JofScottCubed

Vienna, Austria

2011-12-07T14:52:00.000-06:00

Vienna Austria.

I emailed this photo to Kris while I was sitting there and her response was one that really impacted me. "That looks like it could have been taken in Colorado"

Totally true, but when I was actually there, it sure as hell didn't feel like Colorado. The park was only partially groomed, the way we do them in the US. Most of it was left to grow wild (with winding footpaths throughout) and it was totally cool. As I sat there that day the temperature was dropping rapidly. You'll notice I am squarely in the sunshine, that was very on purpose. :)

I sat and read a bit from my book and watched this amazing mist rise up from the ground as the sun slowly sank. It was every bit exactly like a thousand scenes you may have read about in Dracula, Frankenstein and Werewolf stories. I had always thought that mists creeping up out of the ground and moving across the land was total bullshit, but I'm here to tell you it happens in Austria.

This is just another shot of the park, looking across the grass. I could see the aforementioned mist when I was there but I don't think I can make it out in the picture.

Looking up the Path.

Wild park.

I'll post more later,
Peace all,
J

Harvestival Fun

2011-10-03T10:02:00.000-05:00

FUN!

K and I took the boys up to Harvestival 2011 in gorgeous Wellington Colorado on Sunday. The weather was typical Colorado. That is to say, it was hot for a bit, it rained and got chilly for a bit and finally it worked it's way to just plain old 'warm and breezy'.

The boys had a ball. They:

Ate shaved ice.
Ate pulled pork and provolone.
Ate cotton candy
(seeing a pattern here?)
Chased some chickens
Mulled over a couple of mules.
Gandered at some geese.
Goggled at a couple goats.
Spotted some sheep.
(this is getting ridiculous, sorry)
...and dear sweet little Hunter had an Alpaca spit hay at him. Good judge of character that Alpaca.

The view-o-the front range from Wellington and surroundings is absolutely spectacular. So much so that Kris actually made the offhand comment that "Maybe we should retire up here, once the boys are off to college."

I wouldn't mind that one bit. Like I said, spectacular.
We'll see I suppose.

Couple more pics:

Hunter hunting a grasshopper with gorgeous crimson wings.

K looking beautiful

peace and light all,
Jer

This Morning

2011-09-19T17:00:00.000-05:00

This will be short.

This morning I was busying myself in the bathroom (shaving, fixin' my hair, teeth-a-brushing, you know, the usual stuff when I heard giggling coming from the bed.

I popped my head out and watched while Kris and Hunter engaged in some sort of cuddle-kis-kickboxing. They were both laughing and having a great time and it was the sort of thing I love to see. My wife and son (s) doing what they do. Loving each other, nothing unusual in that, just wonderful.

That's when my youngest offspring did the hilarious. He rolled over in a blur of pajamas and cranked out a small but unmistakable fart...inches from his mothers face.
Kris was laughing, I was laughing but Hunter, cute little 3 year old Hunter, was practically apoplectic from hysteria. He KNEW that was the funniest thing he would do all day. He KNEW it was totally wrong to toot in his mothers face and he did it anyway.

Honestly though, he funniest part for me was not that my son famped (there ya go TY) in my wife's face (although that was pretty funny) it was that he did it and the nearly peed himself laughing about it.

love and peace all,
Jer

not so Crazy dreams

2011-09-12T14:49:00.002-05:00

Assuming that anyone still reads this little testament to my own perceived importance, sorry it's been so long, will try to do better, etcetera, etcetera.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way.

Anyone who has read this blog, or who knows me well know s that I almost always have what I can only describe as whacked-out and thoroughly bizarre dreams with almost perfect regularity. I occasionally regale my wife with my somnambulent adventures and every once in a while she pays enough attention to comment on "How weird" my dreams are. To be fair, who really likes to hear about other peoples dreams, unless one is being paid that is, so I don't really blame her. In any event, most people in discussions with me often cite that they "never remember their dreams."

This statement has always puzzled me.

I have very often thought to myself, "how is it possible that you DON'T remember your 'fight with a rotting corpse', or 'the feel of a ghost scratching through the floor and bed beneath you from his unhallowed murder grave under the apartment', or 'the hideous undead babies with round mouths filled with fangs that were devouring you?' Please Note: I do also dream of flying, adventuring as a knight in shining armor and on at least one occasion, being a butterfly in the Summerlands, but I digress.

Now I understand. After this past weekend marathon of 'the most boring dreams of all time', I finally understand.

All weekend long I dreamt of tax ledgers or of reviewing reports at work that were completely incomprehensible. There were dull (-er than usual) staff meetings with people I didn't recognize and the inevitable one on one meetings with all of my managers.

It was horrible.

On Saturday night alone I woke myself up 3 times to escape the drudgery. The first time I went, had a glass of water and hoped THAT dream was over. Then found myself in it again. So (thankfully) I woke up again, went and had a glass of milk (see the escalation) and a fig newton. I drifted off to sleep thinking of zombies and trying to hear satanic breathing in the closet.

All to no avail, I was back in the nightmare of work related dreams.

I awoke a third time and seriously considered eating raw chili peppers and watching The Exorcist.

Directors cut.

Yeah, that one.

After drifting off again, I can only say, as so many have said to me, 'I have no recollection of what I dreamt.' Luckily.

Never again will I awake in a sweat, chest heaving from shock, having just seen a monstrous face bobbing to the surface of my toilet with anything but a tear of thanks and a heartfelt appreciation.

love and peace all,
Jer

As I sit here on 'Hold' waiting...

2011-05-04T15:15:00.000-05:00

For AT&T to get a hold of my lovely wife and release my cell phone number to my current Employer's tender mercies I thought " perhaps I could do quick blog entry".

I know it's been a damn long time and I refuse to let this blog become one long series of apologies for not posting so I'll just jump right in.

This past weekend I FINALLY got started on gardening in Colorado.

Oh how I have missed it. Oh how I have missed it Oh how I have missed it. it was, in essence, a quintessentially Colorado gardening day as well. When I first got out there to set up my pots and tepees and get my scarlet runners and purple something-or-other planted in their pots (we're renting so I'm not interested in improving the soil) it was a gorgeous warm, sunny day. By the time I had dirt in the pots and beans in the dirt it had clouded over.

By the time I had two tepees constructed (for the pole beans and cucumbers to climb) it was darkening and th temp had dropped at least 15 degrees.
By the time the boys go home from school and 'helped' me finish the stringing and third tepee it was very windy, dark and cold.
By the time the sun went down, it had sleeted some and I have been bringing in the potted sprout lings every night since.

I LOVE Colorado gardening.

Just keepin' on keepin' on

2011-02-26T15:17:00.003-06:00

This is a picture of Hunter and I at Pete's Kitchen. William took the shot. Thanks Pal!

I just put the boys down for a little quiet time and I have a minute of peace and quiet. I have no specific reason for this post. I just wanted to drop a little update out here and say I'm doing all right.

My old friend William came out to visit last weekend. We had a great time while he was here. It was very cool to have him out and, as usual, he managed to get me out of my comfort zone and off re-discovering myself.

Specifically, it had been almost ten years since the last time I was on a snowboard. Actually, that's not accurate. I had strapped myself into the bindings several times over the years. I had not been poised at the top of a run with my feet in those bindings for almost ten years.

That was the easy part though.

Getting off the damn lift was the challenge. Jeez-Louise I had forgotten how much that little commitment to gravity and (the lack of) friction sucked.

By the third run I had managed to not wipe out with spectacular abandon and, of course, that was the time William grabbed at me and pulled me down with him.

Wilder just came out of his room to explain to me that since he wasn't actually sleeping he didn't have to wait for his music to end in order to take it upon himself to terminate his quiet-nap time.
/sigh.

Anyway, the snowboarding was a ball. My gut remembered how to ride even if my legs (and back, and ass, and arms and shoulders, and ass...did I mention ass) protested with great enthusiasm. It was a ton of fun and I can't wait to get back up there again.

...and yes, to address the 400 pound gorilla in the room...I'm doing just fine.
thanks for all the well wishes, prayers and general support. I love you all.

Jer

2011-01-18T14:52:00.001-06:00

headin' home.

Sorry about the multiple posts...just feeling a bit lazy.

2011-01-18T14:51:00.000-06:00

Betty cut jeff exactly 0% slack on the walk.

2011-01-18T14:50:00.000-06:00

I love this one of my Darlin'.

2011-01-18T14:49:00.000-06:00

...all along the ridge line.

2011-01-18T14:47:00.000-06:00

Jeff and I heading out with both families for a hike through the 'green'space. (it's actually kinda yellow right now)

I love this picture

2011-01-18T14:45:00.000-06:00

I was uploading a ton of pics from the Weadock incursion and I came across this one. If ever there was a picture that more perfectly expressed how my son feels about his Friend Micah, this is it.

love love love this.

Dream

2011-01-13T15:02:00.000-06:00

I had a really disturbing dream the night before last and I wanted to share it.

I don't remember how the dream started out but at one point I was over at someone I knew's home. I'm not sure what house it was and it was a bit of an amalgam of several houses. It was partly the house Kris and I lived in in Dallas on Lochwood and partly (as is so often the case with my dreams) my paternal grandmothers (Nannie's) home.
Anyway, the boys were playing in the back yard and at some point I remember looking out the sliding back door and saw that they were playing with two other children. I opened the door and went outside to meet the new kids and as I approached I realized that there was something very...different about them.

They were both wearing a sort of Casper the Friendly Ghost mask. It wasn't quite Casper though. As in, it didn't look friendly. There was no smile and the expression of the mask was just blank and white. Also, the two new children were totally silent. I looked into the eye holes on the mask and saw that there was nothing behind them. Not that there was a blank expression in their eyes, there were no eyes, no eye sockets, no skull. Nothing. From the side or behind I could see wavy brown hair on the boy and curly blond hair on the girl but in the eyes from the front, empty.

I realized in the dream that they were ghosts but I wasn't getting a 'feel' of dread from them, just sadness. I figured, in dream logic, that if they wanted to play with the boys that would be fine. I remember thinking it might be a good experience for them. You know, socializing with the dead.

I'm not sure what I was thinking.

I remember then that my friend Vern showed up to the party and she and I were chatting about the office where I used to work and where she still works. I was keeping the boys and the ghost children in my peripheral vision for the most part but at some point I lost track of them for a minute. last I saw they were playing 'tag' or 'chase me' and Wilder and Hunter were laughing and 'screaming.' It was at this point that I noticed that it had gotten very quiet.

I looked around and saw that there was a pool of very clear water abutting the back of the house and south of the porch and siding glass door. I guess part of the house must have been on stilts. The whole effect was actually pretty cool as this homeowner in the dreamlands would have essentially a walk out pool and could, if they wanted to swim underneath their house.

I stepped closer to the water and saw a sight that utterly and completely horrified me. To remember it now still raises the hairs on my arms.

Wilder, Hunter and the two ghost children were all lying on the bottom of the 'pool'. I guess it was really more of a spring or swimming hole. It was not paved. The two dead children were looking directly at me. Challenge in their eyes and also, I think, a bit of despair and sorrow. There may also have been the merest hint of apology for what they had done. Wilder and Hunter were looking at the ghost children with huge smiles on their faces.

Not breathing.

Their hair was waving in the slight current. Their legs were tangled in a garden hose.

This is that part of a dream where everything seems to slow down. You can't move your legs fast enough. You can't cram enough air into your chest. You feel like your moving through honey. The world narrows down to a dim, long tunnel.

I reached down to grab the hose and began pulling it as hard and as fast as I could but the opposite effect was occurring. The hose was pulling me into the bitter freezing cold water.

I felt a howling scream bubbling up out of my chest and ...

I woke up.

to all of you who have a pool, I'm sorry for that...

peace and light all,
Jer

Hunter in the Morning

2011-01-10T13:29:00.002-06:00

Bless his heart little Hunter ~~is a~~ can be a real booger in the morning if he needs to be awakened. So long (usually) as he awakes on his own he is OK. He'll groggily wander out of his room with GP (Giant Puppy) and the creatively moniker-ed 'Pillow Pet' under his arms and demand that I pick this whole mess up and tote it all downstairs to the liv-a-ning room.

So the net of this equation is that we rarely wake the cute lil' little troll in the morning. I usually just open his door and or his blinds and dash out before he detects me.

This morning tho, we were a bit short on time and so I did go in, kneel down and gently rub his back and say his name.

Naturally and quite predictably, he rolled his drooling little face away from me, faced the wall and let out a groan of disgust and displeasure at the intrusion of the world. At that moment came one of those lucky little serendipitous moments in a parents life. Total luck. As I was steeling myself for his tiny rage and preparing to be told to "go AWAY Papa. I love MAMA!" I murmured into his curls, " Do you want some oatmeal?"

pow!

His little head came up, his baby blues focused on me and he said in a (gasp) happy voice and with a smile, " Oatmeal? Where is the Oatmeal" as he was saying this he was already climbing out of bed and headed for the door.

I said, " its downstairs on the table, punkin'." I heard him mumbling to himself as he headed down the stairs, " I just close my eyes for a minute. Where is oatmeal?"

No GP, No Pillow Pet, No Mouse, No Jo-Jo no nuthin'. :)

Ah, the power of Oatmeal.

love all,

Jer

Last Friday

2011-01-10T13:15:00.003-06:00

As is often the case with this blog. This picture has nothing to do with this post. It's just a beautiful example of Jack Frosts handiwork on the Exploder window the other morning when I went out to clean off our cars before leaving for work.

I wanted to post this 'incident' before I forgot. last Friday as K and I were getting the boys ready for school, Wilder proclaimed that he didn't want to go to school. That's pretty odd for him as Wilder LOVES his school (and his friend Gabby). I asked him why he didn't want to go and he replied that he wanted a 'Momma day'.

Momma days are what Hunter has every Wednesday. Now Hunter doesn't get some special dispensation of maternal love, it's just that the class we enrolled him in only had 2-a-weeks available when we set him up there.

Kris and Hunter do often do something fun. Sometimes they go to the coffee shop or go for ice cream. One time they went to a dive bad down on Broadway and sharked some hobos out of a C-note, got piss-drunk and arrested for brawling...but thats a different story. (and never actually occurred, as far as I know.)

Anyway, I explained to Wilder why Hunter has Momma days and while he wasn't happy with the explanation he did roll with it. Now that I think of it, this story doesn't really have a happy ending, Wilder went to school and didn't get his Momma day.

Hmmmm. Well if he wants it, maybe I'll give him a Papa day soon! It's no where near as awesome and won't, in all likelihood, be anywhere near as much fun, but I bet he won't mind.

Papa day, I like the sound of that.

Peace and light all

Jer

well!

2010-12-17T14:38:00.003-06:00

Yerp! That was the problem. I was just hungry.

Feeling much better now

I meant to post this on the day after my birthday. I loved walking in the door to this.

As a matter of fact as I think it's still up.

Love all,

- J

2010-12-17T11:58:00.004-06:00

Hunter hugging his new best friend JoJo. (thank you grandpa Jon and Grandma Sharon)

Wilder sleeping soundly and in all likelihood dreaming of Dragons. ;)

It's December.

It snowed last night.

It's cold.

The boys are growing like weeds and looking forward to presents under the tree.

For some reason I find myself a bit sad this season. Just not looking forward to it all the way I always have in the past. Perhaps its because for the first time in almost 15 years I will be working the week after Christmas. Maybe its that I have been away from my Texas-friends just long enough that I find I am really missing them. Maybe I miss my old job. I'm not sure what it is for certain.

It could be that I'm just hungry.

I think I'll go eat lunch.

peace and light all,

Jer

Weighing in on the grope vs radioactivity dilemma

2010-11-23T17:06:00.003-06:00

Benjamin Franklin said it best, “They that can give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

I keep hearing on the news about how I am supposed to be all in a dither about the newest TSA security regulations for passengers on airplanes. The problem is, I'm really not all that upset.

Why? Because I don't fly much.

Lets look at this logically. I mean, the TSA has caught tones and tons of people sneaking bazookas, bombs, knives and guns onto planes since 9/11 right?

Right?

No, case in point they haven't.

Not once.

Never.

Zip.

Nada.

What they have done is catch average everyday travelers with maliciously sneaking ultra-dangerous shit like mouthwash, toothpaste, aerosol cans, wine bottles (me) and baby formula on planes. Ruthless criminals who do that sort of thing should be punished severely by having their offending personal belongings confiscated.

Seems equitable. Right?

So this new scanning technology. It's brand new. Only been around a year or two. Should be safe right? Undoubtedly it been thoroughly tested over time to see what the long term effects are. Right?

Oh, I guess not, its new technology. Oh well, X-Rays are perfectly safe right?

Anyway, I mean, all it does is to X-Rays-zap off all of our clothes. then somewhere, someone looks at our naked pictures and tries to tell whether or not we have a bomb stuck up our butt. Right?

No. It can not detect the newest weapon in the suicide bomber arsenal. An internal bomb.

All it can do is see under your clothes. They'll probably detect TONS of dangerous contraband like colostomy bags, thongs and jewelry. Maybe some pens and pencils too. Oh, and whether I'm wearing boxers or briefs.

So then, finally, my alternative to cancer, or 'The NeverEnding TSA Peep Show' for frequent flyers is to have someone play with my junk for a minute or so. Or to put in another way, this is a serious attempt to verify if that thing in there is a penis or a 12 inch (or so...) cylindrical wad of C4 rigged to a battery in my ass.

Right on. Like I said, I don't fly much.

October

2010-11-02T15:54:00.002-05:00

Whew!

What.

Month.

