Tuesday, 20 December 2011

My kids love books. Owen likes to look at picture pictures, and he loves to sit next to me and read chapter books. This year, he and I have read upwards of twenty books together, including Black Beauty, Stuart Little, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, Socks, and the entire Henry Huggins series. Isla also enjoys paging through books, and she often brings them to us and asks us to read them to her.

Needless to say, books are a great gift idea for our kids, and I hope they are for your kids, too.

The question is: what do you buy for kids who already own hundreds of books?

Here are some ideas…

All My Friends are Dead, by Avery Monsen and Joey John. This is a great book to show kids the ultimate comedy of life. Of course, dinosaur books are great, but let’s be honest: they’re all dead. This book shows the kinship that dinosaurs share with the dodo, neglected house plants, and old people.

Have you ever read a Laura Numeroff book? We own her book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and it’s a fun book, but it is almost certainly the only book of Numeroff’s that we will ever own. The reason is, all of her other books are exactly the same. It seems she came up with an idea and, well, that’s the only idea she ever plans to come up with. I don’t understand this – if I ever was paid to create art in any form, I would at least try to reinvent myself at every turn. Anyway, I’m off topic here. The point is, if you’re sick of Numeroff’s one-trick pony show, get your kids:

Mary Roznick’s If You Give a Kid a Cookie, Will He Shut the Fuck Up? The answer, of course, is no. But the book will still be a treasure your little ones will enjoy over and over again.

Another option for those tech-savvy tikes who have known nothing but the 21st century is…

Ann Droyd’s (come on, that’s gotta be a psudonym) Goodnight iPad. The original book, Goodnight, Moon, is such a bizarre, non-poetic headtrip, that it’s practically begging to be parodied. I’m glad to see that Ms. Droyd has done it justice. Of course, there’s also Goodnight Bush, certainly funnier for adults, but too time-sensitive for kids like mine who will never know the pure bliss that was Bush’s last day in office.

And if your children are not quite as bright as mine (i.e., grasping the concept of fractals in utero), then you might need to help them along with…

Introductory Calculus, by Orni Inouye. This is, by the way, the first book in my blog post that I’m serious about purchasing for a child. I’ve never actually held this book in my hands, but from what I can tell, it looks about as close to “fun for all ages” as a book can be.

And while I’m on the books-I-seriously-think-kids-should-own kick, here’s a book I perused while standing in line at Barnes and Noble the other day…

The Star Trek Book of Opposites, by David Borgenicht. It features opposties such as “One” (showing Uhuru holding a single tribble) and “Many” (with Kirk bombarded by the fuzzy creatures). A must have if you want your child to have any chance at living long and prospering.

Penultimately, if your kids are old enough to have other kids over for play-dates or slumber parties (or whatever you call them these days), you may want to get them:

Christie McIlor’s The Three Martini Playdate.

Finally…

If you want more real book ideas for kids, check out my friend’s blog post HERE.

Saturday, 17 December 2011

My home improvement today concerned the room we use the least: the spare room in the basement.

We use the room for the cat’s litter box, and to store shelves, boxes, and chairs that we’re not using at the moment. The annoying thing about the room is that the light fixture is (was) a fluorescent light. Actually, the previous homeowner installed fluorescent lights in three areas in the basement.He even cut out the sheetrock and recessed them in between the ceiling joists for some reason. Maybe so that they looked uglier and gave off less light.

I already replaced the fixture right at the bottom of the stairs, but this one in the spare room was a little trickier. For some bizarre reason, the fixture was installed on one side of the room, and I wanted the new fixture to be more centrally located. This required drilling through a couple of joists, then running the wire down the length of room and fishing it through a hole I punched in the ceiling. Yeah, I really punched it. Owen got a real kick out of the mess I made. I didn’t mind the mess so much, because I knew I would just assign Owen the task of cleaning it.

It took about an hour or so, but everything’s good now. A regular incandescent light near the center of the room. Unlike the fluorescent light that was there, this light turns on instantly when the switch is flipped and gives off enough light to navigate without stepping on cat surprises.

Sunday, 18 December 2011

This morning, I was once again on the radio show Atheists Talk. As you may recall, I was on the show once before, but on that occasion, I was the guest. This time, I was the interviewer. How cool is that?

With Owen joining me for moral support, I interviewed author Glenn Kleier regarding his recent novel The Knowledge of Good and Evil. Glenn wasn’t in the studio; he was tied-in via telephone. That was a little weird. I didn’t really like having a conversation with someone who wasn’t there.

