facetiae

edge of your seat

2010-06-04T12:55:00.002-04:00

In Coco's class, the feature of this month's Family Friday was "Edge of Your Seat" stories, stories written and illustrated by the first graders. Madge's (four years ago) was, I think, about the time Coco was briefly lost in Las Vegas. (More like misplaced at a buffet, but still.)

Many of the kids' stories feature adventures involving swimming and, with retroactive memory being what it is, near-drowning experiences.

Coco's was about the time he "Almost got hit by a car." I had the privilege of typing it up, so I already knew the contents. And I didn't agree with some of the facts as they are reported to have transpired, but oh well. I didn't bring it up.

Among the things I didn't agree with was that I apparently said to him, after he was in safety (the danger was never really that great because the car was fairly distant, but the point was there and I admit I harped on it for effect - I figured it was a learning experience), anyway, I was supposed to have said, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

I said no such thing, nor would I. Ninja, please.

When Julie asked him about it, Coco freely admitted making that part up to make the story better.

Tell that to all the parents who read his piece and now won't talk to me anymore.*

*I embellished that bit, too, for effect. So I can't really blame him now, can I?

new post, oh my

2010-06-04T12:09:00.002-04:00

I know, I know. I'm so busy trying to get my little observations down to a 140 character size that I'm totally neglecting the bloggy blog.

Sorry about that.

New things that are piling up around here, well...

Kids get bigger and outgrow shoes and clothes and all of a sudden look like little adults. Or even not so little adults.

And yet, the end of the school year approaches, which for some reason means half-days are popping up all over the place, as well as end-of-year celebrations and the odd day off. No way really to wrap up the year.

Now I'm even behind on vacation planning. Can that be right?

you from here?

2010-05-02T19:05:00.002-04:00

I was out last night, in a neighborhood I don't usually frequent, waiting for a show to start.

Some tourists approached me and said, "Are you from around here?"

Guessing that they'd want local insight from me, I said, "No, not really."

Because, really, I live about 100,000 people away from where I was and I don't know that neighborhood. Or, more specifically, not those blocks of that neighborhood, and in New York (and other cities) that can make all the difference (these people, I think, were not from a city).

Their spokeswoman, a blonde with a southern-ish accent (maybe Missouri) said, "Oh, because you look like you live in New York."

Foolishly (given her intoxication level as indicated by her lack of personal-space-respect and slurred speech), I tried to clarify. "Well, I live in New York, but I don't know this neighborhood."

"Too bad," she said, and then added in a condescending tone "we were hoping you could tell us where we can hear some music without a fifteen dollar cover charge."

I'm New York-y enough to boldly answer something like that. So I did. "Try the subway; the music's pretty good and the cover charge is only $2.25 a person."

culture clash

2010-04-13T19:13:00.002-04:00

When the grandparents were here we went to Ellis Island.

Just before we were to board, the kids, as is their wont, got hungry, so I made a quick dash to a nearby hot dog stand. At the stand were some British tourists, discussing what to put on their weenie in a bun.

Wife [to husband]: Do you want mustard or sauce?

Husband: Sauce.

Wife [to vendor]: Two hot dogs, please. One with mustard and one with timahtoe.

See what happened there? Among(st) themselves, they speak of "sauce." Then, to translate the term to American English, they use "timahtoe," their variant of tomato.

Never in the whole exchange did "ketchup" or "catsup" enter the discussion. The vendor was obviously seasoned and took it in stride, giving them both "sauce."

Mary Poppins

2010-04-11T20:54:00.002-04:00

I didn't mean to get tipsy during the musical we saw on Broadway, it just kind of turned out that way.

I'm a lightweight drinker, that needs to be stated up front. Then, the details:

We went to see Mary Poppins on Saturday at the New Amsterdam, the matinee at 2 pm. We got inside and saw a snack stand and got some Twizzlers and whatnot.

Then we got upstairs to our balcony area and saw a snack and drink bar. And of course I marveled at the fact that they had real drinks. I say "they," but I should be saying "she," since that may have something to do with the tipsiness.

We found our seats and Madge realized she was thirsty, so I went out to get her some juice and me a Twix bar. And of course I marveled at the fact that they had real drinks.

Then I got back and Coco discovered what happened and got thirsty, too. So I went back again and once more marveled at the fact that they had real drinks. This time she pointed out that if I got a drink now I'd get three bucks off a refill.

I never needed the refill because, I think, all my marveling - which included smiling, cracking jokes, and being as charming as my limited capacity allows me to be - made her pour me a rather strong Scotch and Soda.

Julie said it tasted like lighter fluid. I say it was good. And I'm sure it made the show even more enjoyable.

rhyming

2010-03-31T10:14:00.002-04:00

I told the kids, "Give me a good word."

Coco came up with: "Thank you."

Madge came up with: "Perpendicular."

I wanted the word for rhyming purposes, so we'll see what happens.

If manipulative or polite,

there's one thing that boychild gets right.

He thinks, "Words, if I'd have to rank you,

then top of the list would be 'thank you.'"

In mishaps you should be particular.

Avoid crashes quite fast and vehicular.

Best of the batch

is a wee little scratch.

Worst is driver's side, hard, perpendicular.

tadaa!

movies, again

2010-03-31T09:24:00.001-04:00

Oh, finally some sun.

Unfortunately, I already promised another trip to the movies.

But at least we won't have to take a car service today, but take a nice walk.

Well, "nice" is yet to be determined.

Time to learn

2010-03-30T09:07:00.003-04:00

Often the kids leave plates and cups out with uneaten food and undrunk drinks. I know I shouldn't take a quick bite or sip before I toss them out, but I can't help myself. You know, I'm not really eating sweets or drinking milk if I'm just sampling a bit of theirs.

Well,

the other night Coco had just flossed his teeth and I was clearing a cup from the table and the milk in it seemed a little watery when the couch (peopled by Julie and Coco and Madge) erupted with giggles and I heard,

"Daddy just drank my spit!"

And then there was a half-hour of guffawing. If only I could translate something like that into a stage act, I'd have it made.

sorry, daddy

2010-03-16T13:36:00.003-04:00

Last week's Economist has a cover story of a strong Germany in Europe, perhaps implying that this might be a bad thing. Hm. Wonder why?

In unrelated news, Madge is reading historical fiction in her class and every once in a while they talk about the persecution of the Jews.

It's cute in the sense that every time she talks about it she pauses and shrugs before she says, "Nazis" or "Germans." It's cute because she's essentially apologizing to me for bringing up what she fears might be a shameful event in my personal past.

Whereas when they were talking about slavery, she was mostly indignant when talking about it.

Am I to feel more guilty for Germany's history than the U.S.'s? Or is it because it's more recent?

But I'm just being flip. I know she feels bad that it's all anyone over here ever thinks of when the words "Germany" or "Nazis" arise.

Velkomm to ze Klabb.

Old Man L.

2010-03-08T13:09:00.003-05:00

That's what I called him, a sort of shorthand for the kids.

He was a ninety-plus gentleman from Vienna whom I read to when his eyesight had gone too far. Until he couldn't concentrate on listening anymore, that is.

The first thing we read was a scene from Goethe's Faust. Then we found some Gottfried Keller, which turned out to be too long for us. Then some Karl Kraus. Then some poetry. Then some music theory by Kauder. But again and again we came back to Goethe.

One day he called me up and recited a poem by Goethe, one that I believe my Oma really liked near the end of her, life, too.

Wanderers Nachtlied

Ueber allen Gipfeln

ist Ruh.

In allen Wipfeln

spuerest du

kaum einen Hauch.

Die Voegelein schweigen im Walde.

Warte nur, balde

ruhest du auch.

(Traveler's Night Song

Above all peaks

is rest.

In all treetops

you feel

hardly a breath.

The little birds hush in the woods.

Just wait, soon

you, too, shall rest.)

What do you say to something like that? I prompted him along as he was reciting it (because I had memorized it after I found out Oma liked it), and then I applauded his memory.

Occasionally when we'd read he'd remember a line or two and anticipate my reading. Always very choice lines: he was an astute person.

Yes, was. You may have already guessed where this was headed. He passed away over the weekend.

One such anticipation was (again Goethe):

Ja! diesem Sinne bin ich ganz ergeben,

Das ist der Wahrheit letzter Schluss:

Nur der verdient sich Freiheit wie das Leben,

Der taeglich sie erobern muss.

(To this meaning I am devoted,

this is Truth's final conclusion:

Only he earns Freedom and Life

Who daily must conquer them.)

Go out and conquer.

family friday shocker

2010-03-05T12:17:00.003-05:00

That's the day of the month when parents get to go into the kids' classrooms to see what they're up to.

Coco had writing samples for me to read. Great stuff, really. He seems to be excited about writing because on almost every page he continues past the given lines and writes on the back of the pages. Highly enjoyable.

