TERROR ALERT LEVEL:

This krep was posted:

DECEMBER 2008
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Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

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Everyday reads...

Read on YOUR terms...

Read on THEIR terms...
Lileks
Dave Ramsey

Stuff for your ears...

Yes, I'm reading this now

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All commentary Copyright Stonestead.com, 2007. No part may be reproduced without permission. All statements within are the express view of the author and not necessarily those of his employeer, his clergy, his spouse, his friends or even himself.

Huh. I guess I forgot that I was going to lose an hour today. Drove blindly into that darned Central Time Zone without so much as a second thought about it. And now? Well, in a word, crud. But hey - the hotel has internet access AND public terminals for guests so that's pretty cool. Then again, if someone comes up and needs to use the thing I'll have to step away, so this will be brief. Just in case.

The trip down here passed pretty darned quickly. The first part of it anyway - we were in Amarillo in a little over 6 hours. Might-Tee impressive if I do say so myself. We were then slightly dismayed to learn that we still had 320-some miles ahead of us and I started paying even less attention to the speed limit. (Which, by the way, PUH-LEEZE! Any of you ever drive through north Texas? Talk about a God-forsaken stretch of real estate; criminey. You could drive down the highway shooting a gatlin gun out the window and not hit anything but tumbleweeds. 70? Should be 170 if you ask me)

Still, even with the long drive and the lost hour we were able to have dinner before we passed out from lack of nutrition, find the hotel and chart our course to the new acquisition for the morning. Not too shabby...

Oh - and when I called home tonight The Wif asked The Knuckleheads if they wanted to talk to Daddy. I could hear them scream, "NO!!" So I told her to put it on speaker and I talked to them instead. Can't get away from me, boys!

OK - I'm off to check my email and maybe tweet a little before I have to go figure out how to work my alarm. If only I can remember my password to upload this page...

Tell you what - if you can't read this let me know, OK? Thanks. You're a peach.

Man oh man: I guess it's been a while since I last took a road trip. I can't prove that beyond the simple fact that I haven't been sleeping well lately, but I think that should be more than enough, frankly...

For the past couple of nights I have been roused from sleep by the "realization" that I've arrived at my destination safely - only to discover that I've gotten there without a single ratchet-tie, moving blanket, traveling companion, cardboard covering, bungee cord or even a quarter in tow with which to test the product. It's a bit like that dream we all have where we show up on the last day of class in only our underwear and then dance like our arse was on fire only to take the two hottest cheerleaders back to our room and then be revived by EMT's, (in bikinis), after first discovering a sure-fire money making scheme whereby both AIDS and stupidity are cured by a simple nasal spray.

...

What? You mean your dreams don't end that way? Well, there's scant little I can do about that, Biff.

Still - I think I've taken care of the larger questions and whether or not I've packed enough socks will be a question for the ages - as in: "Why the Hell should I care if he's wearing clean socks?" That sort of thing.

The fact that I know exactly where my seller lives and how to get there is a bit of a nod to today's technology; he can send me - via email - a series of numbers and letters and in an instant I can not only get a path to his house but see a picture of the big, bad, brick monster he inhabits. Such an age.

My only hope is to fill our basement with such equipment. It only seems fair, after all: she moves me off my mountain and into a world troubled with complications even after we consider what might have been elsewhere.

In short? I think I've finally learned to play the game. Let's see how far I can take it before she resigns herself to a single floor.

Because I'm ready to start rocking this place from it's foundation. Guess which female in the neighborhood is behind me? Any bets that The Wif is un-involved?

So I'm leaving work on Christmas Eve. I have a stop or two to make before I can go home and one of them is not only in my old neighborhood, (Ralston & Ward), but will allow me a path home that takes me past the kids' daycare. Heck - I may as well stop by and pick them up - thereby saving The Wif a trip - right?

As I'm leaving King's I grab my phone and see that I've received 3 new messages from Lileks via Twitter. I read them, "navigate" my way out of the parking lot and then try to call The Wif to tell her my plan when a man answers.

Well, not a man per se, but a recording of a man's voice. He tells me that, "[my] account cannot be verified," and I should try again later. 'Huh' I think. Maybe the lines are busy or the network is clogged. After all, it IS Christmas Eve and there's bound to be people (READ: men), on the phone getting the final shopping list or calling Mom to say that they won't be there until 4 and could she please make that Jell-O dish she used to make when they were all little? And NO, I haven't heard from my brother -- why would he call me?

At any rate, I try the call again with the same result. And after going through the next traffic light I repeat the process. I eventually conclude that something is indeed wrong here and try to contact customer service.

Now, the only number I know for sure is the billing number but I'm sure they've heard of one another so I call it anyway. A helpful young lass hears me out and then connects me to "Steve" in customer service. I explain that I'm trying to call The Wif - who's also on a Sprint phone and he asks me for my phone number, (which seems ridiculous: don't they have caller ID? The offer it to me), and as I'm giving it to him I realize that I'm talking to dead air.

That does it -- I'm officially TICKED OFF!! Seeing as how I can either pursue the call OR navigate the Death Star safely home - but not both - I decide to just stop by the daycare and let the chips fall where they may.

I pull up to see The Wif's car in the lot and the family leaving the building. The Wif is carrying a red gift bag, but what the heck? Everyone's carrying a gift bag, right?

I park, get out and relay my tale of woe: something's wrong with our account, has she been able to use her phone and SOMEONE'S GOING TO PAY FOR THIS!! She then hands me the red bag and says, "this should solve your phone problem." Being as dense as a black hole, I secure The Knuckleheads into their car seats and put the bag on my passenger seat before heading home. Since our schedule is tight I end up making homemade egg noodles for dinner before I check out the gift.

Big mistake. It's a beaute. GPS? Tested it on Friday and it's flawless. Internet? Well, I can see some of the sites I enjoy but I'll have to read the manual to fine tune it. Google? Natch. Text? With the drop-down keyboard it's a cinch. Tweets? HA! EES PEESE OF KAKE!

I'm loving this thing - and I get to really put it to the test, but that's next. Plus, I can charge it using my Palm's charger in or out of the car or at any PC.

Oh, yeah...

This week may be light but for once it's by design. See, I'll be out of town one night this week and if I'm able to set things up with my new phone even then I won't want to spend hours on the miniature keyboard to put something here if I can't come up with a better plan. Right now it looks like the Wednesday post my suffer/go missing but you never know, do you?

I'll be spending a night somewhere in the Fort Worth area and with any luck I'll get there early enough to just collapse in time to get a decent night's sleep before the turnaround in the morning. Again, you never know because I don't know. It'll be fun and the weather looks good and it'll all prove worthwhile in the end. So that's the good stuff.

And when that's the good stuff and the bad stuff really isn't all that bad then things are OK, right? Well, mostly. See, I realized that my usual traveling companion isn't available - having died sometime in the mid-90's, that makes it difficult for him to tag along on this one. I had an alternative in mind but that didn't pan out, (not a huge surprise, really, but still...), so I'm heading to the Dallas area with my dad.

