Wednesday, 17 August 2011

So, I really hate talking about this sort of thing, but I’m going to because it annoys the shit out of me…

I’ve ‘closed’ (whatever that means) on a house twice before in my life. Both times, my wife and I had to dig up old papers – such as tax returns and pay stubs – and fax them in to our realtor (or mortgage person or whoever handles the ‘closing’ crap). Then, one morning, we show up at the realtor’s office and there’s a bunch of people there, including someone who ‘does’ loans and the people who are either buying the house we’re selling to them or the people who are selling us the house we’re buying. Then a couple of mind-numbing hours in which I have to scribble something about 500 times on a line that says “buyer” or “name.” It’s a boring procedure so steeped in bureaucracy that there’s even a form they make me sign that informs me there are now less forms to sign (I’m not joking).

But thanks to modern technology, this process has improved! Well, it’s improved for everyone else.

Every week day for the last week – and on several occasions before that, either the realtor or the loan officer or someone who calls herself “The Processor” has emailed Jennifer and me, often more than once a day, requesting that we print out, read, sign, and fax back documents that take up several pages. Man, I’m glad they’re saving so much money on ink and paper! Whatever happened to just showing up on the date of ‘closing’ and signing everything then? As I told Jennifer last night, after printing and faxing close to 100 sheets of paper, I sure hope that when we arrive at ‘closing’ all I’ll have to do is shake hands and swap keys.

Anyway, yesterday I received an email from “The Processor” informing me that I had to go to some website to verify my employment. Since Jennifer handles most of this shit (and since I already know that I’m employed), I just deleted the email.

Today, she wrote back again saying that she needed me to take care of this NOW!

So I clicked on her link (which didn’t work, but I figured out the site she needed me to go to) and, well, I was completely lost. It asked me to enter my employer’s name, then my employee ID number. So far, no problem. Then it asked for my pin number. I didn’t know what it wanted, so I made a few guesses, including the password I use at work and the last 4 digits of my Social Security Number (our realtor mentioned something about that a few days ago). No luck.

So I wrote back to “The Processor” and told her I was unable to get into the site, but that if she wants employment verification, I could send her some pay stubs, or she could call my boss. Apparently, even though this method worked from 1900-2010, it no longer works in this ‘advanced’ age. She replied saying she would need two years of pay stubs, and my HR department is not likely to help since they now pay this third party to verify employment. (Man, it must have been so taxing for HR to have to answer the phone and say, “Yes, James works here, and he has worked here for seven years.” Damn. Those poor people.)

So I went back to the site, and tried to figure out how to get a password. I clicked “Forgot my password” (even though I never had a password to forget). I was then prompted to enter in all my basic info: name, address, phone number, and then they asked me some ‘security’ questions. God, I hate those things…

What was the name of your first pet?

I don’t know. How do I decide that? Is it the animal that lived in the house when I was born, or the fish my parents bought for me when I was 5? Do fish count? Or is my first pet the cat I bought as an adult? I bought two cats that day… which one should I pick?

What is your mother’s maiden name?

Well, that’s easy, but it’s not much of a security question. My mom reverted to her maiden name for about 10 years while she was in between husbands, so almost everyone who knows my mom knows her maiden name.

In what city did your grandmother live?

Which grandma? When? And why is it in past tense? Both of my grandmothers are still alive, and both of them have lived in a dozen cities at least.

Anyway, after answer nine (NINE!) questions like that, the pop-up window closed and told me I was now in the system. The problem is, they never gave me a pin number. So I called the toll free number, pressed “1” for English, and sat on hold…and sat…and sat…and sat. In fact, I was on hold the entire time I wrote this blog post. I finally decided to click “forgot my password” again and this time it asked me a security question. I answered it, and then it prompted me to enter a new password. I got it ‘wrong’ the first two times, ’cause it turns out you can only use numbers, but I finally entered in a password. This then gave me the ‘key’ that “The Processor” needed.

I wrote to her:

Just for the heck of it, my phone is still sitting here on my desk on hold. It’s been 41 minutes and I’m curious how long I would have had to wait.

At least “The Processor” didn’t have to waste her lunch break sitting on hold. I’m expecting the realtor to email me later with instructions on which pen I need to bring with me to ‘closing.’

Monday, 15 August 2011

Today was Owen’s first day in his Egypt class at the Science Museum of Minnesota. Despite initially being anxious about the class, he appears to totally love it now. He regaled first Jennifer and then me with all sorts of facts about King Tutankhamun (or Toot Uncommon, if you prefer). He also expressed his desire to eat at a local Mediterranean restaurant run by a family from Egypt. A few times, he mentioned that things we were talking about reminded him of something that happened in class today.

All in all, he was calmer and easier to deal with than usual.

