TERROR ALERT LEVEL:

This krep was posted:

Smarch 2010
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Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

Things to put in your head...

Friends...

Everyday reads...

Read on his terms...
Lileks

Stuff for your ears...

 

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My Amazon Wish List

All commentary Copyright Stonestead.com, 2010. 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.

My Son lost his first tooth this week. As is her tradition, the Tooth Fairy left a note and a buck at his place at the table - where he left his tooth to be collected. He couldn't have been happier and felt the need to crash my sleep in order to show me his note, (in the shape of a tooth), as well as tell me that he earned a dollar.

I'm unsure as to whether My Lovely Daughter still buys into the tooth fairy thing, or if she still pretends to just because she's just that smart and wants to please me. Or perhaps she wants the dollar. So many variables to be considered...

If you're following me on Facebook or Twitter you've already seen this, but once my boy got his note and his dollar he told Mommy that he's like to put that dollar into his college fund. GREAT idea! GREAT plan! LOVE the spirit behind the thought! Uhhhhh..., but your college fund is already fully funded for this year.

Gee, sorry 'bout that, kid.

And now that so many of you have voted to make private school loans illegal, I guess I'm glad that we're able to - and HAVE - fully funded their college funds. And when your little o goes after ESA's, I'll tuck the money away in a coffee can in the back yard. Right next to one of my guns and one of my Bibles.

Let me just say -- Thank You. Thank you to all you ignorant voters who chose mr. hopey Mcchange and ms. Screedy McCroon as speaker of the house. You have now robbed me, The Wif and my kids of our health insurance. Well Done, There! I guess in a certain way you have guaranteed the expansion of my family, but if I can't insure them, what's the point?

You know, the good news is that so long as the legal system holds things in limbo - as if waiting 4 years to kick in is "limbo," (I thought this was an URGENT NEED!), we might still make it out of this in one piece.

And if you're one of those gubermint workers who voted for this idiot and feel safe in the belief that your personal health insurance will stay intact, well, double shame on you: you voted to keep things safe for yourself while inflicting great harm on your fellow citizens. May you be run over by a bus.

The good news on this end is that we're - almost completely - debt-free. And we have set about a plan of action to pay off our mortgage as well as fund our kids college funds for the foreseeable future. We'll get by. We'll HAVE to get by.

As for the rest of you little-o kool-aid drinkers? I hope you go bankrupt. Again and again...

And now... CRAZY LAWS FROM MY HOME STATE!

(Actually, I believe many of these are off the books now. At least in the sense that I remember voting to repeal "archaic" laws like the ones that follow year after year as well as speed limits. The latter still stand. Dang it...)

It is illegal to ride a horse while under the influence.

It is illegal for liquor stores to sell food or grocery stores to sell any alcohol except beer that is at most 3.2% alcohol.

It is illegal for a woman wearing a red dress to be out on the streets after 7 PM.

Colorado law requires that wine be sold in containers of at least 24 ounces and spirits in containers at least a fifth of a gallon. But, at the same time, it also decrees that no alcohol beverage can be stored in hotel minibars in anything larger than miniature containers.

Colorado Springs: It is permissible to wear a holstered six-gun within city limits, except on Sunday, Election Day, or holidays.

Cripple Creek: It is illegal to bring your horse or pack mule above the ground floor of any building.

Denver: The dog catcher must notify dogs of impounding by posting, for three consecutive days, a notice on a tree in the city park and along a public road running through said park.

Denver: It is unlawful to lend your vacuum cleaner to your next-door neighbor.

Denver: It is illegal to mistreat rats.

Denver: You may not drive a black car on Sundays.

Denver: It is illegal for Barber's to give massages to nude customers unless it is for instructional purposes.

Durango: It is illegal to go in public dressed in clothes "unbecoming" on one's sex.

Logan County: It is illegal for a man to kiss a woman while she is asleep.

Pueblo: It is illegal to let a dandelion grow within the city limits.

Sterling: Cats may not run loose without having been fit with a taillight.

I could speak to more than a few of these, but I'll stick to this: I know from personal experience that if you attach ANYTHING to a cat's tail you're CERTAIN to see it run. Don't ask the details...

I had an interesting revelation today. As I retrieved the mail there was the usual stuff: a Netflix, (not mine, dagnabbit), a card from my allergist saying I might be eligible to participate in an asthma study, (giving me 2 shots once a week isn't enough torture apparently), a flyer and a couple of catalogs. AND a little love note from the DMV. It seems that one of our vehicles is due for new tags and its annual rectal probe at the emissions place.

I used to dread getting those cards. In fact, I used to keep track of the months our vehicles had to be renewed and used to plan how we were going to pay for it. I even went so far as to let The Death Star expire in two consecutive years so the renewals would be further apart; you know, one in April and the other in August. Spread out the pain so it's not so intense all at once.

So when I got the mail and saw the card, I put it in the car, (I was on my way to get lunch), and drove on. At the first stop sign I looked at the Netflix - a Bugs offering that won't go over all that well, (I have GOT to update their queue), catalogs with frilly stuff for Spring/Summer and the card. I glanced at it and the first thing I looked at was which vehicle was due. Turns out it was the very vehicle I was in - the Exploder. I put the card down at the red light and drove to one of my preferred drive thrus. As I was waiting for my food I made an incredible realization: I still hadn't looked at how much the tags were going to cost!