All crammed into my favorite time of the year is this one week in which we have Kris and I's wedding anniversary Wilder's Birthday (5th this year) and Halloween. Three of my favorite events. Two of which fundamentally redefined the way I look at life and myself and they happened on the same day and my favorite holiday.

Kris and I went to see the theatrical production of Dracula, (which was great, but a bit long) had dinner and beers at the Wynkoop (the green lip mussels were frak-tastic) and then meandered up to the Brown Palace for a nights 'sleep'. I took two showers. I loved that shower. yep. loved it.

Dad blew into town this past weekend and while we didn't really paint the town red, we did have a great visit. I took the day off on Friday and we hung out at the house, had some beers and grilled out.

Saturday we drove up to the mountains and checked out a few houses that Kris and I thought looked like potential future Casa del Scotts. (I imagine that is incorrect, oh well.) One was a very cool log cabin on 5 acres. The problem was that most of the acreage was vertical and made of rock.

Sunday was low-key, (not that we could have gotten much lower-keyer) Dad and I fixed the tail lights in the Rover, added some injection cleaner, fixed the sliding glass door in the rental home, tried to fix our toaster...and so on. It was a lot of fun, actually.

Ah well, another kinda bring post that really never goes anywhere...but there you have it.

peace and light all,

Jer

my life.

Wilder's Penmanship

2010-10-20T10:30:00.006-05:00

I just love this.

When I drop Wilder off at school (he attends Front Range Community College preschool) The first thing he is supposed to do is wash his hands. However, he always insists on signing in first and sometimes... I let him. I let him, because I like to watch him write his name.

The view from my work...yeah its not spectacular in this picture but of the grin it puts on my face and the light I feel in my heart every day when I walk out side to get in the 'exploder' and drive home.

Yeah, that's snow on the mountains.

not much for today, just trying to get back in the habit.

love and light all,

Jer

I have been remiss

2010-10-06T10:25:00.003-05:00

Well dang. So very sorry that I have failed to post here. I am going to rededicate myself to posting at least once a week, if not more.

So Colorado.

I still haven't gotten used to being back. Every day when I walk out of my office and head to the car I STILL get a huge grin on my face as I look past the roof of the car to the Front Range.
Its just so good to be back.
Kris and I tooled up to Kittridge yesterday afternoon to take a gander at 5 acres and a house. It wasn't really what we're looking for but it was nice to get started on the road to setting up our own little Farm/Homestead/Freehold/Steadding...whatever you want to call it.
Wilder and Hunter are adjusting well to Colorado. I drop Wilder off at his school on Wednesday mornings and it is nice because we get a little alone-together time just he and I. He rattled off the names of his friends and teacher from Texas, pronounced that he missed them and then went on to exclaim how amazed he was that he still remembered their names.
:)
Well that's about it for today. I really didn't have anything to say, I just wanted to say something and drop a couple of recent pics to follow. Random of course.

Love and peace all,
Jer

Well this pretty much says it all

2010-07-06T16:23:00.002-05:00

One of those a picture is worth a thousand words moments.

Yeah, that's oil from the current gulf coast oil disaster.

That thing in the immediate forground? Thats a crab.

Help us all.

Jer

Hiking Golden Canyon

2010-06-20T13:11:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I took a walk in the mountains. It was absolutely wonderful and reminded me of why I moved here originally.

can.

not.

wait.

till Kris and the boys are here.

love all,

Jer

my Unsolicited advice to Wilder and Hunter

2010-06-16T17:54:00.002-05:00

I have been writing this list for a couple of years now and it finally feels long enough to put up. I realize, that at the ripe old age of 43 I still have a lot of living and learning to do myself. I still thought though, it couldn't hurt to go ahead and drop this out here.

You know, for fun.

1. Don't pick on people who are weaker or dumber than you. It is without honor, it's mean and more than you realize it clearly illuminates a weakness in yourself.

2. Don't antagonize those who are stronger or smarter. It's stupid and it can be painful.

3. Don't hate what you don't understand. Learn from and about it and grow your mind.

4. Respect all women. Especially, though, your mother.

5. Take every opportunity to be kind. It is free and makes the world a little less horrible.

6. If someone is attracted to you and has the balls to ask you out on a date, regardless of gender, have the decency to thank them, tell them you are flattered and accept or decline based upon your sexual preference.

7. Accept your father.

8. Learn and follow traffic laws. They make the world simpler and safer for everyone.

9. Don't smoke.

10. Learn to play a decent game of poker, pool and darts. You'll make your Mama proud.

11. Play every sport you can think of. It doesn't mater if you are any good, just play.

12. Travel. Get the hell away from where you were born. Nothing broadens your mind like seeing how other people do the simplest things. Call home.

13. Go to sea. For a while.

14. Don't volunteer to join the military. I have spoken to too many ex marines, ex army and ex non cripples who say that "unless you want to risk getting your ass blown off to secure other people's economic or political interests, its not worth the trade off."

15. Don't speak badly of your wife or girlfriend. Back her up. It's you and her against the world, even if she's wrong. She should know that you have her back. When she needs your help, give it. She should know that your always on her side.

16. Read. Never stop learning, it is the key to happiness.

17. Be curious. Look around you once in a while and ask "How, when, what and why". (like you did ALL the time when you were little). If you don't know the answer, go find out.
18. Always try to remember, and I know it can be hard, most people are doing the best they can, most of the time.

19. Go Outside.

20. Learn to cook. Its always been one of my greatest pleasures, and if you like to eat it only makes sense.

21. Be generous with what you have. Its all temporary anyway. None of us gets to take a single thing with us when this life is over except the love in our heart, memories of joy and pain and the knowledge that we live on in the hearts of our loved ones.

love all,

Jer

Ware' what ya ask for

2010-06-02T17:27:00.003-05:00

So it has been a while since my last post and, as the pictures for the last two posts would seem to indicate, my prayer cast forth would seem to have been answered.

With a vengeance.

Only problem is, I was a bit vague in my request and the 'winds of change' not only blew my silly ass out of Dallas and all the way to Denver but they also blew me away from Kris, Wilder and Hunter.

doh.

The house is on the market. The next step is to get it sold and get all of us here and settled and then we can start looking for the Steading.

So here I go again... (a bit more specific this time, yes sir.)

" winds of change come :

Blow my beloved and my two sons to me here on a fair breeze of good fortune.

Waft us into a wonderful rental of minimal cost and maximum comfort.

Breeze us into a gorgeous piece of land in the near future and scatter to us the means to purchase it.

Zephyr us into joy, health and love forever.

please?

Love and light all,

Jer

Winds of Change, come blow me ... away

2010-04-22T13:33:00.004-05:00

Happy earth day!

I really have nothing much to add to this wish. It's a gloomy, grey day here in Dallas Texas.

I can't see no mountains.
I can't see no forests or fields.
The river she looks cold and sad.

I'm all wrapped up in some clouds in a downtown, concrete, man-made urban-thing that just doesn't jive with my spirit.
I'm not about to make this post a bitch session or a 'rage against the machine' that is corporate America. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time (and I think there are about three of you out there) you know how I feel about corporate life, urban landscapes and north Texas terrain.

Nope this post is all about a statement of my current reality and a prayer cast to the four winds that a change of fortune blow my way.

please.

love and light all,
Jer

If I could have one wish

2010-04-21T15:56:00.002-05:00

This picture has nothing to do with this post.

I crept into Hunter and Wilders rooms last night ostensibly to 'check' on them, you know, make sure they were still breathing and not all tangled up in exposed electrical wires or being gnawed upon by rats from the dungeon beneath the house.

Well, I DID slip in to make sure they were ok.

Anyway, As I was listening to Hunters soft, regular little breaths and kneeling down to give him a kiss as he lay sleeping. I had a thought that seemed to me to come from way down in my lucid innermost center.

"Oh! How I wish I could do this same thing every night for the rest of my life."

I know the day will come, and if you have read much of this blog you will recognize a common theme here, that my little boys will be teenagers and then young men and then grown men and my days of slipping in for a kiss (without a yell or a punch to the mouth) will be over.

It made me sad.
So, I kissed him twice and then crept into Wilders room to do the same thing.
Same soft curly blond hair. Same deep, regular breaths. Same kiss for my first born.

I once had a cross-country coach (Coach Gorham) who used to yell at us as we were running down hill "Make hay while the sun shines boys, MAKE HAY WHILE THE SUN SHINES!"

I thought I understood what he meant back then but I think I have a new idea of what that saying means to me.
Sure, running down hill is a great way to pick up a little time on your three mile run in a cross-country race but man-oh-man is it a better way to look at being with my little ones while I can. I guess I'll always feel the same. I sure hope I do.
;)

Make hay while the sun shines. Make all the damn hay I can.

PS
As I was writing this today I remembered that last night, as I was trying to get to sleep, I had another bittersweet thought. I hardly ever call my Mom or Dad.

(Yes yes 'TyLeighCati-SkySethSavanah-EndlessList' I know, you either...I'm sorry!)

I ain't gonna make any excuses here. I am just going to try a little harder to not be the sort of son who would break my own heart by never keeping in touch.

I'm sorry ya'll.

love and light,
Jer

/Sigh

2010-03-30T14:03:00.005-05:00

I was just waiting for our Print Vendor here at work to correct an error on my final client print proof and get back to me with a new set of proofs, when I started clicking through the photo folder on my laptop.

As I clicked along I came across this and it stopped me in my mental tracks.
I held my breath.

I know.
I know.
I know.
I know its no big deal.

Babies become toddlers who become boys who become big boys. I just left this grinning little gooberfish this morning as he was having his breakfast.

I also remember taking this picture almost as clearly as I remember kissing him goodbye this morning.
We had just given baby Hunter a bath in the sink and lil' Wilder wanted to take one there too. This was the last time, so far as I know, that he ever took a bath in the sink.

This was not even two years ago.

He knows the word 'consequences' and he understands how to use it.
He is playing Tee Ball.
He loves Star Wars, Robots, Knights and Dragons. ( who doesn't? )
He has never met anyone who wasn't already his friend.
He would eat cheese for every meal,, given the opportunity. (note I said 'for', not 'at' it's an important distinction.
He knows how to push his Mama's buttons. Already.
He loves with complete clarity and lack of guile.
He's my son.
I can't wait for him to grow up so I can see and know him for the young man he will someday be and I wish with all my heart that he could somehow stay my little boy forever.

Papa

Trickle UP?

2010-03-26T13:26:00.004-05:00

I was poking around on the internet while I ate my (wonderful Kris prepared) puled pork sammich today when I came across this little gem on DXM.

"A short bit over at the Examiner Online gets into not simply the current fight over extending unemployment benefits to the 14-million Americans still without jobs or severely underemployed but details what would've happened had the money given wantonly and without restriction to failing Wall Street titans instead been put in the hands of average Americans."

From the Examiner Article:

"Think of all the trillions that have been spent on banks and insurance giants yet underemployment has reached record levels. I mention this stat on occasion because it shows you just how much money has been wastefully thrown at corrupt and insolvent financial institutions.

According to numerous reports, the US Treasury and Federal Reserve have pumped upwards of $14 trillion to support failing financial institutions. There are approximately 100 million households in the US.

So, if you divide that $14 trillion by 100 million and that means that each and every US household could have been sent a check for $140,000. Just think of what the American consumer would have done with $140,000 in their checking account. Instead of a failed trickle-down economy, we would have had a robust trickle-up economy."

I DO realize that this is a ridiculous proposition, in practice, but it still put clouds in my eyes thinking about it. What I could have done with 140000.00 large in 'found money'? I know it wouldn't be right. it is nothing but wealth redistrubution. Still...

Peace and love all,
Jer

Pure Horrorshow

2010-03-08T11:41:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I was watching the boys while Kris did a little shopping. We can't seem to keep Wilder in clothes the little booger is growing so up fast. With that in mind, she had headed out to pick him up some pants and tee shirts and of course superhero underwear.

I was on the computer which is right next to the kitchen. Wilder was watching some ridiculous cartoon of a purple chubby kid who belches and his stone troll looking pal. I had set Hunter up at the sink so he could play one of his favorite games. He stands at the sink with the water running on low and fills and empties little plastic cups. he would do it for hours if we would let him, but it honestly wastes too much water.

Anywho, he had been playing in the kitchen for five or ten minutes with me periodically peeping my head in to see if he was OK when I noticed he had changed his location to the stove.

I mentally resolved to go see what he was doing.

Very soon.

I was about then that heard him murmuring "yummy, yummy" over and over.
A chill passed through me.
I then proceeded to utilize that part of my brain that, until I had children, I didn't realize was there. I rewound in my memory and replayed the last 30 seconds or so before he said "yummy yummy."

sluuuuuuuuuurp

splash splash splash
crickle crackle crunch
splash splash
clatter clatter clatter
sluuuuuuuuuurp

This did not sound good.

I got up and stepped through the doorway into the kitchen and saw...

This.

The picture honestly doesn't do it justice. That skillet had been full of bacon grease.
He had, apparently, filled the skillet with water from the sink.
(remember his little game of water at the sink?)

Then added some milk.
Then apparently he scrounged up some oranges and a few hard boiled eggs.
(which he ripped opened and added to his little soup-from-hell shells and all.

Yes, that IS a fillet knife in the picture.
(I'm not sure what he was using it for and no he didn't cut himself.)

woot. Papa of the year here.

But the best part? You guessed it. He was eating that vile little mixture all the while muttering to himself in his cute little voice "yummy yummy".

peace all
Jer

Try a little...

2010-03-03T10:38:00.002-06:00

I read recently that the United States is more politically divided today than it has been at any time in it's history since the civil war. I read that many friends and families can't even sit down to a decent meal and have a civil discussion about the politics of the day without someone storming off before dessert.

Today via numerous outlets all of us can get our current views and prejudices reinforced daily by seeking out like minded media and conversation.

Conservatives have Fox News, Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck. Liberals have MSNBC, Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow. Everyone on both sides seems to be shaking their fist, smirking behind their hands and talking about 'the other side' as if we weren't all citizens of these United States equally. More disturbingly I hear and read on both sides keep spouting rhetoric about 'taking back OUR country'.

From who?

Really? Ok then, seriously, from who?

Your cousin?
Your little sister? (that damn liberal punk kid?) *
Your fathers (tight-ass conservative old fart) **
Your mom?
Granny? Seriously?

Here is what I propose and here is my very modest challenge.

How about we all try a little listening. How about we all, just one time every day or so, engage someone who we know has a different perspective from ours and listen to what they have to say.

No seriously, really listen.

Don't just smile and nod and try to figure out a way to change their mind. Actually weigh what they are saying and listen. Try to find some common ground. I would be genuinely surprised if you don't find some common ground.

If we all do this with one another an amazing thing just might happen.
We might find that we're not so far apart as we think.
We might see that we haven't 'lost' our country.
We might all heal a little bit.

In the grand scheme of things, this may not sound like it can really make all that much of a difference but I feel differently. There is no place more important to begin and no place more effective than between you and me.

Peace all,
Jer

* for comic effect, I love my little sisters.
** for the record my dad and my wifes dad are both great guys and this was not directed at them. It's a stereotype. and anyways, they don't read this blog.

Food Inc.

2010-03-01T12:52:00.005-06:00

Over the weekend I rented and watched a couple of movies that I had never really heard of. A horror flick and a documentary.

The scary one was all about disease, poverty, death, horrific human created germs, abusive governmental power and other nightmare scenarios.

The other one was about zombies.

Food Inc is the documentary and was significantly scarier than the zombie movie I rented. As with ~~every~~ most things that the Federal Government gets involved in there were probably good intentions originally to the government intervention. The Federal Farm bill was originally proposed to help out the small farmers. To keep them on the land despite price fluctuation in commodity crops like corn, soybeans and wheat. To reduce the chance of over production. Predictably though, when money is on the table, there will always be people who will work to 'game' the system and since we're talking about billions of dollars in tax revenues being paid to big agriculture ...well the system has by now been pretty well gamed.

The movie touches on a whole host of seemingly unrelated issues facing the United States:

Health and obesity

Mexican immigration

Free trade agreements

Diabetes

Deadly food born pathogens

Consolidation of food production

Genetically modified food (plant and animal)

food riots in Africa

Climate change

greenhouse gases

...and of course Oil.

It then goes forward to relate all of these issues in very simple and very troublesome ways.

I don't have the time or inclination to go into all of the details of the movie, suffice to say that it was very powerful and thoroughly insightful. I would have to recommend that everyone see it who can. Be careful though, it will very likely change the way you look at the food you eat and you will be much more careful what you put in your mouth for a long time to come.

Jer

Apple

2010-02-05T11:12:00.004-06:00

"Oh Yeah! That's why I eat apples."

I just had the best damn apple I have had in as long as I can remember. You know one of those apples that reminds you of why you like apples. No bitter peel, so juicy I looked like I was drooling. (maybe I was...) It was big enough to make my jaws creak when I bit into it.

I ate it, and all the while was thinking, " This is like candy, man." and really hoping that it would last. Then, way to quickly, I caught myself eating the last little bits of crap from around where the stem was and the blossom used to be.

Reminded me of when I was in High School, my buddy Dave Schwartz and I used to take some perverse delight (I have no idea why we did this) in eating every piece of the apples we consumed. Core, seeds, stem...everything.

I haven't thought of that in years.

Jer

This morning

2010-02-04T11:09:00.002-06:00

I'm not gonna talk about it, I'm just gonna do it.

Hunter this morning hit K and I with a blast from the past. Made my heart ache, just a little.

He was sitting on my lap crumb-ily enjoying his 'breakfast' of (toasted and pizza-esque sliced) raisin cinnamon english bagel with honey with a side of sharp cheddar cheese...and coffee, when he got a bit agitated and started squirming around.

