TERROR ALERT LEVEL:

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November 2009
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Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

Things to put in your head...

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Read on his terms...
Lileks

Stuff for your ears...

 

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OK. So there's more going on here than I can possibly explain and still have time to sleep in order to prepare to do it. Make sense? Good. Or rather, I hope it does. And if so, I'd appreciate an explanation, because I'm totally lost...

For those of you left wondering, NO! we haven't a fourth child. All the news we've received from that end is good - child is healthy, happy and gaining weight - which is a bit more scary in the end if you ask me. But who ever does? Still, we'll deal with that when we deal with that, right?

The Christmas Emergency this year was a dead garage door. I mean, there's always something, right? It just seems that most years it seems to surround plumbing; after all, that was the main curse as we entered our previous house and it continued to haunt us for years afterward. And especially at those times of year when you'd rather be doing anything else. In fact, I'm wearing a shirt from one of our Christmas Eve plumbing "episodes" which has white spots where it was bleached out by the chemicals, but is otherwise still wearable.

OH - but the garage door. Right. Well, we came home from Sam's and I hit the garage door to close it. It opened again. We let the kids out and emptied the back, then closed the garage. It openened again.

KREP.

KREP KREPITTY KREP.

The garage door wouldn't close. Well, HELL. This is what garage doors are designed to do: close garages. Suddenly mine didn't and that was a serious problem. I got out the ladders and the hammers and the pliers and somewhere in there I got the door somewhat closed. The door was elevated on the right side and I was concerned about whom might allow themselves into our house. So I locked the door from the garage into the house. This meant the van had to be parked in the driveway, the family had to leave the house via the front door and something had to be done.

I called Raynor - with whom I have a long and forgotten history - and the guy came out, answered the call and fixed everything for ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN DOLLARS! It was unbelievable and the guy was great.

As to all of you who remain, I wish you a happy, healthy, wealthy New Year. I wish you everything to everyone but especially, I'd like to wish you good luck in doing your taxes.

Heaven knows how much I'm dreading them...

I guess I'm in full post-Holiday mode: things are just making me groan lately. Locally it's trying to figure out which new toy is making which new noise in which kid's hand on which level of the house. I suppose it's my version of Blind Man's Bluff - to which I feel eternally damned. Oh, I'll miss it once it's over, but only once it's over.

If we pull the lens back a bit it becomes much worse because I'm not the only one affected by what's going on. Namely, the Christmas terrorist. I'm sure the LSM has adequately covered the story and you're all completely informed as to the details, but here are the basics:

A guy boards an international flight into America, (specifically Detroit). He's already listed as a "suspected terrorist" but doesn't appear on the "no-fly list." His father calls to alert authorities that his son may have been further "radicalized" and he fears what his son may do. He lists his purpose of travel from Amsterdam to Detroit, (the "western mecca"), as, "to visit a religious conference."

He's allowed on the flight.

Through the flight he crosses the rest of the Western half of Europe, the Atlantic, the Eastern part of North America and as the flight is approaching Detroit he detonates the explosives already sewn into his underpants. One problem: whoever devised the bomb was nearly incompetent and the detonation merely set the wacko's nether regions alight instead of having the charges explode over the city. And to be honest, that was really only a problem for him. For us, it was Saving Grace.

Since he failed in his mission, I guess he won't be given his virgins. But that may be for the best, because they're probably not much use to him now anyway -- aside from sympathy, perhaps. And I don't imagine that will overcome the laughter, but that's pure speculation.

So what have we learned? Well, mainly that there was another attempted attack of the same type thwarted the very next day. Bet you didn't know that. And these attacks can only mean something. Perhaps one or more of the following:

• They hate us and they intend to kill us, no matter what.
• The war we're engaged in is indeed a war and was brought to us and will continue to be, (see: Coast, Barbary).
• The freedoms we - myself included - love and enjoy must be preserved while authorities chase down wrongdoers using every possible tool. This means that so long as we're not talking to islamists in foreign cities over the phone or transferring money to their organizations, we have nothing to worry about.
• The President who promised that a raised chin, smooth rhetoric and polished speeches would bring the world together is clearly out of his league

Oh wait! It's all of the above. Too bad for us...

Wow. I can't believe Christmas has come and gone and now we're faced with the terrifying prospect 2010 staring us in the face. Why do I say terrifying? Well for the usual reasons that I'll explain - and you'll all pay for - in that year. But more on that later...

