping burgers at a fast food joint, as long as I was far far away from ‘bama. Ummm… upon further reflection a swashbuckling swordsman Jedi ninja.

6. Finish creatively: "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water..."
Jill realized that she was not really all that necessary for this trip and decided to let Jack do it himself. She now has to live with the guilt of Jack’s death by “Broken Crown.” Why Jack? Why?!?!? You were so young….

7. “Reddish Rain Water” was falling in India in 2001. Is this an alien invasion? If so, isn’t it about time?
It is the precursor of the alien invasion, not the invasion itself

8. If you had infinite mind-influencing power; would you, or would you not, create a scary cult dedicated to the adoration of Little Man?
Already starting to form the cult as I type. You know he is soon to be your leader

9. What came first, sunset-s or sunrise-s?
Sunrise

10. Which Superhero would make the best father - Discuss?
Definitely not any of these weirdos

11. Why is it that Chicago is cool and Detroit Sucks?
I found my trip to Chicago to be most un-cool, so I am not the person to answer this one for you.

12. Why do people make fun of the statement “It is not the heat, it is the humidity.” When it clearly is the humidity?
People like to make fun of clichés for being trite. Clichés exist for a reason people…

13. Which is a worse death? Falling from a plane or being poisoned?
Snakes on a Plane ‘nuff said

14. It appears that in dolphin conversations, the dolphins self identify with every phrase in their whistles and clicks (for example, “Flipper swims fast. Flipper likes to eat. Flipper this and Flipper that. Flipper sure is into himself…). Why is it that their “names” that they identify themselves with seem to more closely resemble their mother’s more than their father’s?
Turns out that the dolphin social structure is rather fluid, much like the medium in which they live. Mothers and calves stay together for the calves’ early life while the father goes out drinking with his buddies. I would say that the moms actually name the little tykes and the dad has very little to do with their offspring. That is why.

15. Who knew?
Only the Shadow knows…

16. Since the DaVinci Code is not really that original of an idea, and really not that well written of a book, why is it so popular and shouldn’t the people who made it so popular just read more?
Yes, they need to read more and better books

17. Whatever happened to Estelle Getty?
I have no idea, but you can still catch Golden Girls re-runs if you need your fix. I think the networks are a bit afraid of doing a “Where are they now: Golden Girls” because there is a good chance they are dead.

18. How do you think Harry Potter is going to end?
I really think Harry is going to win. He will vanquish Voldemort and in doing so Gryffendor will get 10 points which is just enough to put them above Slytheryn for the House Cup. Yep, Harry will save the freaking world and Gryffendor will get 10 measly points.

19. What college experience do you regret and why?
I went drinking one night after an all you appetizers meal. Turns out I ate a whole bunch of chicken fingers and then drank a whole bunch, and then saw how many chicken fingers I ate a whole bunch.

20. What is your favorite thing about Little Man?
Right now, this very instant? His laugh. Not his fake laugh, the real one that only comes out occasionally, but is oh so worth it.

To Recap:
Going to Hudson to look at pipes on a computer
I think I have done this before somewhere
I know you all are extremely jealous
I just know it
It is the only thing that will keep me going today
Have a great weekend
Good Luck to the English v T and T, they are Dynomite

Musings

My commute is not a terribly long drive. Typically it takes about 15 minutes if I don’t get all the lights. If I get the lights, I can maybe, just maybe make it in using up only 10 minutes of my life that I will never get back.

Often I have bizarre and strange musings on this short jaunt into work. These musings typically flit in and out of my brain like moths trying to get to light bulbs, but I would hardly consider these thoughts to be the proverbial light bulbs going off in my mind. Nope these thoughts are way too fleeting and ill-formed to be any sort of useful thoughts. These stray thoughts range from what animal combinations would look like and their names (for example: 1. alligator + penguin = alliguin or pengator 2. marmoset + lemming = marmoming or lemmiset or 3. wombat + vampire bat = vampire wombat) to the potential of creating a pulse laser weapon using surgical lasers and an oscillating focal length (a very complicated idea to say the least) or even the creation of a new system of mathematics that involve non-existent numbers (an even more complicated idea to say the least, yet again). Mind you, I have neither the time, the energy, the expertise nor the power to bring any of these lame schemes/ideas to fruition, but sometimes these are the things I think about on the drive into work.

Today was not one of those days. Today I just listened to NPR and drove into work.

To Recap:
The drive in is when the inane crap occurs
I think it has to do with my brain slowly coming “online”
If I lived on the Island of Dr Moreau, you would need to be afraid, very afriad
The drive home typically involves talking to Little Man about his day
I do most of the talking
How was your day, Little Man?
Aiight
Did you have fun at Grandma D and Grandpa R’s today
Uh-Huh
Where are we going now?
Home

Procrastination

In high school we had to do term papers for my sophomore, junior, and senior English classes. Typically we had to do 1 a year. I remember clearly the day before my 10th grade paper was due when I got home from school, my mom just could not understand why I went to bed immediately upon entering the house. My reasoning was simple, I was going to procrastinate anyway, I might as well make it constructive procrastination. To me, sleep will always be “constructive procrastination.” I got up that evening around 8 pm and wrote the paper until 6 am. It was a rather interesting take on a comparison and contrast of Caius Cassius from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar and Jack Merridew in Golding’s Lord of the Flies. The characters are surprisingly similar, and it still makes me wonder if Golding modeled Jack after Cassius. My personal bet is “Yes.”

As an aside, I got an 84 out of 200 on that paper, but only because of 3 misspelled words and 2 comma faults in a 10 page paper prior to the days of robust automated spell and grammar checks. She actually wrote on the title sheet of the paper (I still remember it to this day), “Very interesting topic, well researched and well presented. 84/200.” In fact, of the 90 students that this particular teacher taught (3 classes) only 5 people got passing grades on their papers (they were all D’s by the way). Some of those who failed were the children of other English teachers in the same school system. Sure some of those kids with English teacher parents were not the brightest people ever, but I am sure they had their work proof-read. My particular English teacher was not that well liked.

Anyway… my point is that I am a procrastinator. I am also lazy which leads to my penchant for “constructive procrastination” or naps. Here this issue, I have some things to get done, both at work and at the house, but there is no way for me to “constructively procrastinate.” When I have tings that need to be done, I do not sleep that well at night, but I can turn off the thoughts in the afternoon and nap like a champ. Here is my issue, Little Man will not allow me to nap at home while he is conscious, and work decidedly frowns upon my stretching out under my desk and serenading everyone with my sonorous slumbersong.