I asked him what was wrong, and he looked up at me (makin' a face similar to the picture up there) and then looked into my coffee cup and in a sweet sing-song little voice asked the universe, " Biiiiiiiiiiink where are youuuuuuuuuuuu?"

Yeah, he was asking his bink, to tell him where it was.

Presumably full of expectation that it would indeed answer from some lonely corner of the house. "Huuuuunter, heeeereee I ammmmmmmm"

:)

K looked at me and I looked at her and, as it turned out, we were both thinking the same thing. She voiced it first.
"Do you remember how Wilder used to do the same thing?"

I couldn't help but smile as I thought (very quickly) "I wonder how many times in K and I's later years will we repeat those same words but just to each other."

Do you remember when Wilder used to...
Do you remember when Hunter used to...

love you hon,
J

/sigh.

Term Limits

2010-01-29T11:02:00.001-06:00

I got two words for you.

Term Limits.

I was listening to an interview with David Walker, the author of 'Come Back America and at some point in the interview he made a point that was, in a word, elegant.

He was asked if there was any solution to the oft repeated problem in the political arena (specifically in the United States) to the inability of politicians to accomplish anything but cosmetic changes in policy.

His reply? (In grossly paraphrased form) Was that "we have a dysfunctional democracy. A democracy that in no way resembles what the founding fathers intended. What we have in Washington (and indeed in every state) are Career politicians who see their position not as one of Public Service but rather as a Job.
This fails us in every possible way and has fostered the inefficiency, the greed, the virtual corporate-ocracy that we have in place of a government of, for and by the people."

With Term limits in place federal public servants would know that regardless of what they do they only have 4 or 12 years in office. I can only imagine that their first terms would (for a while, till the old guard dies off) still be very similar to the impotent manner in which it is conducted today. The second terms, however, that would be when we would see things actually getting done. There is no 'next election' to pander for. There would be no reason to concern oneself with what would piss off the least number of constituents.

Perhaps the mantra would be "Just do the job you were sent to do and leave Public Service with a legacy of having done more good than bad."

Hell, I can dream right?

Peace all

Jer

what tha?

2010-01-08T16:42:00.004-06:00

I took my bike out for a spin (around the block about 9 times) a couple weeks ago and the engine was hitting a really nasty lick. I figured that it must be bad gas so I (planned) to drain the gas and go get some fresh go-juice.

Then an afternoon a day or so later during the recent holidays I got ready to drain the tanks and winterize the ol girl and I noticed that my #3 spark plug wire is...well see for yourself.

JC Whitney here I come.

...ps anybody got a spare plug wire assembly for a Honda 1973 BB 750 K3A?

peace and love all
Jer

Over the Holidays

2010-01-06T09:22:00.002-06:00

I took the boys to the market, thought maybe I would give K a rest and pick up the supplies we needed to prep our Yule celebration meal.
As we rolled into Whole Foods I snapped this shot.
Today I printed it out and put it up on the wall of my desk.

Three Days and counting!

2009-12-21T10:49:00.002-06:00

Hunters Hospital Visit

2009-12-09T09:36:00.004-06:00

This past Friday evening Hunter and I had the pleasure of a late night (early morning) visit to the emergency room.

He had been running a fever off and on for a couple days and periodically it would spike into the 'oh crap' zone but the lovely and competent Kris and I had been able to moderate it with childrens Motrin.

Kris had had a girls-night-out and I had put the boys down and was sleeping soundly when I heard him plaintively calling from his room. Paaaapaaaaaa. So I stumbled my way down, felt his head and face and satisfied that he was not feverish, I rubbed his back till he fell asleep.

a little while later...

I heard him plaintively calling from his room. Paaaapaaaaaa. I stumbled my way down the hall again, felt his head and face and again sure that he was not feverish. I rubbed his back till he fell asleep.

a little while later...

I heard him plaintively calling from his room. Paaaapaaaaaa. I steep staggered my way down the hall again, felt his head and face verified for a third time that he was not feverish. I rubbed his back till he fell asleep.

I am not sure how many times this reoccurred but after one of them and just before the final I got him up and went ahead and gave him his Motrin dose, reasoning that if he was sleeping this fitfully he must be uncomfortable.

a little while later...

I heard him plaintively calling from his room. Paaaapaaaaaa. This time I thought I would let him cry a bit and, hopefully, conk out.

However, this time Kris heard him, she did her version of my 'stumble', 'check' and 'rub' but to her dismay, his fever had spiked and was now hovering around 104.7. In our house, that is go see the doctor time.

I pulled on my street legal clothes, bundled up the Hunter and off we went to see the fine folks at Doctors Hospital.

Thank God it was a quiet night. A nurse actually met me in the parking lot and asked if she could help. I explained what was going on and by the time I got inside the emergency room all I had to do was fill out a single form and zippppp we headed to the back for his wrist band (which was not well received) " offff Papaaa Oooofffffff!". Then the (really nice, laid back) emergency room doctor came by, took his vitals and eventually administered a good deal of children's Tylenol.

One Popsicle and a few more general hospital approved indignities, weathered with the usual aplomb of Hunter, and his fever was down and we were on our way back home.

love and Peace all,

Jer

December 2 2009

2009-12-03T08:49:00.004-06:00

Yesterday was my 43 birthday.

It snowed here in Dallas and it was the first snow of the season.

My day was a good one. My friends Patrick and Jim and Daniel took me out to lunch.

They burned my tater tots.

Work was work.

I wrapped up at five-oh-three and took the elevator to the ground floor.

It's gotten cold in Dallas and on the way to my garage I wore my hat and gloves.

When I got home, the kitchen was warm and smelled heavenly.

Kris had put up birthday decorations and cooked a delicious Italian dinner.

The pita chips in hummus was an awesome touch.

I had a glass of dry red wine with dinner.

The boys were loud and I think Kris and I had the same thought on that.

'life was quieter before kids.'

My wife and I spent some time together after we put the boys to bed.

Wilder didn't get up once he was down.

That was nice.

Later Kris watched Top Chef and I played a little online Warhammer 40K with my friend Jeff.

He tells me I make a damn fine Space Marine.

Eventually, Kris and I went to bed.

My birthday.

Jer

A Proposal ... not modest.

2009-12-02T14:46:00.004-06:00

Would I be considered 'radical' if I were to propose a couple of basic guidelines for modifying our political topography?

I wonder if it might be possible to make a change here or there in our approach and attitude toward the privilege of voting that could, if handled properly, increase the likelihood that the citizens of the constitutional republic of the United States of America might continue to elect political figures with more than two brain cells to rub together. I wonder if there could be some basic qualifiers we could put in place that might assist us in electing people who are not necessarily the most popular but who may be the most qualified and representative of our true needs.

Could we mandate an IQ test and a minumum IQ of, of say, 95? Alas, upon consideration I think not. That would effectively eliminate 45% of the population of the United States. They are citizens and despite that many of them are unable, unwilling or disinclined to actually understand the current political landscape, they should have a voice.

Perhaps we could require something more specific and useful. We could have a simple ten question quiz that covers the absolute basic concepts of governance, foreign and domestic policies, federal budgeting and current national priorities. A brief, bipartisan vetted pamphlet could be included with the open book quiz. The voter could skim the quiz, read the pamphlet, answer the questions and then move on and vote. This would, at least, insure that in the final analysis all voters in the US would have been, at least one time, exposed to the true platforms and actual relevant concepts necessary to cast a responsible vote for the president of the United States.

Never happen.

Too much work.

Too many individuals or special interest groups would call it socialist, or communist, of fascist or some other -ist that they don't actually understand the meaning of. There is too much benefit to be had (for the status quo) from an ignorant, uninformed, scared population of 'Consumers' or 'Taxpayers'.

I guess we just keep muddling along. I have to believe that for the most part we are all trying to do the best we can. That we are all, for the most part, decent people who want good things for ourselves and everyone else. That we are sane and have a good enough idea of what we are doing to not shoot off our collective foots.

/crosses fingers.

/and toes.

peace and love all,

Jer

Wilders Dream

2009-11-11T08:54:00.007-06:00

So Wilder comes rolling out of his bed this morning all aglow with the details of his dream last night. To be clear, the Wilder-ism for a dream is 'sleep-story'.

Apparently, from what Kris and I could decipher, he and Lea (who often figures prominently in Wilders sleep-stories' along with Luke and Micah were embroiled in battle with a trio of antagonists.

There were aliens, who were apparently no match for Super Wilder. (This was how he referred to himself and yes, you could hear the capital letters when he said it.)

There were some Kubla-blochs (or something like that) which splattered goo when they were defeated.

Finally there were an assortment of birds who apparently began the battle as very pokey-in-the-back-ey but they must have been weak or ineffective because 'it didn't hurt.'

As far as I could make out, eventually Wilder and the gang won the birds over to their side because by the end of the dream the birds were helping out our intrepid 'good-guys', the birds had become' friends'.

According to the hero of the story, IT WAS AWESOME!

love and light all,

Jer

Warning Politics and Opinion

2009-11-04T11:09:00.005-06:00

So it would appear that the voters in the state of Maine narrowly (53% is a pretty slim margin) rejected the same-sex marriage legislation that had been enacted by its state legislature. I was listening to some commentary regarding it this morning and I couldn't help but think two simple things.

One: State and Federal governments really need to get the hell out of the business of marriage. I don't think we are ever going to be able to remedy this (read: make it all go away) so long as one group of people is perceived to have a state sanctioned marriage and the other gets a legal union. Different but equal didn't work for civil rights and it won't work here either.

Two: While listening to the commentary of those who were celebrating the defeat of the same sex marriage laws I couldn't help but wonder If Mississippi, Tennessee, Alabama, Florida (you name the state, as long as it was in the south and had Jim Crow laws) had been given the option to vote on and potentially repeal interracial marriage mandates back in the sixties, would it be legal, even today for a white and a black to marry?

My perspective on this whole thing is simple. Less government involvement in my (and your) life is a good thing. Leave the definition of a marriage to the religious institutions, where it began, is cherished and really belongs.

peace and light all,

Jer

the best part of my day

2009-10-28T14:40:00.003-05:00

I am a very lucky guy. I get to have a very specific moment five days of every seven. Month after month and year after year. That simple fact damn near beggars me in its wonder.

If I could I would choose to live in this specific moment for all of time and just close my eyes and Be There always. When I imagine what a Heaven would be like I imagine it must be just like my 'best part of my day' only not fleeting, but forever.

Every day I get off of work and I drive home listening to NPR or some music on my iPhone.

I take pretty much the same route and some days I stop for little things we need from the market, you know, that sort of thing.

I pull up into the drive and unlock the passenger side door via the remote as I walk around the rear of the car. Typically, I lean in from the passenger side to open the garage door via the automatic opener. (I can never seem to remember to do that before I get out of the car.)

I gather up my things; my work bag, my coat or sports jacket, and a bag or two if I stopped at the market.

As I head toward the garage I begin to feel a grin bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest behind my heart and slightly under my stomach.

I walk past my motorcycle and squeeze past the Landrover towards the garage door. I juggle my things to get the door open. I head up the stairs and reach for the door.

And then, I get to have my moment.

My 'best part of my day', as Wilder says. (because, I suspect, Kris asks him the same question all the time.)

No matter how good or bad my day has been. No matter what shit I had to put up with today. No matter who aggravated me or irritated me or took my joy away, if even for a minute, matters right now.

I open the door and

there.

it.

is.

My wife is often cooking or finalizing dinner, she almost always has a smile for me(if slightly tired and frazzled) and she will never, ever understand how much that means to me and how beautiful she (always always always) looks to me right then.

My sons usually notice I am home right away (if they haven't already) and come running (quite literally) to greet me yelling, "Papa! Papa! Papa!" over and over with absolute joy in their eyes and grins of pure love on their faces.

I can only hope that they do someday know exactly what that meant to me, when they have little ones of their own.

I pick them up and hug them. I hold them tight and smell and kiss their hair. After a moment (usually they squirm away) I walk over, and kiss my wife.

It is really very simple, my 'best part of my day' and I can not imagine what life would be (or ever was) without it.

I love you honey,

Jer

Hunter Lexicon

2009-10-15T15:50:00.005-05:00

A long while back, back when he was just putting together two word sentences, I wrote a little lexicon of Wilderisms. It may be time to take a stab at a short one of the little wonder that is Hunter.

Short, because he really doesn't have THAT many words that I can comprehend or take a shot at spelling.

He does, however, have an astonishing grasp of what we say to him, frankly it's freaking amazing. I'm pretty sure that if I asked him to go get my copy of Principia and to find for me the chapter dealing with the mechanical push-physics of Rene Descartes he would stare at me for a moment and pantomime a chair to stand on. (the book is pretty high up on the bookshelf, ya see.)

anywho, without further adiu...

pron: Gouuu!

the verbal expletive is associated with him pushing the offending person/animal/chair out of/off of what ever he wants to be on.

meaning: Move, go, get out of my way.

pron:kay.

meaning: Affirmative, OK, Yes or (pointing) that's the thing that I want.

pron No or Noooooooooo

meaning: no, nope, nada, not happening.

Hungry

pron: yngri

meaning: hungry. this is often associated with tears of frustration at my inability to understand it.

Bannana

pron:nana

meaning: yep, the yellow fruit and not a piece of it the whole damn thing, thank you.

Yummy

pron:nummy (I swear to god, it is so cute)

meaning: my goodness but this is absolutely delicious.

Good Girl

pron: gud gryl

meaning: our family dog, Betty. I scrupulously avoided the obvious joke here.

Blue

pron:Bluuuuuuuuuuuuu

meaning: this cat who has adopted us and with whom Hunter has fallen in love.

pictures may be seen at scottcubed.blogspot.com

...thats all I can think of at this moment, if I think of more, I'll post.

Grats to my sweet cousin Melocha on her 250th post! woot!

love and peace all,

Jer

Our System of Governance

2009-09-28T10:43:00.003-05:00

I read an excellent blog piece this morning and thought I would post a link to his site. You may recognize his name and blog if you have recently received an email purportedly from him comparing Barack Obama and his admistration to HItler and the Nazi party pre World War 2. I know that is how I found him. He did not write that email and as near as I can tell continues to reirerate that pretty much every day to a growing audience of curious readers who have found him via a Snopes entry debunking the email.

It is ironic that it was attributed to him because he is in fact a supporter of Obama and his health care reform initiative, among other things.

In any event, this article is about a purported 'Blue Dog senator from Arkansas and the realities of working in Washington DC. To those who have not been paying attention for the past few years, the article may sound a bit jaded but I can tell you from my (very limited admittedly) experience and reading that it jives pretty damn well with what a lot of discouraged citizens are saying about the theatre that is our legislative.

http://historyunfolding.blogspot.com/2009/09/working-in-washington.html

Love and light all

Jer

Health Care. My thoughts.

2009-09-23T15:39:00.004-05:00

It's been a while since I did a political post and to be honest that's because I haven't felt terribly open with my politics these days. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a pretty outspoken guy and I have pretty entrenched beliefs on government and its role in my life. I am, to put it in the vernacular, a fiscal conservative states rights advocate with a very strong social issues liberal bent.

I do not want a strong federal government with the exception of foreign policy and defense. If I had my druthers there would (among many others) be no Department of Education, no federal reserve (as it exists today), no federal income tax, no corporate welfare, no farm subsidies and a balanced budget.

Insofar as my liberal social perspective I would (among a laundry list of other things) prefer that all governing bodies get the hell out of legislating morality. Decriminalize then tax and distribute drugs via state level dispensaries. Get out of the marriage business entirely and legally declare all current 'marriages' legal unions and give the right to contract yourself with another person to who ever wanted it regardless of sexual persuasion. Leave the definition of a 'marriage' to the churches, synagogue, temple, mosque or wooded grove where it belongs. Marriage is not a contract between two people and a government. It's a social recognition by the community of a couples love and commitment and for many of us the blessings of a God, whatever you call him or her. A legal union would satisfy the governments seeming insatiable need to take and waste our money and there would be no more posturing by the raging hypocrites on capital hill about preserving the sanctity of blah blah blah.

With all that said I am in favor of Universal Health care. By the Federal Government and an amendment to the constitution to mandate it.

Period.

Too many people have died in this country of plenty because of clerical errors or greed. ONE person should be too many but I just keep on reading about these denied care horror stories. I can only imagine the rage and fear and pain of thinking that I could not afford to pay for either of my sons or my wife's medical treatments and that because of that (my failure as a man perhaps?) one of my beloveds would die.

Seriously, are you kidding me?

We are the wealthiest nation on the planet. If we did away with the IRS tomorrow we would have to adjust the federal budget back to the same levels it was in 1997. If we cut the Defense budget (and incidentally quit screwing around with sovereign nations all over the world) by half we would still be spending 100% of what the rest of the entire planet spends on defense. I think that might be enough to cut it, don't you?

Somewhere in all of those billions in savings maybe we could pull our heads out of our collective asses, tell the private insurance companies to cram it up their ass and give every baby (and toddler, and little boy and girl and college kids and...well you get it) in the country a chance at a healthy life.

peace all,

Jer

No FEEEEEAAAARRRRRRR!

2009-09-22T16:00:00.006-05:00

I moved to Seattle back in 93 or so with a bunch of friends and my then girlfriend. This post is about one of the folks I migrated North West with and our adventures in a relatively novel sport for the day, snowboarding.

Youthful readers, keep in mind that when I was learning to snowboard, most resorts had very strict rules for when and where snowboarders could be on the slopes, if they allowed us at all.