I was surprised when it finally hit me that Thanksgiving was over and interested to learn that all those movies which advertised a December opening had already opened, but putting Christmas behind us really hit me. Of course, the Myth Of Christmas changes from generation to generation - and I mean personal generation instead of societal generation - so remembering Christmas no longer has much to do with actually living it anymore. As a child, Christmas is all glamor and glitter, tinsel and Rudolph and Lucy holding a football. It's a time of new toys and perhaps even food and candy you don't get the rest of the year.

But things change. As an adult, Christmas becomes - all too often - a blur of shopping, wrapping, appeasing his/her family, worrying about forgetting a card or gift for someone or trying to put 34 parts and six bags of hardware together at 1:00 AM. Christmas morning becomes a time of commanding the video camera and cleaning up 28 metric tons of wrapping paper before clipping and snipping toys out of packaging designed to survive an atomic attack, (which is ironic because the toys themselves self-destruct as soon as they're in the child's hands), and somehow trying to figure out how and where to eat dinner.

It becomes just a bit busy, in other words.

As was ours: I spent Christmas Eve in the basement putting together an air-hockey/multi-sport table and upstairs putting together a "Little Tykes" basketball hoop. Then crashing into bed only to sleep about 17 minutes for the entire night. Not sure why that was, because Heaven knows I was tired enough to sleep out the rest of the month. Of course that wasn't feasible and after locking in the kids with a gate at the top of the stairs, we spent some time as a family together goofing around in our bed before heading down to see what Santa had brought.

The kids were overjoyed - as most any kid is on Christmas Morn* - and after cracking the riddle of the air-hockey paddles we started to open presents. Paper everywhere, natch, and screaming peals of joy as Transformers®, kiddie laptops, games, puzzles, Nerf® guns and so on emerged from hiding. You know, Christmas. This was followed by a breakfast of yogurt, cereal and butter braids, (one of those seasonal-only foods, it would seem), (OH! That reminds me that we still have about one-third of the cream cheese one left. I'd better get it quick), and then we hit the road.

First stop was The Wif's Mom's house and the kids - well, The Knuckleheads - were unbearable. I understand the urgency, excitement and genuine love of Christmas kids have, but seriously; if one of their gifts there had been a baseball bat, they would have become painfully familiar with it. For her part, MLD held up well. I think that she's just on the edges of finally understanding that her brothers aren't simply overactive girlfriends who like to throw things at her.

From there we went to my Mom's for dinner. Yes, it was a long morning so I packed snacks, (or was rather instructed to do so), and we had peanuts and cheesesticks in the car on the way. Still hungry upon our arrival, we settled down to sup where we discovered that the kids were almost too excited to eat. Perfect.

After dinner we did some presentations about Christmas and two of my 'Phews signed Christmas songs. Then MLD read aloud from the book of Luke as provided by The Children's Bible, (she's due for an upgrade). Then The Knuckleheads got up and sang. Then more signing, (your milage may vary as my memory fails me at the moment). It was lovely and will - no doubt - become a family tradition. I'm grateful for that.

Of course the opening of presents followed and I took another step into my eventual role as Patriarch by forgoing the usual "your turn!" "Your turn," and simply announced, "3-2-1, GO!"

And go they did. Paper was ripped...

Well, you know the rest.

(*For those of you who would want to remind me that there are plenty of kids in the world who do NOT wake up happy on Christmas, I would only remind you that our children are adopted and we sponsor a child in Africa. Oh - and that our oldest 2 were removed from their birth-home on Christmas Eve. THEY did NOT wake up to a happy Christmas that year. So I'm already aware, thenkyewverymuch.)

The Wicked Fairy At The Manger
by U.A. Fanthorpe

My gift for the child:

No wife, kids, home;
No money sense. Unemployable.
Friends, yes. But the wrong sort –
The workshy, women, wimps,
Petty infringers of the law, persons
With notifiable diseases,
Poll tax collectors, tarts;
The bottom rung.
His end?
I think we’ll make it
Public, prolonged, painful.

Right, said the baby. That was roughly What we had in mind.

And it's almost midnight on Christmas Eve, the wind is howling through my block, the cat that tried to kill me is rubbing against my legs, (possibly searching for a weakness), and I'm so old now that I'm convinced I should have been asleep two hours ago.

In that spirit, let's all remember the reason for the day, celebrate the birth of our Savior here on earth and remember what the day is all about.

Or you can just be pissed that the grocery store is closed this afternoon. It's up to you.