But like everything else about this story, even that isn't what it seems because legally he's my step-dad. He's all I've got in that department and he's exceeded everything that could have been expected of him and he's always ready to help his family.

THAT'S the good part...

As a public service to those of you whom received a new computer for Christmas, I offer the following:

1. Home is where you hang your @

2. The E-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail.

3. A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.

4. You can't teach a new mouse old clicks.

5. Great groups from little icons grow.

6. Speak softly and carry a cellular phone.

7. C:\ is the root of all directories.

8. Don't put all your hypes in one home page.

9. Pentium wise; pen and paper foolish.

10. The modem is the message.

11. Too many clicks spoil the browse.

12. The geek shall inherit the earth.

13. A chat has nine lives.

14. Don't byte off more than you can view.

15. Fax is stranger than fiction.

16. What boots up must come down.

17. Windows will never cease.

18. In Gates we trust.

19. Virtual reality is its own reward.

20. Modulation in all things.

21. A user and his leisure time are soon parted.

22. There's no place like home.com

23. Know what to expect before you connect.

24. Oh, what a tangled website we weave when first we practice.

25. Speed thrills.

26. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach him to use the Net and he won't bother you for weeks.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

And this [shall be] a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

First off, for those of you with children, you may want to check this out. I know we will...

"Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time." ~Laura Ingalls Wilder

"Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love!" ~Hamilton Wright Mabie

"I sometimes think we expect too much of Christmas Day. We try to crowd into it the long arrears of kindliness and humanity of the whole year. As for me, I like to take my Christmas a little at a time, all through the year. And thus I drift along into the holidays - let them overtake me unexpectedly - waking up some find morning and suddenly saying to myself: 'Why, this is Christmas Day!'" ~David Grayson

"He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree." ~Roy L. Smith

"Christmas is not as much about opening our presents as opening our hearts." ~Janice Maeditere

"Even as an adult I find it difficult to sleep on Christmas Eve. Yuletide excitement is a potent caffeine, no matter your age." ~Carrie Latet

"The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other." ~Burton Hillis

Merry. Christmas...

Some things are just TOO funny to see in print. And some things are just too good that to comment on them would spoil the moment. In the spirit of these things I give you - without comment - this story. Enjoy!

I would like to extend a Hail Fellow Well Met to all of you who sent me you quiz results from last week's little diversion. Well done. As for the rest of you I can only assume that you qualified for the remedial class and were ashamed of your scores.

Tsk tsk.

But as I promised - and only in that spirit and none other - I offer you my results:

One of my favorite sites - you all remember Lumby, right? - has been haunted by an evil troll of late. Now, on the web a troll isn't someone who physically lives under a bridge and demands attention of anyone who passes their way. No, an online troll only lives under a bridge metaphorically and demands attention of anyone who passes their way.

So this demented lefty drops in from time to time, throws a rather non-sensical rhetorical bomb and then runs away - no doubt sure of the utter effectiveness of his "brave" and "courageous" stand against those of us who would argue for a lower marginal tax rate. Yeesh.

But such is the way of the web - what with its vast capacity for complete (or nearly so) anonymity and the ability to hide behind any moniker you can manage to appropriate and misspell. I don't see that changing anytime soon and I'm not completely convinced it should, frankly. This is one of those issues that I feel brings out my inner libertarian...

On the one hand, there's the Über-principle of being held accountable for what you say. I'm a firm believer in this concept and always - short of comic effect, perhaps and then only among friends - sign my comments with my own name and a link to this site whenever possible. It's that important to me.

On the other hand, (the libertarian said), I have very little (READ: no) sympathy for people who "fall prey" to something they saw online or in their email. (Criminey - my on-the-fly spellchecker recognized neither email nor spellchecker; that's a bit like looking in the mirror and asking 'who's that?') I understand that the Interwebs are still new to a certain segment of the population but shouldn't all the old rules still apply? Do these people just give their social security number and bank information to any ol' shmoe who knocks on their door or calls them? Mercy - I should hope not.

I guess it's the "mystique" of the computer that makes it unfamiliar territory for some new users, but still: keep your wits about you, eh? Don't believe everything you read - even if and ESPECIALLY if you see it online or in your email box...

That is all...

OK - I'm scratching this out on what's left of my battery because we've lost power. Not ALL power in the sense that The Wif is bumping into walls in the dark but just power in the one outlet I love the most: the outlet in the bedroom which powers my PC, printer, phone charger and television. THAT outlet.

Still, it's rather fitting in an odd way because this week and next are going to be like that. See, I'll be off from about noon (probably) on Wednesday clear until January 5th. I like the sound of that. Add in christmas, New Year's and a surprise overnight trip to Fort Worth and that spells i-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g. Which it's all sure to be.

See, I won an ebay auction for a large-ish item that went for $730 and I'll have to take my truck and dad (legally my step-father for those of you who would know the difference), deep into the heart of Texas to pick it up. I had originally planned to have the guy store it until February - when I have to go down there anyway - but decided that I really, really want it now. In time for our open house at least.

What is it? Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?

Oh - and our Christmas drama started early. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing or if it just is. But here we are...

I was having a less-than-fun day as it was, (being constantly wrong about everything all the time will do that to you -- I can't wait to get back into the office on Monday morning so I can at least get paid for being unappreciated), and was lying in bed watching the Broncos suck all the life out of the stadium when The Wif left on a mission. She was headed to church to run herd over the hens for our monthly Praise and Potluck, (hey - we're Baptists - what would you expect?), and I was supposed to raise the Knuckleheads from their naps and head up the mountain as well.

Then I got them up. Then I went downstairs. Then I felt and heard a *SQUISH* underfoot as I stepped on the rug in front of the kitchen sink. There's nothing quite like that experience. Nothing. So I emptied the potions and notions and relocated them to the couch. I then had to dry the cabinet because whatever happened it was a pretty good leak.

So while that was drying I decided to re-order the garage, (I'm just not getting enough abuse elsewhere!). I moved weights, swept, emptied shelves and built new ones and moved old ones and filled them back up. Then, while the kids were eating leftover pizza I started examining the plumbing under the sink.

Fortunately I noticed fairly quickly - READ: before I started ripping out pipes - that the drain from the dishwasher had come loose from the disposal. This saved me untold hours of heartbreak because I was ready to start from scratch and was already wondering what closing time was for Home Depot on a Sunday night when all I had to do was re-attach the fitting and tighten the screw until it cried out for help.

Come to think of it, that was too easy, so it's probably NOT our near-annual Christmas catastrophe. Oh goody; something to look forward to.

But I called the Chargers & Broncos games this week so I got that going for me...

This rather hectic week of nearly non-stop birthdays had to come to a close sooner or later and this is it: Happy Birthday, Bonehead. Have a good one - but not a great one...