I was shocked at how calm I was, (if that's not an oxymoron): going from near flop-sweats to not giving it a second thought! I traded panic for peace in just a few short years and all because we got our financial house in order, paid off $100K, (OK, $99,619 - wouldn't want to exaggerate) and now we control our money instead of it controlling us: our only debt is our home mortgage and that payment is only 17% of our net pay. That's a lot left over!

Again, or if you're new here, I'm not saying this to boast or to brag on us. Honestly. I want you to feel that same sense of peace that I felt in slaying the dragon. It changes lives and it changes families. And it changes the way you look at your mail...

I understand that many voters in this country are painfully uninformed and therefore vote for what "sounds good." That's never been proven more true than right now. The idiot in chief - the one who's never run even a lemonade stand - has proven time and again that he has no knowledge of business, the effect of tax rates on the economy or even of basic math. I mean, how can ANYone experience a THREE THOUSAND PERCENT REDUCTION in ANYTHING?!?

Oh the kool-aid drinkers out there are rushing to say that he meant three thousand DOLLAR reduction which is even more ignorant. Insurance premiums vary widely due to many factors: state regulations, the plans offered, the size and general risk factor of the insurance pool, etc... If he meant to say three thousand dollars it's just further proof that he has no idea what he's talking about. Again.

But things go from simple ignorance/constant lying to promoting unconstitutional acts. Or from bad to worse, in other words. It's a complicated issue, but I believe the Wall Street Journal does a fantastic job of explaining it:

"We're not sure American schools teach civics any more, but once upon a time they taught that under the U.S. Constitution a bill had to pass both the House and Senate to become law. Until this week, that is, when Speaker Nancy Pelosi is moving to merely 'deem' that the House has passed the Senate health-care bill and then send it to President Obama to sign anyway. Under the 'reconciliation' process that began [Monday] afternoon, the House is supposed to approve the Senate's Christmas Eve bill and then use 'sidecar' amendments to fix the things it doesn't like. Those amendments would then go to the Senate under rules that would let Democrats pass them while avoiding the ordinary 60-vote threshold for passing major legislation. This alone is an abuse of traditional Senate process. But Mrs. Pelosi & Co. fear they lack the votes in the House to pass an identical Senate bill, even with the promise of these reconciliation fixes. House Members hate the thought of going on record voting for the Cornhusker kickback and other special-interest bribes that were added to get this mess through the Senate, as well as the new tax on high-cost insurance plans that Big Labor hates. So at the Speaker's command, New York Democrat Louise Slaughter, who chairs the House Rules Committee, may insert what's known as a 'self-executing rule,' also known as a 'hereby rule.' Under this amazing procedural ruse, the House would then vote only once on the reconciliation corrections, but not on the underlying Senate bill. If those reconciliation corrections pass, the self-executing rule would say that the Senate bill is presumptively approved by the House -- even without a formal up-or-down vote on the actual words of the Senate bill. Democrats would thus send the Senate bill to President Obama for his signature even as they claimed to oppose the same Senate bill. They would be declaring themselves to be for and against the Senate bill in the same vote. Even John Kerry never went that far with his Iraq war machinations. ... This two-votes-in-one gambit is a brazen affront to the plain language of the Constitution, which is intended to require democratic accountability. Article 1, Section 7 of the Constitution says that in order for a 'Bill' to 'become a Law,' it 'shall have passed the House of Representatives and the Senate.' This is why the House and Senate typically have a conference committee to work out differences in what each body passes. ... If Congress can now decide that the House can vote for one bill and the Senate can vote for another, and the final result can be some arbitrary hybrid, then we have abandoned one of [James] Madison's core checks and balances."

That sums it up nicely. You were promised "change." Let's "hope" we don't get it here.

So it's Happy St. Patrick's day already, is it? Doesn't it seem like just yesterday was New Year's? And the day before that was 1993? A sure sign of rapid aging no doubt, but I honestly just find myself shaking my head some days. For example, we have the kids' pictures from their first Christmas with us on the wall just outside the boys' bedroom door so I see it every time I leave the room. MAN! Have they changed. I mean in three and half years I guess we all have but it's shocking to see so often. But we're already far afield here...

Saint Patrick was kidnapped from England and taken into slavery in Ireland. There he labored for - as best we can tell - about 6 years until his escape and then returned to England. Once back "home" he joined a monastery and studied theology, (since the "History Of Post-Modern Feminism" class was closed, right? -ed), and became what can only be described as a Missionary.

Somewhat surprisingly - depending on your point of view I suppose - he returned to the land of his slavery to teach the word of God. By all accounts he was quite successful in bringing non-believers to The LORD and that may be due to his methods: aside from testifying and sermons/speeches, he adopted the shamrock to demonstrate how God could be three entities and still a part of a single entity.

Now this seems obvious to us today but at the time the whole idea of the 'Trinity' was at odds with a theological tenet held by others in the "Christian Church," such as it existed. His use of that simple, leafy plant was a powerful demonstration and the genius was that not only were the people of Ireland already familiar with the plant but as he explained it, they surely must've thought about his words every time they looked at a shamrock.

There's how that association came into place. As for the wearin' O' The Green? That's pretty simple: green has long been tied to Ireland due to Ireland's green vistas and flora. Not to mention the fact that green is the first color on their flag. The two are almost inseparable. (I've never been able to find a reasonable explanation for why you need to pinch someone black and blue for not wearing green, but hey -- strange things get attached to a great many legends, no?)