Well I learned something new today. It was new to me anyway but I'm sure all of you already knew it. And that is the fact that I'm a total and complete bastard. See, I'm about to complain about the fact that each and every Christmas Decoration doesn't have a home in our house. I'm about to complain and shout because the decorations I brought up from downstairs have to be taken back downstairs.

Because I'm so freakin' EAGER to carry those bins back downstairs...

And that doesen't START to address the fact that I've never complained to her, (aside from, "if you'd just put the milk tab one foot further to the left when you open it, the kitchen would be that much cleaner." If you call that a complaint.) And I always know when the kids have had juice or when the last batch of milk has gone bad. She leaves the hints behind.

And I used to do it on my own. Pick up/clean up, that is. And then I stopped to let her learn and adopt and adjust. One of us has adjusted, one of us insists she has changed and the kids insist that things are different.

Just ask them to step into a pair of shoes and they'll have ample opporunity. And they'll be "flats" at that. And a ready chance to step into any one of the 4-to-5 pair she provides.

:nbsp;

But I suggested a fight. Well, we have them like any other married couple; time to time and that which gets unfinished will get finished. It's worked out well so far and I plan to masculinze her because I see it as necessary to win the fight.

I mean, if she says, "Dawson said that when Ethan said he'd rather be out with Rachel instead of her," I'd just start shooting. Which HOLY CRAP! just brings us back to where we started.

I broke the rules this weekend and had everyone but Bink riding on the roof. Well, OK, he rode on the roof but only as we traveled the back roads and through the parking lots. He's funny that way...

First off: I'm buying my gun. I need a .357 revolver in the house, and I'm ready to claim it. Secondly, my kids will need to know about semi-autos and revolovers in just the same way I do. Bring me a gun and I can dismantle it. I want them to be able to do the same. But it requires having a revolver in the house/my arsenal.

At least that's how I'm going to explain it...

To be perfectly blunt, I'm about to expend almost $700 on a gun that I may not fire in this decade but will only lust after it from afar. Well, from a-near. Mainly my gun case that sits at my left foot.

I LONG to know that there's a chrome .357 in there. The fact that the case already houses 2 .22's, a Walther PPK, (James Bond's gun), an Argentine .380 and a pre-and-post Beretta 9MM.

No, my mistake: the pre 92F is fully loaded and resting in a drawer. Ring my bell again. I dare you ...

Or I could follow my impulse and buy a hunk of metal. That is, a HUGE chunk of steel. Running or not, needing a motor or not. A Chevelle. A Mustang. A Corvallis, (whatever that is).

I NEED one. Make me fix it and that will be fine. I'll teach my kids along the way. They'll get it as we go. And I'll end up with kids that can turn a wrench. Could be worse, right?

J.O.T.W...

So today was my oldest sons' birthday. He's now 5 - which I never believed I'd actually be saying outloud - but he'll start Kindergarten next fall. And if I have my way, the younger boy who will turn 4 tomorrow and will start Kindergarten at the same time. Of course, if The Wif has her way the younger boy will start Kindergarten about the time he starts to drive, (HER car), and then all bets will be off.

still, this little guy has changed my life in ways that only the appearance of a child could change a life, (which is a great big, "DUH!" to anyone who has ever been even NEAR a child,) and I've changed his course in ways that will only be measured in his complaints.

I remember being a teenager and expect he won't be all that much different from myself or any other teen. Nature of the beast and all...

But for now, he's 5. At least 8 years from real trouble I hope and if things go my way I can still stay a lesson ahead of them in Karate. I may never reach a black-belt, but so long as I'm one-up on them, I'll be a happy guy.

So I'm facing a Kindergartener now. Well enough, I suppose. He's not the 1 1/2 year old I confronted back in that county room all those years ago; he made a crashing sound & gesture from the arm of the chair he was sitting in and I no doubt missed that cue. That cue that he was an odd child.

But tonight that "odd child" turned 5 years old. Suspend disbelief as I can and I still can't get there. My boy is 5 years old. And he'll be an Orange Belt.

I'd like to think that I had something to do with that.

(Tomorrow will start in the same vein and for the same reason. Only the names will be changed to protect, well, me!)

Happy Birthday, D-Man! I love you for the surprise you always seem to be.

I have to admit to a certain amount of weariness; after all, things keep coming, day after day, and under the new regime they're all greeted with the same regard: does it help shine The One's halo or might the news reflect poorly upon the current administration? If the former, the news is trumpeted from the rooftops. If the latter, Bush will be blamed.

