Just to let folks know. I'm finishing up my last shift at work now, and will otherwise be too busy with holiday things soon to post.
See you after Christmas. Or maybe the new year's.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Be well
Merry Christmas to all, may your holidays be charmed,
My wife said if I didn't post this, she'd cause bodily harm.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Christmas comes early
Jackson and New Line reach an agreement to produce The Hobbit.
Yep, I'm already jumping on one foot to the other in anticipation. I don't get why he needs to do two films, but whatever.
Another plus, I won't have to bother reading "The Hobbit" to Sam. Now I can just take him to the movie. And buy the video game(s). Awesome.
Yep, I'm already jumping on one foot to the other in anticipation. I don't get why he needs to do two films, but whatever.
Another plus, I won't have to bother reading "The Hobbit" to Sam. Now I can just take him to the movie. And buy the video game(s). Awesome.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Awwwww ...
Granola chick lives in a log cabin with a little baby coyote and her cat.
Won't be so cute once the pup decides to cash in all of Morriss' nine lives, but for now it's cool.
Won't be so cute once the pup decides to cash in all of Morriss' nine lives, but for now it's cool.
When life gives you sausage ...
You're not going to take it. At least not in the 12 ounce size.
Friend at work passed this on. Funniest thing I've heard this month. Warning: Bad words. Man gets intense about Jimmy Dean. And his little plump Scottish girl.
Friend at work passed this on. Funniest thing I've heard this month. Warning: Bad words. Man gets intense about Jimmy Dean. And his little plump Scottish girl.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
News
It’s now official at work, so I’m passing on the news here.
I’m quitting my job. (Don’t say "Again?")
I’ve had some good times at the Denton Record-Chronicle, but I’m leaving my full-time job as assistant sports editor in a couple of weeks.
My wife’s family leave time is about up.
Whereas:
And I really wish Daddy had some kind of job that could make this situation possible. But, after about a year of searching, nothing has panned out so far. I even applied to graduate school, but got rejected by North Texas because 10 years ago I made a D in chemistry. I wanted a public relations degree. (With a thanks here to Dave and John for saying they’d vouch for me. I may need you later.)
So we’re kind of left in a lurch right now. It hit me the other day, how I used to make fun of women over the biological clock thing. (I recall bringing one girl to tears just by repeating "tick-tock" until she broke.)
Now I’m faced with my own countdown. I don’t just want a job to eke out a living on the edge.
I’m like everyone else, I want to contribute, be in the center of things, make my mark. The problem is that the older you get, the time you have left to establish yourself in any given field diminishes, the amount of time you have for people to take you seriously when you’re starting off gets smaller and smaller and smaller.
So I’m considering this a short window of opportunity to figure out what I’m going to do.
I’m also looking forward to some aspects of life as Mr. Mom: Teach the boy things, get in shape, work more on this blog and other projects. My wife says the extra time is an illusion, but at the very least I’ll be back on daylight hours, which will be no small joy.
I’ll miss the Record-Chronicle. The atmosphere there is laid back, loud, eclectic. It was almost a college atmosphere, and reminded me of why I thought I would in the very least have fun as a journalist when I graduated.
Still, as an assistant sports editor, I’d stepped about as high up the career ladder in sports as I could go. I don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of any sport, and I don’t want to spend the next three years of my life learning that knowledge so that I can then graduate to running agate at a mid-major for $45,000 a year.
So, for the time being. I’ll be going to part-time at the Record-Chronicle until they hire a replacement, I find another job, or we both lose interest.
Meredith (God bless her) will go back to work. I’ll be at home with Sam.
And we’ll all be working toward changing things around.
I’m quitting my job. (Don’t say "Again?")
I’ve had some good times at the Denton Record-Chronicle, but I’m leaving my full-time job as assistant sports editor in a couple of weeks.
My wife’s family leave time is about up.
Whereas:
- We both work night shifts.
- There is no such thing as late-night day care.
- Meredith makes, like, a bajillion more than I do.
And I really wish Daddy had some kind of job that could make this situation possible. But, after about a year of searching, nothing has panned out so far. I even applied to graduate school, but got rejected by North Texas because 10 years ago I made a D in chemistry. I wanted a public relations degree. (With a thanks here to Dave and John for saying they’d vouch for me. I may need you later.)