One feat accredited to Saint Patrick is that he drove all the snakes out of Ireland. Apparently he was supposed to have been giving a rather animated speech and while pounding his staff on the ground the force was enough to drive all the snakes from the country. Rumor is that they caught a freighter bound for Venice that very night!

No, of course not. Snakes are notoriously afraid of freighters and they all jumped into the sea instead...

(Modern science is convinced that there is no proof of any snakes living in post-glacial Ireland and the church has accepted the legend as a metaphor for driving The Serpent out of non-believers.)

As for all the drinking we think of when it comes to March 17th? St. Patrick's Feast Day was believed to be a one-day celebration that was exempted from the restrictions of Lent, "in his honor." Sounds like a pretty lousy excuse but any excuse will do, right? Interestingly, there have been 2 times in recent history when the Holiday was officially celebrated by practicing Catholics so that this exemption would not take place during Holy Week.

But go ahead and celebrate today, because the next collision of the two won't happen again until 2160. I think we're all safe on that one...

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Well, my weekend started early - depending on your definition of that term; I did get to take 90 minutes of leave at the end of my work shift, but it was a busy time after that. See, we were due to take part in an adoptive parent panel at the University of Denver. Our audience was roughly half therapists and half adoptive case workers and they were picking our brains, (there was another dad and another mom - unmarried on the panel), about our experiences with therapists.

As you can imagine with a panel of 4 people there were 5 or 6 experiences; even The Wif - with whom I shared our experiences - came up with stuff that was different from what I had to say. And even though we were there to inform the workers, it was very informative to us as well...

Namely, even as much trouble as we had getting this family built at Mach 2.8, there are those out there who had it much worse. Of course we knew this already but you get wrapped up in things and tend to forget the stories you've already heard, so hearing new ones from time to time helps get your mind back. And your sense of gratitude back.

One of the other parents had adopted a 4-year-old who grew up in Northern New England in an area so secluded that the child had no verbal skills at all. Talk about a tough transition for everyone involved! So when I suggested that my experience was basically that having a therapist we could trust our kids to talk to was about it - plus the "graduation" when they left care - the other parent naturally bristled. They insisted that the therapy was key and not just individual therapy but family therapy.

The fourth parent related how they'd had nine - NINE - therapists for their biological and adoptive children. Now, they're the parent and it's a free country and they're more than legally able to go about this stuff in any way they seem fit: but NINE?!? Criminey! Each child had their own therapist, they were seeing a family therapist, an equine therapist, a shoes-too-tight therapist or who knows what all. Their kids were of school age and the first thing that came to my mind was, WHEN DO THESE KIDS HAVE TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL? When do they have time for ANYthing else?

I'm not adverse to therapy but it's not, (in this case certainly), the final answer to all problems! There's a little something called "parenting" and "discipline" for Pete's sake! Kids thrive on structure and order and as much as they rebel against the rules and test their boundaries, they're so much better off when they know that people who love them have put up walls to protect them.

(We'll revisit that in a minute.)

The good news is that I was able to find the campus and the parking garage without much stress. Which was actually very good news because I couldn't sleep the night prior and was becoming increasingly convinced that I was going to barf all over everything during the panel, so I didn't need any more stress. And I'm completely serious: I ate almost nothing all day so I'd be free from ammunition. I tried to count through as many prime numbers as I could remember to distract myself, (yes, I'm a TOTAL geek). I imagined how I would explain 'pi' to my daughter in a way she'd understand, (see above).

But I got through it and instead of playing the good husband and just sitting there quietly nodding at everything The Wif said, I actually participated. As I tweeted, I even had the crowd laughing several times which I thought was amazing, (and I embarrassed The Wif in the process).

This might be getting easier, but I'm sure I'll have another chance to prove it.

Then on Saturday, I took The Bink to a birthday party. It was way down south and we left in plenty of time to make it there. Or so I thought. Turns out that there was an accident or a blockage or something on CO HWY 121 and it looked as if we'd spend the rest of the afternoon inching along the road. Cripes.

Of course I got the usual grilling from my little Nazi about what I was doing, how I was doing it and being told that we were going to be late. Time to open up the NyQuil for him. And then it happened: a break opened in approaching traffic and I drove over the median, (I always drive The Death Star to these events to make an impression), cutting across town to another route. If you thought I caught Hell before, you should have heard him after that.

Time to break out the Flintstone's Chewable Valium for him.

We made it to the party and I saw many faces which were familiar from the other parties I'd taken my kids to. Couldn't recall a single name, but I recognized the faces at least. We were at a jumping place of some sort where the trampolines stretched the distance and even went half-way up the walls. It literally put a new spin on "jumping off the walls." The kids loved it.

Of course there was standard birthday party fare: pizza, cake, cupcakes and present-opening. Bink had a piece of pizza and soiled a cupcake but was little interested in any of it. He went back to jumping and bouncing and running around like a crazy person. May as well, I suppose.

Eventually we left and got home just in time for him to say to me - as soon as we walked in the door - "Daddy, don't forget lunch." Geez. Not only am I being lectured to about our schedule by a 4-year-old, I'm being lectured to by a 4-year-old who doesn't remember that he was already offered lunch. This is what my life has become. And will be for another 14 years.

I gave him some cheese and cashews then asked him to lie down. So I could do the same. One of us slept - briefly - and the other one was obnoxious that evening.