(And as a brief aside, has anyone noticed the silent grace the former President has assumed? He's off doing who-knows-what but he certainly hasn't ladled on the criticism as that worthless piece-O-Crap jimmah carter did. How I look forward to my day off in celebration of his death.)

Well, a 44% approval rate will get The One a B+ in his own classroom - for he obviously lacks the math skills My Lovely Daughter has mastered - but he's never met a mirror he didn't love.

I may have typed this before but I'll type it again and probably again later next year: the gubermint plans to raise corporate taxes, raise the cost of energy via cap-N-tax and quadruple health care premiums with "health" "care" "reform," will kill industry. And just when we you voted in a guy who promised to keep jobs at home.

HA! Not Bloody Likely!!

Why would ANY company start hiring people under these circumstances? Companies will be left with smaller and smaller profit margins and that's not exactly the time to start expanding payroll. Trust me. I've been there.

To say it hasn't worked out as planned is a vast understatement: Christmas cards had to be done, Christmas decorations had to be imported from the basement, (and those rejected had to be returned to same), the tree had to be lit and decorated, snow had to be removed from the walk and sickness had to be had. Not a light load for the first four Fridays. And I hadn't seen anything yet.

See, this last Friday I was already obligated to help my Israeli Brother install a garage door opener. I'd done at least a dozen already so I was ready - and MORE than willing - to lend a hand. I mean, beside the fact that he's always been there when I needed him to lend a hand and a back, I finally felt the ability to use my skills/abilities to help him out. So I said I'd be there about 11 on Friday morning.

Until The Wif's phone rang at about 9:30. The news? Not good: her Mother fell on the way into dialysis and was being rushed to hospital. She'd called her daughter to say, "I fell, probably broke my arm and may have a concussion, but don't bother coming up." Which begs the question, "why did you call?" and the other question, "are you SURE you're not Jewish?"

The early plan was for The Wif to take The Knuckleheads to my Folks' and then head to hospital. I would go along my day as planned. BUT THEN! I heard that tone in The Wif's voice. And any husband knows of which tone I speak. A tone that said, "If I want my boys to live past lunchtime, I'd better step in now." I did, she left and instead of being :45 minutes early, I was :15 minutes late after dropping the boys off.

Still, short work and all, right?

At 2:50 - after a warm-up break and a run to Lowe's - I had to leave the job un-done and go collect MLD from school. By the time I got there she was one of only about 9 students standing at the top of the stairs but she responded immediately to my whistle. I got her and ran back to finish the install of the garage door opener. All done and the button 'hit,' it went about 2/3 of the way down and then reversed course.

(Pardon me, but) DAMN.

They were already celebrating Shabbat and Channukah and I still had work to do, a Wif to Transport, Knuckleheads to pick up, dinner to decide upon, snack, teeth and bed to be had. A busy night to be sure and as much as I've already complained about it all, I wasn't the one with the broken arm. And was unlikely to be the one to deal with the one with the broken arm. And as much as all bets are off, we still have to get through this week.

So the kids will go to school on their regular schedule. And then some, perhaps. We'll see where we end up. The cards need postage, some need invites and I'll have to check out USPS for stamps and a PO Box. Things continue, after all.

(For the record: the garage door opener was binding because the track wasn't level. I hope I fixed that. Also, Genie has decided to limit the track-path via a magnet embedded in the transom. Or something like that. With a Craftsman you limit the track of the chain with a dial. With a Genie, (apparently), you move a sensor back or forth along the track to stop the chain's movement. I actually like that method much more, but it's a geek's method so it's little wonder.)

After plugging in the opener, I got a solid red light from the front sensor. Can I tell you one thing? A solid red light meant that not only was the wiring sound, but that the signal from the sensor was being solidly received on the other end. And can I tell you another thing? That was the first time I'd EVER installed a garage door opener where the sensors recognized each other on the first attempt. And the remote?

Well, that was a mess. My Israeli Brother bought a Universal Genie Remote which was easily programmed at the box, but the one that came with it didn't do more than a mole's sneeze. "Well," I thought, "one is better than none," I supposed, until I read the book. Where it said to program the opener the same way the openers are to be programmed.

Long and short is that I finally got the opener installed, got The Wif - despite her best directions to the contrary - to dialysis - and she got her Mother home. I was invited to dinner, but I had to go pick up The Knuckleheads, MLD, My Wif and then race home to actually start digesting some protein. Such is the way of my life.

Things are complicated now. I fear the day that complications enter the scene...