He still writes things phonetically, so sumtims its a littul hard to figyur owt whut his ritting.

One of his pieces was about "sludding" in the park. The hill needed a bump to be more "iksiting." To his surprise, luckily, "I saw a rape!"

Holy sh*t, I thought, choking and laughing at the same time, what am I introducing him to?

Where was I in all this?

Then I realized that it was his way of writing "ramp."

Phew.

the star of the show

2010-03-04T08:48:00.002-05:00

I had a lovely talk with Madge while walking to and from the library last week. Getting her away from distractions like books, screens, and little brothers is the best way to hang out with her. She was fun and silly and open and all those lovely things.

We got to talking about how everyone is the star of the show of their life and other people only have walk-on parts and that we're a walk-on part in the life of almost everyone we see. And not even credited.

Because for me, my life, apparently, is either a movie or a sitcom, not sure which.

Then she said, "Yeah, or my life's a video game and I get to choose everything."

And I said to myself, hang on, your life is a video game?

But of course it is, and for the next generation their life is going to be an iPhone app.

What does this mean for previous generations? Were their lives radio dramas, novels? And earlier than that, my life: the epic poem? My life: the sermon?

But now that it's tax season, it's more like My life: the line item on Schedule F.

movie quotes

2010-03-02T18:33:00.001-05:00

Not the newest, I know, but I can't resist. Serafinowicz is great.

lung infection and strep fallout

2010-02-25T13:00:00.004-05:00

I don't recommend it, but at least it's an enforced weight-loss program.

And I think I passed some sort of threshold in that respect because some random person on the street yesterday asked me if I was on TV. I was in a bit of a hurry, so I truthfully said "No."

And he apologized. Why would you apologize after an indirect compliment like that.

Wait.

Maybe the lack of food is just making me optimistically light-headed. You see all sorts of characters on TV, don't you?

Shoot.

ack-kpflt

2010-02-19T14:41:00.002-05:00

I'm not saying you should feed your cat pop-rocks on purpose, though you may want to just in the name of science.

My sister and nephew sent Coco some German Spongebob lollipop-to-be-dipped-in-sour-pop-rocks treat. (Thanks, Tina and Jannik!) Unfortunately, the lollipop broke during shipping, so I poured everything out on a plate so Coco could still enjoy the sweetness and the head rush.

The cat, of course, bode (really? not bided, spell-check? hm.) his time and sneaked a little taste later in the day. I missed the initial face he made because I was out of the apartment, but I came home to the cat racing around with a puffed tail, and the kids and Julie suppressing laughter.

Who's keeping track? Was that life number three for our cat?

countdown

2010-02-18T09:25:00.003-05:00

I'm not saying it's parents vs. kids, mind you, but sometimes...

Parenting, like the last two minutes of a basketball game, has a lot of set plays ready, depending on what the score is. And, in general, the whole day is structured to get into a good position for those crucial last moments.

I'm talking about getting the kids into bed. Daily activities, meals, school work, treats, baths, etc. all line up for that crucial final struggle to bed. On regular days I have things in place for the following exchanges:

Can I still...?

No.

But I just...

No.

But I have to...

Well, you had plenty time earlier. Lesson learned, right?

But I'm still hungry.

You didn't seem hungry at dinner.

And so on.

But when the parents are sick, all of our answers tend to be a mix of "unh" "ack" and "okay, whatever," making bedtime more and more prolonged and the kids less and less rational.

"I wanna sleep in my swimsuit on the dining table."

"ack"

"Can I have some brownies now? And then use the rest of the brownies as my pillow?"

"unh"

"I'm cold. Do you have some fives I can set on fire?"

"Okay, whatever"

In other words, don't ask about last night.

dang me, dang me, they ought to take a rope...

2010-02-14T09:32:00.004-05:00

I'm as sorry about Alexander McQueen's death as anyone who has never met the guy and doesn't really know much about him.

But something like that does set you thinking: why is there a difference between hanged and hung.

Both refer to a similar physical act of suspension, right?

Hanged, I looked it up just to make sure, refers to the execution of a death sentence. Then, I don't know when, suicides got tacked on. At least that's how it appears in the dictionaries I've seen. Is it because so many suicidal hangings occurred in jail cells? Or because it is a death sentence to oneself?

Either way, saying "hung" instead of "hanged" seems - nowadays - to be a victimless grammatical crime. I mean, the person whom it most affects is not around to complain. It's like those people who tell me not to call a spider an insect, "It's an arachnid!"

I'll bet spiders don't give a flying filament either way. They probably call themselves a collection of clicks that means "the tribe" or "winners" or some such.

Back to hanging. Sure, it could offend those who passed the death sentence by suspension, but those days are gone, we have more sophisticated methods now.

It makes me wonder, though, having kids, how that word came about.

I'm guessing in the days of the Wild West the lynch-mob justices were as grammatically savvy as Coco when he was three, and when they came home after a hard day of justice-dispensing and were asked what they did, they answered,

"Oh, we hangded a cattle thief."

Latinists Help Out, Please

2010-02-09T10:43:00.003-05:00

I'm trying to come up with a truthful family motto, and I think it should be

abbas poena est umquam ridiculus.

But my knowledge of Latin is limited to Asterix comics, so I'm not sure if that works. It's supposed to mean: It's always funny when daddy gets hurt. I tried to make it sound more Latin-y by making it "father's pain is ever laughable" and typing that phrase into an internet translator. Any of you remember Latin from school, those of you who took it and didn't skip too often?

Anyway, yesterday I was listening to my iPod while the kids were watching Star Wars (the one with the Ewoks, III or VI or whatever you want to call it) because Madge was home, sick, and deserved a treat. (Why she chose Star Wars remains a mystery.) I was feeling chilly, so I got a fleece blanket and pulled it over me and

ZAP!

the freaking blanket generated static that shot through the wires into my left ear with a KAPATKAPOWPATANG and a stream of expletives from my mouth and guffaws from the kids.

I'm also taking suggestions for the family crest under which the motto shall appear.

I'm thinking of a silhouette of a man hopping on one foot while holding the other that got injured by a stray toy or table leg. Simpler is better, so I think the crest will avoid children and spouse convulsing in laughter.

(Seriously, do any of you know Latin enough to help out? Should it be semper ridiculus? Is there a way to leave out the inelegant-looking "est"?)

sorry to do this, but:

2010-02-05T14:35:00.000-05:00

take a deep breath and listen to this

you're welcome

skating party

2010-02-03T09:57:00.003-05:00

I'm going to get my skates today so I can go on the fifth grade field trip to the skating rink in the park. I like having my own skates because only my feet have been in them.

But carrying them around all over the place just to save $5 is a pain.

Also, it gives the impression that I can skate when, clearly, my performance on the ice says everything but. (Actually, it says all butt, because that's what has the most contact with the ice.)

The kids, I think, get to bring in their music to be played. This being Park Slope, I'm looking forward to ice dancing to Isolde's Love Death, followed by the Chipettes cover of Single Ladies.

wildlife photography

2010-02-01T12:42:00.004-05:00

Our fun with pre-production photo-shopping. That's why we have digital toys around, so we can make random air-collages.

(I'm especially proud of the one with the cat, even though that stinker turned his head and is still partially in the photo - blows your mind, right?)

Hairdresser and Me

2010-01-28T17:52:00.002-05:00

I don't seem to be physically appealing to too many people.

Wait. Stop. Let me rephrase that.

I am totally clueless about how physically appealing I might or might not be to most people. I'm not fishing for compliments, though it really sounds like it right now.

Occasionally it's glaringly obvious, though. For instance when I got my haircut and my "stylist" was sweeping up, he said, "What should I do with all this hair? Maybe I should sell it. Maybe I should make a Philipp doll."

And I said, "Yeah, like a voodoo doll. I'll be walking along and, OW! Who did that?"

He laughed and then he stopped laughing and then he gave me a once over and laughed in a different way.

Let me just say it made me miss living in San Francisco.

cohohold

2010-01-28T17:49:00.002-05:00

I didn't often feel sorry for cops, only having experienced them as the people who hand out speeding and parking tickets. But there's one who is patrolling the playground across the street and, man, I was freezing my toesies and fingersies (and, yes, gonads) while watching the kids play.

The cop had been there a while and was bound to be there longer. He was of substantial girth, so I can only imagine how huge is when fully thawed.

Granny Fleece Nose Shock

2010-01-25T14:36:00.003-05:00

That's the note on my desk reminding me to write something about the gift that keeps on giving.

Julie got a fleece jacket from my mom for Xmas and likes to wear it around the house to keep warm.

This is well and good, except when I try to kiss her: invariably it results in a quick zap between the tips of our noses.

Interpretation A: My mom has hatched an evil long-distance plan to interfere with our kissing.