My buddy Jeff and I headed out to Mount Baker for our first ever foray into the joys of riding a wooden board down a slick mountain of frozen water. As I recall we did take a class. It lasted, for he and I, about a half hour. The way cool instructor dude showed us all how to 'leaf' our front and rear edges for about fifteen minutes (gave Jeff and I one or two vague bits of advice) and then went off to hit on the chicks in the class for the remainder of the hour or so of the 'half-day' class. Pretty quickly we figured out we didn't have the necessary equipment to hold our instructors interest, and vice versa so we slipped off.

After this bit of solid instruction and both of us being masters at leafing along one one edge or the other, we headed off to the lifts and up the mountain. This was our first mistake.

We made our painfully awkward way to the first lift we saw. It had a map and a couple of blue stars and being pretty much totally ignorant of what the color codes meant we clambered into the lift area where I was promptly wacked in the back of the head as I somehow missed landing my ass on the bench seat. Jeff jumped off at about 5 feet altitude(which really pissed off the lift operator) they stopped the entire lift (I was waaaay too much of a novice to even be embarassed by this horrific event, if that is imaginable.)which I thought was really nice of them and I clambered on the seat.

The ride up was a lot of fun. Jeff and I exclaimed like giddy Kentucky schoolgirls on their first trip to the big city at how high we were, and how quiet it was and how damn cool this was. Not being terrified at what we were getting into was our second mistake.

We got to the top, the lift unceremoniously dumped us to the ground. Of course, we wiped-out and got utterly tangled together and managed to completely fubar the NEXT two people coming off the lift in our attempts to extricate ourselves but finally got off to the side where we could pull ourselves together.

We turned to look down the mountain and were completely enthralled by the beauty and the view. Another mistake, we should have sat down, taken off our boards and started the two hour walk down from there but no, we weren't done screwing this up yet.

We leafed our way ever so cautiously into the run and managed to not die by keeping to the edges and falling a lot. we had no idea where we were going but as I recall it was more fun that terrifying. Pure bad luck and no knowlege of the lay of the mountain took us to another lift, just a bit don from where we had dropped off. This one had two black diamonds as its symbol.

I had a vague idea that black something or other was a bigger or faster or longer run. After relaying this bit of not-incorrect-but-certainly-lacking-in-one-bit-of-detail to Jeff he and I figured that if we went up higher still we would have more fun 'cause we would have more riding down.

Soooo we repeated the Keystone Cops routine of getting on and off the lift.(This time we didn't ruin anyone elses disembarking from the lift, but only because there was no one behind us.) There was hardly anyone AT ALL on the lift. Something we probably should have noticed.

We turned again and looked down the mountain to appreciate the glorius view. My blood ran cold. I'm not sure what Jeff's reaction was but he was murmuring something that looked like "this is not good". There was a bit of a level spot and then the world dropped (nay caved) off into an abyss of vertical horror and corporal destruction, paved with an inch of snow and a trillion tons of ice and wind and cold lonely treewells and moguls man traps and well, death.

I seriously considered detaching my manhood and asking if I could ride the lift back down.

Jeff however, much to my chagrin (and frankly amazement) gave a hoot of something like joy and terror combined and took off into certain death. Naturally, I followed him.

I have no clear memory of the next hour or two or three or four (and likely more like five hours) but during our slips and slides and leafing and tumbling and ass sliding and uncountable number of yard sales we managed to get about a thousand miles out of bounds and into what looked like side-of-the-mountain farmland. (I swear I saw a couple frozen cow patties) Finally by riding our snow boards like sleds for about a half hour we got back in bounds and came across a jump.

A.
Jump.

Not leaving immedietly was our final mistake, but a fortuitous one, at least for this story.

Of course we tried it. That's how I get to the funny part of this story. I went first. I stood at the top of the jump and seriously questioned the prudence and sanity of this. Considering I hadn't gone 20 feet in a straight line in five or six hours, here I was about to try and board sixty or so feet down a narrow run to a lip-lift and a virtual gorge (of about 15 feet length and 8 feet depth, in all honesty) where I would leave the ground, fly for a bit and somehow not break my neck and die.

Naturally, I went.

I don't remember many details except the gut punching impact of my landing and white snow filled vision and the reality the I had lost my hat, one glove my board one boot and all of my dignity but I was still in one piece.

I looked up just in time from gathering my clothes to see Jeff in all his primitive wild haired glory (complete with tons of little snow berries) head down the run. He looked awesome. Good form, head forward, arms slightly pinwheeling to the sides and then he picked up speed and hit the lip. As he sailed the 8 feet or so toward the ground he threw back his head and howled "NO FEEEEAAAAAArgblghhbhghrhgrhgrghrg!" Before he could finish the snowboarder equivalent of GERONIMO! he caught the most horrific, sick, no-way-he-survived-that-shit front-edge I have ever had the fortune of seeing.
I was both transfixed and appalled.
I thought he might be dead.

Thats when he did it. My friend Jeffs comedic magnum opus. He threw back his head and looked over at me with snow packed eyes, snow berried hair, no hat or gloves or snowboard in sight and an (I swear to god) six inch booger hanging out of his nose.
"Eaaarrrrrrr!" he said as he completed the No Fear yell.

My reply probably confused him. "HAhahahahahahahahahahaahah" gasp "hahahahahahaahahahahahaah" wheeze "hahahahahahaah" replied I.

Once again I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. I was virtually vapor locked.

The incongruity of that (truely fearless) leap juxtaposed with that gigantic booger hangin' out of his nose overwhelmed me. It burned out a reason circuit in my brain.

I reached out and wiped it off of his face...and showed it to him.

what a day.

peace and love all,
Jer

The two hardest laughs of my life...so far Part 1

2009-09-21T15:46:00.012-05:00

Since I don't have any digital pics of Ty and I handy, here's one of two brothers with whom I have a passing aquaintance.
;P

I know you know what I mean when I day 'hard' laugh. When you laugh so damned hard that it makes your ribs ache. You can't breathe. Your sides hurt. Your face hurts from laughing.
so.
damn.
hard.

The first time I remember:

In my minds eye my brother Ty and I played together all the time when we were kids. You wouldn't know it to hear my Mom talk about how I never played with him. About how I was mean to him and made him cry, and I was always reading or playing off by myself. You know, being a nerd. To be fair, in retrospect, she's probably right but I couldn't have ignored him all the time because most of my childhood memories are of me and Ty playing.

On to the first hardest I ever laughed.
One day Ty and I were engaged in defacing one of his comic books via the simple expediency of a pen, cartoon dialogue bubbles and copious juvenile humour. I don't remember what the comic was, who any of the characters were or anything connected to it except for the dialogue we were adding. I PERFECTLY remember that we coined a new word for a fart (fart was a bad word, we weren't going to incriminate ourselves in writing so we dreamed up 'famp'.)and applied it liberally throughout the comic laughing uproariously the entire time.

Here, let me paint you a picture. Two boys huddled protectively over a comic book. One is holding a pen.
Draw a little cartoon dialogue bubble.
Look over at Ty, he is smiling.
Write 'famp' in the bubble.
Look over at Ty, he is giggling.
Make the sound with my lips, you know pbbbbblbblbbblssshshst!.
Look over at Ty, he is red faced and gasping for breath.

he is laughing, I am laughing. laughing hard. We're slighly hysterical in that way you can get when your little. Ty has been laughing so hard that his nose is running a little and his snickers, at our latest drawing, are starting to ramp up to full on guffaws. Yep, sure enough, this guy has a big ol 'famp' coming out of his butt.

This went on for what seemed like hours, but was probably only twenty minutes or so. This is when it happens. My little brothers comedic magnum opus.
I glanced over at him and he snortled, or snuckled or some sort of half snort and half laugh but the result was that he blew a snot bubble the size of a softball.
My world fundamentally changed in that moment. I had just seen the FUNNIEST THING IMAGINABLE.
I think I may have lost consciousness I was laughing so hard. No sounds were coming out of me. I was vapor locked.

When I could communicate a few minutes later Ty was laughing just as hard as I and laughed all the harder when I told him what he had done.
what a fun day.

Part 2 tomorrow. Gryder, I'm talkin' to you.

peace and love all,
Jer

Found this today...

2009-09-01T10:34:00.004-05:00

I was cleaning up my work computer this morning and came across this little gem. Considering I referenced it in my post yesterday I thought I would just go ahead and drop it here.

man oh man.

Schooldays...it has begun.

2009-08-31T14:14:00.004-05:00

Today was Wilders first day of school. I snapped this once he was all dressed (in the clothes he picked out) and ready.

today.

damn.

Since the day we put him in his tiny butt in that gigantic seeming car seat and I thought to myself:

1. I can't believe they are going to let us take this little thing home with us.

- and

2. Holy crap, EIGHTEEN years. (at least)

Today was only the second time I looked at him and the weight of 'life moves fast' thwacked me square between the eyes, then followed up with a swift kick in the gut. I can not believe my first born son is already going to school.

already.already. already.

it's just too soon.

Seems like no time at all (and a million years ago, all at the same time) that he was a wailing little redfaced booger just dying for me to pick him up and hold him ...oh wait, that was this weekend.

Nevermind what I was saying.

He may have started school today, but he's still my little boy.

For a while yet.

love and peace all,

Jer

Recycling

2009-08-28T12:53:00.003-05:00

This pic has nothing to do with this post...

I meant to drop a copy of this little " 16 things about me" here on the blog a long time ago. This was originally a FaceBook post, but then and now I realized that not everyone who swings by this blog every great once in a while is ON Facebook.

So if you saw it there, move along, nothing new here, same old stuff.

16 things about me you may not know...

1. As a child, my belly button stuck out. I was so self-conscious of this anatomical irrelevancy that I spent most of my youth, in the summer, with a shirt on. At roughly the age of 10, one fine summer day, I pushed my belly button into my stomach as far as I could. It stayed. The angels sang.

2. I am afraid of only two things. Alzheimers and Bears.

3. On my 21st birthday, I went to bed a 7:30 pm in disgust.

4. I have at various times in my life (in no particular order) worked as a fisherman, a model, a plasma flux welder, a barista, a door to door salesman, an IT security specialist, a bouncer, a remodeler, a dock loader, a phone solicitor, a waiter, a line cook, a bartender, a decoy, a seminarian and a personal assistant.

5. Given the opportunity, I would upload to the net.

6. I am completely devastated by the site of a star filled sky.

7. I have a deep and abiding belief that the human race is fundamentally good, well intentioned and capable of muddling its way through just about anything...given enough time to make a lot of mistakes.

8. I do not, as a rule, trust anything that is said, written or emoted by a career politician. It is my lucid belief that Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus epitomized the perfect politician.

9. Although it isn't cool with the peeps I hang with...I really like Bob Segar. and Boston.

10.To me, the sweetest sounds in the world are the sounds of my wife and sons laughing.

11.When I was a boy, I was convinced that I would be an astronaut someday. The day I surpassed the maximum height of 6'4" was one of the saddest days of my youth. It almost ruined for me the fact that my belly button no longer stuck out.

12. As a child, EVERYONE except my paternal grandmother called me Pookie. Since it rhymes with Dookie, and I had gotten pretty tired of that little moniker one fine day I refused to answer to Pookie and in a demonstration of willpower not seen in me since, changed my reality and became little Jerry. As of today, the only person who ocassionally refers to me as Pookie, is my sweet cousin Melocha (and her less sweet sister Renee (heh joke))...and with them, I never minded at all.

13. I hate phones.

14. I am secretly weird and arrogant. really weird. I just hide it well.

15. I can cook a mean ass Adobo. Gryder, if ya want the recipe, it is that meat in a pot you were talking about. Email me and I will send ya the recipe.

16. I am terrified by the realization that the vast majority of life (at the ripe old age of 42) is STILL basically flying by the seat of my pants. I really thought I would have it all figured out by now.

2009-07-29T21:16:00.003-05:00

I was just reading Wilder his good night story a little while ago (Pizza Pat, for those of you who care) and as I wrapped up the story and moved on to the singing portion of the evening festivities Wilder waxed quizzical.

" Papa, " he began " Are you going to stay here with me all morning?"

I told him that tomorrow was a 'work day' and that I would need to go in in the morning.

" What are you going to do?" he asked reasonably.

I told him that I would make sure all the computers were working well and make some monies so we could have nice things.

This is where Wilder pulls his 'tiny sage' crap on me.

"Papa", he said, " We have everything we need already. We have me and you and Momma and I love you. We have everything already that we need. Don't go back to work, ok?"

/sigh.

peace and light,

Jer

Cheese, Money and Work

2009-07-09T10:42:00.002-05:00

Well it has been far too long between posts and this is one I wanted to get up here before it is lost to me in the whirlwind of work, children and general chaos that is my life these days.

A morning a few weeks ago, as I was ramping up to get out the door and off to work, Wilder informed me that he “Did Not Want Me to go to work today!” I bent down and in my best Papa voice explained to me that I had to go to work, so I could make money and so that I could buy him (at this point I thought very hard about a few of his favorite things, and cheese came to mind. Wilder is a notorious cheese hound.) some cheese.
Wilder stopped for a moment, considered this carefully and in his sweet little boy voice piped up, “ Ok Papa, take me with you to your work and I will help you find lots of cheese fastly, then we can come back home sooner.”

I was speechless. Still am, to be honest. Damn do I love this stuff.
Love all,
Jer

Bonified Beach Bum

2009-05-13T06:31:00.005-05:00

So I met a real life beach bum he night before last. Never thought I would have the pleasure. Well that is, till I was one. I did always think, to caveat, that I would be one of the high class royalty type beach-hobos. You know, the ones who live in a slightly wrecked boat, up on stilts, on a deserted stretch of beach.

I'll just file that one away under " maybe" and see what life slings at me over the next couple decades.

In any event, I was down to the Circle K and some (moderately) strange things were afoot. That is, I and some (unbelievably tan) fellah' earnestly searching his pockets and muttering something about "two dollars".
(wow, 2 obscure movie references in one sentence, neither related in any way to the movies in question.)

Anyways, I picked up a gallon of milk (my actual goal) and some bacon (bonus) and a bottle of red wine (bonus bonus) and made my way up to the cashier. As I passed this erstwhile beach comber he began to regale me with a tale of woe. Somehow while he had been sleeping on the beach his two bucks had made an escape. I asked him in a reasonable voice if he had checked his shoe.

" Good idea" he replied and proceeded to remove his shoes. If I had any doubt previous to this as to whether or not he as an wandering sand farmer, I no longer did.
I took this opportunity (as one must when they present themselves) to act as a two-bit Genie.
"So" I began, " what this this missing two dollars going to purchase for you this evening?"
" well" he replied, visible screwing up his dignity, "I don't just have two dollars. That was just my cigarette money."
" Ah I replied, what kind of cigarettes do you normally smoke?" all the while asking this I ws imagining ones harvested from an ash tray.
" Typically, the less costly brands", he said.
" well, I began, "If you could have any pack of cigarettes you wanted..?"

(For those of you keeping score, this is me being a Genie, you know, One Wish and all that...but only for a pack of cigarettes.)

So Mr. Sand dweller began to make the store clerk do a little song and dance as he moved through the entire bottom row of packs. Abbout half way through this routine I swear he looked up and me, grinned and winked.

He picked out a pack of Camel Wides. I added em' to my little bill. He thankd me and made sure I understood that if I even needed anything, he woulld be there for me. We shook hands. He thanks me and I made my way out into the night to head home. I presume he did the same, wherever that would be.

Jer

2009-04-13T14:54:00.003-05:00

This picture has nothing to do with this post.

I went to the Dallas department of records today to pick up Hunters birth certificate. Well, a copy of his birth certificate because K and I have managed to misplace the one they gave us at the hospital. (assuming that they did give us one.) I learned two interesting life lessons during this mini quest.

I googled the route prior to heading out and forgot to take into account that a pedestrian, like me, is not beholden to the rules of one-way streets in my google search. Had I done so my trip would have been:

a. much faster.

b. much less visually and aromatically stimulating.

I am not really sure exactly where I was for part of the trip, but I did pass someones outdoor toilet and several other pedestrians of somewhat suspect lineage and stability.

In any event, I managed to get to the Records office and locate the correct line to stand in. Once I got to the head of the line I was informed, in the usual polite and helpful manner by the civil employees (if you now what I mean) that I had failed to complete the prerequisite form-filling-out that had not been mentioned either online, on the voice mail message, by the customer service representative I spoke with or by any designating sign. So I went and filled out the proper forms, got back at the end of the line and waited my turn.

Eventually I was back at the same place I had started. I was told the price would be $23.00 and then asked to verify essentially everything on the form which I began to do. When she go to K's name the quickly exasperated civil employee immediately proceeded to scribble out her last name and asked me in an irritated voice " What her MAIDEN" name was, " before you were married." I replied, as it was written, "Scott, we had the...".

"No," she interrupted, "her MAIDEN name" with considerable stress on the maiden. I began again "Her name was the same as it is now, Scott. Yes, we had the same last name before we married and no, we are not related."

She looked at me for a few seconds and prepared to drop her hidden bombshell. The one that really got me to thinking.

" Are you the father of record on the birth certificate?" I had a few witty replies leap to mind, but I discarded them all as I was pretty sure none of them would be funny or original to her.

"Yes"

"If you are not, you will not receive a refund."

Then, without further adu she scooped up my drivers license and my credit card and charged me my potentially non refundable twenty-three bucks. I was then dismissed to the bench to wait and wonder if I would get the certificate or just be sent packing empty handed. About ten minutes later I was summoned via loudspeaker to another window and lo and behold my name must have been on the original. Hallelujah!