Letters to Dear Abby (these are supposedly true and if so, I'm a Chinese jet pilot):

Dear Abby,
A couple of women moved in across the hall from me. One is a middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker in her mid twenties. These two women go everywhere together, and I’ve never seen a man go into or leave their apartment. Do you think they could be Lebanese?

Dear Abby,
What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language and Violence on my VCR?

Dear Abby,
I have a man I can’t trust. He cheats so much, I’m not even sure the baby I’m carrying is his.

Dear Abby,
I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has been on the pill for two years. It’s getting expensive and I think my boyfriend should share half the cost, but I don’t know him well enough to discuss money with him.

Dear Abby,
I’ve suspected that my husband has been fooling around, and when confronted with the evidence, he denied everything and said it would never happen again.

Dear Abby,
I joined the Navy to see the world. I’ve seen it. Now how do I get out?

Dear Abby,
My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist $50.00 an hour every week for two and a half years. He must be crazy.

Dear Abby,
I was married to Bill for three months and I didn’t know he drank until one night he came home sober.

Dear Abby,
My mother is mean and short tempered. I think she is going through mental pause.

Dear Abby,
You told some woman whose husband had lost all interest in sex to send him to a doctor. Well, my husband lost all interest in sex and he is a doctor. Now what do I do?

Dear Abby,
Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a boy who was raised in a good Christian home turn against his own?

Regarding the latest "health" "care" "reform" bill being debated in the senate I note with glee 2 items; first, the most recent polls put support for these bills no higher than 39%. That's great news for those of us with both health insurance AND common sense. That is, a majority of Americans DO. NOT. support these efforts. We - as Americans - don't want 535 people in D.C. making our health care decisions. Better left to us and our doctors, thankyouverymuch.

Of course, the other side to THAT particular coin is that this senate - headed up by the ghostly harry reid - is trying to ram through legislation that only the die-hard kool-aid drinkers support. Will of the people indeed...

But the other piece of good news also comes from those same polls. Namely, that of the 52% of Hopey-Changers who voted this group of clowns into power under the "Puppies Are Cute" ticket, a sizable portion of them have had the scales fall from their eyes. (That's a Biblical reference, just so you know.) It would seem that maybe they're actually learning what's going to happen under the bill, instead of just blindly voting for cute puppies. And good for them for that!

Seriously, I understand the kindness and tenderheartedness of those people who want to make sure that everyone gets health care. I do. But understand this; nobody in this country is denied health care, no matter what the scare-mongers in the administration say. Everyone gets health care - but it's sometimes at great cost. If THAT'S what you're protesting, then please be clear about it. And let's be clear about this as well: the costs of health care are high because we have the highest standard of care in the world, bar none. PLUS, the lecherous trial attorneys, (john edwards, call your office!), jump all over everything and everyone in a hospital in order to earn a buck. This causes malpractice insurance to skyrocket, which is - like all business expenses - passed on to the consumer.

You want to lower health care costs? Let's try a loser pays legal system. That would significantly reduce the number of lawsuits brought in the hopes of getting a sympathetic jury, (Dennis Miller has said that a defendant's fate is in the hands of 12 people too stupid to get out of jury duty. I agree). Not only would it reduce health care costs but it would clear up some court time and judges could be shuffled over to the criminal division where they could get through some of those full dockets.

It's win-win-win...

I warned you this was coming, so you can't plead ignorance. And since the cards arrived today and will start going out Thursday I think I can let the cat out of the bag, so to speak...

Coming - to (some of) your home(s) soon!

(The pic turned out slightly darker on the cards, but looks great on the T-shirt you'll never see. Just so you know. Also, sorry about the size, but that lame-arse Internet Explorer most of you use didn't support my cutting edge coding.)

The numbers and related rhetoric being spewed by the left surrounding "health" "care" "reform" are just mind-boggling. So much so that I'm not sure where to start, so let's just jump right in and see where we go, shall we? Yes. We shall.

So the cost of this bill is unknown. Mainly because there's been at least 7 different bills thus far and who knows how many more are waiting in the wings, (it's like Sammael - you kill one and two rise in its place). The one thing we do know about the cost is that it's going to be outrageous. And, like every other gubermint program, will overshoot even the largest estimates by a factor of at least 10. Either the democrats can't do math or they're lying to you.

Or both. Let's not rule out both.

The democrats also promise to fully fund this boondoggle by cutting "waste and fraud" from Medicare. If this were even remotely possible, I have a question or 3: Why can't they do that first? Why do we need to obligate ourselves to an obscene amount of spending in order to start saving from another program? If there is, "waste and fraud," shouldn't we be going after that ANYWAY?