I guess the real meat of the matter is that I am tired. I have been sleeping for crap, and I am getting tired of having the house on the market.

To Recap:
Me sleepy
Mrs. Cannada was not a good teacher
Mrs. Roby was
These renderings aren’t going to render themselves
I do work well in pressure situations though
It seems to be when I work my best

Best picture of the bunch from Chicago

1 hour later he was screaming and crying so we would leave the Tutankhamen exhibit

World Cup v House on Market

A couple of sentences about the US v Czech game. The US looked absolutely pitiful. They came out flat and stayed flat the entire game. The Czechs out-played us in every category (especially the diving. Good lord, if Demarcus Beasley can knock you over with all 5 foot 6 inches and 145 pounds of himself, you should not be playing the game). Every single one. Absolutely abysmal showing by the US team. It seems that this US team has bought into the hype that they are the best team we have ever fielded. What the US did not realize is that just because it is the best we have ever fielded does not mean that we are going up against the same level of competition. Reality check everyone, the rest of the world is better as well. I wish I could say that they played a really good game and were just unfortunate, but I can’t even do that. That was just plain painful to watch. Absolutely abysmal.

Enough of that game. I deny that it ever happened.

So I wanted to settle into a nice World Cup viewing this weekend, but instead had to vacate the house during the game times because some people wanted to look at the house. In 4 years remind me not to have my house on the market when the cup is going on. It is really quite annoying trying to both at the same time. Stuff needs to be picked up and cleaned, but Sweden is playing rather flat against T and T. The underdogs are a man down and holding off a much more skilled team, but the laundry needs to be put away in a room without a TV. We have a showing in 10 minutes but England is getting ready for a dead-ball set piece about 35 yards from Paraguay’s goal. Little Man needs to get his shoes on but the Dutch have the ball and are pressing the Serb Montenegrins something fierce. The bathroom is not going to clean itself while Iran goes into a defensive posture versus Mexico. You can see my dilemma.

I am glad that the World Cup only lasts for a month. Wifey is glad that it only happens every four years. If we could just get the house in contract, I could watch so many more games.

Speaking of the house front, other than interrupting my Cup obsession, we had a total of 6 showings on Saturday, luckily all 6 showings occurred during 2 time slots, but those 2 time slots were from 10:00 to 11:00 am and from 2:00 to 3:00 pm. Set up perfectly to interrupt 2 of the 3 games. Just plain lovely. At least people seem to be kind of interested in looking at our house. We also had an open house on Sunday coupled with a showing early that evening. All in all we had 10 “groups” go through our house this weekend. Offers so far? Nary a one. This selling the house thing is very inconvenient.

On to happier topics.

Okay, I got nothing. Stupid World Cup intruding on all my thoughts

To Recap:
Czech 3 – USA 0
It hurt to watch. It was like watching the US play in 1990
And that was a painful undertaking
I wasted a long lunch for that?!?!
Trinidad and Tobago tied Sweden 0 – 0 after being a man down for about 42 minutes
TNT = dynamite
We have averaged about 1 group per day since we have had the house on the market
Keeping a house in “showable” condition with an almost 3 year old is taxing
I think there is some allergen out there that is just kicking my ass at the moment
Getting out of bed has been difficult for the past couple of days

Chicago: Part 3, Trains, Oh God! The Trains

Before we get into the meet of today’s post, I find it necessary to state un-equivocally that I love Little Man. I love him something fierce. I find him to be the absolute most entertaining person on the planet. I enjoy spending time with him. Time with him really does brighten my day. He already has a quirky sense of humor, and his language skills seem to be growing by the minute. He honestly has the most amazing sense of direction and space. It really is stunning how well he knows where he is. I love that little boy to death and time spend with him is recharging and invigorating

most of the time.


Whilst in Chicago, Little Man’s interest in trains seemed to get the better of him, and cause me to go slightly insane(er). Chicago, for those of you who do not know, is one of the few American cities where mass transit is an accepted form of travel within the city. Therefore in Chicago there are a few different types of trains that one can use. There is the most well-known system known affectionately to Chicagoans and others as “The El” which is there elevated transit system that runs through most of the downtown area, and there is the Metra lines which are commuter trains that feed in from more outlying suburbs. To Little Man these are referred to as “White pas car” (pronounced “wīt pah car” translated as white passenger cars) and “Orange pas car” (same pronunciation of “pas.” He is all into the French nasal diphthongs at the moment. Again, translated as "Orange Passenger Cars”) respectively.

We arrived in Chicago on Monday evening, so Tuesday morning Little Man and I venture forth into the city and make it an entire half-block before we have to stop and watch the El for 1 hr straight. He only stopped watching the train because we had to get back to the room fro his breathing treatment.

Wednesday, his breathing was better and I decided to see if he wanted to look at “Big Water” (**Lake Michigan). We headed across Michigan Avenue into Grant Park and had to stop on the pedestrian bridge that over looked the Metra lines. I could not get him off of this bridge for 2 solid hours because their was a parked train on the tracks that he could watch not move. Occasionally another train would go by and ruin my chances of getting him to be willing to leave the spot. Only lunch with Wifey enticed him away from the bridge.

Thursday, Wifey did not have any conference duties in the morning so we attempted a run on the Field Museum of Natural History and the Tutankhamen display therein. Little Man was having none of it. He wanted to watch trains, and he wanted to watch trains right then and for at least an hour after right then. We did finally make it into the museum and paid our 50 smackers for the Tut exhibit. We spent about 30 minutes looking at stuffed animals before getting in line for Tut. We waited in line just fine, but when we were finally able to look at these artifacts Little Man threw a fit. It was very frustrating. Had we been the only people in the museum and not surrounded by priceless artifacts, we probably would have fought it out. As it was, we were surrounded by people getting increasingly angry with our screaming child, and our child was getting increasingly vocal about the necessity of our departure as we navigated the maze that was the exhibit.

After his nap that afternoon, we watched the Metra for 2 hours.

Friday, morning we watched a little El prior to him allowing me to take him into the city, and for 2 hours in the afternoon we watched the Metra.

Notice it is the same pedestrian bridge. I hate that pedestrian bridge.

Saturday morning, prior to us going to the zoo. Wifey, Little Man and I spent some time watching the El.