Regardless, the host, Brianne Bilyeu, said that I did a great job, and the sound technician said I was one of the best interviewers yet. He also said I have an ‘awesome voice for radio,’ which, actually, I have heard before. And now that I think about it, in all the times I’ve hosted Atheists Talk TV show, no one has ever said I have an awesome face for TV. Huh. Go figure.

If you didn’t tune in to the show when it was live, GO HERE and listen via RSS feed.

Monday, 19 December 2011

So, during the mass organizing and cleaning that took place this past weekend in preparation both of my mom’s visit and our impending holiday party, we found yet more stuff left behind by the previous homeowner.

Yesterday, in fact, I found one of those little packages of Kleenex that women keep i their purses. Their was one tissue left inside, and I used it to wipe up some of the dust under the stove. Also, behind the dryer, I found a box of Dryel dryer sheets and stain remover. This was especially unexpected, because I already found a box of Snuggle dryer sheets back there two months ago when I was installing a fan. So…I’m not exactly sure how I missed a box that’s about 8 inches long on each side. Weird.

The big find, however, was on Saturday. I found a large box of toddler clothes.

“How,” you ask, “could you guys possibly have not spotted a box filled with baby clothes for three months?”

Good question.

Here’s the answer:

You know how, above, I mentioned that we never spend any time in that downstairs room? Well, while I was down there installing the new fixture, I had to move some stuff out of my way. In the corner, there was this one very heavy box filled with floor tiles. The previous homeowner left it on purpose so that we could use the tiles to finish the floor down there, if we want. Well, underneath that box was an identical box. Naturally, I assumed it was also tiles. But when I went to lift it, it didn’t weigh 50 pounds. It only weighed about 2 pounds. Then I noticed writing on it:

Mary Kay’s summer clothes 1989 to 1990 18-24 months

Curiosity piqued further, I opened it up. Sure enough, ‘vintage’ baby girl clothes from the first Bush Administration years. Also included were three banana clips:

We decided to contact the former owner to see if he or his (now adult) daughter wanted the clothes, for sentimental reasons. Of course, he’s left plenty of other things here, but everything else was either obviously left on purpose (such as the fireplace tools) or probably had no value to him anyway (such as those dryer sheets). But these were different.

He wrote back today appreciating our thoughtfulness, but said we could do whatever we wanted with them.

Our current plan is to grow Isla into a human that fits into 18-24 month old clothes, and then put them on her. She’ll look totally, like, 80s. It’ll be rad.

Finally, a co-worker sent me this most excellent music video. Take a watch:

Thursday, 15 December 2011

Today is my paternal grandparents’ SIXTY-FIFTH wedding anniversary! Wow. Happy anniversary to them. They’ve been empty-nesters now for about six years, and it appears the lack of children in the home has diminished their love for one another. (Yep, that’s right: from 1949 to 2005 they had at least one child living at home at any given time.)

In other news:

A post-pep rally prank at Rosemount High School (the very same high school that I had the misfortune of attending) featured incest. Yeah, it seems the rally’s organizers had this idea of blindfolding students, then having them receive kisses, then try to guess who kissed them.

And who kissed them?

Their parents.

And, no, it’s not just a peck on the cheek – we’re talking full-tilt kissing here. Here’s the video, and you’ll notice that one mom is on the floor with her son. Another mom takes her son’s hand and moves it onto her ass. Yet another mom concludes the kiss by running her fingers through her son’s hair as if she’s this close (I’m holding my fingers really close together) to tearing off his shirt.

Here’s a City Pages article about it: CLICK HERE. As I commented to a friend on Facebook, Rosemount was a lousy school and a waste of time when I went there (my knowledge and skill base would certainly be no worse, and probably be better, if I was just handed a diploma after ninth grade) – and I see the ol’ shit-hole hasn’t improved one iota.

Friday, 16 December 2011
What happened 238 years ago today?
Come on, don’t you remember?
Well, I can’t say it any better than Mr. Banks in Mary Poppins, so I’ll just quote him:

As the ship lay in Boston harbor, uh, a party of the colonists dressed as Red Indians, uh, boarded the vessel, behaved very rudely, and, and threw all the tea overboard. This made the tea unsuitable for drinking, even for Americans.

Ha! Hilarious!
But more seriously…most of the colonists were not dressed as Indians. The event took the colonists’ desire for greater autonomy from mere words and academia to actual action. An act of protest, it would seem, used to be the very epitome of being an American.

Also today, Jyoti Amge turned 18 years old today (well, yesterday as far as we Central Time Zoners are concerned).

Who is Ms. Amge, you ask?