Oh, and you know how they say they're going to help fund this? By ending Medicare Advantage. Most folks my age are only familiar with the term, so I suggest you ask your parents what they think about Advantage being shutdown. I'm betting they either won't believe you or will be mortified. (Perhaps literally)

And did you know that this "UNIVERSAL" coverage plan will leave 12 MILLION citizens still uninsured once it's enacted? Well of course it will: it gives them an out to grow it even more and more in the years to come.

harry reid said on Saturday that 'yesterday, 14,000 Americans lost their health insurance' or words to that effect, (I don't dare Google for the exact phrase because the story might include a picture of him). So let's do something the left is incapable of; math. But let's also leave it vague enough that they might be able to grasp the broader concept...

We'll start with either the 42 million or 30 million uninsured claim, (told ya' they couldn't do math), because it doesn't matter for the broader picture. On average, that's 12 percent of the American population. Now, add 14,000 per day, (5,110,000 per year) added to the 'uninsured' roles. In just one year that would be 14% of the population. Two years? That's 15.3%. OK, so it's not a HUGE jump, but if ol' prune-face harry is correct, why did the number of 42 million they've been using for at least a decade not increase, but suddenly DROP to 30 million? "Fuzzy" doesn't even start to describe their math.

And just when you think ol' harry has said something really stupid he outdoes himself and throws more wood on the fire. He claimed today that the people resisting "health" "care" "reform" are JUST LIKE the people who resisted the drive to end slavery. Well, sure - except for one thing: their party affiliation. The Republican party was FOUNDED on the principle of ending slavery and it was the democrats who resisted those efforts. It was the democrats who fought to keep and prolong this abhorrent practice.

And maybe harry doesn't know that a greater percentage of REPUBLICANS voted FOR the Civil Rights Act of 1964 than democrats, (you have to talk in percentages to be honest because the democrats were the majority party at the time). It's amazing; every time they hit a wall they have one and only one thing to return to. Race.

Do you know what an "-ist" is? It's someone who focuses first and foremost on whichever noun precedes the -ist. A Marxist is someone who focuses on the teachings of Marx to find meaning in the world around them. A sexist is someone who focuses on sex (gender, that is) to explain what they're seeing. So which party is the racist party?

Today's lesson has to do with winterizing one's house. Now we all know extra insulation will help keep us warm. Ditto for weatherstripping in the windows and doors. And of course it's a given that we should disconnect our garden hoses before a hard freeze. Common knowledge, all. But it's the little things that tend to slip our minds. You know the thing - the window that's left open in an un-used room, for example.

Or a water supply-line to one's evaporative cooler...

Yep. Sometime Thursday morning I received a gentle reminder that I forgot to shut off the water and disconnect the line. No, thankfully it wasn't a burst pipe and that's for a couple of reasons; first, it's a flexible hose. I'm not certain exactly what role that played in it, but I'm sure it had something to do with it. Second, the pump on our cooler is broken so that it is always on. I can turn it off at the switch but it just keeps chugging. In July it was kind of irritating to walk out back and see a steady stream of water coming down the spout and I kept thinking that I'd have to make a call to get that fixed.

Thank the good Heavens I didn't. The fact that the water was constantly in motion kept it from freezing and backing up into the laundry room. It's not the only time my procrastination has paid off, but it may be the most cost-effective example.

So what was my 'gentle reminder?' A MONSTER icicle that reached from the gutter above the second story to the top of the first story. Actually, that's not completely accurate; if you're envisioning a huge, cone shaped, Dracula-slaying-type of icicle, that's not it. It was a collection of smaller 'off-shoots' collecting along the larger one. Think Aliens' cave.

As I wondered just exactly what I was going to do about it, I took a pic of it, (unfortunately, it's on the camera and not the card so I have to find the cable to get it). I couldn't strike at it from below because it would kill me in the fall. I couldn't shoot at it from afar, (as much as I wanted to), for obvious reasons. If I threw rocks at it I could easily miss and send one through the window to The Wif's closet. What to do?

Then I hit on the answer: I'd open the window, remove the screen and hit it with a hammer, provided I could reach it. If not, I'd need something longer - like a broom. It wasn't until I was shoveling the walk that I got the right answer. A shovel. Not a snow shovel - because it probably wouldn't fit through the window - but a garden spade. Brilliant!

I opened said window and screen and then took a few warm-up swings on the smaller icicles. They fell without a fight, but they weren't this huge monster I was facing next to them. He might take a few swings. So I grabbed my weapon, took as much of a backswing as I dare and laid into it.