Jennifer noted that this is how Owen was back when he was in Kindergarten: the structure and the busyness of the school day made him calmer in the evening. “He likes having structure in his life,” she said.

This gave rise to two interesting conversations this evening (well, I suppose a better word would be ‘blog-worthy,’ because really it’s up to you, the reader, to decide if this is interesting or not but, since I am writing about it, it’s undeniably blog-worthy):

First, did Kindergarten ruin him? That is, now that he’s been exposed to the structured environment of a school setting, he seems unable to find something to do with his time on days that lack structure. He constantly says he’s bored, and we have to remind him about things that should be obvious (“go play in your sandbox” or “get out your Legos”). Maybe ‘ruined’ is a strong word. Maybe it’s more like finally getting a glasses prescription: now that he’s experienced life one way, it’s tougher to back the other way. He also really likes to learn new things, and there’s not as much of that during summer break. He was really excited today to learn new things, so we are considering enrolling him in an exclusively themed Egypt school. So, maybe now that he knows what it’s like to have long days of learning, he goes crazy on days when that doesn’t happen. Good thing first grade is starting soon.

Second, Owen’s grandparents were kind enough to pay for the class, partially due to the fact that I whined about the cost some months ago. Coupled with the fact that we’ve been packing lately and bemoaning our deluge of possessions, Jennifer alighted upon a swell idea: we should encourage people to buy Owen experiences instead of things. I’m not sure how to implement this, but I think it’s an interest (well, certainly blog-worthy) thought. Owen gets an avalanche of toys, games, and books all the time: for Easter, his birthday, Halloween, and Xmas. Besides that, my mom shows up with toys for him every time she visits. Heck, he even got a present at his sister’s birthday party!

I certainly don’t want to downgrade these kind acts in any way, and Owen definitely appreciates them, but here are the facts: Sometimes the toy hardly gets used. Other times, it breaks. Frequently, he outgrows the toy. In some cases, we don’t have room for the toy. And, on very rare occasions, the toy is a duplicate or near duplicate of one he already owns (except with crayons: that happens all the time – please, if you want to give Owen the gift of a coloring book, that’s great, but I assure you: he has ample crayons!).

An experience, on the other hand, is awesome even if it is a duplicate (Owen would probably walk to the Children’s Museum if given a ticket, even though he’s been there five or six times already). An experience won’t break, it won’t take up any space in Owen’s room, and he’ll never outgrow the memory. Well, I suppose he might completely forget a specific experience, but at the very least he’ll have a good experience and a fun memory to last a while.

Now, how to implement this…?

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

For the past several months, when I’ve come home from work, if I had any change in my pocket, I handed the money to Owen and told him to go put it in his piggy bank. Today, I just handed it to him and said, “here you go.”

We’re trying to get Owen used to the idea of saving for things and spending his own money. This has been good so far – when we leave to go to IKEA, for example, Owen inevitably says he wants to buy ice cream when we get there. I then ask, “Do you have some money with you?” and then he runs to get a dollar from his drawer.

So, the other day, we were at the Mall of America, and Owen (as he always does) announces that he would like to visit Underwater World (or whatever it’s called this week). Instead of just saying no, I told him that Underwater World is expensive and that I didn’t have the money to do it right now. I suggested that we save up the money and then set aside a few hours one day to go there.

So now whenever I have change, he squirrels it away in a wallet (he has four wallets – see above) in his nightstand drawer. Part of me feels bad; Underwater World isn’t that expensive so maybe I should just take him this weekend. But part of me thinks this is a good opportunity for him. If he manages to save up enough money for us to all go to the aquarium, good for him! And good for us!

If you’d like to read about our other kid, read my wife’s ridiculously cute blog post on Isla’s 12th month RIGHT HERE.

Friday, 12 August 2011

Have you ever noticed how much people just fart around at the beverage/condiment stations at fast food restaurants? This sort of thing always seems to happen.

Today, some co-workers and I paid a visit to Qdoba. The cashier handed me a cup for my drink, and then I walked over to get some iced tea. But first I had to wair for someone who was taking up the whole counter. She held her cup up to get some ice. Then checked her cup to see that there wasn’t enough ice in it. So then she pushed her cup up against the lever to get a little more ice, but evidently those ten pieces of ice were just a tad too many, so she had to sprinkle some onto the drain.

She next stared at the five beverage options (six if you count water), and slowly waved her cup back and forth as if it was a dowsing rod that would lead her to the ideal carbonated drink. She finally began filling the cup with some kind of Coke or Coke derivative. Once the liquid reached to within an inch of the top, however, there was too much foam, so she had to pour that out. This then left room for more liquid – and heaven forbid we not fill our cups to the rim – so she filled the tiny space with more Coke, which created more foam.