On average I spent at least 2 hours a day watching trains in various states of movement. Watching 2 hours of trains daily is not so bad, the issue was that when he was watching for the El he would continually ask “Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Where white pas car? Wherewhitepascar? Wherewhitepascar? Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?” He would ask this until a train went by, and the he would say “There white pas car.” Then he would start his crazy making mantra of “Wherewhitepascar?Wherewhitepascar?” It didn’t matter if I answered him. It didn’t matter at all. He would not shut up. It was constant and un-ending. Why wouldn’t he shut up? I didn’t know where White Pas Car Was! I ASSUME THE WHITE PAS CAR IS ON THE TRACK SOMEWHERE ELSE!! STOP ASKING THAT QUESTION!!!!

Umm, anyway… it was very much the same ceaseless noise making associated with the orange pas cars!

To Recap:
We were in Chicago for 123 hours, he slept for 68 hours, we had meals for 9 hours, and for 12 of the remaining 51 hours we watched trains
Almost ¼ of his entire wakeful time in Chicago was spent watching the same trains
On Friday the El operators were waving to him
They recognized us from the 2.8 million people living in Chicago
World Cup starts tomorrow
Germany is going to decimate Costa Rica
Monday’s post will most likely be all about USA v Czech Republic


**originally I had this called out as Lake Erie. This is due to the inordinate amount of time I have spent working on maps for a major Cleveland transportation project. Thanks to whomever the anonymous poster was who alerted me to my mis-laking.

Chicago: Part 2, The Hotel

Okay, what do I have to say about the Hotel? Hmmm… where to start, where to start?
The Hotel is a gorgeous Hotel from the outside. It has a nice edifice and evokes the feeling of the early to mid 1900’s really well. The accommodations are of an “okay” size, but for the cost we were being given, they were not that large or accommodating. Our room had a bed in it and a tiny little table along with the requisite dresser and TV. It was nothing special, and certainly not worth the $200+ a night that it turned out to be. One could see that the hotel could be a really nice hotel with some minor modifications and a thorough cleaning. That being said, it was a 2-star hotel that had aspirations to be a 4-star.

The door knobs on the fire doors were coming off, but a hamburger from their kitchen cost $10.95. The door knob issue, while being a gigantic fire hazard, was also quite annoying because it was really difficult to get into and out of our hallway. The toilet leaned a little to the left when you were seated on it. The fridge that they allowed us to use in the room for a minor rental fee looked like it had been in one to many dorm rooms. The thing was completely beat up, I am honestly surprised that it closed. They did not have a microwave available for rental or use. We had to buy a cheap microwave at Target for the “heating of the chickies.” Little Man almost went through an entire large orange bag of the things during this trip. He would have them for breakfast and a pre-dinner snack.

Anyway… The staff that we interacted with seemed nice enough, but the desk staff was populated with jerks. They were the absolute worst concierges I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with. Not only were they un-knowledgeable about their city, they were also rude about their lack of knowledge. FYI: If you are going to be in a position where people are expected to ask you questions, please be polite whether you know the answer or not.

The real kicker about the hotel and its situation was the strike and picket line that was going on at their main entrance. Okay, a little background information: The conference Wifey was going to was NCORE or the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity in Higher Education. The Congress Plaza was listed in the conference materials as the “approved” overflow hotel for the Hilton Chicago (a much nicer hotel with no picketing or strike to boot!). The strike was occurring due to “unfair labor practices” and consisted almost completely of people of some sort of Hispanic/Latino or Black backgrounds. On top of all this, the strike has been going on for the past 3 years straight! Now, that is some solidarity.

The sad irony of being in a hotel where a strike was occurring to go to an anti-oppression conference was not lost on the conference attendees. In fact many of the attendees were really questioning why the Conference planners endorsed a hotel with a clearly oppressive hotel with very little scruples. Turns out the hotel lied to event organizers and said that the 3 year long strike would be over by the time the conference came to town. Guaranteed it, actually. The conference planners were less than pleased. Every time wifey left to go to the conference, she had to walk through a line of unfairly treated brown people to go to a conference where one of the major topics was the unfair treatment of brown people.

They also stated that it would only be $10 extra a night for me to stay in the room. Turns out they charged us $25. Jerks.

Had Little Man’s breathing not been such an issue, we probably would have gone to stay at a non-striking hotel. As it was we, once again, decided our convenience was more important than the rights of others. Apparently we’re jerks, too.

To Recap:
The Congress Plaza Hotel and Convention Center is considered a 2-star hotel for a great many reasons
Wifey, is clearly the karma of our relationship
The MacDonald’s on Wabash has Grape Fanta
Mmmmm grape soft drink
If you have an itch, scratch it

Just some pics

Little Man with the Sears Tower in the background

Little Man at Millennium Park

Chicago: Part 1, Breathing

As I stated on Wednesday of last week, I was a bit afraid of Little Man and Wifey getting sick because of my ailment. Well on Saturday Wifey started feeling bad, and we noticed that Little Man started showing signs of a sore throat as well. Sunday rolls in and Wifey is feeling better, but Little Man seems a bit worse for the wear. At this point Wifey and I are trying to decide whether or not Little Man and I will be making the trip. It just would make no sense for us to travel to Chicago if his breathing was severely compromised. We decide that it is going to be a “game-time” decision, and wait to determine his travel fitness until Monday morning when we are planning to start our trek.

Monday morning rolls around. He sounded a little creaky, but a breathing treatment seemed to take care of it easily. We are ready to roll. We get in the family vehicle and take off for Chicago. Just outside of Indianapolis (North side) he starts coughing. For some background: When Little Man’s asthma rears its ugly head, it presents itself as coughing and not wheezing. We find a mall and an outlet to give him another breathing treatment. It has been a bit over 4 hours, so we are not alarmed by the treatment’s necessity.

Fast forward another 4 hours, we are now on the I-90 toll road to the South of Chicago, but not quite to the “Skyway.” Traffic got really heavy, much heavier than one would think for a holiday afternoon at 6 pm local time. All is good though, we were only 20 miles away from our final destination. As we approach the Skyway, traffic stops. While this is a typical traveling nuisance and typically just mildly annoying, this delay took more of a toll on us because Little Man started to cough. We are only 20 miles away from the hotel and the ability to give Little Man a breathing treatment.

Traffic was creeping forward at a snail’s pace, and to make things worse, the vehicle behind us was populated with 2 little girls with access to some kind of external speaker system. They were commenting about adjacent cars and drivers. They thought that were insanely clever, but high pitched voices on a tinny speaker are not terribly discernable. Therefore their incredibly clever banter ended up sounding like some chipmunks hooked up to a guitar amp. Not pleasant, nor funny in the least, in fact, quite annoying. I really wanted to brain those little urchins. Little Man’s coughing was getting worse.