Interpretation B: It's not the fleece. We've still got the spark, baby!

(I prefer B)

The holiday

2010-01-18T22:05:00.002-05:00

Julie reported that Conrad thought MLK was actually a king. And, when she told him MLK wasn't, Coco said that he acted liked one because he wanted things to be better for his people.

Just shows that he hasn't learned about the American Revolution yet. Or French or Russian or ...

But still, sweet.

On a different note, I'd never given much thought to Juniors - in the sense of sons burdened by (or blessed with) the name of their father - until I read Roy Blount, (surprise, surprise) jr.

I think I remember him making a point about a higher percentage of Juniors becoming something (president, maybe?) than the percentage of the independently named population. Sounds fair. Bit of an Oedipal challenge going on in the naming process, I guess. One step short of calling a son "Sue" (like that Shel Silverstein - and Johnny Cash, yes - song).

But with today's holiday the whole thing flips the whole JFK / JFK jr. thing on the head, because we tend to celebrate the father whom we don't actually know by being too lazy to append the whatever-it's-called: suffix, postnymic, diminuator, take your pick (or look it up and tell me in the comments).

Happy MLK, jr. Day.

Fun with first grade dictation

2010-01-14T12:24:00.002-05:00

Coco has dictation homework.

I've noticed lately that the sentences sound like some Cold War spy code, and we've started reading them like that.

It's my free parenting tip to you. Makes it more exciting, especially if you make your kid write it like it's a secret and you keep looking furtively over your shoulders as you're whispering the sentences.

For example (these are from his homework):

The kids will nap on the cot. I repeat: on the cot.

The shells are red. I repeat: The SHELLS are red.

The dogs have been fed. The DOGS have been FED.

And yesterday I added the flourish that, when I see him crossing out a word, I jump up and shout, "Abort! Abort!" and run away.

Ah, good times.

Daddy's weird songs

2010-01-12T21:03:00.003-05:00

I have so many soft spots for so many things, I feel like an old banana, ready to be mashed up and baked into Daddy-bread.

One of my many soft spots if for witty, yet maudlin country songs like "The Last Word in Lonesome is Me."

Another is this one:

I was playing it on the guitar tonight but was struggling to remember the second verse, so I went through the beginning a few times to see if I could get the hang of it, and after the second time, Madge started singing along. And believe me, it's strange to hear your daughter sing, "It was always to easy to find an unhappy woman till I started looking for mine."

I asked her if she knew what she was singing and I think she said something about there being a lot of unhappy women, but you can't find them or some such, it didn't make much sense to me. But, then again, the actual lyrics and the explanation I gave (which is clearer in the second verse) didn't make much sense to her. Luckily.

I drove to the park

Lord I searched all the bars

where I made out with love too many times

It was always to easy to find an unhappy woman

Till I started looking for mine.

Some beer-drinking devil

is holding my angel*

and I know what he'll do if he's my kind.

It was always so easy to find an unhappy woman

Till I started looking for mine.

Her note on the door

said, "I warned you before

"what I'd do if you cheated one more time."

It was always so easy to find an unhappy woman

till I started looking for mine.

Some beer-drinking devil

is holding my angel

and I know what he'll do if he's my kind.

It was always so easy to find an unhappy woman

till I started looking for mine.

*At this point Coco said, "Ha-ha. Get it? Devil - angel. Like the two figures on your shoulders." Works for me.

Zing! White(r) Teeth!

2010-01-11T16:14:00.002-05:00

This New York househusband has the secret.

Go to your dentist. When she asks if you have any concerns, tell her that you don't really, but you wouldn't mind having whiter teeth.

Then wait.

At some point she will say that their dental office is trying out different bleaches and you seem to be a good test subject.

(I forgot to mention that you might get indirectly insulted about your yellow teeth along the way.)

Say, "Okay," and forget about it.

At the next cleaning she'll tell you they're ready with the bleaches and you can come in the next day if that works for you.

(I also forgot to mention that it involves bleaching half your teeth with one brand and the other half with another, so there's a potential of coming out of it looking like you're wearing a mouth guard of some team whose colors are off-white and off-off-white.)

Bring your iPod, doze off in a chair with your mouth held open for two hours, and tadaaah!

(I also forgot to mention that she will say some things about potential temporary chemical burns on your gums in a very offhand way, making the initial sitting still period a little difficult.)

And you're done! Total cost: two subway rides and a handshake.

I went from an A3 to a B1. (Does that sound right? It's what I remember, anyway. Does that mean anything to anyone? Those were the colors of teeth that she thought matched mine.)

But if I'd been told beforehand that I'd have to sip my coffee or tea through a straw because they are sensitive to staining for a while, I'm not so sure I'd have agreed.

If I seem extra grumpy, it might be the *&%$!! caffeine withdrawal.

ripped off again

2010-01-04T20:31:00.003-05:00

I don't know what to do now. We're not going to make another kid, but neither of our kids lost a first tooth in our presence.

Madge lost hers in first grade during class and so did Coco, today.

Lithp theathon hath commenthed.

detective story, maybe

2009-12-27T17:17:00.002-05:00

The facts:

At 00:30 on Dec. 26th, a crash awakened Julie (and me, eventually).

Inspection revealed the Christmas Tree had fallen.

We have an annoying cat who doesn't stay away from things and has been batting ornaments ever since we got the tree.

The tree was taller than last year's tree.

It was cheaper than last year's tree, perhaps indicating that it's wood was softer.

The tree stand is (now: was) one year older than it was last year and less maneuverable and still as small.

The tree has been leaning a little more every day.

It fell in the most convenient direction for cleanup, meaning the most accessible direction. This was also the direction where most ornaments were hung, probably because it was the most accessible direction.

Other facts, less relevant to figuring out who did it:

The cleanup took about 45 minutes.

The carpet is finally dry, but still a little warped.

The needles are still everywhere.

We think we got all the ornament shards.

We appreciate that it didn't happen during the previous night.

The tree now resides in the street in front of the building.

The tree stand now resides in the garbage.

The cat still resides with us.

Conclusion:

The cat probably did it.

the gym

2009-12-22T21:13:00.002-05:00

I went to the gym today. Yay, me. Had a brief celebrity sighting, but that's neither here nor there.

There was a guy shaving his entire head when I went to take a shower. When I was done and shaved, too, he put cream all over his head. And he sang Christmas songs in a never ending medley. Well, never ending is exaggerated, since he paused to interject with advice and commentary on life in general. During this I learned that he made $70 singing carols the other day. But he wouldn't divulge where when I asked if I might sing there, too. Also, he implied I didn't have the voice for it. (For what it's worth, he had the showmanship, obviously, but his pitch didn't stay true throughout. Just saying.) Then he pointed out he'd probably make $200 on Christmas.

This was around 1pm. At 5:15pm, when we were there for Madgie's swim class, he was still at the gym.

So, if you're looking for a career choice, you might want to follow this guy around and learn. Among his many gems of wisdom was the observation that singing for money is better than going to jail. Then he said he didn't have the body for jail. Internally, I differed (otherwise how could he be working out for 4 hours), but I didn't think I had the time to actually engage him in a debate on this matter.

Plus, I had to make sure the celebrity was who I think it was.

more snowballs

2009-12-21T21:10:00.002-05:00

My back and legs are sore from bending and scooping, but somehow my arms are fine.

This popped into my mind after writing about the snowball fight. Not fully formed, of course. Just the first line, really. But then it wouldn't go away, so I tried to finish it. It helps if you know Goethe's "Wer nie sein Brot mit Traenen ass" from Wilhelm Meister, but you don't need to.

Wer niemals Schnee mit Traenen ass,

Wer nie nach eisigem Gefechte

Auf seinem Schlitten weinend sass,

Der kennt nicht meine vaeterlichen Maechte.

Ich fuehrt' euch in den Schnee hinein,

Ich liess euch kalt und hungrig werden,

Dann schmiss ich Schneebaelle: gemein.

(Denn Papa schaemt sich nicht auf Erden.)

Well, the last verse was a little forced. Oh, well.

snowsnowsnow

2009-12-20T21:16:00.002-05:00

We were outside three or four times today, but never on any errands (except for me - and work for Julie). I mean the kids and I were out. So now there's extra laundry because of the snow soaked pants and gloves. They've gotten progressively better about dealing with frozen faces and fingers - and my aim has gotten better in the sense that I haven't beaned them in the schnozzle for a while. But now I'm exhausted from making snowballs for everyone and then making hot cocoa - and because I hadn't been able to go to the grocery store I didn't have Swiss Miss and had to use the good Dutch Cocoa powder and sugar and milk - Daddy's stash thrown before the masses.

the boys

2009-12-20T21:14:00.003-05:00

Here's a conversation Coco and I had at bedtime.

Coco: What did Mommy say?

Me: She said I should knock before I come in the bedroom.