Saturday also saw what was supposed to be D-Man's first meeting with his - of all things - therapist. It went down sideways because MLD was involved and that means his next meeting will be his first in spite of it being his third. It's like the gubermint is doing the math on this one, frankly.

At any rate, The Wif and the therapist ended up henning talking the session away while my oldest two played and my youngest was ticking me off at home. The therapist apparently told The Wif that we were "hyper-parents" - meaning we were overly talented at it, not that we'd completely lost our minds over it - because we had plans, schedules, discipline and routines. She explained that, and let me know if you've heard this before, Kids thrive on structure and order and as much as they rebel against the rules and test their boundaries, they're so much better off when they know that people who love them have put up walls to protect them. She also explained that there are a great many adoptive parents who don't understand this and as a result over-infantilize their kids.

Not a problem we're going to run into here.

Sunday saw the celebration of my beloved Mother's birth, so we started the day by sleeping in. Purely by accident, natch. I then got up with the kids and fixed breakfast, (whatever that was), before The Wif came down and made a carrot cake. And then a cranberry cheesecake. And then she had me make cookies while she bathed.

That afternoon we had a celebratory dinner at a local place and then came home to enjoy the desserts and light conversation. A good time was had by all. At least I think so. And if nothing made the evening, this did: my oldest boy told my youngest brother, "If you're gonna be a monkey, you have to eat bananas."

Well, if ever anyone should know...

Four high school boys afflicted with spring fever skipped morning classes. After lunch they reported to the teacher that they had a flat tire.

Much to their relief she smiled and said, "Well, you missed a test today so take seats apart from one another and take out a piece of paper."

Still smiling, she waited for them to sit down. Then she said: "First Question: Which tire was the one which went flat?"

Spring is in the air; just ask my nose...

Criminey. I'm kind of stuck here, so please forgive me for being vague. I'm in between myself and My Lovely Daughter (MLD) and it's territory I'd rather not trod if given the chance. Unfortunately, I don't have that option so here's where I find myself. Or something like that.

We're going through some problems with my smart, beautiful little girl. But I don't think I can elaborate based upon our conversation earlier tonight. See, we ran into another problem but since I'd already tweeted it I think I can expand slightly.

We had to "correct" our daughter's behavior tonight. And by "we" I mean "me," because I was alone with the little monsters at dinner tonight and had to explain what I was doing to The Wif once she came home. And of course I had to pre-plan the whole thing with The Knuckleheads. D-Man was prepped and performed wonderfully. Bink was prepped but didn't have to answer up at all because MLD responded immediately to her treatment.

Which tells me that I hit on something that worked. Like I said, I feel the need to be vague here - and I'll explain that in a minute - but she was confused and hurt. Denied something she valued and at the mercy of someone else (other than myself and her Mother), she actually cried. It killed me, but I honestly believed it had to be done or I wouldn't have done it.

The issue at question - as best I can describe it - was her attempt to make herself queen bee around here. As is usually the issue with her, so I felt that I needed to turn the tables. Which is an interesting turn of a phrase because it all happened around the table. And I can say no more. Here's why...

After having corrected MLD tonight, as I was tucking her in and doing prayers I re-visited our little experiment so she might be reminded. She remembered. I also told her that I'd written on the Internet that I had to correct her.

And then she hit me much harder than I'd ever anticipated she could, (with much worse to follow, I'm sure), by saying, "why would you write that on the Internet?"

I was floored - almost literally. I didn't know she even knew what the Internet was, much less that everything there was available to everyone in the world.

So I have to change my business model. A bit, at least. I think she'll be glad to read this stuff after I'm gone but I have to respect her wishes for the time being. Oh, I'll still brag on her at every opportunity, but she's old enough to request her privacy and I'm Father enough to respect that request.

In fact, since she's becoming increasingly aware of the world outside her particular sphere of influence I'll have to be a bit more careful about what I share online in the future. So look forward to that.

Movie Review: OK. So the other night I watched "Ring Around The Rosie" and it was pure dreck. Complete, utter waste of time. Something that never, ever should have been made, much less offered to the general public. Terrible. Awful. One of the worst things I've ever subjected myself to, excluding my first marriage.

Well, OK. Maybe it was even worse than that. It stank to the high heavens and even viewing it through my computer I could smell the stench coming through the screen. It was...

Well, you get the idea. If you like horror films, don't bother. If you like any other kind of films, don't bother. If you have 90 minutes to kill, don't bother. In short, don't bother.

I normally ignore the online ratings of pretty much any movie but I should have checked this one out first: one stars as far as the eye can see. I'll pay slightly more attention to the ratings in the future.

So my son has finally made things right by, well, making things right. And tonight he's earned his last black stripe on his orange belt. This means that after another 3 classes or so he - and his brother - will qualify to test for their yellow belts. I would be skeptical, but I'm convinced that the little-legged pipsqueak has actually learned the correct form for a kick and has actually earned his attempt at the next belt.

It's actually gorgeous to watch and I will suggest this school - or Karate in general - to any parent. They grow in ways you can't possibly imagine if it's done correctly.

In other but related news, My Lovely Daughter earned her first black stripe on her orange belt tonight. Well on her way to a yellow. But her brothers are still ahead of her. Which will not only drive her crazy, but will hopefully motivate her along the way.

Of course I love all my kids equally, (and at this point you're welcome to speculate among yourselves), but I'm kind of thankful that the boys have some sort of advantage over MLD. After all, she imagines herself Queen of All She Surveys, so that has to be corrected.