An hour and a half later we had finally traversed the 20 miles, and pull up to our hotel. We unpacked as quickly as we could, got up to the room and started a new breathing treatment. (Hindsight being 20/20 and all, we should have purchased the nebulizer that hooks into the car cigarette lighter). He responds well enough to the treatment to settle down enough for the night.

2 hours into his sleep he wakes himself coughing… another Breathing treatment. Every 2 to 3 hours we gave him treatments. This breathing regime continued throughout Tuesday. We decided after his 3 pm breathing treatment to go to the Chicago Children’s Memorial E.R. and put our kid on Orapred again in a “foreign” city. We are kind of old hat at this, so we decided to get dinner first, and then head to the E.R. when his breathing was worse so the E.R. would take us a bit more seriously. We ate at a nice little pub about 2 blocks away from the E.R. and then hiked our way to the E.R.

We signed in and gave them the litany of medicines that Little Man is currently taking: Singulair once a day, 1 tsp Zyrtec daily, Pulmicort (.5) twice a day, Foradil twice a day, and Xopenex with Atrovent as needed (every 2 to 3 hours in this case). Little Man was barely coughing at this point. IT had been almost 3 full hours since his last “breathy.” His pulse/ox was at a surprising 98%, and he seemed to be doing a bit better. After being in the waiting room for 30 minutes, we notice that his breathing is actually better than it was immediately after his previous treatment.

Wifey, is his breathing better?
I think it is.
Did we just have to threaten him with a Dr’s visit?
I think so.

We told the triage nurse that his breathing was better and then we left. On Wednesday we had to give him 2 rescue treatments. Thursday: 1. Friday we gave him one for good measure. On Saturday we went to the zoo and headed home.

To recap:
Little Man’s asthma is scared of doctors
We give him a shit-ton of medicine
Daily
Yes, we brought his train to the hotel room
Decided to not be so anonymous anymore
Little Man and me outside the Field Museum
Outing Wifey too
Wifey and Little Man waiting for the El to go by, Little Man is really enjoying it

Chicago: the Overview

Chicago: Oh, there are many things to chat about concerning my family’s recent trip to Chicago. In fact, there are 3 main areas I will be focusing on this week about the trip to Chicago. Today I will give a nice overview of the trip and the rest of the week I will be fleshing out more anecdotes as the week continues.

So, remember my fear of getting Little Man and Wifey sick Well, consider Sunday afternoon the beginnings of the illnesses. We traveled on Monday. An interesting trip in the car. We stopped just outside of Indianapolis for a breathing treatment and went through the industrial blight that is south of Chicago on the I-90 toll “Skyway.” I am sorry, if I am paying to be on a roadway, I really think the scenery should not be solely comprised of industrial decay and blight. Maybe that is just me. Anyway… One excruciating trip later, and we made it to the hotel. His breathing issues abated by Wednesday, but Monday and Tuesday were really touch-and-go. More on this tomorrow.

The hotel, now that is a topic for another day. In fact, that is the topic for Wednesday. The give a quick overview of the hotel, it is a 2-star hotel that charged like it was a 4-star. I was horribly under-whelmed by this hotel’s ethic and customer service. For being on Michigan Avenue and being next to some nicer hotels, this one just plain sucked.

There are tons of activities to do in Chicago. There are tons of Children’s activities to do in Chicago. Chicago is a great city, with great stuff to do. I spent most of my time on a pedestrian bridge over looking the Metra lines or under the “El.” A good 2 hours of everyday was spent watching mass transit. I am tired of mass transit. More on this on Thursday, it is still too painful to talk about.

Here is one small anecdote from eating at Gina’s Cuisine, a fine little restaurant on Wabash Street near Congress Parkway that has a great grilled chicken sandwich. Side note: The woman working the register (I assume it was Gina) was absolutely floored when I asked her what she would recommend. I was sitting at a table with Little Man where he was able to watch the El from the table. I was wolfing down this wonderful sandwich while Little Man was taking down French fries like a champ, when this guy sits down next to us. Out of the blue he exclaims, “Good Lord! He looks just like you!”

“Yeah, I have to claim him, even if I don’t want to.”
“I mean, Jesus, He looks just like you.”

“It’s because I cursed him with my hairline.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” The guy then started talking to me about his kid. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Couldn't he see I was drinking a root beer and eating a chicken sandwich? By this point in the trip, I had not started craving adult conversation (It was Tuesday morning). If he had caught me on Friday I would have clamped onto him like a bear trap.

To Recap:
The trip to Chicago was not restful at all
I was the primary care giver for Little Man the entire week
I am craving adult conversation
Craving it
It is good to be home
And online
Had some really good deep dish pizza
I walked around the city a whole bunch
My hips hurt now from all the carrying of Little Man on my shoulders.
Pics to come tomorrow

Chicago

On Monday the family will be getting our stuff together and heading to Chicago. This means that this post will be my last post until June 5th. I know that you are all shedding tears and gnashing teeth at the thought of my not posting for a week, but I assure you, you will survive. A better question is “How will SRH survive without his beloved Internet connection for 5 days?” Honestly, I do not know. It would be one thing if I had a laptop with Wi-Fi, because I am sure Chicago has hot-spots. If a laptop were available I could check on all sorts of things. The Internet has become my primary news source, my primary entertainment source, and my favorite past-time. I am a bit disturbed at my reliance on the Internet. Maybe this will not be such a bad thing after all.

What will I do in the evenings while Little Man is asleep in the room without the calm blue glow of my computer monitor? I think I will need to get a good book. Maybe I will bring a sketchbook and get some drawing under my belt. I have not done any hand work for a while. Sketching sounds like a winner. I will definitely find a good book and a sketch book as well. Well, my evenings are planned. At least I have that going for me. Good book and some mediocre sketching will have to replace the wondrous glow of the Internet.

I also have done absolutely no research on Chicago. I know pretty much how to get there, but I know nothing about what restaurants Little Man can eat at, what kid friendly activities there are for him to do, and other such general information as that. I feel woefully under-prepared for this trip. In truth, the trip has kind of snuck up on Wifey and I. I know that I need to take him to Millennium Park, and with how interested he is in water a trip to the Lake is in order as well. I know that we should attempt to get Little Man to go inside the Aquarium (he is abjectly against going into dark spaces currently) and the Zoo is always a possibility, but I have no idea where these places are in relation to where we are staying. If I was able, I would look all this stuff up tomorrow, but I am afraid I will be too busy work-wise for that kind of in depth investigation.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that we will be able to find stuff to do. I know very well that Chicago is a vibrant city with tons of stuff to look at and do. My issue is that I have not even remotely looked into what to do with the little one. The good thing is that even if I just find a nice playground we will be golden. At least the weather looks like it will be pretty good for us. They are only predicting isolated thunder storms currently for Tuesday and Wednesday. I can handle isolated t-storms, it is complete days of rain that I am not looking forward to.