C: Why?

M: I think she's wrapping a present she doesn't want me to see.

C: I think you're probably in trouble.

M: What, you think I'm going to have spend a long time talking tonight?

C: Yeah.

snowballs

2009-12-19T21:54:00.002-05:00

Some parenting difficulties are almost too weird to explain.

It snowed today, yippee! I love snow. Always have, especially because I've always had a warm-ish place to come home to. We're a little stingy in the heating department, but the near frostbite of being outside too long makes you appreciate a lukewarm apartment.

My problem is this. The kids want to have snowball fights, but, understandably, they don't want to get hit in the face. Not really a problem; I aim at their bellies and below.

But kids are short. And though they've been informed that I'm not aiming at their heads, they duck. And ducking is, by definition, a downward movement.

Not only that, out of twenty snowballs thrown, a few go off target; and when I miss, I tend to land a bullseye - or kidseye, as it were.

So tonight I made both kids cry in the snow. Pitiful, sobby, spittle-ridden, drooly WAAAAHs.

Because I whopped them both in the face with a ball that was packed harder than they can pack so I can aim better to miss them in the first place.

Sheesh.

full picture

2009-12-19T21:50:00.002-05:00

This morning we had the Mahalia Jackson Christmas Album playing, and in the middle of "Sweet Little Jesus Boy" I heard, "awooawla-awooawla-awawawaaawla" and thought, "why are the kids making fun of Mahalia Jackson?" But then the "pth-pkpth-pkk-pkpthlawworp" told me the rest of the story and it turned out the cat had been nibbling too many pine needles off the tree and left me a trail throughout the apartment to clean up.

Here's the song. Hope it's not ruined for you. I still like it.

gym

2009-12-11T22:08:00.002-05:00

This week, the gym and I didn't have too great a relationship. Either I've been too busy running errands or I've forgotten my lock or my goggles. Not for my welding class, but for swimming.

And now that gifting season is among us, my phone kept singing at me from the locker as I as shaving or dressing or undressing or whatever happened in-between. The downside of having a ringtone song you like is letting the phone ring a trifle too long because you want to hear it all.

The other downside is that the mood of the song affects how I answer the phone.

So, ironically, when Julie calls I always answer in a goofy, giggly way because the Eroica symphony's funeral march is such a gas. No it's Spongebob singing "Best Day Ever."

I think it's backfiring, though. Tonight she called to say her flight's delayed and I may have sounded a bit too happy.

fell asleep too soon

2009-12-09T09:27:00.003-05:00

Sorry I didn't update last night, but for some reason I fell asleep with the kids.

The kids had swim class which drags on through the whole afternoon because the only scheduling I could get was both kids on the same day but 45 minutes apart.

And Coco has two kids in his group who are pains in the rear. So much so, he doesn't want to do the class anymore because of them - and because they make the teacher shout. I've told the teacher and she's sweet about it and said he could join the neighboring class - but it's a lower level, so he doesn't want to. Yesterday seems to have gone better. I did talk to the two troublemakers before class.

I'm conflicted about it. On the one hand, I just want Coco to deal with it, but on the other hand I'm not willing to accept his way of dealing with it - namely, not going to class anymore. So who knows, it may have helped. They MIGHT not have known that they're ruining it for everyone rather than just "having fun" by riling up the teacher. ("I didn't do it." "Oops, I fell in the water." "Oops, I splashed the others." ...)

Last night we wrote letters to Santa. Madge isn't done yet. This year, though, we have the advantage that they wanted to write them on the computer and print them out, so there's a saved version and I don't need to be as attentive as to what goes into the rapidly sealed envelope.

And now it's raining rather than snowing, because New York just doesn't seem to like to mix freezing temperatures with precipitation.

colder here

2009-12-07T22:02:00.002-05:00

Sheesh, and I neglected to turn on the heat while the kids were at school because I kept thinking I'd leave the apartment. I finally did, once I found out when a certain store opened, but it opened later than I expected.

At this special kind of year, with the kids as internet-savvy as they are, all I can say is that I went to a place to do something - nudge, nudge - and now I still need to do something else somehow but I'm not sure what. And the something is somewhere now.

But I think I've already given away too much. I'll change topics.

Coco is missing Julie a lot this time around. It's manifesting itself by him missing me while he's at school, but when I asked him about missing mommy it all came out. This is meant to make you feel missed and loved, not guilty, Julie. Fine line, I know. Psych majors, have at it.

There were play dates this afternoon, but they weren't long. No TV, but mostly because they're both obsessed with a friend's DS cartridge.

It belongs to Coco's friend, but Madge just asked him today if she could borrow it and he said yes.

Maybe related: we watched "Yes Man" with Jim Carrey last night. He's in the movie; he didn't come over. Sundays are bad for him; he's coming for lunch tomorrow. (Bwah-BWAAH)

I think Madge may be taking some of the message of the movie to heart. Who knows? I am, but now - just in order to make the checkout person laugh - I'm stuck with a red pepper that was left behind and not reshelved by the previous shopper. How this piece of life-affirmation with play out, I'm not sure. Probably in a salad. But I might have to say "Yes" to some lunch specials first.

more updates

2009-12-06T20:46:00.002-05:00

Yep, Julie's out of town, which means there will be more kid news here.

She flew out early this morning.

Usually, I'm a big fan of pacing myself, having learned some sort of lesson about planning for bedtime while making breakfast. (Pancake sugar high must be balanced by exercise to be brought down by screen time which can buy some grocery shopping ennui to be traded for another sugar high and activity followed by an explosive fight and more food and a bath - you get the drift.)

But today I was going at it like a divorced man with monthly weekend privileges.

We started out the day with pancakes, grabbed the DS games and headed on the subway for Macy's where we stood in line - or on line, since we're becoming more NooYoawkified - for the length of a Lord of the Rings movie and saw Santa. Coco wants a skateboard - no news - and Madge wants a computer - not really news though the Christmas focus of said desire is hair-raising. Then lunch at the Macy's buffet in the basement, followed by new shoes for Coco at the Skechers store (he tried on three pair, what a big boy) and a failed attempt to get him a new winter coat to match Madge's new one and, finally, on the way home, I figured why not and we stopped at Union Square to see whatever played first, Mr. Fox or Planet 51. Mr. Fox was sold out so went all out and splurged for tub -yes, a TUB - of popcorn and had a fairly pleasant nap until Madge woke me and told me I can't sleep during a movie. hmph.

Then home and noodles and some TV and flossandbrushandbed. Boom.

And tomorrow they get their regular dad back. I won't shave so I'll seem extra mean.

our modern age

2009-12-05T22:01:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure how to write this up, but Julie and I had an insight the other night. I would have marked the date because of its momentousness, but we were too exhausted from all the thinking and mental assembling we did.

Coco saw his music teacher and told in an odd tone - a tone of marvel and mystery - that his music teacher's name is Mr. McG- and that he is married and that his wife's name is - at this point he looked around furtively - Mrs. McG-.

Julie and I were wondering why he thought this was important and secretive to point out when we realized-

-He thinks there's something incestuous about a husband and wife having the same last name.

Of course, in today's time, when his own parents and most of his friends' parents have different last names, the only way a married couple would share a name after saying "I do" was if they already had the same name beforehand.

Blows your mind, doesn't it?

I wonder what he's been thinking about all his grandparents all this time. But he probably doesn't know that they even have last names.

one step forward, two back

2009-12-04T14:29:00.002-05:00

Or the other way around? I don't know.

At the beginning of the week Coco was gung-ho about wanting a sleep-over. This meant that he was willing to try and fall asleep on his own. And he did so, even though it prolonged his bedtime substantially.

As a result, though, he's been having major separation issues the following days and said, among other things,

"Daddy, I missed you so much, before the door opened at school, I cried off my a**."

Yes, he inverts the position of the preposition to the derriere, and no, he does not speak in asterisks.

He also said, "Guess how much I missed you? So much. No. More. More than the biggest building."

No guilt, though.

I'm biased, but I think it's amazing

2009-12-02T10:17:00.003-05:00

This needs a little explanation, but not much. Madge and Julie were shopping for new clothes. Madge was in the dressing room, trying on the new items while Julie was out looking for more. Julie left her private cell phone with Madge and kept her work phone so they could get in touch if they needed.

So Madge sent this picture and this message: Nothing wrong.What do u think?

Amazing, is what I think (but you knew that). How does a girl do this? Not only is she rationally trying on clothes before buying them (and trust me, she routinely discards them - Thank you, Clinton and Stacey from What Not To Wear), but she was sensitive enough to alert Julie that there's no emergency.

What a kid.

Cold Turkey

2009-11-30T11:56:00.002-05:00

I'm having turkey again. Who knew?