To a certain extent...

So this is what my life has become: stripes of black electrical tape covered by a stripe of blue electrical tape covered by a stripe of red electrical tape crowned by white electrical tape before asking you to show what you've learned in order to earn all that bloody electrical tape.

Of course, they charge for all of it and we'll pay to have all the kids take part in the tournament as well as test for their next belts. But it's well worth it...

Well. It seems that the bully that's been bothering MLD has been leaving her alone ever since I suggested my fix. No doubt this is a good thing because she's no longer being abused, but a part of me is a bit frustrated on at least two levels; first, because the power I tried to instill in MLD has gone un-tested and is therefore still just a theory in her 8-year-old mind. Second and less importantly, Daddy's ideas are still just ideas and I'll have to continue to prove myself in other areas.

Which is fine. It's exactly what I signed on for to be perfectly honest...

Now - just like everything else - I have a theory about this; my guess is that MLD has already started to display more confident behavior and has therefore started to come off the bully's radar screen. It's just a thought, but you ladies out there have NO IDEA how much confidence - or lack thereof - can affect our behavior. And if you can change the behavior of we simple-minded men, you can at least certainly affect the behavior of those females around you as well. I'm guessing my Daughter's spine was straighter, she held her chin higher and to a certain extent she was spoiling for a fight and this is what put the bully off her.

It's just a guess, but it's as good as any I can come up with at this point.

The details are in, the agenda is set and we're ready to go for this Friday. Except for that whole "puking all over myself" part. Even my leave request has already been input, approved and put into the system. Thereby eliminating my last possibility to skip out of this responsibilty.

Dagnabbit...

So time to find pants, iron a shirt and pick out a tie that accurately reflects my respect for the event while reflecting my unique personality. I wore my "Green Eggs and Ham" tie to the adoption hearing, so maybe that? I don't remember having a St. Patrick's Day tie but I probably do, (for someone who never wears a tie, I have a whole mess of the things). But I also have to pick one that will wear well with puke on it. Or one I don't care all that much about, I guess.

If I've been vague, (and I don't think I have), I'll be taking part in a panel discussion this Friday. Since I don't do a ton of public speaking, when it comes up I imagine myself as the James Bond of the speaking tour and think I can handle anything. Until I have to actually stand there and say something beyond, "Hello." At that point, any nestlings in the audience would be fed for a week.

Wish me well. I'm going to need it.

So my boy has finally done me proud. For a short time. After having stolen an extra toy from the dentist last week, then having to confess it to me, then Grandma then his Karate Instructor, he had to return the toy and confess it to the dentist's office today. He has accomplished all of that, and I'm rather happy that he rose to the tasks at hand, however reluctantly. But it's done.

Mommy, myself and his Instructor have all told him how proud we are of him for doing the right thing, (Grandma is excluded only because we haven't talked to her tonight), and he seems to be doing much better. I'm not convinced that it's necessarily a good thing that he's becoming more acquainted with the pain of confessing his sin, but it was a game-time decision that had to be made.

At any rate, I hope he's all the better for "coming clean," as they say and he seemed to be. Until he told me that, "Mommy told me to put on these jeans" after Karate class tonight. "The ones you had on before, right?" "Yep."

Except for one major problem: those weren't the jeans he had on earlier: they were fresh from the drawer. Of course, I didn't recognize that and it took his appearance downstairs for it to be recognized, (by Mommy, natch). Which means he lied to me.

Criminey. I don't mind being thought of as unobservant on certain things, but to have a 5 year old lie directly to my face? Well, the rest of you had better take note because it'll come up sooner or later in your own life.

And after being called on it, he threw a fit of rage-N-tears. I stepped in and told him to put the pants back in the drawer and to just put on 'jammies.' He was every bit as thrilled as you might imagine him to have been. I'd told him earlier that I was proud of what he'd done, (returning the purloined toy), but had to tell him that I was disappointed with his lie.

This krep never ends, does it?

Movie review: So I watched "Traitor" recently. My first thought was that I couldn't believe for even a moment that this movie was allowed to be made. But then I saw the credits: Steve, "A Wild and Crazy Guy" Martin was involved and apparently paid for the thing to be made. So, OK - he's earned enough money and enough cred to make such a thing happen, but it might be pointing towards a change in attitude. I can only hope he's mature enough that it's finally taking place, but time will tell.

As for the movie? Excellent. It's gripping and just when you think all is lost, redemption is at hand. I'll say nothing more because if you haven't seen it, you really should. It's a very well done project and the completion is, actually, art. In a strange but socially-acceptable way.

A bit too PC for my tastes, but it does prove the point it sets out to and that always gains it extra points.

I'm about to rent/record/view "Vantage Point," but I fear it's an extra step and a half above on the PC meter, so I'm holding out for now. I'll probably read it out on Wiki first. Then I'll have to forget what I've read before I get the movie.

You know -- wait two hours or so before I add it to the queue...

OK - first, the home life situation: MLD is being bullied by another girl at school. It's a girl in her class and the bullying takes place pretty much any free time -- inside or during recess outside -- and it's so far just harassment. Which isn't any better to deal with at 8 years old but I gave her what I think is a reasonable answer:

"I'm an orange belt."

