One

Wasted synapses
Scratched like a stuck record on
Old mendacity

This impossible ear

There’s no Fleishman’s this impossible ear
Gotta bake in the morning to avoid a self-sear
Cooling of the cast iron might just take a year
Hope you like fluffy bread more than fizzy beer

(Apologies to Brendon Urie)

Normally, Cy is the one who brings new, exciting things into our life.

Today, instead of going to my in-laws for Easter, and instead of Cy getting his required (and all-too-often-interrupted) Sunday afternoon nap, we went to the finals of the Dell Match Play tournament.

Between 12 and 13
Between 12 and 13

For all that I have given Dell over the years (Cy recently reminded me of a trip to the E.R. while I was working there wherein I couldn’t feel my legs…), from being their first webmaster (remember back when that was a thing in 1994?) to all the jobs since where we’ve purchased exclusively Dell (NetSuite being the singular, notable HP exception), to all our personal laptops (still loving my XPS 13 with infinity display!), today was another example of how we get paid back. (Aside from our cars, our house, and our daughter…)

Nicely wined, nicely dined. My fitbit hit it’s daily goal just as we walked in to the Chalet… then hit double that goal as we trudged back uphill!

Thanks to the in-laws for the faux-uber ride from my office (which you can see just over Cy’s left shoulder) to the game and back, but more importantly, thanks to them for the tupperware of homemade Potato Salad that was waiting for me when I got home!

But more than that – if you’ve actually read this entire diatribe, instead of just clicking “Like” on facebook, please let me know you read the article by copying and pasting the next paragraph/sentence as a comment:

J, you idiot – I bet you didn’t stretch before all that walking.

(Yes, I’m a little sore.)

Math homework, again the best part of my night.

When I pick G up from school, I always ask how her day was. For years, her answer has been “boring.” Recently, however, she’s accidentally messed up and replied “Great!” – especially when we’re bringing a friend home with her. Even more recently, she’s begun being completely honest, even asking for advice on how to deal with problems with friends. (My advice on that has ranged from “Take the high road”, to “I wouldn’t reward bad behavior with what they want”, to “That doesn’t sound like someone I’d bother being friends with anymore.”

I’m sure that sometimes my advice is followed, and sometimes ignored – I’m just glad that she is finding her own way, but still letting me into her life.

But even with all that, I still love when she comes downstairs to get help with math homework. Tonight was more awesome than usual – it was one page, front and back, about 10 problems in total. I help her work through them, but make her do all the thinking – I’m just here to guide and assist.

We get done in about 15 minutes. She flips the paper over, and says, “I thought that would take a lot longer.”

Daddy J for the win.

</drops mic>

 

Sunday is going to be one of the worst days of my life.

I’ve been friends with a couple of guys for 20 years now (since it’s 2016, officially). They’ve been best friends since long before I met them. Tonight, I got a call from one of them, confirming my worst fear – the other one is now officially in hospice, and is sinking fast, leaving behind a wife and young daughter. The phrase “too soon” is an understatement.

Those of you that have known me for any length of time will probably recall a time when there has been a stripping clown. This guy is the reason. Most of my memories of him involve me laughing to the point where inhaling air HURT. He is responsible for my antitheist preference for “I acknowledge your sneeze without further comment” over “Bless you.”

I have a “trophy shelf” in my office. On it are many mementos, such as the doorbell from my Grandma Tonne’s house (one of my earliest memories). On it also are at LEAST 3 items from when he and I worked together, not the least of which is a “mulimedia etch-a-sketch”. (The two others I can think of without going up there are “Catbert” and “Birdbert”…)

For the first time since he got sick, he wants visitors. For that reason alone, I fear that it will not be long before he is taken from us forever. I asked G to join us for the visit – and she, being the kind soul that she has always been, said, and I quote:

I want to go see him anyway. If you told me you were going I would probably ask to come.

My daughter, ladies and gentlemen. Even as my heart is breaking, it swells with pride. I’m trying to brace myself to be brave, and funny, and touching without being maudlin.  In the meantime, I’m going to watch some Marx Brothers films to lamely attempt to cheer myself up.

Bookmarks catchup/cleanup

It’s been much, much too long since I’ve cleaned up my bookmarks “other” folder; A simple dump is all that I can bother with at this size.

I wish my daughter was having some fun growing up…

We whiled away a delightful and filling evening with Didi and Torsten, gorging ourselves on a delicious steak dinner and earlier munchies. Then, to top things off, G and her friend decided they wanted to bake some dessert while the menfolk sat on their asses and watched UT decimate Kansas.

Those of you who have watched “The IT Crowd” will understand that I’m telling you that what is on G’s face is chocolate.

And, as always, I remain convinced that the best sound in the world is my daughter’s laughter.

IMG_20151107_214520

IMG_20151107_214525 IMG_20151107_214602

 

An economic technicality…

Technically, I never could boycott chick-fil-a, because I never ate there.

Similarly, I cannot support Doritos rainbow Doritos, because I don’t eat them anyway.

It’s probably too much to simply acknowledge that most sushi joints already have a “rainbow roll”…