See, what happened was that I ordered turkey breast but it didn't have the bone in, so I got a turkey at the store. And, as you know, the later you get a bird, the bigger it is, so we got one that was around 16 pounds. It was great. Still is, that's the point.

And thanks to enlisting the friend who was over (and brought awesome pecan pie), we now call gravy "Yummy Steve Sauce." Email me and I can give you the recipe for "Yummy Steve Sauce." Heh, heh.

Anyway, it seems odd that "going cold turkey" means abstaining entirely from the addictive substance, when in real life cold turkey seems to last forever and translates to a kind of overdose.

stars, I tell you, stars

2009-11-25T16:14:00.001-05:00

Go to (or wait for) the 50 second mark (and, briefly, 1:31).

新唐人電視台 http://www.ntdtv.com

basketball

2009-11-23T19:02:00.002-05:00

The oddest thing. When we go to baseball games, Madge tunes out.

But the basketball we saw this weekend was right up her alley. The noise, the excitement, and the Newcastle on tap.

Wait. The last one was me.

Conrad was not as sold on the event, but I think that's because we timed the cotton candy intake badly. He had his face sticky by the end of the first quarter and the game went into overtime. Or, in sugar-high terms: 23 minutes into The Crash.

Still fun, though. Now if only the local team were any good...

oboyoboy

2009-11-17T21:09:00.003-05:00

By now I think you know I fall behind on posting when we have guests or we are on vacation or the kids are sick - basically when I don't have a prolonged period of alone time.

Today was one of the first days in a while that I've been able to sit here and type and now, of course, I'm not sure what to write about.

We had swimming again today and it was the first time of the new session that both kids were fit to swim. Jeez, what a day. While I was able to schedule both on the same day, there's a 45-minute gap between the classes, so we don't get home from 8:20am to 6pm. Which can be a lot. Especially if one of us is still recuperating from a week of fever and cough.

But we made it.

In different news, I've decided to try to learn a few more things by heart, partly because I get bored on solo walks around the neighborhood and partly because my lengthy ear-popping cold has gotten me off the iPod for a while.

I've learned all of Burns' "To a Mouse" - with accent and all - and was starting on Arnold's "Dover Beach" when I realized that "Dover Beach" doesn't flow off the tongue as well. I like it, but I can't figure out how to say it right.

You can't prove it (other from my mangled punctuation), but this is the last verse from memory:

Ah, love, let us be true

to one another. For the world which seems

to lie before us in a land of dreams

so various, so beautiful, so new

hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

and we are here as on a darkling plain

swept by confused alarms of struggle and flight,

where ignorant armies clash by night.

I also learned - perhaps you sense a theme - the beginning of Yeats' "Second Coming":

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

the falcon cannot hear the falconer.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world;

the blood-dimmed tide is loosed; and everywhere

the ceremony of innocence is drowned;

the best lack all conviction; while the worst

are full of passionate intensity.

I should go back to Pippa's Song, no?

I welcome suggestions what to learn next. I might be going on a fifth-grade field trip to Gettysburg, so I'm thinking of learning Lincoln's speech.

By the way, if you don't mind talking to yourself as you walk, I recommend this. It is quite fun to learn lines while wandering about. "To a Mouse" took me more than a week, I think.

embarrassing

2009-11-12T12:50:00.003-05:00

I'm not talking about the old news of Papa Phillips here.

I was just listening to this song (at random) and realized that, thanks to a Hal Leonard Jazz Pak, I still know that %$#!!#$! flute solo by heart.

It starts at 1:18

nerdy, I know

2009-11-07T09:47:00.003-05:00

This poem doesn't look like much on the page, but I challenge you to read it aloud and not get chills while speaking the last line.

Oh, it's by Robert Browning (jr., the star of the upcoming Sherlock Holmes movie - not!)

You can also take it to the next level and learn it by heart. It's short. You can impress people in the early morning hours. Give them chills, too. But, remember, saying it aloud is the trick.

[Pippa's Song]

The year's at the spring;

The day's at the morn,

Morning's at seven;

The hill-side's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in His heaven -

All's right with the world.

Of course the cynic in me (and, having read some of Browning's other poems, I think the cynic in him, too) points out that it won't and can't last.

And yet, that not-lasting-ness off the moment is what makes it so poignant. (Also, Greek story style, things are only right with the world when the gods butt out of human affairs.)

you ask, we deliver

2009-11-03T20:44:00.001-05:00

All Hallow's Eve with warm fuzzies:

yard sale with entertainment

2009-11-03T15:47:00.003-05:00

Today was a day off because the elections are held in the schools. In SF and Mpls, they were just in seemingly random homes and garages. In Chicago, we voted in the old people's residence across the street, but I have the feeling in retrospect that it was just another version of "random homes and garages." It smelled more official, though.

So I was home with the kids. Coco didn't want to leave or change out of his pjs until he had the idea to have a yard sale. So we had one. Not that I'm a big fan or that we were very successful, but it got him out of the house and got us to clean a little. Win/win.

And I got to play guitar outside to lure in the customers. Coco kept insisting I put out the case to earn some money for myself but I didn't want to distract from him. Also, it would have meant playing complete songs rather than playing songs I sort of know up to the point where I forget things or mess up and blame a passing squirrel or car for my fudging. Or, put another way, it would have meant playing two songs over and over again rather than playing an aggregate of 6.2883 songs.

Coco earned 6 bucks, mostly because he pulled a bait-and-switch. All toys for one dollar, except for some - was his motto.

H-H-Halloween

2009-11-02T10:18:00.002-05:00

In a sense, Julie and I got lucky and Madge and Coco didn't get jealous.

Because, man, in our Bert and Ernie costumes, we were celebrities.

"Look, it's Bert and Ernie!" "Hey, Bert!" "Ernieeee!" Over and over again.

Highlights include:

A group of Asians had their picture taken with us. Various kids had their pictures taken with us, too, but the Asian group was in their twenties.

Kids ran up and hugged us. One kid, while Coco and I were in line for a haunted house, just held my hand for a while.

And one kid, believing a bit too much, asked me, "Bert, what are you going as?"

We, of course, played it up and waved to anyone who recognized us.

Individually, we didn't get as much attention. When Julie was out on her own or when I was off doing something, we didn't get as many shouts. But the one-two combination of America's favorite same-sex couple was always a hit.

Warms the heart.

field trip

2009-10-29T21:16:00.003-04:00

The problem - one of the many problems - of Julie being out of town is that I don't really have someone to laugh about things with. Let's say what I mean: laugh about other people. At. At other people.

Anyone can read this, so I'll try to code this as abstractly as I can.

Certain people come on field trips and are no help whatsoever. Don't listen, wander off, space out, and then drag their kids off to do special little excursions. But enough about me... (badum! Why is it so hard to resist the easy joke? Again, because Julie isn't here. Really, she guides me in ways she doesn't even realize.)

No. It was someone else. But I'm guessing by the behavior on the field trip this person wouldn't really know I was writing about him or her because he or she isn't strong in the attention-paying department. His or her attention is several payments behind and about to be foreclosed on. (The metaphor does extend, after all, to attention deficit.)

Anyway. Grr. Julie, you know what I mean, right? Grrr.

It was a Madge field trip, so it was fifth graders and I wasn't so much a shepherd as a goatherd. And part-time monkey wrestler.

Report to London

2009-10-28T23:50:00.003-04:00

Today's report is not as elaborate.

It's been rainy. But Coco no longer wants to wear his boots because they're too heavy. Can't blame him. Turns out I didn't need to rush with the kazoos because the choir teacher was out today and his assistant took over.

Coco was irritable all afternoon while Madge took advantage of the iPod that Julie had forgotten to take along, so there was much awkward, non-blissful silence.

Trying to think of some haha moment that happened today but I can't really think of any right now. Madge enjoyed the New Yorker cover, as she always does when it is trying to be funny and Coco enjoyed his after-school Oreos.

I think I just realized one of the sources of his irritability. Oops.

Kazoo-istry

2009-10-27T18:43:00.002-04:00

I know, I know, a pun. But, c'mon, it's not bad as puns go which makes it forgivable. If not, write me a letter of complaint and I'll refund your money.

Anyway, I finally remembered to get a kazoo, which Madge needs for chorus. Yikes, right? Having two kids, I got two kazoos. (And you people thought I'd never learn.) Why not three, you might ask, knowing full well that for most intents and purposes (barring a few NC-17 ones) I'm still a child as well? Ha-HAA! I had the opportunity to impress the wee ones with some wax paper over a comb. Old-school. They really were impressed, too.

Now I need to buy more combs.

As to the pun, well. Unlike the laws of thermodynamics, I rarely let matters rest and looked up the word "casuistry." Sure enough, it's pronounced kaj-OO-eh-stree. Still not satisfied, I even looked up what it means. Now here's the thing (pay attention, you might learn something):

It involved applying *general* ethical principles to *particular* cases of conscience or conduct.