To Recap:
Going to be out-of-town and away from Internet for a week
I am sure I will have a myriad of stories to tell
Sheesh, yesterday’s post was quite the whiney one
So Little Man dropped his hamburger on his plate yesterday and calmly said, “Oh, shit.”
At least it was said calmly
I would be mortified if he had anger management issues as well as a potty mouth
Hopefully the concierge of our hotel is useful
Lately the hotel concierges that I have dealt with have been absolutely useless
I have to figure out where the heck I put my drawing stuff
See you suckers on June 5th

License to Ill

I am not feeling well today. It is a cold. A nasty little bug. The issue with me having a cold is not necessarily the discomfort that I have to deal with whilst my sinuses are trying to explode. No, the main issue is that Wifey and I automatically go to DEFCON 4 when one of us gets ill prior to Little Man having the illness. As the father of a child with fairly severe asthmas, it is scary for a sinus-y or congestion related illness to go sweeping through the house. I know there is a chance that Little Man will not pick up my illness, but in truth, him not getting this is not bloody likely. I get a head cold, and fears of ER visits and Little Man hospitalizations come bubbling up to the forefront.

I wish I could just sit back and idly worry about my kid getting a cold, but more often than not, when Little Man gets a cold, his breathing gets severely compromised. When his breathing gets compromised, we have to give him breathing treatments every 4 hours and that sometimes does not keep us from the ER and the dreaded miracle known as Orapred. Worrying about this is just tiring. Now, not only am I sick and trying to fend off this malady, I am also worried about my little one. I will feel guilty when Wifey contracts this, and I will feel doubly so when Little Man starts his symptons. I should not feel guilty about it, but I will.

I am riding the snake of Advil Cold and Sinus whilst over-loading my system with Vitamin C and Echinacea, and partaking in the wonders only referred to as nasal spray, so I am a bit on the spacey side today. I probably should not be allowed to operate heavy machinery (especially heavy machinery in the shape of an ’03 Jetta), and I probably should not be allowed to post this post. I have not had an illness induced post for a while, so this is kind of due.

To my co-workers who read this blog, I assure you that I am covering my mouth when I cough and I have been consistently washing my hands throughout the day. I have even been using that Purell-esque stuff as often as I walk by it.

To Recap:
Sorry for the lack of funny, but I feel like crap
I need a nap
I hope Little Man can avoid this illness
I am not pinning much on that hope
Did I mention that I needed a nap?
The other issue I am dealing with here is that even my lack of motivation has left me

Pet Peeve

If one gets specific, one seems insane when one mentions one’s pet peeves. Global pet peeves are all fine and dandy. I can’t stand tardiness. A pet peeve of mine is racism. I cannot stand people who are mean. I think everyone can get behind those “pet peeves” without thinking the person who spoke them to be completely bat-shit crazy or worthy of wearing a boot on their head. Global bad manners are easy to mention as pet peeves, because there is no harm in doing so. No one is taking a chance when they say, "I can’t stand people who drive erratically." Well, duh, we all hate bad drivers. Yes, yes, “fingernails down a chalkboard” is really annoying, but what really gets you going.

When people talk about their true pet peeves, and not the crap that everyone agrees with, their eyes get wide, their pulse quickens, they talk faster, and you can see them getting visibly agitated by the thought of their pet peeve. It is quite enjoyable to get someone really talking about their pet peeves. It is interesting to see what really gets someone’s goat. There is no way for anyone to state their true pet peeves without looking absolutely nuts.

Recently, Wifey had the pleasure of filling out a biographical questionnaire. One of the last questions one that questionnaire was “What is one of your pet peeves?” I was privy to seeing some of the responses of the other people who had to answer this bio. They mentioned bad drivers, and tardiness, and other global pet peeves. Way to put yourself on the line there people. Wifey’s answer is more real (for lack of better wording). She stated that her pet peeve was “People who chew with their mouths open – I know, I should just get over this one, but I don’t seem to be able to. Just close your mouth already!”

Way to go Wifey! Not only is she correct, people who chew with their mouths open are damned annoying, but she also laid something out there for all to see. So, in my ever increasing need to be truthful to you, my blog readers, I feel it necessary to come clean about some of my pet peeves. Here are 10 of the things that really irk me.

1. People who leave the lid up on a copying machine. Good Lord people! Do you like it when copies are nice and fuzzy due to the inordinate amount of dust on the glass, you bunch of jackasses.

2. People who have “Dale Earnhardt #3 with wings” stickers on their cars. Why? Dale, Why?!?!!? He died too young! Sweet mother of God and all that is Holy, the man died 5 years ago. Let it go, you did not know the man. He was not the people’s champion; he was a NASCAR driver for cripes sake! Not a Saint to be revered.

3. People who don’t shut their damned mouth! You slack jawed yokels make me want to shut your frikkin’ mouths for you. Freaking mouth-breathing troglodytes! You might as well be walking with your knuckles dragging the ground saying, “Derrr, Ummm, me like me some soup real good.”

4. People who I do not know striking up conversation with me from the neighboring bathroom stall. Listen, I am here for one reason, and one reason alone, and it isn’t to make friends. I am here to excrete wastes and wash my hands before I leave for someplace less ass-smelling. I do not know you, nor do I want to know you while I am on the pooper or standing at the urinal.

5. People I do know striking up conversations with me from the neighboring bathroom stall. Listen, I can “chat” with you about the weather or the most recent sporting event of consequence when I am not trying in vain to leave the smell of ass behind me. (get it? Leave the smell of ass behind me? Oh, I slay me.)

6. Pretty much people chatting in the bathroom. The bathroom is a facility for the deposit of human wastes, not a conversation pit. Sure there are places to ensure sanitary conditions post waste evacuation, but the primary reason for bathrooms to exist is to make human waste go away, not chat about current events.

7. Did I mention anything about talking to/around/near me in a bathroom setting? Oh, yeah, 4 though 6. Never mind, but it does really get my ire up.

8. I mean it really ticks me off, and the worse thing about it is that I have to be all polite and respond back in an appropriate manner, e.g. not flinging poo at the offending chatser.