Apparently this bully takes great pride in confronting and questioning her fellow students about what words/terms they know or don't know. MY LOVELY DAUGHTER was recently upset because she wasn't able to define the term, "gay" for this bully. Which was just fine with me, frankly, but I fear that she now knows the definition.

So The Wif sat with her for almost an hour while the rest of us - including my folks - finished dinner. She got all the details about what was going on and soothed the (obvious) hurt feelings. I then got the full report and the next night devised my brilliant strategy. I explained it to MLD thus: 'no matter what she says, answer "I'm an orange belt." If she says that her shoes are purple or the sky is blue or that her favorite color is mauve, (whatever that is), just answer, "I'm an orange belt."'

I don't know how I came to this answer but I'll take it because it seems to handle most of what's going on here: first off, it builds up my Daughter; reaffirms her accomplishments. Second, I've told her that if that's the ONLY thing she ever tells this bully, she probably won't have to say it more than six times. Eight at the most before the bully gets tired of her because she's sick of hearing that phrase and knows she can't get under my Daughter's skin. She'll move onto someone else.

I also told her to say it as calmly as possible - without smiling or crying - and then immediately go back to whatever it was she was doing. I may also have mentioned that if it happens on the playground she should use the phrase and then start doing the form, ("Kata"), she knows the best and ignore the bully completely, but that's unclear to me now...

When I told her this - and continue to discuss it with her - she gets a wicked grin on her face, which isn't completely unexpected, but is counter-productive. I can't get her to understand the power of a calm, clear, confusing answer at this age. But maybe she'll learn it on her own, eventually.

And of other bullies, did anyone out there take note of the recent health care "summit?" What a joke. The fix was in and every Republican should have known that beforehand. But still, they showed up for this farce of a joke of a grandstanding display which would ultimately prove meaningless. Heck, I knew this: why didn't our representatives recognize it as well? It was an empty invitation to a meaningless meeting where they'd be ignored and ultimately disregarded.

And then... the White House, (has anyone else noticed how the LSM now says, "executive mansion" instead of "White House?" Strange, no?), brings out another bunch of acorn and seiu workers dressed in white lab coats, (sorry - "lab coats"), to play a doctor on TV. Where the little o lies while announcing that Republican ideas will be brought into the legislation.

Before urging the house to pass the senate version of the bill in order to avoid reconciliation. Or adding ANY of the Republicans' ideas to the bill.

This whole thing bites the wax tadpole. Let's pray that we can last until (not "till") November and send a real message towards the east coast.

MURPHY'S RULES OF COMBAT, ABRIDGED...

Friendly fire - isn't.
Recoilless rifles - aren't.
Suppressive fires - won't.
A sucking chest wound is Nature's way of telling you to slow down.
If it's stupid but it works, it isn't stupid.
Try to look unimportant; the enemy may be low on ammo and not want to waste a bullet on you.
If at first you don't succeed, call in an air strike.
If you are forward of your position, your artillery will fall short.
Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than yourself.
Never forget that your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
If your attack is going really well, it's an ambush.
The enemy invariably attacks on two occasions: a) When they're ready and; b) When you're not.
Five second fuses always burn three seconds.
There is no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole.
The important things are always simple; the simple are always hard.
The easy way is always mined.
Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy other people to shoot at.
Never draw fire; it irritates everyone around you.
When you have secured the area, make sure the enemy knows it too.
Incoming fire has the right of way.
No combat ready unit has ever passed inspection.
No inspection ready unit has ever passed combat.
If the enemy is within range, so are you.
The only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire.
Things which must be shipped together as a set, aren't.
Things that must work together, can't be carried to the field that way.
When a front line soldier overhears two General Staff officers conferring, he has fallen back too far.
If at first you don't succeed, then bomb disposal probably isn't for you.
Any ship can be a minesweeper . . . . once.
Whenever you lose contact with the enemy, look behind you.
If you find yourself in front of your platoon they know something you don't.
The more stupid the leader is, the more important missions he is ordered to carry out.
When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not your friend.
If you have a personality conflict with your superior: he has the personality, you have the conflict.
If you enter the CO's Presence with an idea, you will leave his Presence with the CO's idea.

...aside from public speaking, that is. (This should be just wonderful.)

The LSM is making me question JUST WHAT THE HELL is going on in schools today. How is it even possible that members of the so-called "media" are getting away with calling a one senator hold-out a filibuster? This is stuff I learned in third grade, but apparently these doorknobs who are trusted with microphones and to appear in front of a camera never learned what used to be called, "civics."

This might be a bit 'inside baseball' (and who the heck am I to talk about baseball?), but it has to be said. It's possible that those of you who get your news from the networks have bought into the lie that Senator Bunning, (Capitals Decided), is "filibustering" the extension of unemployment benefits. Which makes him worse than Satan himself, natch.

The problem with this line of rhetoric is that nobody seems to understand what a filibuster is anymore, and that's exactly what they're up to: confuse the issue, paint the one standing on principle as the kook trying to hurt the unemployed and demonize him. OK - I get that. But on to the facts...

A filibuster is something unique to the "upper house" of the congress. It's a tool that was built in by the Founding Fathers in order to slow things down and cause greater deliberation of an issue. It was originally designed so that two-thirds of the senate would be required to override the remaining one-third should any objection be raised. In other words, the senate was DESIGNED to slow things down. It's what they're there for.