But - ah-HAA! (that's two times in one post) - the word "casuist" has its origin 1600-1610, the word "casuistic" 1650-60, and the word "casuistry" 1715-25.

Odd, huh, how the word that focuses on applying general concepts to particular cases originates with the individual who does so and only abstracts a general concept more than a hundred years later. Dumb ol' word.

Oh, it also refers to "oversubtle, fallacious, or disingenuous reasoning." I have no idea what that means and can't be bothered to look it up.

Library Background

2009-10-27T18:36:00.003-04:00

Yep, the kids have graduated from the laser background on the school pictures.

Julie's out of town, so the posts will be a bit more detailed. Good for everyone except my fingers.

On Monday, I successfully got a white button shirt and a striped clip-on tie for Coco, just as he wished. This morning, the shirt was a bit big, but his old one was way too small, so we rolled up the sleeves and clipped on the tie and were good to go. Or so I thought until he walked around for a bit and realized how uncomfortable it was to actually wear these clothes. So we dumped them and looked or something else and something else and something else and finally chose a red shirt.

This red shirt is meaningless to most of you, but Julie knows this is the exact red shirt we had to buy for the last set of pictures. It's red and has no logos or insignia, but because those are hard to find, it, too, is too big. Or rather was, as now the sleeves merely approach his elbows - rather than cover them - and we were good to go.

So there's still hope for the white shirt and tie.

And Madge (yesterday) merely tortured me by asking "which shirt?" and then not liking my response. I've learned enough to not change my response and stick to my admittedly low-caliber guns, but at least I wasn't accused of changing my mind just to please her.

Please put in your requests for copies of the pictures now.

For a a wallet-sized picture, send in, oh, I don't know, $59.95 for each child.

darn that iPod

2009-10-27T12:20:00.002-04:00

Julie's out of town and my stupid iPod launched me into a feeling-sorry-for-myself cycle just because it chose to play Patsy Cline.

Now I need to work through my maudlin "Daddy's Other Mood" playlist. Feel free to suggest songs. This one is on it.

Stupid iPod. Sniff.

Heintje!

2009-10-27T09:34:00.000-04:00

Wait.

Why have I never seen this movie?

I Love Rowan Atkinson

2009-10-26T14:24:00.002-04:00

Even if you say you don't - and, honestly, you may *say* but deep down you do; it's like *saying* you don't like the Beatles: the homo sapiens DNA does not permit this to be true or the organism will self-destruct - where was I? Oh. Even if you say you don't, you'll have to admit that this is strangely informative, or, as the people across the great spittoon might say: spot on.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9fsn6lQBV4

My big sister, the star

2009-10-21T10:28:00.002-04:00

My sister sent in a message that will be projected onto the Brandenburg Gate on Oct. 22, but she won't be able to see it live because she's out of town.

Her message is, "Congratulations, you are going to be a star for a night!"

A bit Andy Warhol-ish, but she's just being modest. She's always a star.

If anyone's around, please go, take a picture, upload it, and see what happens.

Here are the details:

Dear Participant,

thank you for submitting your personal three-part phrase to the Festival
of Lights.
*Congratulations, you are going to be a star for a night! *

On October 22, 2009 between 7 pm and midnight, we are going to project
your message onto the Brandenburg Gate and make it /your/ landmark. Your
"triads" and your name will light up the gate together with 60 other
phrases from all over the world.

Don't forget that you might have to wait a bit to see your message on
the Brandenburg Gate: the 60 phrases will repeat roughly every 30
minutes that night. If you wait long enough, you'll get to see your
message projected a number of times.
If you can't make it to the Brandenburg Gate in person, we invite you to
watch your message being projected by accessing the webcam *live on the
Internet *at http://www.sei.berlin.de/live-dabei/festival-of-lights/

All the best from the */be /Berlin* team.

Coco Day

2009-10-19T16:30:00.002-04:00

Coco had to stay home today because of overly digested stuff zipping out of his body wherever it could. Graphic enough?

On the way to picking up Madge (and a friend of Coco's and two friends of Madge's - I'm turning into the rat catcher of Brooklyn) Coco said, "My butt buns are sticky."

Excellent. But: what other buns does he think he has?

Bud Powell

2009-10-14T09:32:00.001-04:00

Jeeez.

Just watch those hands dance.

Madge Monday

2009-10-13T14:31:00.002-04:00

Madge's friend was over for pizza last night and the girls (including Julie) got to talking about books. They pointed out how hard it was to read Tuck Everlasting in class because it is hard to keep from crying at certain points and nobody really wants to cry in class in fifth grade over a book.

Julie asked Madge if she ever cried over a book and Madge said No, she didn't, but she almost did over this one story.

And then she started telling about (the classic really, the kind that made me weep as a kid) about an animal sacrificing its life to save the child friend/owner. And while she told about this book that didn't make her cry while she read it, she ended up crying while speaking. Aww.

But this, in turn, made her and her friend and Julie laugh, so poor Madge was a wreck: red-faced, laughing and crying at the same time.

And this was when I very confusedly entered the conversation.

take your time with this

2009-10-08T10:03:00.001-04:00

It's a learning experience.

And remember to "Shake it when you P."

(For all y'all who wants your funk uncut.)

ooh, almost forgot

2009-10-06T21:19:00.002-04:00

today's birthday poem.

The poet is Turkish, Ayten Mutlu, and the lines might have lost something in translation. - You know what? I take that back. They might have even gained something in translation, if only several billion potential readers.

Anyway.

The Hierarchy of Concepts

When the Abstract Concepts sit down to eat,

The Passions argue about veggies and meat,

While Intellect grumbles,

"Pipe down, sit on your a posterioris,

and tell each other meaningless stories.

I want to reach beyond all your vainglories

and hang out with the two a prioris."

But Intellect notes

Space drifting,

tapping his feet,

and nodding his head to an unheard beat,

And Time sitting proudly in a corner seat.

Yikes, that was hard. Feel free to guess the source line in the comments.

just like ...

2009-10-06T10:34:00.004-04:00

I know it's childish, but I also think I'm not the only one. Whenever this song comes up in a cafe or some other pretentious setting, I can't help changing the lyrics, for example:

She takes just like a woman, yes, she does
She makes love just like a woman, yes, she does
And she aches just like a woman

But she farts like a man.

I'm sure you have other things she does like a man.

Feel free to share in the comments.

lost verse

2009-10-05T14:04:00.002-04:00

Flann O'Brien's Birthday today. Odd coincidence because I recently picked up his Best of Myles and love it.

The poem I found online is already funny, so I'll only try to add a verse rather than cast it in a different light.

Well, Mexico was lots of fun

out here on the Yucatan.

But when Montezuma's wrath's begun,

A pint of plain is your only man.

Madge Monday

2009-10-05T13:34:00.002-04:00

This morning Madge was playing a computer game. When the levels changed she said, "Look it's you." The guy on the screen didn't resemble me at all. He was balding. I said, "Really?" and she answered, "Yeah, it says super dad."

Of course I raised her allowance right away.

On a different note (you'll get the pun later):

Messing around the internet and noticed that today is the 40th anniversary of Monty Python's Flying Circus. When we still lived in Minnesota, we had a membership to CostCo. This was when the complete 15-DVD set was issued and I bought it there, thinking, "A three-year-old can handle this. Well, maybe not any three-year-old, but MY three-year-old can handle this."

After explaining that, No, he's not a naked piano player, he's a naked organist, which is much funnier, and that, Yes, it is funny to see people and animals fall from great heights, we came to this sketch and I had to toss in the towel. Maybe we can watch the sketches now that she's ten.

different birthday confluence

2009-10-03T22:23:00.004-04:00

Roy Blount jr.'s birthday is today, too. He's a writing hero of mine, if you didn't know yet. Basically, he's too funny for words but he gives them a go anyway.

And it appears he gets to share his birthday with an older comedian - Buster Keaton. I share a birthday with Steve Martin. For some reason, I find this, uh, well, I find it.

In a book of Roy Blount's I am rereading he has a review of Steve Martin's Cruel Shoes. I really love the honesty and gumption of the review, especially this paragraph:

An item about a nationality called Turds approaches risible flatness, but why "Turdsmania" for the country's name? Turdsey, perhaps. Turdwana. There is something to be said for this sentence from "Poodles...Good Eating!": "The dog-eating experience began in Arkansas, August, 1959, when Earl Tauntree, looking for something to do said, 'Let's cook the dog.'" But "experience" is not quite the word, the town in Arkansas should be given, there ought to be a comma after do, and "Tauntree" is not a funny name.

Dang. Happy Birthday, Roy!

birthday poem

2009-10-03T22:11:00.004-04:00

Hugh McCrae is (was) an Australian writer I hadn't hear of until now. Sorry, Hugh. And Happy Birthday!

