June 2004 Archives

Hmmm. Dearthage. I do operate this thing in cycles I guess.

Giselle lost her first tooth week before last. She's late on losing her baby teeth like I was. I think I was 7 when I lost my first one too. So I've been checking out her 2-tooth gap on the bottom, and noticing that the adult teeth are coming in kind of crooked to each other. Maybe that's normal when they're first sprouting, but already I'm trying to contemplate whether we'll be looking at 4 or 5 figures by the time she's 14. Dental insurance is a joke. A joke I tell you. $1500 lifetime max benefit for orthodontia. Gripe gripe. Yeah I know, we could be over in rural Albania yanking each other's teeth out with rusted pliers.

Sorry if I weirded anybody out with the article format in that last post. I was trying to step outside the box, as they say, and came off kind of lame. The orange 'slow down' sign just got me to musing.

We're headed down to Phoenix Thursday for our convention this summer. Glendale actually. Hub of the West Nile Virus infection zone. Centered roughly on Mom's back yard by the look of the latest maps.

Marsha Perkins of East Soliere Drive lost longtime friend and family pet, Mercury, to traffic Friday afternoon, in what has come to be known by local homeowners as Catgrinder Road. Mercury, a white and orange tabby, allegedly attempted to cross Soliere Drive around 4:30 pm Monday, June 21st and was struck in the Eastbound lane by a gray or brown late model El Dorado. "It's a bad time of day for cats," noted area resident Mark Finkel, "people are getting off work, they're in a hurry, they're on their cell phones figuring out grocery lists and whatnot--they're just not looking out for those little boogers."

The posted speed on Soliere changes from 35 to 40 mph at the site of the accident. Most residents and commuters note that the speed limit is rarely observed or enforced. Commuter Roy Benson of East Flagstaff notes, "Once you round the bend, that road is a straight shot for 2 miles. Anybody who ain't pouring on the gas is asking to get tailgated or else get some real angry looks I tell you what. Cats got to look out for themselves. I'm not dumping Burger King all over my floorboards because some [expletive] cat can't tell a 2 ton Ford is barrelling down on it."

By way of counterpoint, resident Carrie Olsen points out, "That bend in the road up there is really tricky. Those cats can't get a decent gauge on how fast cars are coming out of the turn. By the time they realize what's happening, it's too late. People really need to slow it down, just like Marsha's saying."

In an effort to get the word out, and try to bring some meaning to Mercury's untimely death, Marsha has been coordinating a local sign campaign to raise awareness about speeding on the dangerous thoroughfare. "People are just so self absorbed they have no idea the danger they present to our neighborhood. Mercury was the centerpiece of our family for years. He was proud and resiliant like most cats are, but he had a fun side. I remember the time he suddenly ran up Ed's leg at the dinner table. I've never seen Ed so alive. That's the kind of treasure we've lost." Choking back tears, Marsha continued, " And it's all because somebody wants to get to--Sizzler 20 seconds earlier--we all know how important that spot in line is. All I'm asking is that people slow down and take some time to get from point A to point B."

Next-door-neigbor Ron Holland isn't so sure, "I don't know what putting up big pink and orange signs is going to do. It isn't going to bring her cat back. Anyway, the speed where that cat got run over is 40. You telling me a cat's got a lot better chance if people are driving 40 instead of 60? I don't see it. Maybe the cat's got a 2% better chance of dodging at 40. I don't know. She's all emotional cause her cat got hit. Why aren't people putting up signs about saving pedestrians or people in those tiny import cars? Isn't that where speed really kills?"

Marsha's response was only, "Yes, people are more important than cats. But they're not the ones dying at that corner, are they?"

Services for Mercury will be held at 3 pm this Saturday at Marsha and Ed's flower bed.