Now, the senate is in control of their own rules and have changed them throughout the years; it now only takes 60 senators to filibuster a bill. Plus, they no longer have to stay up talking all night, (I remember seeing the TRUE filibusters as a child; old guys standing at a podium talking endlessly throughout the night; Yes, I was born a nerd). Now it's a simple "procedural understanding," involving "cloture" and a "full vote" and many other things that are lost on all too many people who are still allowed to vote.

BUT! It still should require an adherence to the language/rules, right? Well, not these days: today the LSM can pass off one single Senator as a "filibuster" because... well, just because they can.

That being said, let's address Senator Bunning's (former) stance: he was standing on the principle that since congress passed a bill requiring they pay for their programs as they went along, why wasn't this unemployment compensation being paid for? In other words, HE'S THE WORST PERSON SINCE HITLER!!

The so-called "pay-go" was going to be ignored and the Senator was standing his ground: good for him! The procedure is called "unanimous consent" and he decided that, rather than going along with the herd he'd like to have a debate, since "unanimous consent" means that the bill will be passed without discussion and without debate. And one Senator dared to stand in the way. There's a "YIKES!" moment for The One who promised All Would Come Together on his agenda.

Never mind that he folded, I suppose. The extra debt will amount to little extra in the long run. Maybe. But for now he made a stand and showed the idiots in the media for what they are.

And in the end he folded. Talk about a lost opportunity...

This may be somewhat stupid to mention but I found it really, really cool. I recently discovered that whichever day of the week my Mother's birthday falls on, so does mine. For example, if her birthday falls on a Sunday, so will mine. If hers falls on a Thursday, so will mine. I rolled back on the calendar for a decade to see if leap years affected this, but they didn't; same day, every year I checked.

Now I think that's pretty cool, myself. Of course, it took me almost 44 years and a printed usher's schedule for me to finally figure it all out. More research may be undertaken if I find myself wanting for work, (yeah, right), but a roughly 23% sample is pretty much proof enough in my mind.

Cool...

Tonight's karate class was interesting. Trying to get a 5 year old boy to stand still is tough enough: getting him to admit his error to an authority figure - such as a Karate Instructor - could be really tough. Fortunately, while he was standing next to me he finally confessed, and then the Instructor told him he'd have to return his "clip" for the night, (clips are awarded and collected, then "cashed in" for prizes), so he lost one.

The Instructor was great and did exactly what I thought she would do. With one twist; when she asked for his clip to be returned I took it and handed it... well, she grabbed for it. I handed it to D-Man instead and made HIM give it back to her.

I think the Instructor was at least slightly impressed by the idea and who knows? Maybe she'll incorporate that into any future instances of the like. I hope I never have to find out!

The details are in about the panel we'll be a part of. Well, at least the time and location. No idea as to whether we'll be sitting there alone or just be one couple among twelve others and might not have to field a single question from whatever crowd may show up.

Strangely, I think the not knowing is going to help me because I work better when I fly from the seat of my pants. I'm better on my feet and perhaps that will help me keep my lunch where it belongs.

We'll see that, too...

OK. So I'm back on the company clock tomorrow/today/Tuesday. It'll be interesting because the storms may have shut down various offices while I was off. This is sure to get me on the bad side of the boss, even though I have little control over the weather, (I can create very small, very localized rainstorms but only so long as the hot water holds out). I'm not sure what all happened and what sort of havoc all that Global Warming, ("algore be blessed!"), may have caused while I was out because I haven't been in touch with the office to find out.

Now, the reason I haven't been checking in with the office is two-fold: first, I'M ON LEAVE! If they're going to take the leave out of my balance (they will) I'll respect that arrangement and hold up my end of things from here. Second, I was - and still am - chasing a plumbing leak that has me creating a large hole in our kitchen ceiling. The leak has slowed and I'm half resigned to just keeping a pot on the counter for the foreseeable future but I know how long that will go over. I'm running a test to narrow down the source and we'll see what happens before I proceed with a repair, but it's been every bit as much fun as you imagine...

At any rate, Tuesday is our busy evening and I have to shoot out the door (figuratively) the second I'm off the clock to pick up the kids, stuff some food in their faces, get them changed and take them to Karate. Mommy comes home too late to do all that so of course it comes to me, which is fine. The job I signed on for, actually.

Of course all this happens after work and I honestly expect to be greeted by about 600 email messages before I can do any "real" work. It's going to be a long, long day...

In other news, the reason I had today off as my last one for a little while was so that I could help The Wif take the Monsters to the dentist, (collectively they're the Monsters; the boys are The Knuckleheads. Why the difference in capitalization? I have NOoooo idea). Once they went back to see the dentist I left the room to let The Wif read, went back to the car, got a drink of the soda from my breakfast, (nothing like flat, warm, watered-down Diet Coke®), and then ended up watching YouTube Richard Jeni videos via my phone in a secluded hallway of the office.

I know how to live, y'all!

And then I received a text message: apparently one of my children was finished. So I walked the twenty feet back to the office and came in to see D-Man playing with the toys. OK, so he's done; where are the rest of my children? Wait patiently, I guess.

AND THEN! The nurse or hygienist or guard or whatever she was came into the waiting room calling for my son. Did he leave his coat behind? Damage a wall? Bite the dentist? "We're not done" she said.

Great. I have Steve McQueen for a son. JUST! what I needed to hear.