The crash was spectacular! Ice sprayed as far as the eye could see, (well, not literally), covering that entire side of our deck. It'll take until June to melt it all, but it's down. So that's basically 2 victories surrounding this incident. I'll take 'em.

And now, something that actually matters: Today marks the 68th Memorial of the attacks on Pearl Harbor. I know that a '68th' Memorial is not something that's normally noted, but I firmly believe that we should never pass up an opportunity to recognize and remember those who gave their lives in service to this great country. I'll spare you the history lesson here, but urge you to visit the official NPS site sometime today.

It's the least we can do.

And now...

Tiger Woods is so rich that he owns lots of expensive cars.
Now he has a hole in one.

I finally out-drove Tiger Woods.

What’s the difference between a car and a golf ball?
Tiger can drive a ball 400 yards.

It’s really not that surprising. Everyone knows driving is the worst part of his game.

Tiger Woods wasn’t seriously injured in the crash, but he’s still below par.

What were Tiger Woods and his wife doing out at 2.30 in the morning?
They went clubbing.

Tiger Woods crashed into a fire hydrant and a tree.
He couldn’t decide between a wood and an iron.

Tiger Woods just announced that he is enrolling in Chris Brown’s school of self-defense.

He should have used a driver.

What do a golf ball and an SUV have in common? Tiger Woods drives both into trees on occasion.

Hollywood are making a film based on this incident:
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Hydrant.

What’s the difference between Tiger’s Cadillac and his pitching wedge?
He can back up his pitching wedge!

What - too soon?

Sorry guys, but I've caught a bug of some kind - full system purge, chills and shakes so bad I'm surprised I'm able to get even this bit done. I'm going to try and knock off early to get a jump on this thing.

Besides, I was just going to rant about the little o's big Afghanistan plan; which is the Bush plan with a surrender date tacked on the back just in time for the next Presidential election. But I'm sure that's just coincidence. And we waited over 3 months to hear 'we're sending troops and then bringing them home?' Yeah, the most brilliant President we've ever had.

Of course this is the team whose announced economic plan is to spend so we don't go broke. What can one expect from the likes of these?

There: that was the outline. G'night, all...

Tonight - even though I'm on leave - was a rough night. Tuesdays always are; we have karate earlier than on Monday and it's usually bath night for everyone. Fortunately, everyone got bathed yesterday, (I know I did), so it should have been less hectic.

Should have been...

We decided to do the annual Christmas Card (I guess "annual" is redundant), tonight. It started off with me trying to pose The Knuckleheads in front of the tree. When I asked them to do a "muscle block," they'd do it, but then return to their pose position. When I told them to "hold it," they'd stand in their initial stances. When asked to smile, I got more grimaces than smiles. And then, a dog would step into the shot. And as soon as I got rid of the dog, got The Knuckleheads posed and smiling, the OTHER dog would step into the shot.

So two of the four of them had to go to the garage. I decided on the dogs, but it could go differently next year.

After finally getting about a dozen shots of them in their karate outfits in their karate poses, I sent them upstairs to change into their Brand! New! Christmas pajamas for the group shot. Mommy went downstairs to find a bright red bedsheet to cover the stool we were using as a prop and I visited my meth dealer. Or at least I should have, had I had one.

Multiple shots of The Knuckleheads on the stool. Multiple shots of all 3 on or around the stool. 6 different poses if I remember correctly and about 18 shots later, we're done. Or so we hope. D-Man then did his "homework" and Mommy went over MLD's homework. I did dishes and Bink read books. Since they were already in PJs we had only to do "snack", medicine and brush teeth before either reading to them or showing them videos on the computer before bedtime.

BUT! Tonight we had something else: pictures of them, to show them, on the computer. The potential Christmas Card pics for all to review and vote on. And after all those pics I took, we could agree on ONE. One pic for the card. But The Wif wanted 3 kid pics for the card, which meant reviewing everything on the camera card for something to put on the Christmas card.

It could make your head spin if you let it, so I don't.

We put the kids to bed and agreed on two other pictures. I started trying to edit them and then sent them - via email - downstairs, (an interesting age, to be sure). The Wif then went to the website and started assembling the card. Pic #1? Fine. Pic #2? Fine. Pic #3? It cut off the top and bottom thirds, which included MLD's head and feet. I got the update and went back to try to size the pic correctly, only to have The Wif come up here and tell me not to bother: she'd compose the card using just one pic.