In a crowded city at a busy bus stop, a beautiful young woman wearing a tight leather skirt was waiting for a bus. As the bus stopped and it was her turn to get on, she became aware that her skirt was too tight to allow her leg to come up to the height of the first step of the bus.

Slightly embarrassed and with a quick smile to the bus driver, she reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little, thinking that this would give her enough slack to raise her leg. She tried to again take the step, only to discover that she couldn't. So, a little more embarrassed, she once again reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little more, and for the second time attempted the step. Once again, much to her embarrassment she could not raise her leg.

With a little smile to the driver, she again reached behind to unzip a little more and again was unable to take the step. About this time, a large guy who was standing behind her picked her up easily by the waist and placed her gently on the step of the bus.

She went ballistic and turned to the would-be Samaritan and screeched, "How dare you touch me! I don't even know you!"

The guy smiled and drawled, "Well, ma'am, normally I would agree with you, but after you unzipped my fly three times, I kind'a figured we were friends."

I have a confession that will surprise exactly nobody: I'm just getting sick to death of those people out there who read the daily newspaper and watch network "news"casts and then consider themselves well informed. NOTHING COULD BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH! The LSM has an agenda and it's readily apparent to anyone with eyes to see and ears to hear!

I'll get back to my original point in a sec, but I first want to propose a test. Since I know that I'll never convince certain of you to turn off the hairdo, the geezer and the bubble-head, just try this little experiment; as you tune in to these dopes just pay attention to what they say - or maybe what they don't say - starting on January 21^st. I guarantee you that you'll suddenly hear that the number of deaths in Iraq is down to 'record low levels,' that the economy is suddenly showing signs of improvement, that unemployment is near all-time lows and that unicorn farms have increased production. Okay -- that last one might take them until March to report, but you get my meaning.

Now just try to prove me wrong. Back to the point...

News of the economic "catastrophe" we're all suffering has invaded all facets of our daily life. Even commercials for the most innocuous of products have been infected with this nonsense, (<Ad Guy>'in these trying economic times - now more than ever - you need to use Prell® shampoo for that shine that says, you've made it' <⁄Ad Guy>), and I'm beyond weary of it.

Now I'm not saying that some of us aren't suffering because someone out there is always suffering some sort of ill fate. And I'm certainly not saying that I'm unsympathetic to said suffering. I'm just sick to death of everyone and everybody talking down the economy. Did you hear the news that "Black Friday" saw an increase over last year's numbers? How about that "Cyber Monday" was also a rousing success? No - they wouldn't dream of letting that news out because it would completely bust their doom and gloom thread.

Based on a sole factor of the Stone Index (I have to find my announcement of that so I can link to it) - the proximity to the store/mall that one is currently able to park - I'd have to say that the economy is booming. The girls went to a chain retailer in our neighborhood last weekend and The Wif reported that she would have had a better parking spot if she'd left her car in the garage and walked there. And she's not alone; just last weekend I was talking with one of you network news viewers (aka last of the dinosaurs), and this person made the exact same observation.

Again, I'm not unsympathetic to those who might have been laid off or for some other reason might be down on their luck right now: I just don't believe it's nearly as widespread as "they" are telling us.

But I will say this in closing, (Thank Heavens!): I am far less sympathetic to those people who find themselves in foreclosure than I am to those who have kept up with their payments, met their obligations and now can't sell their house because a) the glut of properties on the market currently or b) they can't get enough from the sale to make the deal worthwhile. I'm not sorry, but the people who stand up, man up and do the right thing will always find more favor with me than those short-sighted people who willingly and knowingly signed up for a loan with outrageous terms and a payment of half their take-home pay.

You know - people who shouldn't own a home. There are some, you know...

Just a quickie before I turn in for the night. A little pop quiz for a cold and lonely Thursday. The subject? Civics.

Like always - you show me yours and I'll show you mine...

With the football season winding down it's curious how many people are in a rush to make predictions as to the final outcomes. But it's not so crowded that I feel I should stay away, so here goes:

As I write this the AFC East has a three-way tie for first with the Jets, Dolphins and Patriots all at 9 and 5. Mind you, there are still 2 games left so someone could realistically open up a decent gap if all goes well and I'm going to say that 'someone' is the Jets. Yes, even though Buffalo trails the other three - AND will likely get healthy this week against Denver - I'm thinking that the haggard old soldier will be able to get his new green team to the top.

And once that happens I'm betting (not literally, natch), that the Colts and the Patriots will be the wild cards for the AFC.

As for our more immediate concern, Denver's fate is in their own hands - which means they're pretty well screwed. At least if history is to be any guide. I don't know if it's true throughout the NFL, but my beloved Bronc's seem to manage to play to the level of their competition; winning against teams that seem to be far better than them and losing to soup cans that shouldn't be sharing the field.

My guess? San Diego will win this week and Denver will lose. This will put Denver just one game up going into the last week where they will play... -- ... San Diego. If San Diego wins that game, (in golf it's called a 'gimme'), they will take the division title on tie breakers. Bank on it, people...

Some years ago, when the NFC North was struggling I read someone who said that the only reason any of the teams would win at all is because they all have to play each other twice. It's a sentiment I agree with - but with only a minor change; the teams of the AFC West are assured at least two wins because they all get to play Denver. Either get Kubiak back or make Shanahan head talent scout. Perhaps both. Just do something.

As for the NFC, who cares? For years they were the tougher conference and it took a Namath or Bradshaw to break through their dominance, but with the new free agent rules the league has pretty well reached parity in the last decade plus.

Oh, OK: Giants & Colts in the Super Bowl. A head-to-head brother-against-brother that will cause advertising costs to triple overnight.

I've long understood the potential of the Internet and I'm glad to see that it's starting to get within visual range of it. (Just you wait, baby!) For now, what it does it does exceptionally well; webcams from across the globe instantly available on your desk, the latest, greatest, most technologically advanced weather guesses at your fingertips, commerce by the bucketsfull -- but what it seems to do best is exactly what the experts feared it would complicate: promote human interaction.

Thanks to Facebook, MySpace and yes, even Twitter, a person can go online, sign up and instantly find long-lost friends from wherever they may be around the world. Add in instant messaging, online direct contact, email, biography pages... and you can pick up as if you'd been talking all this time.

But, sometimes the connections come from where you'd least expect it; as I mentioned, the paper ran one of my submissions and an old friend apparently saw the article - complete with the pic of my ugly mug - and decided to check out what I was doing online. Then she commented on it and clearly identified herself. Wow.

I can't even tell you when I last saw her, but I know her son was just a little guy at the time. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's in high school by now. But find out I will...

Speaking of sons, yesterday and today are two of the more fun days I have all year long because I get to say, "today is my son's birthday and tomorrow is my son's birthday." Guaranteed double-take from anyone unfamiliar with the situation. I then hear things like, "was he born exactly at midnight?" or, "was there an error on a birth certificate?" I love playing with small toys...