Ah, I’m so glad you asked. Up until now, she has held the Guinness Record for shortest teenager. Now she holds the record for shortest adult. She’s not quite 25 inches tall, meaning she barely clears the two feet mark, and she’s even shorter than my one year-old daughter Isla, who certainly isn’t tall, even for her age. Anyway, happy birthday, Jyoti, and congrats on your new Guinness entry!

And, while we’re at it – happy birthday to the most influential musician of all time. Thanks for the melodies!

Finally…if you really want to hear an amateur in action, tune in to AM 950 on Sunday at 9:00 in the morning. I’ll be conducting an interview with author Glenn Kleier. MORE INFO HERE.

Monday, 12 December 2011

I was the last person to arrive to a meeting at work today. Technically, I was late, but I was only about two minutes late and so my status for punctuality remains in tact.

However!

Being the last person to arrive meant that the beverage selection was meager. In fact, there were only two cans left in the ice-ridden bin: some form of Mountain Dew and some form of Coke.

And I just couldn’t do it.

I mean, I was thirsty. And I do enjoy having some sort of liquid to accompany my lunch, but I just can not consume Mountain Dew or Coke.

By way of estimation, I’d say I’ve consumed three cans of Mountain Dew in my life – and zero in the past 15 years. I’ve probably had 100 or more cans, glasses, and bottles of Coke, but none in the past 10 years – unless we count Coke’s appearance in various alcoholic drinks.

I’m kind of a beverage snob, in fact, and I believed I’ve touched on this before, but I’ll spell it out here:

-Water is always fine, in any sort of beverage container.

-If it’s not too late in the day (say, after 6:00), I’ll have iced tea. But NOT in or from a can, and not that Nestea shit. Arizona, Tazo, even Snapple are fine.

-Lemonade is great, too, but any lemonade in can or plastic bottle form is guaranteed to be nasty; it’s like drinking sugar water.

-I do like root beers in all formats – from that high quality organic stuff in glass bottles, to a simple can of Mr. Pibb. In fact, I think root beer is the only liquid I can drink from an aluminum can without practically gagging.

-Anything alcoholic is fine, but of course not at work, or if I’m driving, or too early in the day (like, say, before 5AM). I dislike straight-up hard liquor, drinks that are really creamy or coffee-y, and cheap ass beer in a can. If it says “Budweiser” on it…Yuck!

-No coffee

-No soft drinks (unless we include the root beer varieties, noted above)

There. I think that settles it. Now, feel free to offer me something to drink. As for today’s meeting, I went beverage-less; bolting to the water fountain shortly after adjournment.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Click on this: THIS RIGHT HERE, and take this Word Association Study. I had fun with it. According to the site:

On average, an adult knows about 40.000 words. Researchers in psychology and linguistics are interested in how these words are represented mentally. In this large-scale study we aim to build a network that captures this knowledge by playing the game of word associations. You can help us with this project by participating in this short and fun study.

Also: Here’s a photo gallery of protest signs that will be missed if gay rights become law of the land. It includes this hilarious gem:

Ha! Hilarious.

On a completely unrelated note, my wife posted about Isla’s surgery. It uses all the correct terminology that I can never remember, and it includes awesome photos of ureters. HERE’S THE POST.

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

So, today, during Toastmasters, the Table Topics featured a Christmas theme. For those who don’t know, Table Topics is the portion of the meeting where one assigned person has selected a subject unknown to others. He or she then calls on members to deliver 1-2  minute impromptu speeches.

I was in charge of Table Topics about a month ago, and my topic was famous movies. I had the title of popular films written on little cards, and I called on people to come up and pull one out of the hat.

Anyway, today’s topic was, appropriately enough, Christmas. One person got up and pulled out a card that said, “tell us your favorite Christmas gift you’ve ever received.” When it was my turn, my card said, “What is your favorite holiday-themed movie?”

The last person to be called up selected a card that said “Tell us why it’s important to believe in at least the spirit of Santa Claus.”

Yikes. I’m glad I pulled the card about the movie.

Maybe you can ‘blame’ my viewpoint on my Witness upbringing, but I just can not get the idea of Santa Claus. Sure, it’s a cute story, and I don’t mind reading a storybook to my son about Santa, just as I don’t mind reading him a story about the Cat in the Hat.

But I can’t lie to my son and tell him that Santa is real and has all these great powers.

I can’t fathom the idea of purposely transferring the gratitude and appreciation my children have for me onto a pretend character. It would be like if I got my son a bowl of cereal and then he thanked me and I just said, “Hey, it wasn’t me, it was the Cereal Fairy.”

My wife and I make an effort to get Owen to say thank you and to realize the hard work and effort that people put into things – we want him to know that food doesn’t just magically appear on the table and that clothes aren’t dropped down our chimney at night.