She then needed to secure a lid onto her cup. I’m not sure why this is necessary if she was planning on dining in the restaurant (and she was). It’s just a waste of plastic. Are adults really that sloppy that they need a lid on their beverages before sitting down to drink it? My 6 year old son hasn’t drank from lidded containers for years…so maybe he’s just incredibly advanced?

Of course, these lids stick together, so the woman had to pull apart a couple of them in order to get just one. But…guess what…it was the wrong size lid. So she set it down and then repeated the process with lids from another dispenser.

Then there was the matter of the straw, which, for some stupid reason, she couldn’t just grab, toss on her tray, and then walk away. No, she had to remove the wrapper and insert it into the lid while standing their in my way.

Sometimes, when I get tired of waiting, I will begin filling my cup while another person is still gingerly pouring off the foam or other such nonsense. That person usually casts a glance at me as if my behavior is rude. I don’t know, is it? Is it wrong to ‘share’ a beverage filling station with a stranger? I mean, I share elevators with strangers, but maybe this is too much of an affront to people’s space?

This sort of thing has led me to pride myself in my quick uptake at the beverage station. I walk up there, careful to leave room for other users, and just plunge my cup against the beverage of choice. If there is foam, guess what? I don’t care. I can go back and get more to drink later if I want. If I select a beverage that doesn’t taste good, guess what? I don’t care. I can go back and get a different drink later. I don’t need a lid or a straw. Since the drinks are already cold (excepting, sometimes, the tea), I don’t even need ice. In the case of said tea, I will grab a lemon or sugar and toss them on my tray and prepare my drink at my seat, where I’m not hogging the station.

Thanks for listening.

Also —

While at the Sherwin Williams on Snelling Avenue in St. Paul a few weeks ago, I took this picture:

I then sent it to the folks at Apostrophe Abuse. They posted it to their main page. GO HERE TO SEE THAT. They actually posted it a few days ago, but I only became aware of it today.

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Happy Left-Handers’ Day!

We really started packing up stuff in earnest today. There’s a small part of me that likes packing, really. I mean, I hate the idea of stuffing fragile things into boxes and then opening them up in a new location a few weeks later just to see what has broken. I hate, too, that we often find just the right way to fit a framed picture, or a shelf, in a room and then we have to take it down.

However, I do like having to go through everything we own. My chronic complaint about my life is that we all own too much stuff. It’s great to have to dig out every corner of the home and uncover stuff we don’t really need anymore. We threw some stuff in a Goodwill pile, and other stuff went right into the trash. Jennifer is also planning on selling some stuff on Craig’s List.

I sometimes have this idea for a device that sits on your desk and, at any given moment, measures the amount of solid matter in your home. I’m not sure exactly how it would work, but I would somehow have to ‘zero’ it out by first accounting for the walls, floors, and permanent fixtures – such as curtains, ceiling fans, and appliances. The device would be constantly scanning my home for the amount of ‘stuff’ we have. If I brought home something from the store, the number goes up. If I take out the trash, the number goes down.

I’d want it to have the ability to segregate the total number into three smaller numbers: one number would indicate consumables, another would indicate items marked for removal, and another number would indicate everything else. That final number would be the key, of course. I wouldn’t really care how high the consumables number was – bringing home a 96-pack of toilet paper, or some more kitty litter, or groceries, wouldn’t really count as assets since they are not permanent fixtures, but are designed to be consumed. The stuff marked for removal, too – such as our recycle bin – would account for the second number, and also wouldn’t really be my concern. But I think it would be fun to try and keep that final number below a certain level.

This is all very preliminary, you understand.

Sunday, 14 August 2011

Today we spent several hours at Fort Snelling State Park. Jennifer tried to take photos of Isla, who was largely uncooperative. Own and I, meanwhile, played at the beach. I had assumed Owen wanted to play in the water, but it turned out he wanted to play in the sand building useless canals. We did not bring his sand toys with us, so we ended up purloining spades and shovels from distracted children.

Here’s the end result of his engineering handiwork:

Basically, the lake water enters the canal at the top of the photo, sloshes around through the channels, then comes back out. Owen was hoping some fish would swim through it, but in typically snobbish fish-fashion, they would not comply. Jerks.

Later the four of us reconvened for a picnic in the shade. We began by sitting on a blanket, ’cause that’s how picnics are supposed to be enjoyed, but, finding our area being taken over by ants (they were there first, I suppose), we removed to a nearby bench. Jennifer noted that this is probably why picnic benches were invented.

After supping, we took a short walk through one of the trails. We were looking for some picturesque places to photograph Isla. She, however, continually balked at being set on the ground or made to stand in grassy areas. Oh well.

Thursday, 11 August 2011

In Ames, Iowa today, eight Republican Presidential candidates took to the stage to explain why they would be the best person for the job.