Happy Birthday, Bink. I'll never forget the first time I laid eyes on you; you were wearing a white 'onesie,' sucking on a binky and sitting in the middle of the floor in a gubermint office. You were so small that the binky covered most of the bottom half of your face; your entire body was no larger than that of an average Thanksgiving turkey. And WHAT a metaphor - because you honestly can be a turkey sometimes. I know that this comes from your intense desire to see things put right and back where they belong and just exactly - perfectly - as you want them.

I'll have to work on that with you...

As you turn 3 I have to tell you that you generally seem to be a black-or-white creature, and not just in your orderliness; you currently have 2 main speeds - manic, shouting comic with the world at his feet or nearly-insufferable baby who isn't getting his way. Don't get me wrong - they both have their charm; I just wish you'd put in the clutch more often when switching between the two.

I have to say that the rarely shown 'middle ground' has to be my favorite; when you're up for doing the goofball dance or mugging for Daddy. When you can laugh at yourself or at me - even if you're not quite sure WHY it's funny, you just know that it is.

Like your brother you have a natural athletic ability that can be kind of scary in a child your age, but you're not nearly as driven by it. At least not at 3 years old. I noted early on that you also have an uncanny knack for rhythm, (one of your first nick-names was "Ringo"), and I hope that Santa brings you a Binky-sized drum kit this year. Heaven knows you could make it sing.

For as long as God gives me, I will be here for you, your brother and sister. As your Father first and foremost but certainly always as a steady shoulder and an open ear.

I love you. Happy Birthday, son.

It's days like this that frost my arse - in more ways than one. I mean, as if it's not bad enough that the day starts with a temperature that has a little dash in front of it, I then have to deal with any number of brain-dead morons who have decided that snow, packed snow and black ice on the roads is NO REASON to do any less than 10 over the prescribed speed limit...

Depending on the route I take, (READ: whether I have time to stop at Burger King for breakfast on my way in), I am faced with several impressive hills, as far as suburban hills go, on my way into the office. Add in the aforementioned hazards and it gets real interesting, real fast.

Since I've recently spent over six grand getting my truck back on the road - AND am finally paying a downright comfortable insurance premium - I have NO interest in allowing myself to bash into anything. Short of one of the idiots that was behind me this morning:

I'm going down a hill on Ward Road which is proving to be rather slick. Additionally, there's a red light smack at the bottom of said hill so I see absolutely no reason to be in a hurry to get to the bottom. As I'm surveying my circumstance I notice a dodge product (*HISS*) in my mirror. And by "notice" I mean that this guy is climbing up my tailpipe. Well, my truck's tailpipe - not my own per se.

As I'm watching this guy his dodge P.O.S. starts to sway and waver all across the lane - and THEN HE YELLS AT ME and flashes me the universal "you're #1" symbol! WHAT?!? Here's this driver who is obviously operating well above his mental capacity already, mad at me because he's following me too closely -- and then he proves why I'm taking it easy by sliding all over the road!

I'm sure the whole thing was lost on him: too subtle...

Thing is, if he were the only one I would just write it off as an anomaly or perhaps severe brain damage on the part of one individual; but it happened on EVERY hill I encountered. People who - for whatever reason - thought that the laws of physics and inertia didn't apply to them. A very large part of me wanted to just get out of their way and let them discover the sad truth for themselves - and then honk at the steaming wreckage as I drove by - but I just couldn't do that.

After all, if you let the whole of the population pass you you'll never make it into work...

This was passed on to me by a reader, (thanks, MMMSS!), I've checked it out and it's definitely worth the (little) time and (little) effort you put into it; Let's Say Thanks -dot- com is a website put together by Xerox where you can send a message of thanks on a card to our troops serving protecting us in hostile lands. You know -- HEROES.

You go to the site, pick out a card, (designed by school kids), and then you can select a message from several suggestions or create a greeting of your own. That's it. Xerox does the rest and an American soldier, sailor, airman or marine will receive your card, complete with your message of thanks.

Just take a second to think about all they're doing for us and it shouldn't be all that difficult to visit the site for a minute or two. GO! NOW!!

I actually took this idea just a little bit further and while I was recently addressing Christmas cards I took one, wrote, "Thank you for keeping them safe" across the front of the card beneath the pictures of our kids and sent it to President George Bush - C/O that big White House out east. It is my most earnest prayer that I'm able to do the same for #44 in four or eight years...

And, last but far from least - Happy Birthday, D-Man. My left-handed right hand son and absolute miracle in my life, you never fall short of making things interesting. Not that that's always a good thing, but it usually is. You have - from a very early age - demonstrated a sense of humor based on your unique ability to simply not care too much about too much. Again, not always a good thing, but it's YOUR thing.

I look forward to watching you play hockey, football, baseball - or just throwing a frisbee around with friends. You are a natural athlete and I hope you'll forgive me if I fall short in bringing out all of your vast potential. I also hope that while I insist on being your Father first, that you'll always be able to talk to me as if I were a friend.

I love you. Happy Birthday son.

Today we take a brief pause to send out happy birthday wishes to my little niece, Chucky. Of course Chucky isn't her real name, just the nick-name given to her by my brother and sister-in-law. Apparently she runs toward the evil, destructive side of the force. I wouldn't know because I've never even laid eyes on her and the way things are going I may not until her wedding. And of course you're all familiar with the "second child" syndrome: there are books and books and posters and murals of the first child but eventually the novelty wears off and the parents end up taking two Chicklet®-sized shots of the following children and call it good.

That's what I suppose was so different for us: we got all 3 kids at the same time so the camera is pretty much always running. Which is not to say that I've been Johnny on the spot at updating the kids' pics online, (yes, I've heard your muttering), just that I've continued to take pictures at every opportunity. When the children are famous they will at least be used to all the flash photography.

Anyway, I do hope that they can make it out for Christmas this year. Or perhaps Groundhog's Day or Arbor Day or Something next year; I'd like to meet little Chucky...

See, she's a miracle baby. Born so premature that nobody gave her much of a chance to survive, she fought and fought and decided that she was going to prove everybody wrong. A true Stone, in other words. Luckily, (if you believe in such things), my brother is a U.S. Navy officer and as such had access to one of the world's premier preemie programs. She pulled through (obviously) and has been raising Hell ever since.

Now you know why I'm so eager to meet her! Happy Birthday Grace Chucky. Keep on keeping them on their toes...

Speaking of Birthdays, December and April are tied as the Most Populated Month in our family; four in April and four in December. The funny part is that I think we're more likely to have snow on the April days, but that's just conjecture because Heaven forbid I'd have to do some actual research.

As I mentioned, today is my niece's birthday. Tomorrow is D-Man's, Wednesday is The Binkenheimer's and Friday is Aunt Bonehead's. Busy week, but not as busy as Sunday was because that's when we had the party.