Following the Trail of Crumbs

Finding a recently emptied cookie jar

I didn't wander all too far

and discovered

Beth.

She was all of five months past three

and had a face covered with chocolate and glee.

But when I inquired

about what transpired

She looked on me with sadder eyes than Death,

And answered,

"Yeth,

I confeth."

pee-eth: gueth the source in the comments

another birthday poem

2009-10-02T21:36:00.005-04:00

This one, hoo boy. It doesn't seem there are any Oct. 3 poet birthdays, which seems odd. Ginsburg's Howl was deemed non-offensively legitimate on this day, but I'll save him for another day.

You know whose birthday it is, though? Ernest Evans. Oh, yeah, you say, him.

Leonardo Works On His Model's Features

Now, you are mighty fine,

We all agree.

Yes, your jaw is sublime,

but there's a flaw.

I need a look that says you're looking just at me.

Then let's just see what Papa Leo can do for you.

Now you turn to the left

when I say gee.

You turn to the right

when I saw haw.

Now come on, one little smile, just for me.

Boogety, boogety, boogety, boogety, shoo.

So there. Happy birthday, Ernie. (Or, as you guys might know him, Happy Birthday, Chubby Checker)

ps. know the song? leave a comment

Oh darn

2009-10-02T14:34:00.003-04:00

I just found an Untermeyer line I sort of like, but only because I think it's funny out of context since I'm ruining his enjambment. Or, rather, because his enjambment is crummy - oh, yeah, I said it - and I'm taking advantage of it. So, happy belated birthday, Louis.

The Wife Who Only Feigns Sleep While the Husband Fetches a Drink for the Offspring

Here in this moonlit room, I watch you slip

and crack your head on the cold hardwood floor.

I try not to stir, but chew on my lip

and wait to laugh until you're out the door.

ps. want the source? leave a comment

new tricks

2009-10-02T14:25:00.002-04:00

I was thinking of doing something new this month, inspired by a "contest" I participated in online.

Take a line from a poem and make a new poem out of it. Brief, don't worry. I won't stretch your limited patience.

I figured I'd do it with poets whose birthday it happens to be, but I was thwarted right away. Yesterday was the birthday of one Blanche Oelrichs, who wrote under the pseudonym Michael Strange, and one Louis Untermeyer. And none of the lines of theirs that I could find online spoke to me in the way I hoped.

So I tried again today, which happens to be the birthday of Wallace Stevens. Happy Birthday, Wally. Here goes:

On Observing Teens Needle the Portly Security Guard at the Library

Oh! How cruel, how cruel,

those teens who've got nothing to do after school.

But I do vaguely recall the day

when getting a rise out of strangers was considered play.

And now I wish I'd had a video recorder.

Oh! The blessed rage for order.

ps. If you want to now which of the lines isn't from me and/or where I got it, let me know in the comments. If I had prizes to give away, I'd make it a contest. But I don't, so I won't.

heh, heh

2009-10-02T10:29:00.001-04:00

Gotta love Simon Pegg.

And you gotta love this sketch. So simple, so obvious, and yet we didn't think of it, did we?

Have I shared this before?

2009-10-01T14:39:00.000-04:00

If so, it only proves how much I like it.

hm

2009-10-01T01:20:00.002-04:00

A happy confluence of root meanings seems to form "gravity." Well, maybe not happy happy.

But it seems that the Old English and Old High German word for "to dig" and the Latin word for "heavy" made it possible for us to say that "the grave is grave."

Or to say that astronauts find levity in zero gravity.

shirts or skins

2009-09-29T21:02:00.003-04:00

After dinner the kids and I went to the "fake grass" to throw a baseball around. There was a soccer game going on and Madge noticed how longingly I was staring in its direction, so she said, "Why don't you just ask if you can play?"

I said, "But what about you guys?"

"We don't mind, do we Coco?"

Coco didn't respond but finally agreed.

Problem was, they had teamed up dark shirts against light shirts and I was wearing a dark shirt, but the dark shirts were already outnumbering the light shirts.

So I went shirtless.

My general rule of thumb with shirts v. skins is to go with skins if you want to win, shirts if you want to have more fun. See, shirts tends to have all the girls and skins are people who like to show off their upper bodies, so their either buff or not smart or both.

But that was not the case here - except for the not smart bit - and after the game Madge said I ought to exercise my chest more because it was bouncing around a lot.

pffffffff [that's the sound of a deflated dad]

dang

2009-09-25T12:09:00.001-04:00

"People laugh at metal detectorists," is my favorite quote by Terry Herbert, who apparently now can thumb his nose at all of us laugherists.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/25/world/europe/25treasure.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper

who's the kidder?

2009-09-24T21:45:00.003-04:00

Madge has been around me too long, in the sense that it's hard for me to shock her anymore.

The first instance was back in San Francisco, when some aria that's a bit too high for my limited aging baritone - let's say Nessun Dorma - was playing in a restaurant but I decided "what the hell" and just pushed a little harder as I belted out "Vin-eh-CEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ro!" in my best Prosciutto Pavarotti imitation. Neither of the kids even looked up from their meals.

Then, yesterday, we were walking home from school and Madge was complaining about lower back pains, a stomach pain and a slight queasiness, as well as a headache and irritability. I think they all come from the flu we're sharing (as a family is prone to do), but I said,

"Maybe you're pregnant."

Hoping, of course, for a shocked, "Dad-deeeeee-uh!"

Instead, she nonchalantly said,

"Maybe."

AND LET ME F--IN' SUFFER OPEN-MOUTHED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SIDEWALK FOR A GOOD FOUR-MISSISSIPPI before adding,

"But I don't know how that would have happened."

Sheesh.

I finally see the irony

2009-09-23T10:19:00.002-04:00

It always bugs me when the kids, especially Madge, freak out about stuff that is super-unlikely to happen. Scorpions, black widows, tarantulas, thunder (not lightning, thunder) come to mind.

And I finally realized why it bugs me so much: they don't understand statistics.

While she's worrying, for example, about black widow spiders, she'll be chewing on her backpack's string which has been God-knows-where and not looking both ways before crossing the street because there's still plenty of time once the light turns red.

Meanwhile, how can I be sure there's not a great white shark in the sewers?

Checkers Speech

2009-09-23T09:56:00.001-04:00

Gotta look it up now.

Apparently it has to do with finance and ethics, obviously the GOP's strong suit, but, judging by the campaign button, this is when they got the "ironic gay vote."

http://www.stumbleupon.com/s/#5NtbA2/www.npr.org/blogs/politicaljunkie/2009/09/on_this_day_in_1952_richard_ni.html?ft=1&f=97248522/

tough times

2009-09-22T12:34:00.004-04:00

Poor Coco. Yesterday the girls stayed home, sick. Coco tried to talk his way into staying home, too, or at least into coming home early, but I'm a little more experienced as a parent and it's too early in the year for me to say "*&%! it, let's go kite flying instead."

It was tough going, though. He refused to hold my hand the whole way. One of the regular benefits of the stay-at-home world is that, in ten years now, not a single day has passed when I haven't held a smaller hand in mine. (It's only a downside on really hot, sweaty days.)

But after school he held my hand later and apologized for the morning and told me that he almost cried at school because he missed me. He didn't, though, don't get the wrong idea. Apparently, he rubbed his eyes and sniffed and it went away.

Then, this morning, after we had our goodbye smoochie and I turned around, I was hug-tackled around my thighs and there he was again, with his eyes a little redder and bulgier than usual. I bucked up and gave him another hug and off he went. Brave dude.

the shirt

2009-09-17T23:49:00.002-04:00

With the change of seasons comes a change in clothing. I feel like I ought to get a flannel shirt soon, but can't decide on one. I know, this is a problem and it really concerns you.

I did notice, though, that my closet - or rather, the closet I share with the kids because real estate is so precious in Bklyn - holds quite a few button-down shirts. And I also noticed that, the more expensive a shirt was, the less likely I am to wear it. So today I wore a shirt that is currently at about $39.97 1/2 per wear. Gotta get that rate down.

I have T-shirts that weigh in at less than a penny per wear.

Putting on Pants

2009-09-17T10:25:00.002-04:00

When people say that someone is just like you and puts on pants one leg at a time, I wonder.

Do they know how perilous an endeavor it is when I put on pants? How I really stake my all on whether or not my foot will proceed through the hole without a snag?

I'm just saying. The last time I was at the pool and changed into my regular clothes I had one of those moments. The floor was wet, obviously, so I was trying to be careful about not letting the pants touch the ground. On the other foot (seems more appropriate than "hand" here) I still had to commit fully to getting the ungrounded limb through the opening. And when I reached that point of no return, there was that moment of weakness and doubt when I wasn't sure I'd be reenacting oh-so-many slapstick scenes, especially because it took quite a few hops to regain my balance. Luckily I was able to run into a locker rather than a person, though the person would probably have been softer. Still better than the floor, though.

freakin' awesome

2009-09-17T01:10:00.002-04:00

stick with it, it gets really good

(if you're really impatient, skip to the 2 minute mark)

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

the kids

2009-09-16T22:39:00.003-04:00

What's up with the kids, you may wonder.