So we’re kind of left in a lurch right now. It hit me the other day, how I used to make fun of women over the biological clock thing. (I recall bringing one girl to tears just by repeating "tick-tock" until she broke.)
Now I’m faced with my own countdown. I don’t just want a job to eke out a living on the edge.
I’m like everyone else, I want to contribute, be in the center of things, make my mark. The problem is that the older you get, the time you have left to establish yourself in any given field diminishes, the amount of time you have for people to take you seriously when you’re starting off gets smaller and smaller and smaller.
So I’m considering this a short window of opportunity to figure out what I’m going to do.
I’m also looking forward to some aspects of life as Mr. Mom: Teach the boy things, get in shape, work more on this blog and other projects. My wife says the extra time is an illusion, but at the very least I’ll be back on daylight hours, which will be no small joy.
I’ll miss the Record-Chronicle. The atmosphere there is laid back, loud, eclectic. It was almost a college atmosphere, and reminded me of why I thought I would in the very least have fun as a journalist when I graduated.
Still, as an assistant sports editor, I’d stepped about as high up the career ladder in sports as I could go. I don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of any sport, and I don’t want to spend the next three years of my life learning that knowledge so that I can then graduate to running agate at a mid-major for $45,000 a year.
So, for the time being. I’ll be going to part-time at the Record-Chronicle until they hire a replacement, I find another job, or we both lose interest.
Meredith (God bless her) will go back to work. I’ll be at home with Sam.
And we’ll all be working toward changing things around.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Fat cats
On Friday, The Fort Worth Star-Telegram printed what I think is the terminal article on a feature about, yes, pets and weight loss.
A couple of months back they started running a series about overweight pets and, gameshow like, kept a running tally on their efforts to lose weight. (Sample article here.)
I would look at the pictures during the series because I like critter shots and these were even better -- freak critter shots that raised my self-esteem about my own pets.
But I could never bring myself to read the articles, for the simple reason that the premise of the whole series was based on a problem that, as far as I could tell, the writer managed to go three months without facing:
Want JoJo to to lose weight? Howsabout you don't shove so much food down his pie-hole?
He's a domesticated dog. He's not going to develop an opposable thumb and go refrigerator raiding at 2 a.m. Dominoes don't know what "arf" means. Fido ain't going to sneak out through the fire escape, scarf down a large double-meatsa, sprint towards the nearest KFC and later wake up, covered in feathers next to a naked Michael Moore*.
Both of my dogs have looked chunky from time to time. Know what I did? I cut back on their food supply. They lost weight. Why the hell didn't I get my picture in the paper?
It doesn't compare to humans. We've all gone through times when we didn't have anything better to do than not eat another donut. I even have a kind of admiration for those with girth who carry it around without complaining. It's an anti-establishment statement for the times we live in.
But dogs and cats? No excuses, sorry. Just don't feed'em.
*On second thought, that could happen.
A couple of months back they started running a series about overweight pets and, gameshow like, kept a running tally on their efforts to lose weight. (Sample article here.)
I would look at the pictures during the series because I like critter shots and these were even better -- freak critter shots that raised my self-esteem about my own pets.
But I could never bring myself to read the articles, for the simple reason that the premise of the whole series was based on a problem that, as far as I could tell, the writer managed to go three months without facing:
They're freakin' dogs. (And a few cats.)
Want JoJo to to lose weight? Howsabout you don't shove so much food down his pie-hole?
He's a domesticated dog. He's not going to develop an opposable thumb and go refrigerator raiding at 2 a.m. Dominoes don't know what "arf" means. Fido ain't going to sneak out through the fire escape, scarf down a large double-meatsa, sprint towards the nearest KFC and later wake up, covered in feathers next to a naked Michael Moore*.
Both of my dogs have looked chunky from time to time. Know what I did? I cut back on their food supply. They lost weight. Why the hell didn't I get my picture in the paper?