When I asked The Wif who had been invited she said, "Jews and Phews," which summed it up pretty well - at least for me. This meant I needed to get some (kosher) cows in a blanket, assemble a fruit salad and put veggies on a platter while The Wif went out and secured 30 boneless chicken wings with assorted sauces and fries. That was the easy part.

What proved slightly more difficult was maintaining a tenuous grip on my sanity while 8 kids ranging from 2 to 11 had the run of the house; D-Man kept asking if he could open presents whereas The Bink simply started when nobody was looking. "M" insisted on being first to smack the pinata even though it wasn't her party. The Wif wanted to do the pinata in the garage but I thought that having all those kids scamper for candy on the cold, dirty, wet concrete slab wasn't the best option. So we did it in the "living" room right in front of the tree.

I don't think we lost any ornaments and my Jewish nephew replaced one of them on the tree after it had been knocked off by an errant swing. Not bad for a guy who never had any practice at it!

Well, it's Friday and ANOT, I really feel as if I've earned this extended weekend; long hours checking out weird stuff and covering sites I normally don't - not to mention having to eat dinner with The Knuckleheads - has worn me to the bone. Well, not literally but you get what I mean.

Add to all that the fact that I had to compose, order, envelope, (everyone else gets to turn nouns into verbs, why not me?), address and include the annual letter into our Christmas cards and I had a pretty busy week. Actually, it's not over yet because I haven't written the bloody letter yet. And there will be an invite to our Open House on the backside, so be sure to turn it over when you finally get it.

Crud. I gotta write THAT, too! Better get crackin'...

Oh, but before I jot off the Joke I feel like letting everyone out there know that my post-Thanksgiving post made it into the newspaper this week. It's been an interesting transition, this move to the burbs and it's been especially manifest in the fact that this is only the 2^nd submission to the paper that's actually made it into the dead tree version. And not because of run-on sentences like that last one.

When I wrote for the Evergreen section I would reliably make it into print about once every 6 weeks or so. And while it's true that the Arvada section has many more bloggers that certainly isn't the reason why I've been left out. In fact, the local editors here seem oblivious to the fact that the section in question is closely tied to the web submissions because they almost never feature ANY blogger.

Of course, they seem to change editors more often than D-Man changes socks so maybe they just can't agree on a common course. I'd blame "old media" but most of the editors have been young pups; you can't tell me they're not on Facebook.

Ah, well. I'll plug along here and continue there and tweet when I can and the cards will go out on Friday and somewhere along the way our gutters will be bedecked with a multitude of C9 lights. After all, I'm the Dad. It's what I do.

Oh - and one more thing <⁄Columbo>. A friend and colleague of mine is going under the knife -- if they haven't already. There will be pins and fusing of joints and a long recovery and possibly some physical therapy. Any prayers would be gratefully appreciated. By both of us. Thank you.

J.O.T.W.
And now... in honor of The Knuckleheads' favorite question: "Why?"

If it's tourist season, why can't we shoot them?

How do they get a deer to cross at that yellow road sign?

Why do they sterilize the needles for lethal injections?

Why is abbreviation such a long word?

Why do cannibals eat clowns? Don't they taste funny?

Why do you need a driver's license to buy liquor when you can't drink and drive?

Why isn't phonetic spelled the way it sounds?

Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?

If a 7-11 is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, why are there locks on the doors?

If nothing ever sticks to TEFLON, how do they make TEFLON stick to the pan?

If you're in a vehicle going the speed of light, what happens when you turn on the headlights?

Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?

Why is it that when you transport something by car, it's called a shipment, but when you transport something by ship, it's called cargo?

You know that little indestructible black box that is used on planes, why can't they make the whole plane out of the same substance?

Why did kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Wow. Let me just say that there are times you feel like you should do something and times when you feel obligated to do something. This falls somewhere in the middle of those two.

It seems that one of my favorite daily reads has named me as an accomplice in the vast right-wing conspiracy "like minded revolutionary." This is a bit awkward because I've always considered myself a reactionary rather than a revolutionary...

See, in order to be a revolutionary you have to get up every day with the goal of advancing some new, perhaps unpopular idea. Seems like too much work to me, frankly. But to be a reactionary one need only wait until some pinhead pops up with some hair-brained idea and then rhetorically smack them over the head with a hammer like some fantasy "Whack-A-Mole" game. Years ago this was simply called being a curmudgeon.

I'd like to think I'm carrying on that fine tradition. Still, it was pretty cool that I made the Lumberjack's list and I'll try to live up to what should be rather low expectations of me.

Bad news for those of you who come here ONLY to read about "M's" latest vexing of me or The Knuckleheads' chronic misadventures. Maybe this will prompt me to update my newspaper stuff more often. ('Tis the season for miracles, Theo!)

There's been some chatter about Senate seats lately and it certainly got heated up this week. What amazed me the most is that people in my office - people who consider themselves "informed" (read: lefties) - had no idea what had happened in Illinois. But we'll get to that in a sec...

One of the better side effects of the opposition party taking power is that they take party faithful away from their seats in the Senate and Governorships in order to build their cabinet and staff. Now, they're certainly not stupid and aren't going to take a party loyalist out of a position only to have them replaced by a member of the other party, but at least we can get some new blood in there, right?

To this end, it's been floated that Caroline Kennedy would be named to fill Billary's vacant Senate seat. Granted, there are certain improvements that would be noted immediately:

Shouldn't she have to START somewhere? School board? State House? Mayor? SOMETHING other than simply being given a spot in the upper chamber? I mean, if people were all up in arms because Sarah was "unqualified," how much more so is caroline? She gets a Senate seat because the stack of dead Kennedy's is up to her arm pits? Mercy - I hope not. She should at least BUY the seat...

Which brings us to the obvious: the Illinois Governor is arrested, (no, the current one - this ain't no history lesson, Bubba!), for trying to "sell" the little o's vacant Senate seat. I know, I know -- nobody is ever going to believe that there's a crooked politician in Illinois, but it really happened. This Bozo was trying to get a cabinet post or an ambassadorship for himself and a position as board director for his wife (where she would earn at least 150,000 -- that's more than I make in a week!) and if worst came to worst he'd simply appoint himself as Senator. So in effect the Senate seat was kind of his booby prize; no wonder he couldn't get anything for it!

While that's bad enough he's sunk even lower, once threatening to withhold funds from a Children's Hospital unless they ponied up with a generous campaign donation. Nice guy, huh? And according to the transcripts I've seen, his wife is a real charmer, too; mouth of a teamster, attitude of a succubus. It was - apparently - a match made at Three Mile Island.

Now, I have to tread lightly here because I don't want to shock any of you obamanauts out there, but there's more than enough circumstantial evidence that The One knew about Blago's attempts to auction off the Senate seat. The little o must've been approached about Blago wanting a cabinet post in exchange for appointing The One's choice, because HE TURNED DOWN THE OFFER! Just think about that for a second; how do you turn down an offer you know nothing about?