Well, they're in school now, getting acclamated to the hard life. Madge is a pro, it seems, and is taking it in stride even though she's got a cold and is a little extra tired. But she likes her teacher a lot and has described her as McGonagall from Harry Potter. She's still waiting for her Transfigurations lesson. Little does she know that Transfiguration in the real world is called Puberty.

Coco is a First-grader now. Hoo-boy. He walks in on his own, very proudly. And when he comes out I wait by the fence and he comes to me. This is hard. For me. Because he's so darn cute and comes running at me but gets upset if I hold out my arms or run to him, too.

Madge often comes speeding towards me as well but catches herself as she approaches, just in time to remember to be a bit surly as I try to hug her. Sometimes I can squeeze a little kiss under the radar, but I pay the price later. Oh, well; it's worth the price.

Coco's biggest difficulty - or rather my biggest difficulty - is that people talk to me because that's part of social convention. But it tends to interrupt his stream of thought.

As a matter of fact, if you want to update A la Recherche du Temps Perdu, I think all you have to do is tell a 6-year-old boy that it's time to go to school and have him launch into ramblings that go from bending the four elements to "the reason Germany is so big is because it's so far away, let's go to Paris for my birthday." Take that Proust; and Coco only has six years of memories to fall back on.

Whoooeeee!

2009-09-15T22:37:00.002-04:00

So it's more than 9 minutes, deal with it. Think of how the bass player feels.

Pour Some Water On Me!

Nifty

2009-09-14T14:41:00.003-04:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/15/business/15bank.html?_r=1&hp

USDJ Rakoff (I think he's a district judge, not a disk jockey, but who knows, maybe he's both) ruled against the penalties for BofA in the Merrill Lynch bonuses thingie.

See, they were going to pay out $5.8 billion of shareholders' money to themselves as a bonus, but meanies decided it was unjustified and wrong.

So they agreed to pay $33 million of shareholders' money as a fine, but now a judge, obviously also a meany, decided it is unjustified and wrong.

Apparently he cited Wilde's line of a cynic being someone "who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing." Pretty cool.

Except, of course, that an Elightened Being knows the price of Everything and the value of Nothing.

I don't even know what to say

2009-09-14T09:46:00.001-04:00

How did...?
What the...?
Who could...?
Hunh...?
And yet: Oh, soooo perfect!

swimming

2009-09-11T22:32:00.003-04:00

The kids had their first swimming class of the fall. They've had them sporadically in different places we've lived, but never consistently and they've not really learned strokes in a structured way.
Which is a roundabout way of introducing my fatherly pride in Madge. We had signed them up in the basic pollywog 1 class. Doing one of the exercises, the teacher asked Madge if she could do it without the noodle and she said yes and did and was moved to pollywog 2 (in a different lane). While doing the pollywog 2 exercises, specifically doing the freestyle with proper breathing (which she has never done for me, I might add), the teacher of that group said said, "Stay here after class."
After class they ran her through some more paces. These were: "Can you do the backwards frog?" "I don't know, what is it?" Teacher shows, Madge does. "Do you know breaststroke?" "I don't know, what is it?" Teacher shows, Madge does.
So now she's in guppy.
Coco should probably be in pollywog 2, but was super proud since he was able to show the rest of the class how he can float on his back.
Okay. I'm done bragging.
Getting them there after school and getting them to bed tonight was a pain in the ---

back to school

2009-09-09T23:31:00.003-04:00

I'm a bit slow on the uptake.

This afternoon Coco told me that if I'm sad and lonely and miss the kids it's okay.

It's around midnight now and I just realized (thanks to the andante movement of Mozart's 18th piano concerto) that he missed me today.

(Listen to it and you'll feel it, too):

If you've listened this far, you might have noticed that it's not quite done. Here you go:

"like" on facebook

2009-09-03T11:22:00.003-04:00

Facebook allows you to comment on posts, as you know. And, for the extra-lazy who still want to be heard, you can just click "like" to show your approval.

Oddly enough, though, if you follow something like an NPR newsfeed, you get something along the lines of "Wildfires Kill Thousands" with a link to the story.

What exactly are you saying when you click "like"?

reruns can be good

2009-09-03T09:42:00.001-04:00

In case you missed Flo Luehnsdorf on your TV the first time around, you can catch him again! And if you've seen it already, I'm sure you'll tune in again, because, let's face it, who doesn't want a snootful of Flo?

First rerun of "Feuerschiff"!
Donnerstag, September 10th, 9:45 p.m. in NDR

more on movies

2009-09-01T13:29:00.002-04:00

An anonymous contributor has asked that I point out that I squealed like a little girl during District 9.

I squealed like a little girl during District 9.

And it was very weird to be in a full theater (not an empty matinee) with only adults. At least adults in age; some of us were, as mentioned, squealing like little girls.

Madge Monday

2009-09-01T09:32:00.003-04:00

We went to the Prospect Park zoo yesterday. It was a milestone of sorts because it was our first time going there without packing anything. All we did was go. No picnic lunches, no extra snacks, no special treats. Just: out the door, up the slope and whee.

Of course the trip home was filled with a lot of "I'm tired of walking" - alternating with bursts of running through the grass.

The trip was fun. Madge, though, has been weepy lately for, I'm guessing, hormonal reasons. ("Why are you crying?" "I don't kno-ho-ho-hooow, sniff.") So, the more tired she got, the more breaks we had to take to calm her down. In a way it's nice because it's not something I did to upset her - I seem to upset her a lot - and I look like a good guy for trying to cheer her up. We'll see how this turns out.

I take requests

2009-09-01T09:30:00.001-04:00

I have been asked by an anonymous contributor to blog about how great the movie "District 9" is and what a genius Julie is for suggesting we go see it.

The movie "District 9" is great.

Julie is a genius for suggesting we go see it.

clarification on heads and tails

2009-08-31T10:05:00.003-04:00

A recent twitter post of mine was a little vague, I think. I guess 140 characters can't explain too much.

It involves the guy at the video store and his daughter. Both were little. I'm saying this because I think his size influenced the Napoleonic bullying of his offspring. Anyway, she was about five and had picked some Lion King sequel and he groaned, "Not again!" Then he followed it with, "You haven't seen this Harry Potter movie yet. Let's get this."

Now, I'm not really into censoring but this kid was too young to really get much of the movie, so it was clearly for him. When she didn't bite, he topped it off with,

"I'll tell you what. We'll flip a coin. Heads: I win; tails: you lose."

Seriously. Even Madge later said, "I couldn't believe that. That was really mean."

Way to make your offspring a sucker. He even clarified it to her to make sure she knew the difference between heads and tails and then quickly glossed over the fact that she'd lose either way.

Let me rephrase that. She wouldn't get to choose the movie she wanted. But I think he loses either way.

Coco Tuesday

2009-08-26T21:15:00.002-04:00

All right, another.

Coco was chewing on his shirt collar over the weekend and somehow bit on the button and has been complaining about his teeth ever since. This is not a good introduction to a story in which I am one of the main actors. Sure, on TV or in a book this could be amusing, but grrr.

We went to the dentist today because it hasn't gotten any better. It seems to "only" be the molars coming in. "Only" in the sense that it's probably not an abscess.

I sure hope not.

The news is helping Coco out, though. I think he thought the button chewing caused it and therefore he was to blame for his own misery. Who wants that, I ask?

Speaking of which - yes, you need to fill in the gaps in my reasoning - there was a somewhat interesting review in the New Yorker by James Wood about the new anti-atheism. Thoughts, anyone?

Madge Monday

2009-08-26T21:12:00.002-04:00

And again I'm behind.

Monday was a double-playdate. I took four kids to the pool. Yippee.

It wound up fine, with only a few minor scrapes and scratches and whinings.

It was Madge's best friend and her little sister, who is half a year older than Coco. Madge finds this little sister annoying. I finally realized on Monday that it's not only because the little sister is pesky but because she has a told-you-so air about her that is very much like Madge's.

When it flared up and I pointed it out to Madge, well, let's just say it took a while to deal with the tears.

Sinatra

2009-08-25T13:55:00.002-04:00

Tell you what. Do yourself a favor and get "Where is the One?" onto your iPod of whatever portable means of listening to music you have.

But, as tempting as it may be to crank it up, especially if you're out and about after dusk, don't - and I repeat: don't - make eye contact with anyone while the song is zipping up and down your spine.

You'll just make a fool of yourself.