Well, I just had a minor prank collapse around me. Somebody's cell phone was blasting the electronically flattened strains of Étud down the hall a few minutes ago, and as is usually the case with 'creative' cell phone tunes, it wasn't getting answered nearly fast enough. In fact, it wasn't getting answered at all. So I trotted over to see what gives, and noticed it was Jo's phone. And since I'm nothing if not passive aggressive, I decided to josh around and send a message at the same time. So I started wrapping the cell phone in successive ovals of paper, taped from different angles, with the intention of writing 'Cell Phone Muffler' on it. It should've only taken like 90 seconds. But within moments, her other land-line office phone started ringing. And since nobody else was around, it was my responsibility to answer the call (we answer each other's calls, you see). Except her office phone is this souped up, special-access thing with a headset and a triple-action signal switch that I have no idea how to operate. So I immediately dropped the first caller. I figured 'aw crud', they'll call back. And they did. Instantly. So I jogged to the next office to pick it up by way of another phone I knew how to operate. I got off that call and ran back to finish the muffler before she got back. But while the pen was in my hand ready to write the punch line, the office Borg phone rang again. As I leaped across the hall to pick this next call up, I saw the mark walking back to her desk. RRRRGHH! So I stomped a couple times and transfered the call back to her desk, with the paper mess around her cell phone just looking like random sabotage. Pfooey.

:: waves to Jo ::

:: dives for cover ::

I got my first heckle from a random internet searcher. Check it out. Stupid towel post.

I was getting ready to head out for lunch, but now I'm sitting here waiting for one of our local clinical researchers to come over and have me scan a bunch of paperwork A-SAP, because he's in too much of a hurry to do it himself...his scanner doesn't have an autofeeder. Well...neither does ours...until you realize that I'm the auto-feeder. :PPPP

Mah trees have been bushwhacked. It was really windy a couple days ago, and so when I saw one of my aspens all leaning to the side I figured it just couldn't take it. But closer inspection showed limbs all hacked up and there was a big scattering of leaves right around it. If that was the wind, those leaves would've been gone. And then Amanda says "oh yeah, you know the lovely little neigbor kids? Well they were running around with huge plastic swords yesterday playing 'tag' with Giselle and Harrison...and those trees were their base. Great. I can see it now. NO HIDING IN BASE!!! SLASH!!!! SLAAAAAASH!!!!! HARRRRR!!!! And then my kids screaming and crashing out through the branches while Excalibur cleaves the supple limbs into submission.

Barbed wire should do the trick.

I worked on my scrambled egg presentation today, with much thought given to the travesty I presented last month. I didn't sautee the additives, and went with the omelette technique to leave the color and texture as unmolested as possible:

And now a couple more gratuitous kid pictures.

Not only is today the last day of 1st grade for Giselle, it's also Dress-up-like-the-60s-70s-or-80s-Day. With that in mind, we present

The Last Day of 1st Grade--Hippie Style

A couple days ago, when I was feeling all righteously indignant about turn signals & such, I ran across a big logjam on the road back to work. Up ahead in the shimmering distance, I could see what looked like a go-cart snaking around on the shoulder of the road causing everybody to slow to a near halt to avoid hitting it. And I thought, in the mood I was in, what sort of hare-brained parents are letting their obviously less-than-coordinated little brat bob-and-weave their scooter all in and out of traffic? I'm gonna git a picture of this by golly! And as I got closer and grabbed a couple blurry shots, I realized I wasn't seeing some little goofball on a go-cart.

I was actually seeing a guy on a paraplegically-enabled bike-mobile. Oh the shame. Here I was getting all bent out of shape, and this guy is just trying to be self sufficient, heaving away, trying to peddle it with his hands...which is obviously why he was weaving on and off the road. It's kind of an uphill grade right there and he was having a heck of a time cranking the handles in the first place, much less steer it. There's a lot of brave souls out there. I've got seemingly full use of both my legs and my arms, and I'm still afraid to bike along that stretch of road.

Oh! Harrison locked Amanda out of the house for about ten minutes yesterday. What a character. Vive la resistance?

Picking up Giselle from school was a strong test of my nerves today. Let me present you with this little diagram. Notice the aerial shot was taken when the roads surrounding the school weren't packed with cars, smoldering piles of rubbish and police in riot gear...

(Green line is my path.) See the "one-way" arrows? They represent signs that aren't really supposed to be taken seriously. Sort of like those laws from the early 1800s that prohibit you from spanking your wife on the front porch step after 7:00 pm, or picking your nose beyond the depth of one knuckle within full view of a carriage horse. And who follows those pesky things anymore? Right? Well anyway, the one-way rule doesn't apply in the real world Christensen Elementary either. And too bad for you if you trust that people will follow that rule by going the direction you expect, because you're going to be in for one heart attack after another. But that wasn't the problem today. No, my problem was I apparently got there immediately after dozens of kids had simultaneously entered every last car along Frogger-Row. See the red rectangles? Those are the Insane Parallel Parker Posse. They are downright saucy, they are mostly SUVs, and like popcorn kernels in a microwave, they're ready to pop. Right out in front of you. At any second.