As I turned to leave I thought about the first womans parting statement for a minute. How often must it have happened that a 'potential' fathers name did not appear on a birth certificate or I suppose, no name was listed, for this woman to feel a need to proactively warn me about the no refund policy. I mean, they made No effort to proactively get me to fill out the forms necessary to get the copy in the first place but THIS warning was considered necessary.

damn.

peace and love ya'll,

Jer

John Stewart

2009-03-16T14:33:00.012-05:00

Holy Moley,
John Stewart just keeps on not dissapointing. I honestly thought that post Rove, Chaney and Bush (yeah, that is in decending order of both power and intelligence) his (self writing) show would have pretty much nothing left to do. Much to my dismay, I couldn't have been more shortsighted. I forgot to consider that the tragi-comedy that is our current economic situation would be a gold mine for the writers ar the Daily Show.
wow. just wow.
If ever before John (ostensibly the host of a COMEDY show, for the love of God) more thoroughly nailed someone to a wall and maintained both his sense of tact, perspective and just overall decency, I haven't seen or heard of it.
Here --> wow.

Notable Quotes:
Cramer:"We got 17 hours of live TV a day to do..."
Stewart: "Maybe you could cut down on that?"
Stewart:"The difference is not good call bad call, the difference is real market and unreal market."
"I want the Jim Cramer on CNBC to protect me from THAT Jim Cramer."
- directed to Jim Cramer regarding Jim Cramer the Hedge Fund trader.
Stewart: "I understand you want to make finance interesting, but its not a game and when I watch that I can't tell you how angry it makes me."

There is a lot more and most of it a hell of a lot more interesting in context. I think the salient point that John (I still can't believe he is considered a comedy show host given the caliber of his intellect and his staff) was trying to make to Cramer was simple. How cool would it be for CNBC and Jim Cramer specifically to assume the mantle of investor fiduciary Punisher/Judge Dredd? I mean seriously, if you were a CEO or a Hedge fund manager and were engaged in regulatory grey areas and you knew Cramer was going to regularly check your ass out don't you think a few of them might wipe their noses a bit more often?
John was handing it to Cramer on a silver platter. Despite (or maybe because Cramer seemed so genuinely cowed and held to task) his past omissions and transgressions I would like to see Cramer seriously leveraging his role on CNBC and helping people like you and me make wise investment decisions.
John Stewart all but knighted him as "Official protector of the little Investors". I am curious to see if he does anything with it.

Jer

Wilderisms and a Hunterism or two for posterity

2009-02-09T14:34:00.004-06:00

A while back I compiled a few Wilderisms for posterity. This weekend I thought I would pull together a few more along with a couple Hunterisms, just for the hell of it. These are a few of the things they say or have said in the (fairly recent) past.

it's so easy to forget these and I do keep on forgetting them so without further adieu.

Wilder:

1. Rangular (pron: Rang' you - lar) - def: regular, as in Regular milk, used in differentiating between the (3) types of 'milk' commonly found in our household. Chocolate Soy (defined later), Vanilla soy (also defined later) and Cows Milk, aka Rangular milk.

2. Chokie (pron:Cha-key) - def: Chocolate Soy milk. This is consumed both cold and warm. In its warm form it is an entirely different beverage known as a Swirl. (defined later)

3. Sweet Milk (pron:sweet milk) - def: Sweet milk is vanilla soy, it is ocassionally a component in a swirl, depending on the mood of the barkeep preparing it.

4. Swirl (pron: swee-ri'il) - def: A swirl is a warm concoction made of two parts rangular and or sweet milk mixed with chokie and warmed for 30 seconds in the microwave. best consumed just after dinner. apparently.

5. Gerl (pron: Ge'-ril) - def: This is the gender designate used by Wilder to describe our dog Betty. Usage: " Betty is a goooood gerr'ril.

Hunter:

Hunter does have a few words, and he is using them to excellent effect. Below is a sampling:

1. Mama (pron: Ma-ma (mamamamamama) - def: this typically is used to indicate my wife, Hunters mother is in the room and not holding him. it can also be used to indicate a gnawing hunger, the need for food or general happiness.

2. Papa (pron:PA pa!) - def: as far as I know this is only used to indicate me. He says it when I change his diaper a lot so maybe it means 'poop', or 'stinky' or 'ouch, easy on the diaper rash big-hands' as well. Tough to say for sure.

3. Aht-Aht (pron: At-AT!) def: whats is that? usage: typically he will point and or grasp while exclaiming "at-at!, at-at!"

4. Ah lerb Uuu (pron: Ah - lerb - Uu) def: "I love you." usage: (suspect at best, although I have heard him say it) So far, this one has exclusively been directed at Mamamamamama.

well, that's about all I have for now.

peace and light,

Jer

Pipe down in there!

2009-02-06T17:52:00.003-06:00

I was just wrapping up the install of a desktop in one of our phone rooms and I happened to look out the window.

The sky is this gorgeous shade of slate blue and the sun is setting on yet another day. A day I realized, as I stood there gazing across the city scape and at the same time glimpsing my reflection in the window inches from my nose, that I will never see again.

I spent it in an office, moving pieces of paper and metal around to an effect that no one will care about in six months, let along ten or twenty or a hundred years. Despite being busy, I really did nothing.

A thought struck me (and I don't use that term lightly here) as my eyes wandered over the sunset. Fifty or a hundred years ago, when a man looked back on his life he probably remembered things like, a favored horse or dog, good friends. Perhaps his experience in war and the hell that goes with that. certainly his children and extended family. Laughter and tragedy. You know, the things that he spent his days doing and seeing and immersed in.

What will I think back on (aside from the exploits of my twenties, which frankly are getting blurrier and more faded). The time I imaged 10 workstations at once? The day I figured out why Excel was assploding becuase of a mis formed macro? The sweet ass google search that turned up just the right KB article?

Sheesh...you gotta be kidding me.

It is a very nasty start for me to have my spirit wake up from its enforced coma and look around with eyes wide open and hammer me in the face with a truth, even if just for a moment.

Jer

Music

2009-02-06T11:12:00.003-06:00

I recently came across some cool music and thought I would share. If you know me then you know I have a few eccentricities. I think skurling bagpipes are one of the most glorious sounds on earth. I own two kilts and I covet several others. My closet could probably pass for one (minus the electronics and tee shirts) that may have been seen 500 or even 1000 years ago. (Bastard Sword, Danish war axe(2), Daggers, Knives, vambraces, archery armguards, a Siege warbow, arrows and quiver...I could go on.)
In any event, the music of Heather Alexander is really very cool. She's not well known in the circles I typically move in, but if you dig that Celtic/African/Harvest/troubador sort of music thing, you might like her stuff.

You can download some of her music here: http://www.heatherlands.com/index.php?section=1

Jer

WTF? seriously, did our president say he " screwed up"?

2009-02-04T15:20:00.006-06:00

So I was driving in to work this morning, trying really hard not to call NPR and re-register as a member during this winter pledge drive (K and I are already members and short on fundage for the foreseeable future) cause I REALLY want this damn pledge drive to be over already, when I hear the voice of that new fellah living in the white house say something to the effect of, "I screwed up, I am angry about it and I am going to make it right."

Lots of hyperbole and pithy verbiage leaps to my mind to help describe my state of mind upon hearing that, but the plain-old truth is I was plain-old impressed by his brevity and honesty.

what about the usual players in this game?
no spin.
no he-said she-said.
no idiotic investigatory committee to look into this issue (until the press forgets about it and moves on to the next celebrity fiasco/hilarity/stupidity.)
nuthin to get me all riled up about them damn lying politicians.

as an aside...
John Stewart must be crying in his wheaties. His show no longer writes itself with the Bush and Chaney evil-imbecile-performing-clown-show on permanant hiatus.
any how...

I have gotten so used in the last (two hundred?) eight years to the political spin machines churning out things from arrogantly assuming I am an idiot (as in "we didn't mean the entire war mission was accomplished, we meant that that particular ships crew's mission was accomplished" type bullshit.) To evasive non-answers, lies, half truths (at best) and this 'staying on message' horsecrap. So much so that I was honestly staggered by a direct, simple unevasive assumption of blame followed by a clear expression of frustration and a desire to fix the issue.

Damn.

and for no reason other than I have it on my new Blackberry...I give you a brief clip of our home life...

Gonna learn me a new skill

2009-01-14T13:56:00.011-06:00

Forging

Yeah, I know. It's not the sort of thing that can be easily parlayed into a career, but that's really not the point. It's just something that has always interested me and I ain't getting any younger.

Hell, maybe someday Wilder or Hunter will want to learn somethihg from ol' Papa and other than wtf-pwning! in Wahammer, it might be nice to have a real world skill (or two) to pass along. My l33t skillz in VW Beetle repair likely won't be in high demand by then.

There are a couple of classes I can take here in Dallas. I found one that will (over the course of a three day class) take me through basic metallurgical theory, forging my own tongs (for use as an apprentice) and finally to forging my own knife blade.

how frigging cool is that?

So now I need to register for the class and see whan the next one is offered. Wish me luck!

...and now for some gratuitous pics of

dum dum duuuum!
Hunter!

Recycled from Facebook

2009-01-10T15:14:00.003-06:00

Since one or two of my ten or so regular visitors aren't on Facebook I am shamelessly adding to my post count here by recycling a pure vanity post I made over there.
Without further adieu...16 Random things about me.

1. As a child, my belly button stuck out. I was so self-conscious of this anatomical irrelevancy that I spent most of my youth, in the summer, with a shirt on. At roughly the age of 10, one fine summer day, I pushed my belly button into my stomach as far as I could. It stayed. The angels sang.

2. I am afraid of only two things. Alzheimers and Bears.

3. On my 21st birthday, I went to bed a 7:30 pm in disgust.

4. I have at various times in my life (in no particular order) worked as a fisherman, a model, a plasma flux welder, a barista, a door to door salesman, an IT security specialist, a bouncer, a remodeler, a dock loader, a phone solicitor, a waiter, a line cook, a bartender, a decoy, a seminarian and a personal assistant.

5. Given the opportunity, I would upload to the net.

6. I am completely devastated by the site of a star filled sky.

7. I have a deep and abiding belief that the human race is fundamentally good, well intentioned and capable of muddling its way through just about anything...given enough time to make a lot of mistakes.

8. I do not, as a rule, trust anything that is said, written or emoted by a career politician. It is my lucid belief that Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus epitomized the perfect politician.

9. Although it isn't cool with the peeps I hang with...I really like Bob ~~Segar~~ Seger. oh, and Boston.

10.To me, the sweetest sounds in the world are the sounds of my wife and sons laughing.

11.When I was a boy, I was convinced that I would be an astronaut someday. The day I surpassed the maximum height of 6'4" was one of the saddest days of my youth. It almost ruined for me the fact that my belly button no longer stuck out.

12. As a child, EVERYONE except my paternal grandmother called me Pookie. Since it rhymes with Dookie, and I had gotten pretty tired of that little moniker one fine day I refused to answer to Pookie and in a demonstration of willpower not seen in me since, changed my reality and became little Jerry. As of today, the only person who ocassionally refers to me as Pookie, is my sweet cousin Melocha (and her less sweet sister Renee (heh joke))...and with them, I never minded at all.

13. I hate phones.

14. I am secretly weird and arrogant. really weird. I just hide it well.

15. I can cook a mean ass Adobo. Gryder, if ya want the recipe, it is that meat in a pot you were talking about. Email me and I will send ya the recipe.

16. I am terrified by the realization that the vast majority of life (at the ripe old age of 42) is STILL basically flying by the seat of my pants. I really thought I would have it all figured out by now.

From the 'Well whaddaya know?' file

2008-12-16T15:29:00.003-06:00

Biblical Prohibition on the practice of Christmas Trees...

Jeremiah 10:2-4 appears to prohibit the practice of Christmas Trees.

2: Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them.

3: For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe.

4: They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not.

hmph. well, I guess you really CAN make any point you want if you search for it hard enough. Just goes to show me that I need to quit clicking so freely around on the interwebtubes. I wonder if, technically, it would be okay if you didn't actually bring it IN the house? Or if it was a fake, like a really obvious one?

/chuckle.

peace and love all,

Jer

Birthday 42

2008-12-04T09:39:00.003-06:00

So this is my second big ol' milestone birthday. The first one, as illuminated to me by my uncle mark, on the day in question, was my 34th. The year I outlived Jesus. I thought that was a pretty cool way of looking at that one.

This year, my age became the defacto answer to the questions, " What is the answer to the the meaning of Life, the Universe and Everything?" The long awaited answer (spoiler alert) 42.

yay me.

I was miserable on my 42nd birthday. It was on a Tuesday. I had been sick since the previous Friday evening. The minute (literally) I walked in the door my manager pointed out an oversight I had made in a project a few days before. By the time I left work I was so tired and run down I was having tunnel vision and hearing that weird high pitched sound I usually only hear in empty rooms.

Traffic sucked on the way home.

I got home, parked and walked through the garage to the door that opens into our washroom, and thence to our kitchen. Opened the door.

There before me I saw my beautiful wife and my two adorable sons singing Happy Birthday to me. It made my year.

I love you guys! Thank you for a moment I will never, ever forget.

your happy husband and proud Papa,

Jer

Hunter Video

2008-11-27T15:11:00.003-06:00

this is Hi-Larious!

This Morning

2008-11-27T10:23:00.001-06:00

while we let Momma sleep in...

2008-11-10T15:40:00.003-06:00

Regarding the outright adversarial relationship that the press has with American politicians and politics. You hear a lot of conservative politicians and frankly, quite a few liberal ones as well, lamenting the "bad manner in which the press covers us" or acting with outright hostility toward the press. To that I have one thing to say.

Good.

I WANT the press to be adversarial toward politicians. I NEED them to dig and look for dirt and the 'behind closed doors' crooked wheeling and dealing. I HOPE that if they discover legal indiscretion that they shine a white hot spotlight all over it. the only time I get really concerned it when I see press sucking up to political figures.

The First Amendment to the United States Constitution (remember that quaint old, oft' ignored document) guarantees a right to the freedom of the press, among other things. A free press, is one of our most valuable tools in minimizing corruption and, well frankly a lot of what we have going on now in Washington.

Grotesque abuse and expansion of executive power.
Flagrant human rights violations.
Unlawful search and seizure of US citizens and their property.
Unlawful attacks within the bounds of sovereign nations.
The list goes on and on...

Hopefully our new administration will address some of these issues. Hopefully the press will rediscover that their role is not to kiss political ass, but to shine a light on the dirt and force those in power to make right. Hopefully I won't lose the tiny, Little bit of faith I still have in this countries political machine.

President elect Barack Obama has about 100 days to do something. Anything to make me believe again. After that, the gloves come off.

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

I Voted

2008-11-04T08:40:00.007-06:00

Well both candidates for president have been hawking change like snake oil salesmen for months now. Either way, we will get to see if the Mavrick or the Messenger of Hope actually put their money where their mouth has been. Continuously.

Wilder, Hunter I sure as hell hope one of these two can start to turn all this crap around. If not, I may have to actually make good on my threat and get involved in this political theatre. Heavens forbid.

so there it is.

peace all,
Jer

So long dignity, I hardly knew ye...

2008-10-31T16:05:00.003-05:00

At work today we had a seasonal-themed, work appropriate dress up sort of thingy. I wanted to do something that would allow me, if necessary to easily get out of costume if no one else participated. So I threw together a few bits and pieces from my eclectic (to say the least) closet and Kris splurged a buck ninety-nine for some glasses and voila.
You get this.
be gentle.

I hereby dedicate this post to a big ol' HAPPY Birthday Melocha as well! I hope you have an awesome day! love you cousin!

- Jer

Effigy, California, Palin, McCain who cares.

2008-10-30T13:05:00.002-05:00

So some Halloween go getters have hung an effigy of Palin from a tree in their front yard along with one of McCain in hellfire.

so what.

Honestly, I think there has always been a small minority who would have a hysterical reaction to silly crap like this but with the advent of Carl Rove and his draconian divisive politics (which seem to be here to stay) and the instant potential for publicity that is the interwebtubes, it has gotten ridicuculous.

The neighborhood nimrod now has a potential forum of millions and with right wing (and left wing) pundits literally combing the net for ANYTHING to disparage the enemy, dumb-ass shit like this gets hyper inflated and suddenly you have red-faced jackasses all over the country pumping their puny little impotent fists in the air over the outrage.

To answer the unasked question, yes, if it was an effigy of Barack Obama and or Joe Biden hanging in a tree I would be just as unimpressed.

to quote Greg brown,
" The scariest thing I seen
Is the death of Halloween"

and the apparent death of the American sense of humour.

Naked in Downtown Nashville

2008-10-27T10:09:00.005-05:00

**Not Jack. For you young types, that's someone else's dangerous friend, John Belushi.

As a younger man I was one half of one of the most dangerous kinds of friendships imaginable. I don't mean we were killers, or drug heads or some sort of gun runners. No. We were the sort of friends who when we had been drinking (usually to excess) If either of us were to suggest a potential hilarious or life threatening escapade, the other would never say no.

Think about that for a minute.

No. matter. what. neither. of. us. ever. said. no.

I can't use his name because he has found Jesus and is a God fearin' stand-up father with a wonderful wife who in all likelihood would be horrified to discover the depths of his depravity as a youth. I won't say his name 'cause I don't want to answer my door in a week or two and be greeted by a baseball to the face. So we'll call him Jack. (it's almost Halloween after all and I got it on my mind) One night Jack and I had been drinking and hanging out in downtown Nashville. We had been to a bar called Ambers to hear a singer named Tall-Jim or Long-Paul or some such. There is no way to recollect how much we had sipped that evening but if memory fails me correctly, it was a good bit.
We had met a couple of girls and were riding around with them in the back seat. Most likely Jack and I were loud, drunk and obnoxiously irritating. In retrospect, I'm pretty sure they had been trying to figure out a way to ditch us for quite some time prior to the event I am about to relate.