But while desiring my son’s love and gratitude may be passed off as selfish, a more insidious aspect is the flat-out lying. Like I’ve heard so many times, you can’t prove Santa isn’t real. That’s true. But like everything else, the burden of proof is on the person making the positive claim. And, just like any other deity, people put forth claims as evidence of Santa’s reality: He’s the one who brings the gifts. He can fit down chimneys. He is the sole owner of a species of flying reindeer. He can make it around the planet – with millions of stops – in a single night. We even know his address: the North Pole, smack in the Arctic Ocean. These are testable, verifiable claims, and as most adults attest, they often had a hard time reconciling Santa’s existence with the facts about the world as they were discovering them.

Why do adults think this is cool / okay / fun for kids? My children are learning about the world, trying to figure out how everything works, and are using the patterns they find to extrapolate even more about the world. Why would I put up a mental road block by saying, “Here’s how the physical world works, but Santa can violate all of that”? Why lie to my kids and stunt their powers of critical thinking?

And for something even scarier:

“He knows when you are sleeping / He knows when you’re awake / He knows if you’ve been good or bad / So you better be good for goodness’ sake”

That is creepy.

On my way home from work this afternoon, I had the misfortune of hearing a radio program in which people called in and offered tips on how to use Santa to get good behavior out of children. Yuck! How about, instead of bribery and lies children, we model the good behavior we’d like to see…starting with being honest.

Why would a parent want their little son or daughter to think some old man watches them sleep at night? Further, why is it his job to reward or punish children according to his standard of morality? Sounds an awful lot like Jehovah/Jesus/Allah/God, if you ask me, so maybe the Santa lie is good conditioning to get the youngsters to buy into the parents’ religion. In any other context, lying like that to one’s children would be considered poor parenting.

Santa doesn’t exist, thank God. Neither do the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, or God. My son knows that, and so do his parents. I’m not gonna lie about it to my kids. And don’t expect me to lie about it in front of your kids, either.

[gets down off soapbox]

Sunday, 11 December 2011

Happy half-birthday to me!

(Hey, if you’ve lived my life, you’d celebrate your half-birthdays, too.) Speaking of that life…

Last night I had the strangest dream. I was sitting in the back seat of a car. There were two people in the front seat: one was my friend Ryan, and the other…well…you know how dreams are…I couldn’t quite identify the person. Like Ryan and I, the third passenger was another ex-Jehovah’s Witness male, in his 30s, and supremely intelligent. I think Ryan was driving but, again, you know how dreams are – the driver switched identities a few times.

The anonymous guy sitting next to Ryan had his window rolled down and his arm resting on the frame. Ryan was driving extremely slow. This was appropriate, since we were on the top level of a parking ramp. The parking ramp was unfamiliar to me, but I instinctively knew that we were in downtown Rochester.

Being an former Witness, the town of Rochester brings to mind one thing: the yearly 3- (and occasionally 4-) day conventions. After 20 years of driving down to Rochester and staying in a downtown hotel for four or five days while I and my fellow Witnesses devoured the town like locusts…well, it’s gotten into my psyche.

Anyway, as Ryan is driving slowly across the parking ramp, a pair of Witnesses (a man and a weaker vessel) walked by, and the man leaned into the open window and asked, “Do you guys know what time it is?”

Ryan responded with the witty retort: “It’s later than you think!” I’m not gonna bother explaining this (unless someone specifically asks), but to an ex-Witness, this is positively hilarious. I instantly joined in with Ryan’s joviality, leaned forward and shouted out to the Witnesses, “They just declared peace and security!”

Ha!

Again, if you know Witness culture (you sad, sad, sap), then you know this is quite funny.

But here’s the real kicker: I said that line – “They just declared peace and security!” – out loud. Yeah, my real self, lying in bed here in St. Paul, said that aloud at four in the morning.

Or did I?

My vocalization caused me to wake up. I was half laughing at how funny my unconscious self is and half worried that I woke up my wife and now she thinks I’m a dork. Maybe I didn’t say anything aloud, thought I. Or maybe it just came out as a bunch of mumbling.

But, no. As my wife confirmed several hours later, I did indeed speak out loud and clear. She thought I was having a nightmare, and that she’d have to rouse me out of my sleep from a disturbing slumber. Instead, she heard me laugh, as well, and concluded that I was having a grand old time in my quasi-conscious state. Or, to put it another way, she feared I was dreaming that it was the end of the world as we know it, but it turned out I felt fine.

Anyway, damn…I even think of funny things to say in my dreams. Also, damn…I am a supreme nerd.