This thing stinks. Get used to it - the guy isn't even in office yet...

I've kept pretty quiet about all the so-called "bailout" plans for one simple reason: it's an utterly ridiculous notion. Seriously: the gubermint could do nothing, let the banks and auto companies go into bankruptcy which would precipitate a managerial shake-up and - in the case of the auto companies - free them from overwhelming union contracts which would in turn lead to a sell off of assets, a streamlining of efforts and a return to profitability. OR, we could take billions and billions of taxpayer money and pump it into these failed enterprises in order to allow the same managers who got them into this mess to stay at the helm.

Of course the dems are going to choose the latter; Hell, that's their business model for staying in office!

Oh well. At least we're sure that the money is going to be used for its intended purpose instead of jetting congressmen across the globe on "fact-finding" missions, right?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAAAAA!!!! *WHEW!* That was a good one!

As for the recession, you can have it; I refuse to participate. It's that simple. I'm simply NOT going to be involved. The troubled credit card companies might raise your interest rates, you might decide to spend less on Christmas this year, cancel travel plans, whatever. Not me, not us. We're living our lives just like we would under any other circumstance. Better, in fact...

The Wif and I started and finished our Christmas shopping last Saturday night. Now I don't know if it was the dire, "crack each other's heads open and feast on the goo inside" news reports we're all subject to, (scheduled to end on 1/20/09), or just that fact that it was Saturday night and everyone had something better to do, but the stores were practically empty!

We went to Tar-ghetto, Wally World and Toys B Expensive and didn't have to wait in line for more than 90 seconds at any of them. Moreover, the aisles were so barren that we didn't once have to wait around while some woman took 4 minutes deciding between peanut and dark chocolate M&M's® while blocking the way with her cart and screaming little brat! It was great!

We got what was on our list, (with 2 exceptions and I ordered them from Amazon as soon as we got home), and didn't stop to count the cost. In fact, things are going so well for us that The Wif spent $180 on my gift -- something she hasn't done since she bought me a table saw about 6 years ago.

And did I mention that I filled my tank today? From low fuel light to overflowing for $43 dollars. They're UN-screwing us!

(I made note of filling my tank somewhere else but I'll be danged if I can find it. If I already mentioned it here, I apologize)

Recession? It's all yours, mate.

As noted on Twitter, (have you checked it out?), we're refinancing our mortgage. This will be the first time in at least 3 loans that I think I'll walk away without feeling totally screwed. Between MI, high fees and that horrible 80/20 loan krep I always woke up a couple of days later feeling like somebody owed me dinner and a drink.

But this time we're moving from a 6.83% to a 5.5% loan which will translate to a monthly savings of about $180. Add to that the fact that I just now changed my withholding to reflect the 3 extra deductions we get to claim this year and I'm thinking I may be able to get into an XM Radio. We'll see how it shakes out and eventually I'm going to have to set up and fund an orthodontia account, but why not enjoy it for a year or two?

Our appraisal will probably be on Friday and we're already looking to close on the 19^th. (Oh - and that's another thing: why does the lender appoint the appraiser? Does this seem like a conflict of interest to anyone else? I mean, if the property comes in low and the appraiser is honest with the lender about it, he's not likely to see much more business from them and if the property comes in just above the 20% equity line he'll feel pressured to drop it so the lender can charge MI. This thing stinks from every angle. Of course, it's not likely to change any time soon. It just makes my butt itch.) The further good news is that we'll get to skip January's payment. That'll come in handy when all those credit card bills from Christmas start rolling in.

HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! MAN - two in one day! I'd better stop while I'm ahead...

So for a Monday today was awfully Wednesday-ish; The Wif's gift arrived at the local Wally World ahead of schedule, the boys' gifts shipped this morning and I'll get The Dark Knight tomorrow in my mailbox (courtesy of The Netflix). Heck, I even filled my tank - FILLED mind you, from low fuel light to bursting at the seams - for $43. Life is good!

Too good, I thought. Something's going to happen. There's another shoe out there and it has my name on it...

Flash forward. The Wif is doing this week's homework with M and reviewing last week's school work when she notices a problem. That is, several math problems she got wrong and had to go back and correct. And when I say several, I mean something like 1/3 of the total sheet. ALL of one row and many from two others, (one went unscathed). When The Wif asked her about it, she said she had copied from trevor baskin.

Trevor. Flippin'. Baskin. Again...

First andrew and now trevor. I swear, this girl is so boy crazy she makes lindsay lohan look like a cloistered nun. Thank God we are still able to avoid the alcohol/drug complications!

So she and Mommy had a little talk and then she and Daddy had a BIG talk. First and foremost I pointed out to her that when she corrected the problems she got them all correct and when she copied from that little idiot trevor she missed a ton of 'em. I asked her what that told her:

"That I shouldn't be cheating?" she said.

Well, I explained that we'd get to that in due time but what it showed was that she was smarter than the little twerp in question, (classic answer of the night - "why were you copying from him?" "Because he has good answers." 'Good' in this case apparently does not mean 'right'), and she should rely on her own mind rather than copying from someone who's not as smart as she is.

I hope the lesson she took away was not, 'copy from someone smart' but I think we covered that in part II.

Further, I tried to show her that when she copies from (wavy lines, please) trevor baskin (thank you), or votes the way he does simply so she can do what might please him she makes herself look like the brainless, stupid girl: "I've got to do what the boys do!" Sort of the modern-day "math class is tough!" in my very own home. yay.

Part II was the usual, 'cheating is stealing,' 'cheating is wrong,' 'how can we work on what YOU need to know when I've got trevor's paper here?' and the like. I think she got it, but we'll see. I also threatened to have her moved to another class, but I'm sure she'll just go ga-ga over some other little organ bank. I guess I'll stick with the devil I know - so to speak.

But what I think - nay, hope - really stung her is when I told her to stop acting like trevor's puppy; following him around, obeying his commands and doing what he tells her to. She's better than that.

I only hope I can convince her of that fact...

If you checked out Twitter then you have some idea of what I went through this weekend; 7 year old girls birthday party, for a start. Screechy girls and utterly obnoxious boys. The parents of the birthday girl were cool - meeting them was a pleasure and they were certainly gracious hosts as well as able to efficiently run a birthday party. A grand time was had by most.

The highlight of the party for me -- well, let's backup a bit: the penultimate highlight of the party for me was when one of the little boys, (the loudest and most active of the group), turned around to me and said, "you remember when I called you?"

ANDREW! Somehow, I knew we'd meet again...

At the official end of the party - to be followed by the unofficial watching of "Kung Fu Panda" - we had to leave on a mission. The 3 boys had been de facto banished to the basement but when they heard the little hens-to-be saying, "Goodbye, M," they all rushed upstairs. Where the girls gave my daughter tepid, half-hugs the boys - to a lad - were rather enthusiastic in their efforts. Led by, you guessed it, Andrew.