We were tooling around some part of downtown that had a fountain and a large central square. I don't know exactly where we were but at the time Jack and I thought it was the capitol building. It seemed like a perfectly good idea to strip down and go swimming. One proposed...the other agreed.

so we did.

Jack almost brained himself getting into the fountain, he leapt over the lip and slipped on the stone bottom. Seeing this, I took a slightly more safe, if less decorous approach (anyone who has watched a nude man from behind climb over a wall (or who can imagine it) gets my meaning. We frolicked in the water for a bit in a slightly hilarious and thoroughly drunken manner until one of us noticed that one of the paving stones was loose. One proposed...the other agreed.

we prised it up and hoisted it out of the fountain and proceeded to streak down the road, in downtown Nashville with a chunk of fountain between us.

The two girls we had been squiring about town wisely decided that discretion was the better part of valour and abandoned us. yeah, our clothes were in their car. We had our boxer shorts and I (for some reason) had a credit card stuck in the band of my underwear.
I think the girls must have come back around eventually and given us our clothes. (slung them out the window along with imprecations as to our insanity no doubt) I don't remember it for sure, but I know we had them the next day. I think.

We ditched the paving stone and made our cold, drunken and ridiculous way to the nearest Hotel. The cleaning lady refused to open the door for two drunk, 95% naked men, even when I waved my credit card wildly and Jack yelled obscenities. Go figure.

The next Hotel door was unlocked and so we gained entrance before they could lock us out. The night manager was extremely dubious, but he took my card and we stumped up the stairs, wet clothes all in a ball.

Hot shower and warm bed.

The next morning I had to call the one person I could trust not to rat us out. the one person who wouldn't judge us too harshly. the one person who owed me big when it came to drunken rescues. I guess given that little statement I can't give her name out either.
Lets call her Flea. Flea laughed the entire time we were on the phone and was still laughing when she got to the hotel to pick us up. Likely at both the ridiculousness of the situation and our appearance. Our clothes were still wet. We didn't have a comb or tooth brush (so we looked like maniacs or retards or both) and we were obviously, painfully, pukingly hung over.

That's about it. Jack and I did some other idiotic things in our career as Compadres de Alchhol but that is the one that stands out the most.
(and given the holes in this memory, that's probably a good thing.)

and Wilder or Hunter if you ever read this...please, for the love of all, learn from my mistakes. Don't emulate idiocy.

:) peace and love,
Jer

Warning - Politics

2008-10-13T12:46:00.003-05:00

This picture has nothing to do with most of this post.
:)

This decade is turning out to be pretty interesting. I mean interesting in the same way as does the ancient Chinese curse. " May you live in interesting times." Oh sure, their a lot of fun to talk about two generations after the fact but for the poor bastards living through them they sure as hell aren't a lot of fun.
So hows the score card look for the last 10 years or so.

We have gone from only an overly large and intrusive federal government to an obscene and obesely bloated nightmare of personal liberty violating, never before imagined deficit, president-who-ought-to-be-impeached perversity.

We have gone from having the best funded and most advanced military in the world to having a military budget that is virtually the equal to the rest of the entire world. Combined.

We have gone from a president who was wont to cheat on his wife to one who, while ostensibly loyal to his marriage vows, is happy to betray the trust of the rest of the country and lie, spy and willfully ignore his oath to uphold the constitution. Leaving aside all the signing statements abuses, torture advocating and politicizing of the justice department. Just to name a few.

In foreign policy we have gone from somewhat admired to openly ridiculed, not as oppressors but more as willful bullies who feel it is fine for us to attack sovereign nations, build up hostile regimes who support our interests, depose elected leaders and attack rampantly into the borders of other nations. If it suits our mood.

I could go on, but its just aggravating me and damn it, this is my favorite time of the year! It's autumn. The trees are starting to change colors, the air is cool and crisp in the morning. My boys are both happy and healthy and my beautiful wife is as smart, funny and sexy as the day I met her.

I promise next post will be soon and not so gripey.

love and peace,
Jer

WAR!

2008-08-21T16:35:00.003-05:00

new Warhammer trailer
http://mythicmktg.fileburst.com/war/us/home/flash/WAR_cinematic_08.html

I have been playing in the closed beta and now that the NDA is lifted I can blab to my hearts content about the game. I haven't really done a lot, played a White Lion to 10 and smattered around with a few other classes. I am really diggin' the Dwarf Engineer as well. (you can see one in the demo. It's the shotish fellow with the biggish gun and the gatling turret next to him. If ya watch closely you will see him swiggin' a beer just before the Greater Deamon of Tzeenetch crawls through the gates.
Good stuff.
Anywho, check out the trailer and see what you think!

Jer

The Filter

2008-08-13T15:35:00.005-05:00

Over the course of the past few weeks I noticed that the tornado-of-doom like whirl pool suction in the heart of my pool skimmer had become the pathetic swirl-of-sadness and so it was with a heavy heart that I cracked open the Tome of Aquatic Knowledge (my pool filter INSTALLERS manual) and aquainted myself with the alchemical arcana that is cleaning a pool cartridge filter.

It's not really all that complex, you basically:
1. turn off the pump. (duh)
2. release the pressure in the filter cannister. (no deathy-asplody for me. I'll explain later.)
3. drain out the residual water.(can you say MUD, woot!)
4. unscrew and remove the metal belly belt that keeps the cannister intact. (slowly so as not to be cut in half. Again, I'll explain this later)
5. remove the (4) cartridges. (big, heavy, nasty and bug-gut encrusted)
6. hose them muthers out. (spatter self with aforementioned nastiness.)

The process was pretty straightforward and I completed it without killing myself. The only reason I cite said fear of impending death was because in the installers manual there were two strange and unexplained graphics. The first one featured a man having his head blown off while releasing the pressure from the cannister. No explanation forthcoming as to how to avoid this fate. Just the picture. The second was of a man being whip-sawed in half by the metal belly-belt. Again, no explanation as to how to defend oneself from the (apparent) Dragon who lived inside the cannister. Just the graphic.
odd.

Peace and love,
Jer

The day I saved my Bosuns Life

2008-08-01T11:23:00.007-05:00

It was a cold, grey, nasty uncomfortable morning. I had a cold. I was coming on shift so it had to be around 6 or 7 am out in the middle of the godforsaken Bering sea.

Yeah, this is another sea story.

The seas were high. Probably ten to 16 foot swells and the captain was doing his best (I assume) to keep us from too much chop. The deck crew on shift change typically has a lot of stuff to clean up, organize and generally get ready for the day. On Deck, with swells that high, it is Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) to have a 'safety line' attached. This 'safety line' concept translates roughly to a fifteen foot rope eye hooked to a belt loop. Not exactly a laymans concept of safe. Most of the old guys don't wear one and eventually the new guys either due to peer pressure or expediency stop with it as well. It is a major pain in the ass when you trying to repair a net or hose down the deck and clean off all the fish guts and jelly fish to have a line attached to your butt.

Allan was hosing down the deck, so the sea doors (the two huge steel gates at the rear of the ship which are 'normally' closed for safety and 'normally' only open during a haul back of fish) were wide open. That is to say, Down making a perfect ramp directly into the cold, cold, sea. Right on top of the propellers. The screws. The big-cutty-death-spinners. You get the picture.

I was wearing a safety line. Osbjorn and Allan were not.

To this day I don't know exactly what the Captain did to cause it, but as I see it in my minds eye he turned the ship into a trough between two huge swells. Likely he was reorienting us for a run at a school of Pollack. In any event, the ship pivoted and a rogue wave (the real deal) moving through the trough hit us from behind, washed over the deck, washed over the top castle, and washed over the bow. That is the clinical version of what the water did. This was my perspective.

Osbjorn was looking out to sea to the Port side. Allan was about two steps forward of Osbjorn hosing happily away at some gross crap on the deck. I felt the ship turn and as I did I swiveled my head to the stern. I saw a huge, black wall of water at least two to three stories high moving toward us at a terrifying clip. I started to yell and remembered that Allan and that old bastard Osbjorn did NOT have safety lines. I shot my right hand to the forward bulk head and grabbed the rail (remember, my so called safety line was attached to my frikkin belt loop. Not a lot of strength in that) My left hand I rammed down the back of Osbjorns pants as far as I could ( I have no idea what went through his mind at this moment, and I probably don't want to know.) and grabbed a huge handful of cotton pant material and pocket. As I was feeling up my aged Bosun's skinny Norwegian ass I yelled WAVE! The wave closed over us and as I was squeezing my eyes shut and taking a huge lungful of air, I saw Osbjorn grabbing Allan by the safety vest with BOTH hands.

Think about that. This man who I thought hated be had just placed his entire life in my hand. Singular. One Hand.

The next thirty seconds or so were a rush (literally) of ice cold water, noisy banging and me doing everything in my power to not lose Osbjorns pants or my hold on the rail. and him, osbjorn that is. and by distant proxy, Allan.

Finally it was over, the deck was awash in three feet of water, the Captain was spinning the boat like a madman to get is perpendicular to the waves. I was soaked to the bone, as cold as the seventh circle of hell. My hands were cramping and one of them was down a mans pants. I was terrified and happy to be alive all at the same time. And Osbjorn? Osbjon was pissed off at, as far as I could tell, Thor. He looked (not at me) but up into the sky and shaking his knotty old fist bellowed something that sounded like...

"ORFFIN BJORGEDEN ARRGUFFEN THORBARDIN YOU BASTARD!"

We went below, changed out clothes, told the story to a few folks who would listen. After that Osbjorn never thumped, pushed or had a rough word with me again. He never said thank you, mind you. But he did invite me to play some gambling game with him (which I never figured out the rules to) in the galley a few times. I guess I had passed the test. I wasn't a total screw up. I had moved quickly enough to make a difference and managed to hang on till the wave passed. In his worldview, that meant something. Likely something I will never really understand.

eh, it was a beginning.

J

The day I Fit the Description

2008-07-09T14:13:00.005-05:00

The names have been preserved to protect the hilarity...

This story is years after the previous post. I plan to jump around a bit and write 'em as if I was some kooky old drunk in a bar, pushing 70 years old and you, the reader, were some poor shlub who happened to catch my eye for a second. Woe to you.

Denver Colorado circa 1996

I had been living with my friend Rob for a few months because my live-in girlfriend had run off with a lady friend of her own. I was sleeping on his couch and I may have been throwing him a few bucks a month for rent. I don't remember for sure. Every day we worked at Starbucks (two diifferent ones) he worked at the big Cherry Creek store and I was at the Amoco building store downtown. Every night we went and got relatively-to-seriously (depending on our mood and the generosity of the bar) drunk at the Roo Bar. This night happened to be one during which we drank slowly but steadily till well past closing. We helped the paid employees clean up (we considered ourselves honorary bouncers) and headed out to my Datsun B210.

Later that summer we would drive it off a 12 foot drop off and roll it over in a park, resulting in broken arms and hilarity all around...but that is a different story.

We headed home. On the way, Rob or I decided we needed to stop and get a frozen pizza so we pulled into a Quick-Stop (or some such) and headed inside. A little backstory, now a couple of weeks earlier I had lost my drivers liscense and this market was a common stop on the way home for Rob and I. I asked the counter minder (a scrawny, suspicious looking middle eastern dude) if he had found my licenses and he said, after a bit of equivocating "no". He was acting a bit odd. He kept shifting from foot to foot. Looking all squinty eyed at Rob and myself. Suddenly he turned around and went into the back leaving us alone in the store. Odd to say the least but I sorta shrugged and turned around to head for the coke racks. Rob grabbed a pizza, I got a 2 liter of sprite and we both picked up a single Reeses Pieces chocolate and peanut butter candy. This is important. We both had one.

one apiece.

We paid for our food and drinks and Reeses Pieces and headed toward the door. As I pushed open the door I glanced right toward my good pal Rob. Rob was unwrapping and eating HIS Reeses piece. As I proceeded through the door I turned my eyes forward and proceeded to become " The Most Cooperative Person in the World". At least five squad cars (maybe more) with two policemen each all with weapons drawn (and pointed at yours truely) including two with assault shotguns all turned on their lights simultaneously and ordered Rob and I to halt and drop what was in our hands.

Shit hit the ground as fast as gravity could move it.

Policeman on loudspeaker "On Your Knees"

Us : Knees, meet pavement.

Policeman on loudspeaker: " hand on your heads"

Us: I think I heard a sonic boom as my hands whipped to my head..

Policeman on loudspeaker "Do not move"

I am pretty sure at that moment I stopped my heart, just to be sure I was in compliance. Rob whispered out of the corner of his mouth..." what did you do?" Incredulously I said" what did I do? What did you do?" (Rob had a couple of outstanding warrents, you know, he was the slightly tinged seed of our little twosome)

Policeman on loudspeaker " Be Quiet!"

Us: we shut the hell up.

The police didn't tell us why were were there. One proceeded to go thorough my car while another asked us a series of questions. Who are you? Where have you been tonight? Can anyone corroborate this story about drinking all night in a bar.

blinkblink

Dude, we told 16 cops we had been boozing ALL NIGHT in a bar. THAT was a better story than what we were up against at this moment. Think about that.

The cop who was going through my car asked me if there was anything he should know about the contents before he went through them. I proceeded to detail, in excruciating and terrified detail every, single last item in the car from the little note book I wrote my gas mileage in to the blue ink pen that doesn't work but the black one does but it leaks be careful. To the shit under the tire in the trunk, under a mat pad, under an old dog blanket. I mean I probably babbled on for a good ten minutes. Finally I heard chuckles coming from inside my car and from several of the other officers. I shut the hell up.

Roughly half an hour later a police cruiser pulled up with and stopped directly in front of Rob and I (still kneeling on the ground) with it's lights on bright. I could just barely see two people in the front seat and a third centered in the back. The person in the middle, shook their head as if to say no.

Everything changed.

The officers came over and took off our handcuffs and helped us to our feet. All the while explaining that there had been a robbery earlier in the evening. Tow men, one tall with long hair, the other bald had been done it. We fit the description. They took Rob's handcuffs off first and the very first thing he did (as if it was premeditated) was to walk over to my car. Pick up MY Reeses Piece. and eat it.

J

Boggle.

2008-07-09T13:58:00.002-05:00

CNN ran this story yesterday. In essence a bipartisan committee of elected officials ALL of whom have taken a solemn oath to uphold, respect and defend the Constitution of the United States have determined that the flagrantly unconstitutional 'War Powers Resolution of 1973' might need to be revisited.
you think?

I don't know, its spelled out pretty damn clearly in the Constitution that only one branch of our government has the power to declare war and it sure as hell isn't the President. I'll grant you that he is the Commander in Chief but do we see American generals and or admirals around the world flitting about willy nilly attacking other countries because their elected leaders don't appeal to their particular sensibilities.
no. we don't.
The President should have no more authority to act preemptive against a sovereign nation than any other of the highest ranking members of the armed forces. Period.
Over and over again I hear that it is necessary for the president to move quickly and he must have the authority to do so. say in the case that Osama Bin laden were spotted by a sniper drone. That is not the same thing as bombing a country. That is decisive action against an individual the US has declared persona non gratia. Totally different. If there is a need for the US to go to war, and I think this is ridiculous, at the drop of a hat there is certainly time for the president to call a committee of the highest ranking members of Congress and have them move forward with legislation for a vote. I mean, seriously, what else are our legislators doing this week?
Oh yeah, last minute, past the deadline ~~grandstanding~~ voting on medicare.

just my opinion,
Jer

The day I didn't kill my Bosun

2008-07-01T16:28:00.006-05:00

My Pal Lee flattered me with the idea the other day that some of my 'life moments' might make for an entertaining read. I thought about it, asked Kris what she thought and with her encouragement as well, have decided that from time to time I will try and record for posterity (and vanity) a few of the more interesting moments in my life.

As you may or may not know, I did a stint as a commercial fisherman in my twenties. I don't really hail from a maritime tradition so my choice to do this was a bit of a mystery to my family at the time. For the most part, I decided to go to sea for a few specific reasons. Firstly, I had read somewhere that 'at some point in their life all men should go to sea'. There was, as I recall, a poetic and well reasoned argument for this action but I no longer remember what it was. Secondly, I really loved the hell out of Seattle (where I was living at the time) and the little tribe I was living with at the time had gotten tired of the perpetual drizzle and clouds and wanted to head south to sunny San Diego. I didn't want to move. Truth to tell, I was a bit tired of my girlfriend at the time, sick of another specific roomates bullshit and tired of living with my little clan and I saw this move as an opportunity out.

I had recently received a call from an old highschool girl-who-was-a-friend who happened to be a very cool chick. She asked if I could hook her ex up with a place to stay till he got on his feet in Seattle. I told her I would be happy to do it and that's how I met Alan. It took about 5 minutes for me to realize he was a very cool guy and in all likelihood would be a great friend, which turned out to be true. I gave him a house key, found out he planned to get a job as a fisherman out of a combination of curiosity and adventure and made a snap decision. I would do it too.

Blah blah, went to the waterfront, rah rah, found a fishing company, blah blah personality tests, physical strength tests, yadda yadda fireman/mustang suit training and orientation. Two weeks later we were steaming out of the port of Seattle and headed for Dutch Harbour.