It doesn't compare to humans. We've all gone through times when we didn't have anything better to do than not eat another donut. I even have a kind of admiration for those with girth who carry it around without complaining. It's an anti-establishment statement for the times we live in.
But dogs and cats? No excuses, sorry. Just don't feed'em.
*On second thought, that could happen.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Fantasyland
We're beginning playoffs in both fantasy leagues that I'm playing in. And for the first time, I'm a higher seed than my opponent in one, and I'm actually getting a bye in the other.
I've never done this well. Of course, I didn't pick either of my teams and I've refused any and all trade offers since.
But that just shows I'm learning.
I've never done this well. Of course, I didn't pick either of my teams and I've refused any and all trade offers since.
But that just shows I'm learning.
More notes ...
Things I thought about writing about over Thanksgiving, but forgot.
Gibberish talk
My wife tells me that I must stop speaking gibberish to the child, as per orders of one of the roughly 38 books on baby raising that now sit on top of our coffee table. It has something to do with the synapses of his brain. Also, some of the sounds I make come close to some politically incorrect words, and I should add that making gooby-boo noises over and over again really annoys my woman.
Still. I’ve realized recently that the first few months after his child’s birth is about the only time in a man’s life when he gets away with making nonsense noises. And I’ve realized that making these noises is fun. Therefore, the gibberish will continue. Besides, Sam seems to like it for now.
He may think differently when he graduates high school, but we’ll work through it.
BCS situation
Listening to the talk over Thanksgiving in Hico, I realized that I’m the only college football postseason traditionalist in my family.
"Traditionalist" being defined as someone who likes something the way it is. What I don’t like is this week of the year, when the entire sporting nation goes all teeth-gnashy about the lack of a college football playoff and the way it’s turning the game into an addled farce.
My basic argument: Yeah right. College football is being killed by the lack of a playoff. People are turning away from college football in droves. All those new stadium building projects are sad statements based on the false hope that people can some how be fooled into buying tickets for just one more farcical season.
I have more thought-out arguments, but this is the first thing that came into my mind at dinner after a brother-in-law described the current bowl system as "socialism."
King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
Official site here
I plan on writing more about this movie, but for right now, I'll definitely give it a high recommendation. The basic premise: Geeks fight over the world record of Donkey Kong, the ’80s video game. I cheered loud enough to wake up my child. The story is better than anything Hollywood has come up with in the last few years. The villain is probably the most entertaining character in movies this year and the soundtrack consists of a lot of ’80s songs that have been playing in my head since. Good times.
Gibberish talk
My wife tells me that I must stop speaking gibberish to the child, as per orders of one of the roughly 38 books on baby raising that now sit on top of our coffee table. It has something to do with the synapses of his brain. Also, some of the sounds I make come close to some politically incorrect words, and I should add that making gooby-boo noises over and over again really annoys my woman.
Still. I’ve realized recently that the first few months after his child’s birth is about the only time in a man’s life when he gets away with making nonsense noises. And I’ve realized that making these noises is fun. Therefore, the gibberish will continue. Besides, Sam seems to like it for now.
He may think differently when he graduates high school, but we’ll work through it.
BCS situation
Listening to the talk over Thanksgiving in Hico, I realized that I’m the only college football postseason traditionalist in my family.
"Traditionalist" being defined as someone who likes something the way it is. What I don’t like is this week of the year, when the entire sporting nation goes all teeth-gnashy about the lack of a college football playoff and the way it’s turning the game into an addled farce.
My basic argument: Yeah right. College football is being killed by the lack of a playoff. People are turning away from college football in droves. All those new stadium building projects are sad statements based on the false hope that people can some how be fooled into buying tickets for just one more farcical season.
I have more thought-out arguments, but this is the first thing that came into my mind at dinner after a brother-in-law described the current bowl system as "socialism."
King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
Official site here
I plan on writing more about this movie, but for right now, I'll definitely give it a high recommendation. The basic premise: Geeks fight over the world record of Donkey Kong, the ’80s video game. I cheered loud enough to wake up my child. The story is better than anything Hollywood has come up with in the last few years. The villain is probably the most entertaining character in movies this year and the soundtrack consists of a lot of ’80s songs that have been playing in my head since. Good times.
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