I was on my way to 'pickup destination B' due to congestion at 'pickup destination A'. But I must've looked like I had hydraulics installed on my car and was trying to get it cranked up for all the split-second brakings I was hitting...in fact, for as much progress I was able to make, it probably would've been pretty cool to just sit there and bounce the front end of my car up and down for a couple minutes for all the consideration I was getting. :: makes note to check prices on hydraulic kits ::

But really, just a couple blinks of the turn signal, is that too much to ask? Darn staight, that's too much to ask. If there's one thing I've learned in 18 years of driving it's that using your turn signal is a sign of weakness and subservience. It's like oooooh asking permission from people to make a lane change. And we all know how icky being polite is right? This one lady in a behemoth Suburban rocketed out in a cloud of dust, and at the very instant her tires began to spit gravel, she hit her blinker for 1.5 flashes while I stomped on the brakes, but I was like, okay, she gave a token effort. At least she acknowledged that I exist, and was kind enough to wave at me, as if to say hey there guy, sorry that all the mail in your front seat just shot past the firewall under the dash and will probably start smoldering a couple minutes down the road. But hey, she offered up a consolation signal, so I waved back. Like I've said before, that place is like downtown Tijuana with broken traffic lights (I know, what's the difference whether the lights are broken or not). There is a bright spot. It's just 2 more days until summer break. And then I get to recharge my school-pickup stress meter for next year.

This is Giselle's last week of school before summer break. Her class is going on a hike up one of the Mt. Elden trails today. And of course I'm tamping down the fears of what if a fire blows up from all the wind, or what about the drought-starved cougars? And then as I sit here on my kushy butt, I think well you know, I could've taken the day off from work and volunteered to go along with them...and there I'd be a half mile down the trail sprawled on a rock with the other glandular kids breathing into a paper bag.

I've worked out 90% of the new route I want to take to work this summer by biking again. I've scouted a storm-drain detour under I-40 to a road that isn't hacked up by 2 years worth of impending construction, and no busy intersection crossings. I just have to figure out a particular off-road section on the north side of the highway. But I bet it will have tons of prairie dogs, and that's something to look forward to.

Last week after picking Giselle up from school I asked her if she had a spelling test that day, and she brought up that, "Oh! I saw Kiris cheating on her test too!"..."She does what now?"..."Yeah, she writes her words on the back of the paper, and then erases them when her test is over so Mrs. Sims won't see them." Then she goes into a list of the other kids that cheat and how they're up to such-n-such page in their spelling books, and that when Gavin got caught, he had to go up and flip his light from green to red (1st-grade motivational thing). I asked her if Mrs. Sims knew about the other kids cheating, and she shrugged and said she didn't think so...they did erase the words before turning the tests in after all. Eheh. Some things never change. She assured me she doesn't cheat, I mean COME ON Dad. And I believe her. She has a really muscular sense of right and wrong, fair and unfair*....which of course has absolutely no effect on her and Harrison bursting out the front door and running screaming down the entire length of the street in their underwear yesterday. Grounded. Three days. Darn funny if only it didn't poke my white-trash-sensitivity nerve so much >:-D

* Not to mention having to test for each set of words 2 or 3 times before she passes to the next set...

Oh man, I almost forgot mention...

I got 3rd place on the Banana challenge at DPChallenge.

Fruit rules.

Scenario:

Let's say I'm sitting at somebody else's computer. Troubleshooting something. Prying into their private files. What have you.

Now let's say you walk by and see me sitting there, instead of the usual resident. What's the first thing that comes to your mind to say? --No, not 'Security!'-- No, what you know you're really going to say is 'Golly Rich (or Jo, or whoever)! You sure do look different! Are you losing your hair? And you look a little shorter too! Followed up by a big cheesy smile.

And I will politely laugh with you 'harr, yeeahh, ya got me. Here I am. Sitting at Rich's desk. Kinda strange and mind boggling huh.' But inside I will be secretly groaning and rolling my figurative eyes, and chanting that you go ahead and leave while you're behind so that the next passerby can have their turn.

I know. I'm being mean. People are just trying to be cute and stuff. But really, come ON. You can only do it so often before it wears thinner than the monk-patch on the back of my head. Ugh. Speaking of stale material... :P