Then came the music of the open seas. Puking. All of the newbs (except for myself) spent the next week or so horking up their toenails. I have no idea why I didn't. I did have one odd experience that may have accounted for it. As the ship formally departed the Puget sound I was berthed in the most forward rack possible on the ship. My rack was literally 6 feet from the bow of the ship and on the level just below the deck. seriously, my ceiling WAS the deck. As we entered the open sea there was a...change...in the character of the ships behavior. If you have never been to sea on a fishing ship you may not know what I am talking about. The Puget sound is relatively calm compared to the open ocean. That is to say the swells are gentle and a 265 foot ship pretty much moves through the waves. As you enter the open sea, the swells are more vigorous. They are closer to ten feet in height and the ship has to navigate over and through the waves.

up and down.

up and down.
left and right.

right and left.

I was lying in my rack reading when we crossed this invisible but very tangible dividing line. I suddenly found myself levitating about four inches above my rack as the ship moved down and then was pressed about six inches into the pad of my bed as we went back up. It was lovely, kind of like a ride at the amusement park. For a split second I thought I might get queasy, but I never did. I decided I liked the motion and drifted off to sleep. I awoke to horror. All of my room mates were puking into buckets, bags and whatever bowls they could scrounge up. The smell was horrific. I had to leave the room and sought refuge in the galley pretty much for the next four days. it was here that I befriended gail, the cook. But thats's another story.

Honestly, it only took about a week for most everyone to get their sea legs. (except for one poor Russian bastard, and that too is another story. It is a story about one seriously tough dude.) My buddy Alan was up and about within three days. An exclusive diet of apples supplied by me was what, in my opinion, did the trick. He and I spent the next week bustin' our asses laying a new deck in the freezer hold. Think, gymnasium floor done in early colonial plywood with one rusty, bent sawzall, in the dark by two dipwads with no carpentry experience whatsoever and you get an idea. The reason we worked so hard was that there was a single Combi position available and the Bosuns would pick some lucky Processor (which is what we were) to be promoted to semi deckhand-semi processor, aka Combi. This not only meant more money, but it was also a chance to work up on deck in the open air.Also, as a bonus technically you had more rank than a processor or even a shift supervisor. Two days before we reached Dutch Harbour the sea gods saw fit to shine their light upon us both. One of the experienced Combi's broke his finger 'wresting' with his girlfriend. I didn't ask and he didn't tell. He was skiffed off ship for a quick trip home and Alan and I were both promoted to Combi.

The stage is set.

My primary Bosun was this tough, mean, old, half-toothless bastard from Norway named Osbjorn. I hated him because I couldn't understand norwegian and he liked to shove and punch me when I moved too slow. He hated me cause I was young, good looking, not norwegian and and smarter than him. At least, that's how I salvaged my dignity when ever he was busy kicking my dumb ass into the proper place to stand (so I wouldn't get killed) or showing me where all the lethal things that could, mangle, brain, crush or de-hair me (I had long hair at the time and long haired fisherman who don't watch where their hair is slinging often get their scalps ripped off by gilson winches, net pullys, other fishermen...you get the idea.) He had been busily educating me on how to manually heave a 50 inch 'suitcase' winch when he turned his back on me and faced the open sea, sans a safety rope and in the portside lazarette. Which had no rail.

This was what went through my mind. I do feel compelled to add that this was and still is the only time I have ever absolutely seriously, considered killing another human being.

" If I push him, he will go into the water. The water today is 44 degrees. Normal people would die in that water in minutes. I would die in 45 minutes even in a survival suit. I know he will not die, though. He is a damn Norwegian. This old bastard will swim around to the back of the ship, climb up the screws and kick my ass.

Damn.

Not only did I not kill him that day. Later on that trip, I saved his life. But that as well is a different story.

peace all,
Jer

Campaign for Liberty

2008-06-26T16:50:00.004-05:00

Ron Pauls inspired Campaign for Liberty has gone live. Swing by if you have a few minutes and see what the constitutionalists have cookin'.
smaller government (waaay smaller)
no income tax (:) woot a 30% pay raise for me!)
non interventionist foreign policy (no kill-y the brown peoples)
trade with all nations (yes, even Iran)
sound fiscal policy (no spend-y more than you got-y)
an end to the federal department of education (broke, broked and brokerst)
impeaching pres bush (ok, I made that one up but a man can dream, right?)

Or don't swing by. Its your right to chose what you read and believe.
for now.

peace and all,
Jer

ps click the title of the post for linky to site-y.

Offshore Oil

2008-06-18T16:51:00.002-05:00

So it looks like president Bush is calling for a lift on his fathers moratorium for offshore oil exploration.

yay.

It will take a minimum of 10 years for the increased supply to have an effect on the price of oil. Demand around the world will do nothing but continue to increase over the course of that time resulting in higher and higher costs. I personally can't wait to walk along a tar sand beach with my sons, you know, after the inevitable spill. (The US government recently calculated there was a 33-51% chance of a major spill in the lifetime of an offshore oil rig) I'm sure no one in 'Big Oil' will make any profits from this totally altruistic move to ruin our beaches, irrevocably damage marine ecosystems and uglify our beaches. Really.

Here is a counter proposal.
repeal the oil royalty relief laws and put that 9 billion into hydrogen infrastructure and solar cell research technologies. Repeal the retarded 9 billion in corn 'fuel' subsidies and do the same with those funds. Cut coal , natural gas and oil welfare to the bone and subsidize only those oil companies that are too small to effectively compete with the big boys. Toss that 25 odd billion into the pot and see what we can come up with to cease bankrolling Saudi Princes sold gold frikkin toilet seats and High Roller Vegas trips.

peace all,
Jer

More opinion the Constitutionality of

2008-06-16T09:34:00.003-05:00

I believe that the US constitution is the framework by which the citizens of the United States should conduct themselves regardless of nationality. To paraphrase - "We hold these truths to be self evident. That all men are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain unaliable rights. Among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of hapiness."

It strikes me that if this is what the constitution states, and if we still support the spirit of this declaration then we are obliged to treat all people, at minumum, with these basic personal liberties. President Bush has assumed for himself the power to strip all three of these basic rights, to hold indefinately without due process persons whom he deems terrorists. That is the least American concept I can imagine. Sounds more like soviet era KBG crap to me and I am very happy to see a modest reversal in American politics against this police state mentality.

I have heard a few conservative pundits commenting on how dangerous it is for the Judicial branch to be injecting itself into the conducting of a war. My opinion as to that position is pretty simple. Just because they call this a 'War' on terror doesn't make it one. Regardless of the rhetoric this is a civil police action. No soverign nation has declared war on the US. These are private citizens conducting illegal (and that is the important word, illegal) actions against US citizens and interests. As such our courts should be trying, convicting and if warranted executing these criminals.

dammit. Now I have to go read the actual transcripts at http://www.supremecourtus.gov/

/grumble grumble. My buddy Dan all makin' me actually do a litle research before I go shootin' off my mouth. I'll read the transcripts and prolly have to write a full retraction and apologise to my buddy later this week.

;)

Peace all,

Jer

a little sanity. finally.

2008-06-12T15:55:00.008-05:00

The US Supreme court today has finally stood up, checked their collective balls and thumbed president Bush firmly in the eye. It's about time.

From NPR

" Supreme Court: Terrorism Suspect Have Rights
The Supreme Court ruled Thursday that foreign terrorism suspects held at Guantanamo Bay are protected by the Constitution and can appeal their detention in U.S. civilian courts.
The 5-4 decision, with the court's liberal justices in the majority, overturns a Bush administration law pushed through Congress in 2006 that denied habeas corpus rights to terrorism suspects.
Justice Anthony Kennedy, writing for the court, said, "The laws and Constitution are designed to survive, and remain in force, in extraordinary times."
The court also said the system in use for classifying prisoners as "enemy combatants" -- a label that in the past has been a near guarantee that an inmate would be confined long term -- was inadequate."

As expected Bush has reacted to this news by declaring that new laws may be necessary to ~~cover his deceptions~~ protect the American people.
LOLz, he still thinks he matters.

From NPR

"Speaking in Italy on Thursday, President Bush said he strongly disagreed with the decision, suggesting that new legislation may be needed to keep the American people safe."We'll abide by the court's decision," Bush said during a news conference in Rome. "That doesn't mean I have to agree with it."

If he means what he usually means when he said this, please, allow me to translate.
" I don't understand big words like Constitution and extraordinary but hear me now, I will do as I damn well please as long as I can keep the American people in the dark. If I git caught I will lie, deny and conveniently forget. Habeus Corpus sounds like a furriner word to me. Must be a terrerist word."

The simple fact that this law was ever passed in the first place, to me, is indicative of a serious problem in the United States Congress.

a quote by Thomas Jefferson
I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to this attending too small a degree of it.
peace all,
Jer

a few of my favorite things

2008-06-10T16:18:00.002-05:00

kisses from my wife.
the slight weight of my slumbering son as he gently drools across my shoulder.
tiny little breaths, puffed into my neck as my sons breath sleeping in the perfect trust that I will never drop them.
holding my wifes hand.
Wilders laugh.
Hunters enormous, spontaneous toothless grin.
for that matter, come to think of it, my wifes laugh as well.
arriving home.
a good highland scotch
saturday
sunday

Cap and Trade or WTF?

2008-06-04T10:18:00.004-05:00

This horseshit that the US Senate is debating this week for no particular reason (except apparently to blow a bit MORE C02 into the atmosphere) will generate almost 7 trillion bucks for the gub'mint from industry (which is to say you and me, you know, 'us' since industry will just pass this cost along). over the next decade.

It won't substantively change the overall C02 content of the atmosphere since we aren't also capping and trading India and China's emissions. It will not pass a vote because it only has about 40 total proponents. According to President Bush, it will be vetoed, if by some miracle it can skate by and ever actually arrive at his desk. The fundamental science behind C02 and global warming is (despite Gores environmental 'organ grinder of doom' bull-puckey') hotly debated in the scientific community and yet, there they are busily wasting time and working feverishly to appear to be working.

Does anyone else see this as nothing but a replay of the theatre of misdirection that was the congress that enacted the Internal Revenue wage tax in 1939? The American people were told then, that only the rich would be paying these taxes and that if enacted, Tariffs would be relaxed therby giving the middle class a tax break. However, quite predictably, as soon as the ink was dry tax rates went up, the poor and the middle class were soon required to pay the haves got more and the have nots died. Oh yeah, then the wealthy started buying accountants to hide, protect and obsfucate ther money so they could stop paying their share. (You think it's an accident that Warren Buffet can and does pay a lower percentage tax rate than his personal assistant? Riiiiiiiight.)

Sound familiar?

Give this a listen then, tell me what ya think. Cap and Trade will only apply to industry. Industry won't pass that cost along to consumers, right? Industry loves the middle class. There is no way individuals or households will ever be required to purchase these credits if they exceed usage?

Bullshit.

This is nothing but our political elite bending us over in an attempt to get a new revenue stream. To bloat the Government even more and mind you, once they get a taste of the money thay only want more, more more. In a time with all time record cost for petroluem, a staggering economic divide between the rich and all the rest of us and soaring food costs they want to hammer us just a little bit harder.

My Plan for making peace, joy and love in the US.

Disband the IRS.
Restrict the Congress to power actually granted by our constitution.
Quit screwing around with other countries.
No to Cap and Trade taxes.

I'm not really asking for much, seriously. I just want to be able to keep the money I earn. (IRS = theft) I want to donate to charities of my own choosing and (smaller federal government, please!) protect my sons from being forced to fight in an old cowards war.(don't kid yourself the draft is inevitable if we keep up this interventionist policy)

not sure where this post went. I guess it's a bit of a rant. Peace and light all,

J

ps. and yeah. that picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post. ;) I just liked it.

Politics

2008-05-28T09:53:00.004-05:00

I gots me a few minutes and I have a few (very) random thoughts.

I am working myself into a froth over all the stupidity I keep hearing and seeing in the Theatre of the Retarded we call American Politics. McCain is muttering about never surrender in Iraq (don't even get me started on unnecessary and illegal wars orchestrated to line the pockets of Big Oil and Haliburton), Bush in a plea to the prince of Saudi Arabia to pump more oil to help reduce cost demonstrated his incontrovertable stupidity by threatning that " If you don't pump more oil it will push 'merica towards alternative fuels even faster"

/boggle.

No seriously, he said that shit out loud. Seriously.

Senator Clinton is STILL in the race. Obama is already campaigning against McCain and my boy Ron Paul is still saying way too many intelligent, well considered and anti establishment things to ever be considered for President of the United States.

rah rah!

China stuff..Warning 'emotions and stuff'

2008-05-15T14:02:00.003-05:00

Like most people in the world I have been accidentally following the tragic consequences of the earthquake in Sichuan province in China. I say 'accidentally' because its all over the television, radio and internet news and is pretty much unavoidable. I had been listening with the same attitude that I normally do. Sort of a distant, vague feeling of unease and the detached empathy of a man sitting thousands of miles away from a tragedy. I don't mean that I am unfeeling nor that I don't realize the horror of what was befalling families in China I was just very wrapped up in my little life. You know;
What's for dinner?
Is my son Wilder ever going to quit crapping his pants and lose discover the joy of free whizzing in the toilet ?
Did I remember to peel the remnants of freezer paper off the back of that steak before I refroze it yesterday.

You get the picture.

Yesterday I was driving home from the grocery store and NPR was on my car radio, as is its wont. The reporter was descriibg a scene and it was one that managed to completely and utterly shock me (and I don't use that term lightly) out of my vague empathy and to paint in painful clarity the enormity of what is happening (right now) in China, across my heart. A small boy had just been pulled from the wreckage of a middle school. I have no idea how old he was, what he looked like, how tall he was, if he was a kindly boy or if he was a bully.

What I do know is that he was dead.

I know he was totally, irrevocable and forever dead from the sound of his fathers voice when he took his sons body in his arms; on the air, live, thousands of miles away. The mother was crying out in Chinese (so I couldn't understand the words) and the translator said she was asking the rescuer if he had called out to the boy, perhaps he had only fainted.

Over and over she was asking this.

It was, however, the pain, anguish and absolute desolation in his fathers sobs that forced me to pull into a side street until I could compose myself.
I have never heard a man make a sound like that. I hope and prayed then and continue to do so now that I never have reason to make that sound. I don't think I could survive it and I don't see how he did.

I don't really have a grand ending to this. I'm not looking for a deeper meaning. I just really never want to be that man.
ever.

Peace to him,
Jer

Idiotic mediocre-standing

2008-04-30T16:57:00.003-05:00

I can't even bring myself to call it grandstanding becuase it is so milquetoast, mediocre and simperingly pandering. John McCain and Hillary Clinton are proposing that we repeal the federal gasoline tax for a few months to give middle America a break on the cost of gasoline.

Seriously?

A big ol' .18 cent per gallon break? Oh, be still my flippin heart.
Barak Obama rightly has commented that not only is he against this silly shit, but that it amounts to nothing but a political stunt. The only way we will get the cost of gasoline to decline is to reduce demand. Period.
I filled up the tank in my car last week to the tune of $72.36 cents and I read today that several energy analysts are predicting that gasoline could be $10.00 a gallon by the end of the summer. Yeah.
Europeans are currently paying $9.00 US + a $2.00 US tax and if my remedial maths serve me still thats a big ol $11.00 smackeroos per gallon. So before we all start pooh poohing the chance that "gas could evar costs THAT much in good ol 'Merica", we might want to think again.

Outta be an interesting summer.

light and love,
Jer

Ubuntu

2008-04-28T16:05:00.002-05:00

Woot!
The new Ubuntu is out! The new Ubuntu is out! The new Ubuntu is out!

Looks like the enewest version has the following features/upgardes:
Long Term Support (LTS) release;[73][74]; Better Tango compliance[75]; Compiz usability improvements; Tracker integration[76]; Brasero disk burner, Transmission BitTorrent client and Vinagre VNC client by default[77]; PulseAudio by default[78], integration of Rt2x00 wireless drivers[79], automatic grabbing and releasing of the mouse cursor when running on a VMware virtual machine; Wubi installer included into the disk.

woot!

It was a massacre!

2008-04-21T11:09:00.002-05:00

I don't know how to describe it, except to say it was a hell of a fight and there were no survivors.

First the cars all started crashing into one another on lower express way 1A. I can only assume that people were driving way to fast and someone just plain lost control. Maybe there was an earthquake as well, it was just all so damn chaotic and I can't be sure of what I saw or felt. Then, just to add insult to the massive injury, the train derailed and headed down Central Tunnel Express. It plowed mercilessly into the mass of cars that had piled up on lower expressway 1A and I can only imagine the loss of life that that caused.
It was at this point, that all hell broke loose. A herd of African safari animals began to charge across Lower Expressway 1A from Upper Express Way 1B, heedless of the carnage they were both experiencing and causing. I personally saw a gazell kill and eat a leopard. I know it sounds insane, but that same gazelle then mounted an elephant, had its way with the hapless beast, and moved on to die horribly in an attack by a huge lion who had been skulking near the Left Side Roundabout.

Believe it or not, this is where it got really weird.

No sooner had the elephant, recovered from his (or her) unspeakable ordeal of interspecies savagery than a Brachiosaurs thundered out of nowhere and put an end to all of the insanity by killing and stomping flat all remaining survivors.
Except me. Only I survived to tell the tale and I will never be the same.

Peace all,
Jer

(Wilder and I had fun playing with his Train table, cars and safari animals in the sun room.)

Just a daily update

2008-04-08T08:17:00.006-05:00

Not a lot going on this week. I have returned to work and am slowly sinking back into that god-aweful rut that I have carved for myself over the last ten years.

sigh.

you know something? I really hate this feeling. Over the past couple of weeks with my wife and sons I had to live life, pretty much, in the moment.

and I liked it.