The highlight? After groping my daughter he walked past me, smacked me on the ribs and said, "see ya', bud" -- LIKE WE WERE GOING GOLFING TOMORROW OR SOMETHING!! I swear, I'm glad I don't have that kid's nerve in my tooth. Previews of what's to come, I'm afraid...

After the party we went to a hotel liquidator store in search of a king size box spring. I had planned to set up the new bed frame, (because I was sick to death of seeing it leaned up against the wall downstairs), and to do so we'd need a box spring. Care to guess the result of our trip? Yep, two gallons of gas burned for naught because they don't sell just the box springs. BUT! Their entire king bed set sells for just $299, "which is less than you'll pay for just the box spring." Yeah, great. Then I've got to store a king mattress and I barely have room for our Christmas decorations. Wonderful plan there, Bif.

After leaving there we dropped by the Habitat for Humanity thrift store, (Yes, I know who founded the place) with a similar result. Except we didn't wait around to hear the same thing and beat feet out of there.

Once home M and I broke down the old bed and while she packed a bag to spend the night at Grandma's I started carrying up bed parts. Side rails, under-rails and even the footboard went off without a hitch. Then, the headboard. What a monster:

It fought me at every step (literally) but it's up here, assembled and ready for my sorry carcass to climb in. OH - and if the headboard doesn't look all that big in that picture it's because the Craigslist Queen (a.k.a. The Wif) found two twin box springs practically in our neighborhood and picked them up today. They're already in place and the bed is roughly 3 feet above the ground.

The Wif is going to have to climb a step ladder to get into bed! I'd like to think the fact that the bed is taller than The Bink might keep him off it as well, but I know that kid:

He's very resourceful. The Wif could learn a thing or two from him...

Man am I glad THAT'S over. Well, actually it's not because I still have to get through today - and it's looking pretty grim from here - but at 4 this afternoon I'll be free!

Yeah, free to put up lights in the freezing cold, shop for a birthday present for "M" to take to a party she may not get to... You know, life. Ah well, this is what I signed up for -- all the way 'round -- right? I'll quit complaining. For now.

Dear Sir McCartney: I hate to be a bad sport but I've got some news for you: if "the children" practiced "their song" "all year long," and the only lyrics are "Ding Dong/Ding Dong/Ding Dong" they must be attending some sort of special school. Just so you know.

Did I mention that I'm Twittering now? Maybe you should see a doctor about that. Shut up, you. If you don't already know what that is you probably don't WANT to know. But you're going to find out anyway.

Twitter is a website where you can sign up and then "micro-blog." I know, I know, most of you are so sick of my crap that you've already stopped reading, Then who are you talking to? I told you to shut up, but this is pretty cool stuff. In 140 characters or less you get to say what you're doing, make (brief) social commentary, "follow" friends and the famous, (this means that what THEY type ends up on your summary page) and be followed by friends and the not-so-famous.

It's really cool stuff and certainly cutting edge technology. Heck, I can even tweet (that's what a Twitter message is called) from my cell! But I didn't sign up to tweet; I signed up to follow The Master on yet another medium. Heck, I'd read his grocery lists.

Well, now I have a "follower" and I feel a certain obligation to overwhelm this person with as much useless information about my life as possible. You know - just in case they're not reading this site.

At any rate, if you spend as much time on the computer as I do seek professional help. If you spend slightly less, you might want to check it out.

J.O.T.W. A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her small daughter was very sick with a fever. She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication.

She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys in the car. She didn't know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened.

The baby sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, "You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door."

The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been left on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time had locked their keys in their car.

She looked at the hanger and said, "I don't know how to use this."

She bowed her head and asked God to send her help. Within five minutes a beat up old motorcycle pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head.

The woman thought, "This is what you sent to help me?" But, she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.

The man got off of his cycle and asked if he could help. She said, "Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car.

I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?

He said, "Sure." He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was opened.

She hugged the man and through her tears she said, "Thank You So Much! You are a very nice man."

The man replied, "Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour."

The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud, "Oh, thank you, God, You even sent me a Professional!"

"Hope" we were promised. "Change" he said. "Empty slogans from an ambitious Chicago politician" I said. Let's review: Clinton and their retreads back in the White House; keeping Gates on as SecDef pretty much promises a continuation of the current Iraq strategy; Richardson back in the cabinet. Geez, all we need is stephanopolus as press secretary (although I doubt he'd take the pay cut) and a stained blue dress and you could just re-play the tapes from 1992!

I guess SOMEONE was right...

But I do have to admit to being slightly less worried than I was a month ago. After all, this guy seems to be nothing more than a reed in the wind so maybe he can be swayed with the hope of winning a second term. Then again, with reid (I just caught that homonym and I'm not about to change it) and pelosi running Congress he'll certainly feel a great deal of party pressure to sign all kinds of wacky stuff that they're sure to pass.

But we'll see when we see, right?

The funniest part of the appointments that have been announced thus far is the reaction of the hard left who worked so hard to get this guy elected. I can hear the barking moonbats of moveon and acorn saying to themselves, "all that illegal fundraising for THIS?!?" I hear that the dailykookz and huffpo folks have lost their minds, but I'm not about to go check out their sites because I prefer to be driven crazy by my boys.

It's not really a surprise, given all the pre-election hype and the swooning done by so many gullible types out there. I mean, expectations were set so high that the first time he didn't ride in on a unicorn announcing a cure for cancer, free cable for everyone and the banning of Fox News, people were bound to be disappointed. Seriously - it's so bad that one of the LSMers actually said that the attacks in India surprised him because after we elected The One this sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen any more.

This is going to be fun on a whole mess of levels. Right up until troop withdrawl retreat and April 15th.

About the attacks in Mumbai; there's so much to comment on that I guess I just haven't gotten around to it. First off, it's incredibly painful to hear about and my heart goes out to the families. Such a stupid, senseless, pointless attack just because those people don't pray how some brainwashed fanatics think they should. How sad.

And why don't we hear said religion of these evil predators? And why are they called, "militants" or "youth" by the media? Is the word 'terrorist' too strong for a group of... of... terrorists who kill men, women and children in cold blood?

And let's remember that we're talking about "rising tensions" between two nuclear nations. The world is facing not only a local nuclear "exchange" but a near-certain domino effect that could become something MUCH larger. How would that be reported - as a "little oopsie?"

Pray for those families. Please. It's something we can't possibly imagine and with some luck and Grace won't ever have to.

Ahhhhh, my Wif. Always willing to lend a hand to the cause of breaking my back and sometimes my budget. God love her...

We now have a king size bed frame for our bed. How do I know it's for our bed? Well the answer is obvious to everyone but her. Of course, it's currently sitting in pieces in our entryway -- so be sure to call before you stop by so I can further rearrange the parts to let you in the door. Because it's going to kill me to get it up the stairs.