He went back and eventually we were asked into an office. Turns out one of our kids was having a problem which was causing a problem for one of the dentists of the practice and we needed a meeting. We looked at the x-rays they'd just taken and it would seem that one of Bink's teeth is rotting from within. No cavities, but just a hollow molar root. He'll go through a root canal in just two weeks. Two of them, probably. All at just four years old.

The doc was a bit confused because the surfaces of his teeth showed no signs of decay, so how could the root be rotting away from underneath? We had a possible answer: he's a meth baby. Tested positive for meth, cocaine and mary-jane at birth. Could be a cause, no?

I've seen several studies which say that meth destroys teeth, but I've also seen studies that say that the addiction itself is responsible because it consumes people and they no longer care about any form of personal hygiene. Before today, I was willing to believe either one. Now I tend to lean in a certain way, as well you might imagine.

Like I said, he'll go get his tooth/teeth drilled/capped in two weeks and I wish I could be there for it. I don't think I can make it happen for reasons I'll get into in a minute...

AND THEN! (as we've become fond of saying 'round these parts), I was taking MLD home so she could get a shower and start on her homework when I noticed that The Wif was carrying The Knuckleheads in the same direction we were headed. Not completely unexpected since we were all headed in the same general direction, but I was rather surprised when she followed us into the driveway: she was supposed to be taking the boys to Karate, not bring them home.

So I asked what was up. Turns out that D-Man had stolen an extra toy from the dentist's office. One wasn't good enough, apparently; he wanted two. This ain't gonna fly around here. First off, we DON'T steal, (obviously). Secondly, we DON'T say "I want...". Lastly, we're expected to honor our Father and Mother, (I read that somewhere). He fell WAY short on all counts.

As a result, I "stole" his Transformers® laptop and left him in his room until dinner was ready. He cried and whined but eventually fell asleep. I told him he'd have to admit it to his Grandmother, (my Mother) and apologize, as well as tell his Karate instructor - and apologize - and miss Karate that night.

The interesting thing is that since D-Man was home in bed, Bink got to help lead Karate class; He was a ranking belt so the instructor brought him up to the front of the class to demonstrate various moves/forms to the white belts and new students. I hear he did great. Another proud moment alongside a serious fall, I guess.

More leave in the offing: I have news. Something I consider to be BIG news but the rest of whomever's left here will probably be unimpressed. We have been asked to speak at the University of Denver. More accurately, we will be part of a panel, (I hope), who will share adoption stories with -- with... -- uh... I don't know who. Apparently we'll be talking with some people about something about adoption.

I know, I know: don't bore you with details. But you now know as much as I do at this point. All I can say is, I hope they have a carpet shampooer, because if this turns out to be anything like my address to our church - people I already knew as opposed to addressing a group of strangers - I'm going to puke all over the table, podium, floor, The Wif and whichever unlucky soul should find themselves sitting next to me.

I do indeed hate this stuff, but it's for an infinitely important cause. So I can suffer for an hour or two.

After all, it's the job I signed on for. I've also been asked to write about our experience for a revised county website. I'm beginning to wonder if our former caseworker has faith in me or if she just wants to torture me.

Time will tell, I suppose...

I almost got drawn into a flame war with a troll today, but I soon realized what was going on: like the typical lefty, he believed he "knew" better than I what the "health." "care." "reform." legislation contained. He said I was a slave to "talking points" and didn't understand what was going on. I cited page 16, (look it up), (I know you won't). I then closed that tab and went onto other things: I opened and refreshed my email window only to see that the troll in question had already responded - TWICE - to my comment. This tells us several things:

First, he's a tiny little person with no power and no life but is desperate for both. How else do you explain that he responded within seconds to what I posted? He was sitting around just spoiling for a fight and the SECOND I responded he was right there, updating his Facebook page every minute, just waiting for a response to some dumb-arse comment he'd left earlier.

Second, he's either a college student or still stuck in that immature mentality: life is what it is and the responsible people have to take care of the losers. NO! We should take care of those who can't take care of themselves, but during World War II we learned that that's roughly two to three percent of the population. The rest CAN work, if they choose to.

And if you doubt that last paragraph, just try to go and buy a box of Sudafed®...

Third, if this guy isn't proof of projection, I can't imagine a better example. He proclaims FIE against all who speak against him and dismisses all arguments as mere "talking points" while spouting talking points to do so. (If he knew anything about The Bible, he'd be able to find a word for that.) He says that what it says isn't what it says. meh. I work for the legal office of the world's largest health care system; I think I've heard an analysis or two of the stupid bill. And unfortunately for the lefties, I've come to MY OWN conclusion.

Unlike them.

Fourth, I realize that good is good and bad is bad. Something that's lost upon this troll; he seems to think that "good" or "bad" is judged by the letter following a civil servant's name: "d" is "good" while "R" is immediately evil. That's a long way to say that relativism is, well, relative.

But truth lives on.

And now time to brag: My Lovely Daughter, (MLD), earned her Orange Belt (decided) on Saturday. The fix was in - kinda - but she has definitely earned it. She practices and leads her brothers, (as best she can), in their practice. She knows her forms and while it wasn't a perfect display, and I try to remember the school's unofficial motto: "progression, not perfection."

She did fine, tested WAY earlier than the instructor expected her to be ready and was the absolute BEST of the White Belts. And I have film to prove it. I'll be posting it to my Youtube account if any of you know how to access that. The GrandMothers will be receiving DVD's.

I couldn't help but glow as MLD worked her routine and then was belted. A prouder father would be difficult to imagine...