9. Co-workers who read this blog and now think it will be amusing to follow me into the bathroom to start up a conversation. There is a sink there, and I will fling poo. My hands will clean much faster than your shirt.

10. People who collect Precious Moments figurines. Not so much of an “anger” pet peeves as much as an “abject fear” pet peeve. You people scare the shit out of me. Weird-ass Christian precursor to Japanese Anime.

Ummm, I think I may have overstated the whole don’t talk to me in the bathroom thing, but I think you get my point.

To Recap:
Everyone hates bad drivers, even bad drivers (although they think the other people are worse)
Not everyone hates people who strike up conversations in the loo
I do
But I am not bat-shit insane
No really
Just ask me
But not when I am in the bathroom
The fam is traveling to Chicago next week, for the whole week
Anyone know much about Chi-town’s anti-allergen eating establishment?

IMD

It is that time in a parent’s life when their little one (Little Man in my case) has decided that he will start having Indecision Melt-Downs. What exactly is an Indecision Melt-Down (IMD for short)? Well, the answer is a bit lengthy and requires anecdotes. In short (but not so short as IMD is short for Indecision Melt-Down), an IMD is a tantrum like episode brought about by a child’s ever changing whim.

Example 1: Lunch with Little Man on Friday: We (Wifey and I) have a wonderful time with Little Man in the hobby store picking out a new Thomas piece and some new track, but then we have to go and get some lunch.
Me: Little Man, do you want to go to Yellow King or Orange King? (McDonald’s or Burger King, respectively, for those new to this here blogaroony).
Little Man: Orange King!
Wifey: Okay, Burger King it is. Meet you there, SRH (I came directly from work, whilst they played at an indoor playground.)
We all drive over to BK, and I notice that Wifey and Little Man have parked over by the exit.
W: I almost brained LM a second ago.
M: Why is that?
W: When we got here, Little Man started to say, “Yellow King! No Orange King! YELLOW KING!!!” So, we started to exit from here to go to McDonald’s, but when we got to the exit he started saying, “ORANGE KING!! ORANGE KING!!” and sobbing.
M: Yes, I know this game well….

Example 2: What to watch Saturday afternoon:
Me: Little Man, you want to watch Train or Bear?
LM: Green Bear. (A specific Bear in the Big Blue House)
M: Okay, let’s get it into the DVD
We get it in the DVD player and fire it up
LM: TRAIN! TRAIN /weeping now TRAIN TRAIN, NO BEAR! NO GREEN BEAR!!
M: Fine (a bit too sarcastically), we can watch Train, but you said you wanted Bear.
LM: /weeping NO BEAR. Train…

These are just 2 examples from a litany of examples Wifey and I could provide. IMD’s tend to follow the same pattern. We let Little Man choose between Option A and Option B. He chooses one of those options and then screams and cries for the other option when we implement his original choice. Rather tiresome. It really is a no win situation.

It seems the “Terrible 2’s” are indeed upon us.

To Recap:
I have heard that the Terrible 2’s really last from 1.5 to 20
At least there is an end in sight
If you are going to give someone a “Plaque of Recognition” make sure your lower case Q’s and lower case G’s do not look exactly alike
Changes the whole meaning of the “award”
I am soooooo tired of Little Man’s favorite Thomas DVD
It hurts me to watch it anymore
Wifey was out of town this weekend
So Little Man and I went hiking without her
A good time was had by all

20 questions with SRH

Okay, I am traveling to Cincinnati for work today, so here is the most recent installment of 20 questions with SRH. Again, these questions are compiled from people I know and some I don’t.

1. Do you recycle or do you assume that by throwing away aluminum and glass and “recyclable” plastics with your regular trash that is sent to the landfill, you are creating a future industry where long lost landfills are sought out and mined for their invaluable resources. I mean the whole nine yards. I am thinking 1000’s of years from now, like after some sort of nuclear holocaust with a complete loss of technology where maybe just maybe, genetically modified dwarves would be used for mining. So… do you recycle or not? Think about the future….

Okay, let me get this straight. Your question is if I recycle or not. My answer is somewhat. Wifey is much better at the whole recyling thing than I am. So half of our household recycles. So, imagine the number of genetically engineered mining dwarves with Scottish accents (it is a known fact that all genetically engineered mining dwarves have a Scottish burr) cut in half.

2. So why won’t socialized medical care work? I am not asking if it will or won’t that is a bit far out there and I am hoping for genetically modified dwarves, so what do you think its down fall will be? (and don’t say people, that’s just cheating.)

Ummm… people. I ain’t above the cheating

3. So what do you miss most about caffeine? Is it the magic button like instance of going from sleepy and dull when you wake up to full swing in just one can OR is it the 2-3rd hour after lunch that has you so close to coma that you fear for your safety that could be so easily cured with just one or two delicious sips of everyone’s favorite xanthanine?

I have a confession to make. I have not been completely faithful to the strict “no caffeine” stand that I was on earlier. I have found there is only so much Sprite and Sierra Mist I can take. The methadone (caffeine free Mt Dew) isn’t hacking it as much, so I have let an occasional Pepsi or Coke slip into my gullet. So, I am typically caffeine free. What I hate the most about being mostly caffeine free, is the let down around 2:30 pm. The “post lunch lurch,” if you will.

4. So I can’t help but notice that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes were on a recent People magazine, does that mean US Weekly is winning?

Oh, US Weekly is totally better, regardless of TomKat coverage. They know what they are, they do not try to fool anyone with manufactured stories of ordinary people overcoming adversity to tug the heart strings. US Weekly goes straight for the celebrity gossip. I respect that. I respect that probably more than I should.

5. So that 70’s Show and Malcom in the Middle are both gone in the same week. Is CBS going to make a comeback!!?

Probably not.

6. How is it possible for your 2.8 year old son to eat 12 chicken fingers at one sitting?

I imagine he has to have some hollow cavities other than his stomach in his tiny frame that fill up with food matter. It is the only way… Although last night he did yarf up some of his stomach contents...

7. Was Reagan right, is ketchup really a vegetable?

I am not really sure that Reagan was right about anything. Other than his spending policies which toppled the Soviet Union, I cannot think of one thing that the man did “correctly” other than speeches. Like him or lump him: the man was an incredible speaker.

8. If you could magically change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

My complete and total lack of super-powers.

9. Does your mother-in-law meddle? Give example.

My Mother-in-Law reads this here blog, and I am fairly sure you, the question maker, knows that. So, in answer to your question, “no comment.”