See, she's a craigslist Queen; that's her entertainment since she can't work the DVD in order to watch her Netflix selections. So she spends much of her free time browsing for whatever piece of furniture she feels we're currently lacking. Most of it very heavy. And most of it in Parker.

For those of you unfamiliar with Colorado terrain, Parker is roughly 8 MILLION miles from our house and almost impossible to get to from here. You have to take side roads, highways, tollways and wagon trails just to get into the place. Once there you have to dodge buffalo, caribou and the ghost of wild Bill Hickock just to make your way through the streets of what they call a "town."

In short, you need to be driving the Mystery Machine in order to secure a successful journey...

But that's not the best part. She also makes sure that every piece of furniture she's sent me after weighs approximately as much as our attic. Well, except for a corner hutch that only weighed about 25 pounds and I was able to carry out with one hand. BOY am I going to pay for THAT for quite some time!

But that's not the best part. The BEST part is that tonight she took my truck into Highlands Ranch, (not quite to Parker, which is probably why I didn't have to go), in order to buy the bed frame. Once there, she bought and helped to load the thing, then called me to say that we got it for "one hundred dollars less than expected!"

WHAAAA?!? I would've lost a month's wages betting that she told me the thing was only $30 and that was why it was such a great deal! Now I hear that it was MORE than $100 and we're happy we got it for just that? This thing is a mess, but one thing I know for sure: The Wif got more than one hundred from the ATM and now she's holding the rest. More investigation is required...

The penultimate best thing is that as I unloaded the weighty furniture from the bed of my truck to the (eventual - but we'll get to that) bed of my room, I asked The Wif where it should go. She asked, "you mean now?"

...

...

(the mind boggles. Give me a minute...)

...

"Well," I said, "I suspect it could eventually end up in The Knuckleheads' room so that they could gain some practice in preparing firewood. Or perhaps we could put it in "M's" room in order to improve her gymnastic skills by forcing her to walk on the walls or ceiling...

"YES I MEAN NOW! I ACCIDENTALLY HAPPEN TO KNOW THE LOCATION OF THE HOME'S ONLY KING-SIZED BED!!"

"Oh, well just put it in the entryway," she said. Which is how I ended up carrying a heavy bedframe in through the front door at 9:45 tonight. She's honed her skills. I'll have to be careful...

Tonight also marks an interesting occasion: We have a World War I Flying Ace stationed outside our gate. In a bizarre turn of events - and blasphemy against Canon - his Sopwith Camel is decorated with Christmas lights. This is a turn towards the dark side, what with the mixed allusions and all, but I think I can live with it. After all, a little Snoopy is better than none.

Besides, he's only four feet tall, right up against the gate and partially obscured by the world's ugliest trailer. But the kids love it, so what else matters?

In further Holiday news, I finally finished lighting the tree last night. I'm estimating the light count at approximately 1100, but the cards should show that. Oh yeah - the cards; tonight we (the kids) put enough ornaments on the lower half of the tree (it's progress!) that I was able to snap about 150 pics of them against it. The Wif chose 2 that were suitable.

Should'a gone for 500...

HER plan is to get them dressed up in shirts, ties and sweaters and then take pics of them standing in front of the tree holding first-edition Dickens' while inspecting the sinuses of the next tallest child. I guess that would leave Bink with the dirtiest job, right?

At any rate, as with any clash of cultures the one who controls the technology wins, right? And guess who will be submitting the pictures to make the cards? That's right, yours truly.

So if you see a card featuring 3 kids and ties and a beautiful little girl in a full skirt, you'll know I've made a wise decision.

And kept the PJs pic for myself...

Ah, yes. Back to the grind. As many of you no doubt figured out, I took some time off last week - both from the office and from this site. Things just fell right and with the Holiday, my regular day off and the weekends I got 9 days away from gubermint servers for the mere cost of 3 days of leave. Pretty sly, eh?

Of course, like most of my cunning plans it wasn't thought out all that well: combining my scheduled day off with leave makes for a great way to store up the annual hours, but it leaves me returning to work facing a full, 5 day work week. (5 days?!? That's barbaric! How do you mortals do it?) And if the other 4 go like today did I'll quit and go to work at the neighborhood Ace...

First off, no matter how many days I take, as an IT geek I always face about a ton and a half of emails. I get the usual chatter amongst the teams members regarding all the emergencies I missed, the occasional joke and office banter that's about as relevant as the latest buggy-whip designs that I suspect litter most people's inboxes. But I'm special! Once IT vendors get your contact information you're constantly bombarded with offers, unwanted newsletters and updates about technology you're never going to get within 100 miles of using.

Additionally, I got on somebody's list and used to receive notices every time any server nationwide hiccups. I may still be getting those notices but simply be blind to them now. I certainly hope so. Add to that the network speed and time it takes to download those messages and you have a pretty good idea how my morning went. Add an unexpected power outage and server crash for the afternoon and it pretty much sums up my Monday. Bloody Monday.

Welcome back, indeed.

The snow this weekend (and this morning) was like a supermodel; lovely to behold but a pain to deal with. Actually, I think I'm just getting old and even slightly more curmudgeoney, but I think most of you have suspected that for a long time. Part of what I'm facing is that I have to go up on the roof of my car hole and bring down the large, inflatable Thanksgiving turkey I placed up there a month ago or so. No snow at that time. Nope - nary a sign. I believe I put it up there in a T-shirt even. Unfortunately I'm going to need to borrow hiking gear to get it down.

Aaaannnnndddd, I would really like to put up some Christmas inflatables. Not on the roof, mind you. I may have learned THAT lesson. I would also like to get up some old-fashioned C9 Christmas lights before Valentine's Day. None of those wimpy LED lights or even C7's: Give me C9's or give me a dark home!

Words to live by.

Thanksgiving was grand - thanks for asking. Since I had that long stretch of time "off" it basically fell to me to prepare the feast and I did probably 95% of it: everything except the cranberries and the rolls, (and I even bought some rolls lest we run out). Yep, full feast PLUS treats and cookies a'la Daddy. And everyone's still alive.

Actually, it was a pretty short list: her mom, my mom and three holy little terrors. Mine. Things went well but the very, very best part came on Friday morning. See, I left The Wif asleep on the couch Thursday night and put the kids to bed on my own. In return, on Friday morning she did something she almost never does:

She got up with the kids and let me sleep in. (I get up on my Fridays "off" and on Saturdays so she can sleep in and get a long, hot shower.) Shocking, I know!

Repeat once more for Friday night/Saturday morning and I was feeling positively royal. Then on Saturday night The Wif was going to a henning with the kids and I was expected to tag along. Then an unexpected cancellation and sickness left me alone - at home - for about 4 hours while they went and did their thing! GLORIOUS!

Give a little, get a lot. What a great life...

(I'm going to try and update the other site with some brief information about the search for my long-lost daughter. I still get a lunch break and I intend to use it!) :-)