After suppressing my murderous rage, (just kidding), I told her I'd already done it and would send it to her again. Once that was done I went downstairs to see how it was working. Same result: a headless, legless torso of a child on her first day of second grade. No go.

So -- ... -- we're back to a single pic of all 3 monsters. Many of you will see the cards in person. Those who don't will get a preview here soon enough...

Well, I'm on vacation. The first, real, vacation of my adult life. Alright - almost. I took a week off to go on a cruise I won from a local radio station during my first marriage and then took a month off when the kids moved in. Aside from that, I'd use my leave in day-by-day increments usually founded around Holidays and already-long weekends.

Seriously: I've never taken a week off aside from the 2 examples I've already cited, (but I'll probably be corrected on that) and I was telling the family at Thanksgiving that I was kind of wondering what I'd do with myself, not being used to taking time off and all.

That's been fixed...

Sunday, as I set out to retrieve MLD's new bed, I learned that my truck's battery had died. DEAD. Croaked more than the WB frog. Gone. And my first thought was, well, something that wouldn't be suitable for what I consider a family-friendly website. But it would have been the perfect term for the time and circumstances.

WAIT! I have to back up right now.

For the first time in a decade I had the Friday after Thanksgiving off. It finally fell that way again without any effort on my part. Since I work for the gubermint, I get Thanksgiving off and knew I'd get up to 4 hours on the Wednesday before. So good planning on my part meant I'd get my Friday off, the week afterwards, Thanksgiving and a half-day (or so) on the Wednesday before. 11 & 1/2 days for the price of 44 hours of leave.

Can you imagine how much I was looking forward to my first vacation - and a long one - in over 3 years? Sure Thanksgiving would be busy but fun, but I'd get to relax. TCB, as we say around here. This would be great! Fun! Relaxing! I wouldn't know what to do!

Just for the record, as soon as you start to think that way, the problem is solved...

It started when The Wif needed a roaster. We have roasters - 4 of them I think - downstairs. Turns out, those were roaster PANS which makes a heck of a lot of difference. Here's how it happened:

Wif: "Can you pick up a roaster?"

Me: "Don't we have a bunch of those already?"

W: "Not a roasting pan, a roaster."

M: (only to myself), 'Is this a tan/beige discussion?'

M: "OK. What am I looking for?"

W: "They have them on sale at Target and Wal-Mart today."

(Here I should have known I was in trouble. I'm using my half-day off to go to the STORE? I could have put on a movie and stayed in bed while it played. Then again, I'm a married man so when I hear, "We need a roaster," I set about killing one and dragging it home. Even when I have no clue what I'm Looking for.)

At Target, I can't find a "roaster." I'm pretty good in the kitchen, and I can identify waffle irons, coffee makers, crock-pots, toasters, toaster ovens and even sandwich makers. They have them all. I figured the "roaster" would be the one thing I'm not familiar with and then I could check the tag to be sure.

(On the phone) M: "What am I looking for?"

W: (Deep sigh) Did you ask someone for a roaster?"

M: (only to myself), 'are you NEW here?'

M: "No. Describe it and maybe I can find it. I'm not seeing anything here."

W: "You could look at the ad they have in front of the store and take another look, or you could ask."

The answer to that is obvious to any man: if there's an ad, you go look, do your best to find the thing and try again. If you can't find it, you look as exasperated as you can in front of the cutest clerk wandering the floor and she should ask you what you need, (the answer is too obvious to state here). "Ask somebody," is subjective after all, right?

Long and short? No roaster there. They checked other stores and found 4 north of us. Why, I'd go there in the afternoon!

No roaster there. Allyson promised to help me - and printed out a list of stores and even went so far as to write down the number of roasters recorded to be at those stores. I called another store and, unfortunately, there was no Allyson there; I was held on hold, (if that's not a ridiculous statement), and asked again and again if I wanted the roaster that was on sale. I told them I didn't care if the thing cost $500. I needed it. Now.

(For the record, I was grateful/impressed with Allyson; she knew her stuff, navigated the system and was helpful beyond belief. She went above and beyond and she'll be a manager in no time. Which is kind of the problem; I honestly think a Target Manager is less than she can accomplish. I would be fine with going to her as my doctor, for example. But if she's too successful in what she's doing now she may succeed to the point that she won't get away. I think we've all been there.)

And by the way, we had turkey at Thanksgiving. It was cooked in a roaster The Wif bought.

She made one trip, a phone call and then another trip.

Natch...