10. If you had to move from Columbus, Ohio, where would you like to live?

I would have to say someplace either nestled in the mountains, or someplace close to mountains. I love me some mountains.

11. You find yourself in a winner take all cage match with the Yeti. Assuming neither of you possess any martial arts skills and the arena is only equipped with a wire hanger, a used tissue, and a whoopee cushion, how will this fight turn out?

Well, first of all consider the whoopee cushion completely trashed (don't ask. It isn't pretty). Needless to say, it is now completely unusable. The wire hanger is busy hanging up a new Yeti coat in my closet, and the cleaner portion of the used tissue is to wipe the seat off my brow.

12. What are the current contents of your pockets? If you are not wearing pants, please explain why. Oh, God, Please be wearing pants, please be wearing pants…

A cell phone, some keys, my wallet, sunglasses (‘cause I am cool like that), and a 0.7mm Pentel Mechanical Pencil (‘cause I am not cool like that)

13. The answer is 3. What is the question?

What is the maximal digit in a quatrinary counting system where a 0 exists. I covered the fact that I have a mechanical pencil in my pocket, right?

14. In your opinion, what is the best board game of all time and how has it shaped you as an individual?

Good question. I will have to say Battleship, and not that crappy can’t cheat at this game electronic Battleship either. I did mention the whole "Not above cheating" thing, right? It taught me that if I randomly shoot enough rubber bands over my cube wall, I will eventually win…

15. A monkey runs screaming down the hallway of your place of employment. Is this odd?

Which monkey? I mean, the whole premise rests on which one of the monkeys is screaming and running willy-nilly. They have such different reactions to such different stimuli. Plus, merely a “typical” scream , or is it an “alert” scream? One invokes the phrase “That silly monkey,” with a slight shake of the head. While the other causes me to burrow under the carpet in my cubicle.

16. Do you prefer cold, sunny weather or warm, rainy weather? (in other words, what wins - temperature or lack of precipitation?)

This is a potato/potato (add the voice inflection yourself) situation. As long as it is not “bitter cold and sunny or stupid blazing hot and rainy” I am fine. Typically I gravitate towards the cooler weather though…

17. Since your Yeti Conversation post, have you heard from the Yeti?

Not wrinkly hide nor stinky hair. I think the Yeti has tired of his pursuit.

18. How does a one-hour conference call leave me two hours behind on my work?

Typically conference calls hurt one's head? If this is so, maybe you needed and extra hour post conference call to decompress from the inanity of the call itself. Or maybe the call resulted in more work for you to get done. It is hard to say when I was not privy to the call.

19. How many slides are too many for a powerpoint presentation?

20

20. Are you pondering what I am pondering?

I think so, Brain, but where are we going to get 2 penguins, a rubber chicken, and 4 boxes of duck tape at this time of night.



To Recap:
See you guys next week
I am traveling to Cincinnati
I hate work travel
Thanks to all those who submitted questions

Launched

It looks as if soon the Little Man will no longer be needing Wifey or myself. It seems that he has “figured out” how this whole microwave cooking thing is supposed to happen. Last night, the resourceful 2.75 year old decided it was “his turn” to make the “chickies” (Tyson Chicken Tenders). He only needed my help to get the bag from the freezer. (Note to self, in new house, get freezer Little Man can access easily.) He placed the poultry products on his plate, opened the microwave door, and waited for instructions.

I called out “4” to him, and he obligingly hit the 4 button. I called out “5” and he searched diligently and pressed, unerringly, the numeral 5. I said, “Now hit the ‘START’ button." and he hit the “STOP/CLEAR” button. Okay so there are a few bugs to work out of the system. So we started over again. I called out “4” and he hit the 4 button, I called out “5” and he hit the 5 button, and I said, "Now press the “START” button." and, having learned from our previous attempt, pointed to it for him. He pressed the button and magically the microwave started exciting the polarity in the water vapor trapped in the chicken. Little Man giggled with what one can only assume was pride. One makes this assumption since the giggles were more gleeful and not so much malevolent. Plus, malevolent giggling is typically referred to as malevolent “chuckling.”

Anyway… I digress. The 45 seconds ended and he flipped the “chickies” over, and the call and response began again. “Little Man, hit the 4 button.” He complied. “Okay now the 0 button.” It took a bit of searching, but he finally found the button. “Now press ‘START’ again.” More giggling as the microwave turntable started to spin like so many electrons.

Little Man has learned how to cook. He is now self sufficient. As soon as he is potty-trained my job as a parent is done, and he is already used the potty a couple of times.

To Recap:
Little Man is becoming quite the big boy
My allergies are really flaring up today
My right eye is quite itchy
Version 2.0 on the renderings is complete
Now I just have to revise as per the client’s request
I will be traveling to Cincinnati tomorrow
I hate traveling for work
I want to take a nap
We are having pancakes for dinner
With Bob Evans sausage links
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
The pancakes are really an excuse to eat sausage
Mmmmm sausage

Funky

So the house is on the market and we have averaged about 1 showing every 2 days since we have listed the house. We average about 1 showing every 2 days, but in reality (or realty: oh, God, I am sooooo punny) it is more like every third day 2 people walk through our house. Again an odd sensation knowing that people you do not know are rummaging through your cupboards.

Since our realtor is such a good realtor, she gives us feedback on what the prospective buyers’ agents tell her. Okay, maybe that is typical realtor behavior, but whatever, she’s a good realtor, damnit! Anyway… the feedback typically comes back like, reasonably priced, showed well, 3rd bedroom too small, too many bodies in the basement, etc… So far the potential buyers haven’t given us an offer, but we will get one. The oddest bit of feedback we have gotten so far is from one of the showings we had on Saturday. Their realtor gave this feedback to our realtor: “The basement and attic are funky.”

I am not sure exactly what that means. Now, in some circles “funky” means stinks like sweaty socks and bad shoes. Our attic doesn’t stink. At it’s worst, the attic smells like stale and stuffy air, but that is more of an ambiance and not so much of a smell. Whilst we were becatted, our basement might occasionally make it into the realm of “funky” due to the litter boxes and my general laziness associated with cleaning them. Now, though, the basement only has that vaguely earthy smell that most basements have. So, we think we can safely remove odoriffic from the meaning of “The basement and attic are funky.”

Next there is the psychedelic meaning of “funky.” Our basement and our attic do not even remotely possess attributes that lend themselves to be “funky.” There are no beaded curtains, no lava lamps, no disco balls, and no garish colors on the walls. As far as attics and basements go, they are rather un-psychedelic. The closest we come to psychedelicism is the attic’s paint color. We painted the trim white, but the walls and ceiling are granny-smith-apple green. Whimsical, sure, but not “funky.” Let me put it to you this way, George Clinton would not deign to get high in our attic, and that man would smoke a bowl in any place that was even remotely funky.