I imagine (in my suburban, modern and somewhat overly romantic imagination) that it has been closer to what life was like for folks one hundred years ago. I don't mean the details (obviously I have conveniences that they didn't have) I mean it more in the immediate, personal family sort of way. Getting up in the morning, taking care of the things that matter the most (coffee, breakfast, a few errands). Family, friends, and immediate life. I really liked it. That's not to say that it probably wouldn't also get 'ruttish' over time but I can't say that out of experience, that's for sure.

The vineyard, cottages and organic garden are sounding more and more interesting every day. I can't wait till our garden plot is ready for spring (late summer) planting.

may the light be upon ya,
Jer

My Sons

2008-04-01T10:01:00.003-05:00

Well, it's been 11 days since Kris and I brought home our newest family member Hunter. I have to say that (most) of my fears were unfounded. So far, life with two sons is not twice as much work (as I had feared) and it is more than twice as much fun. Wilder is barely homicidal toward Hunter at this point. I am getting pretty good sleep and K is doing awesome with the feeding. At least, that's my perspective on how things are going. To be honest, I am probably getting more sleep than Kris since I just have to wake up, record the feeding time, maybe change a diaper and pretend that I am alert till she finishes the hard part (the actual feeding) then I can lay down, go back to sleep and snooze till the next cycle.

Deb and Allie were out last week helping us acclimate and adjust. I have to say I would in all likelihood be singing a completely different song if they hadn't been here to help us. Allie was a wonder with Wilder and Deb went above and beyond with the cooking and cleaning. I can't possibly express how great it was to not have to worry about Wilder while we were in the hospital and to arrive home to such a welcome. Thanks you two!

Mom is here this week and as I sit here, she is whipping up a wonderful smelling breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, toast, butter, jam-mmm mmm mmm. Thanks to her this paternity leave feels more and more like a vacation every day.

uh oh.

I probably just doomed myself.

Ah well, I'll post more as the week continues. next week I have to head back to work for a week. The week following will see me back here at home for my third and final week of paternity leave.

love to all,
J

WTF? Seriously? Have we really gone INSANE?

2008-03-19T16:51:00.002-05:00

I am browsing around this morning at work while I await the successful completion of a script that I hacked together that would automagically apply security updates to a new computer install from image. Not really important, just trying to establish a base line for what my state of mind was when I came across this.

http://gizmodo.com/361400/autonomous-robots-ethical-combatants-or-suicide-bombers

I'll save you the trouble. In a nutshell, the United states has devoted two years and is planning to pour four billion (yes, Billion) dollers into the development of autonomous weapons platforms.

Think about it.

Autonomous = Decision making
Weapons = Missles, automatic weapons, flame throwers, napalm, hell nukes for all I know.
Platforms = flying, floating and wheeled.

So our government, no longer satisfied with remote control killing, actually thinks that not only can it successfully build weapons that can decide when to kill people, but they have deluded themselves into believing that the weapons will be BETTER at ethically killing. (apparently they don't have emotional baggage, and hence are less likely to kill the taunting school kids or some craziness.) If ever there was an oxymoronic idea I can't imagine what it may have been.

oh yeah. No way anything can possibly go wrong with this brilliant idea.

/wanders off muttering.

J

Cinnamon Rolls, Butterflies and a Little Boy

2008-03-17T15:44:00.004-05:00

...

This weekend (Sunday to be specific) my wife made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Cinnamon rolls are a bit of a treat at the Scott homestead. Not really for any specific reason, we just don't tend to eat a lot of sweets in the mornings. Anyway, this past Sunday Wilder had the chance to demonstrate to us, yet another, Wilder thing. Specifically how one, at the age of two point five, should eat (and I use that term loosley) a cinnamon roll.

Step 1:
Poke the roll with the inedex finger of your right hand to verify that it is indeed real and that you do indeed get to eat it.
Step 2:
Scrape all of the sweet, gooey iceing off and eat it first. Make sure to thoroughly coat both hands and most of your face from the eyes down. 'Cause nothin' spells loving like a thick layer of sugar.
Step 3:
Throw the iceing denuded, mangled-mess of a cinnamon roll to your mother and insist that she "EAT it mama! eat it!"

Step 4:
Place the bun in front of your lips, but not in your mouth, and lick your tounge out to the bun repeatedly. In every conceivable manner, exactly lie a giant drooling Butterfly drinking a flowers nectar. Do this for several seconds until you have saturated our taste buds with cinnamon flavor (and incidentally, the bun) then begin noisily sucking on the juicy Heart of Cinnamon. Do all of this and YOU have mastered the 'Wilder Four Step Path to Cinnamony Enlightenment™'.

Kris and I were, it should be noted, pissing ourselves laughing.

love to all,
-J

Poor wee Wilder

2008-03-10T16:28:00.002-05:00

So this weekend Wilders woes finally came to a head. The upper respritory infection he has been courting for the last few weeks finally started oozing out of his eyes.

yeah, I know.

I had finally managed to convince K after many nights and mornings of leaping out of the bed and checking on our firstborn at the slightest peep that I was a responsible parent. Then, on Friday night (actually it was Saturday morning at oh, I am guessing, 2:30am-ish) apparently he was howling loudly enough to awaken the dead and I was busy soundly sleeping like them.
/sigh.

His eyes had become slimed shut by what can only be described as snooger glue.
we warm compressed and he cried.
we soothed and he cried.
Juice?
Chocolate soy?
Beer?
Cry.
K finally managed to get him to calm down and after a bit we all got back to sleep. (I don't mean to gloss over this bit here. This was the bit where K sat up with Wilder cudddling and consoling him till he calmed enough to go back to sleep. It weren't no 2 minutes)

Next day, he and I headed to the 'fastest' and most 'convenient' medical care available on a Saturday. Yeah, the quotes are there for a reason, it is neither. It is what my friend Patrick calls 'Doc in a Box' to see if we could get some torture drops for his eyes and the most disgusting tasting medicine money can buy. At least, that's how Wilder, via his reactions, refers to what we got for him. Many hours later (Three actually) we headed home and got on with our weekend.

Based on this intro this post could go in a lot of different directions. I could rail on about healthcare in the United States, but I honestly believe it is the best in the world. I could rant about the 'Doc in a Box' but in fact the doctors and nurses we saw (however briefly) were kind and friendly and seemed thorough and competent. I could bitch about how much of my precious time was frittered away on a Saturday but it was my son who was sick and suffering and my beautiful wife who is 9 months pregnant. She is the one doing the heroic job of keeping our home clean, Wilder happy and healthy, the unborn one alive, our finances organized and still putting up with my nonsense. In light of our impending, err I mean anticipated new arrival she has the real challenges these days. (I'm a bit of a Kris 'fanboi' if ya can't tell)

So really, what the hell do I have to gripe about?

light and love all,
J

Kids, Kites and a face aglow

2008-02-20T09:12:00.004-06:00

This past weekend I decided what to do about my 'dinosaur' of a home computer. Instead of the usual, you know, logging onto Dell's website, picking out the highest-end system that I can afford and then paying it off two or three times over the next year I decided that I would build my own.

/blink. blink.

I mean, I am a computer guy after all how tough can this be?

Well as it turns out, tougher than I thought but not all that bad. I spent a few hours researching compatible components and made a list of everything I will need. Then I had an even cooler thought. Why not start upgrading my current computer with the components I buy for my new computer? That way, I sorta get the computer now, albeit in pieces. So I took my happy-butt down to the local Frys and got the biggest, baddest-ass AGP video card they make. (which really ain't all that big or bad-ass unless your comparing it to the panty-waist card I had in my current PC)

While I was there I came across a section in the store that had some neat-o kites. Now, I haven't flown a kite in years. But hey! I have a son! Hold the phone! I remember flying kites with MY dad when I was a kid and it was a ball. Flying all night, sending notes up to the kite all that stuff. As a matter of fact, now that I really think about it, I remember flying kites with my mom too in the back yard for hours on end. I must have really liked flying kites. ;)

So I picked out a biplane style (only 14.99) and headed home with the loot.

I showed it to Kris and Wilder (both thought it was pretty cool.) but since it was a rainy, cold and crappy out I put the kite in the corner of Wilders room and I installed my video card. I then proceeded, just for the heck of it, to fire up all the games I have installed on the PC and crank their video settings up as high as I could. Woot! I was unable to slow any of them down, they all looked pretty dang sweet and sure enough it was like I had a new(ish) computer. yay!

The next day dawned windy and warm. That afternoon I took out the yellow biplane kite and opened up the packaging, pulled out the directions (while Wilder did his level best to tear it up) and realized that all of the internal support structure for the plane was missing from my kite kit. After a few well crafted curses heaped upon both Frys and TheKiteFactory I headed my hiney down to Frys again (with Wilder in tow, which by the way, I will never do again unless I have a muzzle and a leash...or at least am smart enough to corrall him in a cart) to exchange the kite for one with all the parts. The suspicious, bored and frankly somewhat beady eyed girl (no, seriously, beady-eyed) at the exchange desk didn't seem to understand what I was telling her when I said that all of the parts weren't present in this kit. That is, until I made it clear that I didn't want any money (or blood or children) in exchange for my kite, I just wanted a replacement. She sent me off to get a new and complete kite kit, which I did. During this search, Wilder managed to pull about half of the toys in the store off the shelves and talk (I use the term loosly) me into buying him a Thomas the Train (remote controlled, incidentally) toy but that is another story.

We got everything exchanged and purchased and off we went. Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

Once home, I assembled the kite and Wilder and I headed to the front yard. Now I do plan to take him and the kite up to the big open field as soon as weather improves again but for the test run, we just took to the open sidewalk in front of all the houses on our street. I rolled out some string, set the kite face down facing into the wind and yanked. Up she went like an arrow into the sun. Wilder started yelling about how it's flying papa, its flying. (although to be fair, he pronounced it like it'sh fry-ying PApa it'sh fry-ying! his lil face was all awash with pleasure and made my heart glow.

then the plane crashed.

It really wasn't a big deal at all to Wilder, it was just HIS chance to fly the kite. So I gave him the string loop, held the kite and told him which way to run. (mostly into the wind and away from the street) off he went like a shot. Interestingly enough, the kite flew pretty well despite his meandering course and variable speed. The best though, was the look on his face the first time he turned around to see that HE was flying the kite. I can't really adequately describe the look of pure joy. Adults can't make that face, we lose that ability at some point but a 2 year old boy sure as heck can.

Its the look of sheer joy.

So now I understand (one more thing) about why the simplest and most common things get to be common. Despite the simplicity, or maybe because of it, they make for memories that last a lifetime.

...thanks Mom and Dad for that, and a million other things.

Jer

Warning Politics

2008-02-12T08:26:00.000-06:00

"If ye love wealth greater than liberty, the tranquility of servitude greater than the animating contest for freedom, go home from us in peace. We seek not your counsel, nor your arms. Crouch down and lick the hand that feeds you; May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen." – Samuel Adams, 1776

So my man, Dr Ron Paul has stated on his website that, with the withdrawal of Mitt Romney, there is no chance of a brokered convention and as such no chance that he can get the Republican nomination. He has also indicated that he will not run under a third party flag. By this I am assuming that he is indicating the Libertarian party. He also has a re-election campaign to run for his Texas congressional seat and as such I can see why he would be reluctant to switch party affiliations.

So the Republican Party has its so called 'maverick' well in place. I guess McCain will be a fine choice for them. He represents pretty much what I have come to expect from the party that used to oppose the Department of Education 'empty mandate' bureaucracy, smaller government, lower taxes (less wealth redistribution) and less interference in people lives but which now represents failed foreign policy, oppressive government secrecy, illegal spying on the American people, abuse of signing statements, tacit approval of torture techniques, politization of the department of justice and the list goes on and on. Republicans (and for that matter Democrats and Independents) have missed out on the opportunity to cast their lot in with a real Maverick. (Yeah, the capital M is on purpose). Someone who would have secured our borders from illegal immigration, removed the primary issue with dividing families, improved our foreign policy in unimaginable ways, (by cessation of our interference with the natural progression of a nations political process) decreased government spending by over a third and placed 30% more money every two weeks back in my pocket (primarily by not taking my money in the first place, dammit!). Someone who would have gotten the damned wire taps off our phones and pulled our country's hands out the pants of every other country in the world. Last but not least, and for the sake of all that is holy finally stopped this ludicrous and idiotic 'war on drugs' that is making the Columbian drug cartels billions annually and costing us even more.

I could rant on and on but I won’t. I think Dr Paul has managed to succeed even though he will not be in the next presidential election. He has delivered an idea to a great many people; millions in fact. He has spotlighted and made us aware of the machinations that are at work in our government and mainstream media. Machinations whose sole purpose is to ensure that anyone with truly radical or innovative ideas are sidelined, minimized or marginalized resulting in, in the final estimate a homogenized, pasteurized, bland, safe candidate that is not going to interrupt the collective nap (coma?) of the American people. Who will insure that those in power remain in power and that we continue to see (for our amusement and edification) the great political Theatre that we have all come to expect. Theatre whereby the sons and daughters of American citizens are dying by the thousands in a non congressionally sanctions war (or ‘police action’, if you prefer) to prop up a foreign government and we have legislators passing non-frikking binding resolutions and thinking that by doing so they are accomplishing anything whatsoever.

What he has done is galvanized and excited a lot of young folks to get into the fray, myself included, although I can’t really claim to be young. Youth today who have heard what he has to say and who like what they hear. Youth who very well may run for political office themselves and if not run, then vote for serious like minded people who do. People who want to reduce our aggressive posture around the world and repair our image. People who want less interference in their lives and an end to the ‘nanny state’. People who want to keep their money and invest it or spend it as they see fit.

You know, the sort of people who used to live in that (almost) bygone place called the Land of the Free, you know, The United States of America.

Peace,
Jer

http://www.ronpaul2008.com/

Kiva

2007-11-05T09:19:00.000-06:00

I have, of late, become somewhat addicted to a new magazine. Mother Earth News. No, it's not a new magazine, it has been around for 30 or so years but its new to me. I can't really put my finger exactly on what it is I like about it. It may be that it has lots of articles on farming techniques (and hey, I grow Okra...right) or it could be that the writing is very well done (ie written above the 6th grade level and presuming more than half a brain) and the stories are complete.(you know, more than a soundbite) On the other hand, it could be that the magazine seems to espouse a simplification of ones life and I think that maye be something K and I have been moving toward for some time now.

No, we're not about to sell the kid(s) for science experiments and move to a commune somewhere to frolic naked in the woods, although from time to time...
;)

Anyway, to get to the reason for this post. I came across, in the latest edition, an article about Micro-lending. I have read about it and heard about it before (on NPR as I recall) and I remember thinking it sounded pretty cool, but at the same time I was pretty disconnected from the idea, I mean, after all what did it have to do with me. Nothing right?

As it turns out, the answer is wrong. The Mother earth news article listed the website Kiva.org and so I went there.

It's pretty damn cool. On this site are people of minimal means from all over the world who are requesting LOANS so that they can start up small businesses and support their families and communities. For as little as twenty-five bucks anyone with a computer and a card can help out a bit. You get to see exactly where your money is spent (no big organizations paying 60% of the donations on internal support, or whatever) and once the money is paid back, you can reallocate it for a new loan.

Its like Karmic interest that just keeps on giving.

For the time being they are not making any interest, but Kiva is looking to start up a small interest amount in an effort to encourage new investment. I am pretty psyked about this and plan to see if I can help someone out.

Check it out, ya never know you may see someone who touches your heart and be able to help a bit.

peace all,
Jer

Home for Sale

2007-10-24T09:05:00.000-05:00

Well I gotta say that selling a house is one of the most aggravating processes I have been through in a long time. K and I have a wonderful realtor, the mother of a friend. She is motivated, warm, intelligent and very well versed in the areas we both want to buy into and our neighborhood. She is helpful and has spent a good deal of her own money assisting us in getting our house ready for market.

Good lord I am tired of this.

We have de-crapified our house twice. Everything in the house has been moved. For Pete's sake, my underwear and socks are in the side table which now resides in the living room. Last Saturday it took me a half hour to find the tea kettle so I could make coffee. My wife's wool shawl is our new table cloth. I have no chairs in front of the TV (yeah, this is America, dammit.)

sigh.

K is a wonder, I don't suppose I can really say that enough. She has managed to keep everything moving forward despite the state of the house. Hopefully this will all be over soon. Hopefully we will have a nice snug home with 3 bedrooms, a study, a fireplace (that burns wood) and a pool with a big enough yard for the Black-Betty to romp with the Wild-boy.

/crosses fingers

peace to all and may you have a thoroughly creepy Samhain.

J

One 'Mike's Hard Lemonade' Playdate

2007-10-01T09:06:00.000-05:00

Our kind Hosts...

So this past Saturday Wilder and I made the drive (out of the loop and everything) up to visit with our good friends Patrick, Maggie and Brenden.

Yep. It was a Playdate.

I don't know for certain why I avoid that word, I guess it must have somethig to do with this book, which decries the playdate in all its formality and silliness. As with many things though, the reason people schedule playdates is a good one. It's a chance to sit around, shoot the breeze and eat some tasty junkfoods. The children get to play with 'new' toys and, if yer lucky, you get an exhausted tyke out of the bargain.

Brenden as 'The Flash' (I am still learnin' my IPhone camera)

Wilder and I had a great time. he and Brenden played together very amicably. Wilder didn't hit, bite, stomp, steal or curse the whole time we were there.
(As far as I know)
;)

...another 'Flash Brenden', whizzing off camera.

All in all I have to chalk it up to a win. Next month, K, W and I will be hosting and Wilder will be on home turff. Hopefully he will be as gracious a host as he was guest.

thanks again guys!

Jer