Honestly, we are at a loss. We can remedy some comments. If we get too many more “the 3rd bedroom is too small” comments we can put a single bed in there, and people can see that a bed actually fits in the space. But there is not a way to un-funkify a space that is non-funky in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, we do not intend to act on every comment back from other agents, but if we are consistently hearing the same thing as a negative, we are going to try and remedy that.

I think the buyer just didn’t want our house and made something up. Ummm, the basement and attic are funky. Yeah, that's it. Funky.

To Recap:
Oh, No, No, No, Don’t Funk with my Heart…
Didn't think I had any Black Eyed Peas quotes, did you?
We have a showing for realtors tomorrow
Whoopeee!
Left-overs for dinner tonight
I had to mow the grass in drizzly rain yesterday afternoon
That sucked
The Caffeine Free Mountain Dew (my methadone) is no longer working as intended
I have to go to Cincinnati on Thursday
Almost as yuck as Cleveland
But not quite

Vending

For the past 1.5 years at my office we have been down to one snack machine and 2 different drink machines (one for cans and one for bottles). This weekend the vending machine fairies deposited 3 new machines in our auspicious office. Again, they are in the same distribution: one snack machine and 2 drink machines (one for cans and one for bottles). So I saw the machines this morning and thought to myself “more variety is always good.” If by more variety I meant “variety of purchasing place” I would be a happy man right now. Turns out that the machines are mere copies of the craptastic selection we had before our snack machine capacity doubled.

One would think with a full 100% greater vending capacity there would at least be a 25% increase in vending machine variety. In our building, one would be wrong. Horribly horribly wrong. For example: Say that last week I wanted a crappy little bag of chips (crisps for the Britons. “Hello, Britons.”) SAY IT!!

Anyway… my choices were Ruffles, Doritos, and plain old crappy chips. So, let’s say that I want a bag of chips (again, crisps for the British readers). SAY IT!!!! I COMMAND YOU TO SAY IT!!!!

Anyway… my choices are Ruffles, Doritos, and plain old crappy chips, but in 2 locations. Do you see the difference? It is subtle, I completely understand if you need a minute to ponder out the intricacies.

While I wait I will look at a picture of the pine marten that lives in my skull, Fluffy.

The weather has been abysmal lately. It has been dreary and rainy all week, which has awakened the marten’s tenuous slumber…

Back to the story at hand... You see, the problem with having 2 vending areas with the same choices is that you have not increased variety in the least. What is the point of adding more vending when (a) you are not increasing the universe of choices for the vendee and (b) you never really sold out of anything when you only had one set of vending machines? They have increased capacity while doing nothing to demand, yet the prices are the same. Simple supply and demand says that the prices should have gone down. Monopolistic jerks…

To Recap:
What’s wrong with adding variety to my vending situation?
No really, what’s wrong with that?
I need to cut the grass
Badly
By “grass” I mean “patch of dandelions”
My music selection is a bit stale on my work pc
It is the same music selection as my home pc
I am getting old
Most new music sounds like a bunch of whiny kids
Any younglings reading this here blog, gimme some musical artists I should look into
If you say “Nickleback” or “My Chemical Romance” I will find a way to ban your IP
I will...

Phoning it in

Okay, in our house we have a bit of an un-written and un-spoken understanding regarding my parents. Wifey doesn’t want to talk to them because they say stupid stuff that just infuriates her. Things like “SRH never went a bar prior to dating you, “or “Does SRH do all the cooking for the house? It seems like he never talks about your cooking.” It is just best if she does not have to endure those things. So, for the most part I answer the phone at home, so if it is my parents, she doesn’t have to talk with them. It really is better that way. She does speak to them on birthdays and holidays. I have to give her some credit.

Well, last night I was doing the bed time ritual with Little Man and whilst I was incommunicado, my parents called, and Wifey picked up. The parental units were calling to let us know that they made it home safe and sound. It was very thoughtful, and a very nice thing for them to do. The funny thing is, since they do not talk with Wifey very often, they latch onto conversations with her like… like… ummm, like vice grips? My metaphor generator is down at the moment. So I am truly at a loss for words. Anyway… they proceed to have a 45 minute long conversation with Wifey. If she threw them a bone more often, I don’t think that would happen, but my parents are lonely, lonely people who crave conversations, so maybe it would. A bit of a run-on sentence there. And a fragment there. My grammer is appalling today.

Anyway… during the course of this 45 minute chat session with my parents, the topic of my job review came up. How this came up, I am not entirely certain, but I think it had to do with Wifey not wanting to give them any information about herself and her personal life, so she placated them with a story about me. Just a guess though. So my latest review became the primary topic of conversation. Oh, Goody. You see this past year, I have not really felt all that inspired at work, and while I have maintained a good level of professionalism and gotten tasks done in a timely manner, I have not really pushed myself to grow professionally. I have kind of cruised through the last year, by not really going above and beyond, like I normally try to do. Turns out that my review this year was one of my more glowing reviews. I have my theories on why, but that is a tale for a different day. Today we are focusing on the transgression of Wifey.

So I “phone it in,” in effect, for a year and get my best review yet. As Wifey puts it to my parents, this is not a good precedent to start for me. I have mentioned that I am lazy, right? Anyway, my mom agrees whole heartedly and starts talking about how I was fine with B’s in school because the effort it took to get a B was minor compared to the effort necessary for an A. So, my dad starts chiming in about how I was a grand architect in my Boy Scout Troop of the philosophy of “That’s ‘Good Enough.’” Great, now Wifey, Mom, and Dad are all in agreement on something about me, and it is not about how wonderful and creative a soul I am, it is about how I calculate the minimal effort required to create something acceptable, and strive for mediocrity. Can you feel the love?

To Recap:
I was a horrible high school student
I was the most lack luster Eagle Scout any one has ever seen
She stopped talking to them for her own sake
I will endeavor to keep her from talking to them for my sake now
I am phoning it in right now
Even as I type
My works loss has been my blog’s gain
Got the crits back on the renderings
I have some serious revisions to do
Wifey is about to make me rearrange the third bedroom and attic so that the house shows better
She’s got all sorts of crazy rules about house showing
“Don’t leave your underwear on the floor”
Blah Blah Blah
It’s a good thing she knows that ragging on her means I love her.
No really, it does
Right, Honey?