They also answered questions from the audience:

The panel’s moderator, Byron York, asked Michele Bachmann:

In 2006 when you were running for Congress, you described a moment in your life when your husband said you should study for a degree in tax law. You said you hated the idea, and then you explained, ‘But the Lord said, Be submissive. Wives, you are to be submissive to your husbands.’ As president, would you be submissive to your husband?”

The question garnered boos from the audience, but Bachmann thanked York for the question (as she should).  Bachmann’s response was typical of bible-literalists when presented with uncomfortable passages from their favorite book: She spun the words into a new interpretation that suited her belief-system. Basically, she said that the word “submission” means “respect,” and, yes, she does respect her husband.

First let’s talk about her definition. It’s bullshit. I mean, if that’s how she really defines the word, then I guess I can’t argue, but the reality is it’s just an apologetic’s wrangling to explain an archaic text in a modern world.

In Ephesians 5:24, the misogynistic Apostle Paul says that “wives must be submissive to their husbands in everything” (New International Version).  If Paul had meant ‘respect,’ he would have said respect, as he did in verse 33. Actually, some English versions of the bible render the Greek word used here as “reverence” and some render it as “fear.” And, no, it’s not just a translator’s preference – Paul really did use two different words here. In verse 33 he used phobetai (from whence we glean “phobia,” incidentally), while in verse 24 he used huppotassetai, which literally means “setting under.” Paul used no such word to define a husband’s role. So while I believe – and hope – that Bachmann has respect for her husband, according to the bible, she must also be in submission to him.

Some people are claiming that York’s question was sexist, such as this site here, in which writer Miranda Nelson says the question made her vomit in her mouth a little. Nelson (who makes it clear she’s not a Bachmann supporter) says: “I’m dying to know how Hilary Clinton would have taken the moderator to task for such an inappropriate question.”

Um, I don’t know how Clinton would handle it, but she probably would say something along the lines of: “I don’t take the bible’s words as literal truth, so I’m not sure why you’re asking me this question.”

See, the question was asked, not because York is sexist, but because Bachmann is an Evangelical Christian fundamentalist who has made her faith part and parcel of her political career and her current campaign. More so than anyone else on that panel, Bachmann fully embraces the Holy Bible as a handbook for day-to-day living and she makes no secret about this.

When Kennedy was running for President, he had to field questions relating to his faith, too. He was a Roman Catholic and a very real concern voters held was that electing JFK might be like electing the Pope. Asking Kennedy’s thoughts on this matter was not sexist, nor was it unfair that no one asked his main rival, Richard Nixon, if he would be submissive to the Pope if he was elected President. Asking Nixon would have been a waste of time, since Nixon was not Catholic but Quaker.

So, it’s a good question: if Bachmann is selected by voters to be the next Commander-in-Chief, would her husband really be the one in charge? Nelson also asks: “Were any of the seven men standing up there asked who really wears the pants in the family?”

Well, no, they weren’t. For one thing, most of the other candidates are not Evangelical Christians. But more importantly, we already know what their answer would be: of course they would be in charge! And they would be in charge for reasons besides their faith: They would be the President! So it wouldn’t matter. If, for example, Mitt Romney was elected President, his wife Ann wouldn’t be the de facto President telling her husband what to do: she would be in submission to him as a citizen of this country regardless of her (or Mitt’s) faith. Likewise, if Hillary Clinton becomes President, Bill would be in submission to her as a citizen of this country regardless of his (or Hillary’s) faith. But Bachmann’s case is like Kennedy’s: is a vote for Michele essentially a vote for Marcus? Just as Kennedy – due to his faith – had to answer and explain that, no, a vote for him was not a vote for the Pope (and he did a damn good job of it, too), Bachmann should expect to do likewise in view of her religiosity.

York’s question related to sexism only in that Bachmann subscribes to a sexist holy book. And that could have implications for American voters. If she really believes the bible is the literal word of some deity, then we need to get Marcus on stage to hear how he will be leading his submissive wife during her 4 years as Chief Executive.

Monday, 8 August 2011

This evening, the five of us (my mom is staying at our place right now) watched the film Benji. I saw the film years ago and had only a vague recollection of it. Jennifer and I thought it would be a good family film to watch – tame enough for the kids + starring a dog so my mom would like it.

Turns out, it is a good family film. It even bills itself as such, the words “A family film from Joe Camp” appearing on screen both before and after the film. However, There’s this one scene where one of the thugs kicks Benji’s ‘girlfriend’ Tiffany. The poor dog looks like she only weights about 8 pounds, so it doesn’t take too much force from his boot to scoot her across the room. She whimpers, slams into a wall, then just lies there.

This came as kind of an upsetting shock to some members of our viewing party. We tried to say it wasn’t that bad – that this was just a movie and the real dog wasn’t hurt and that Tiffany (the character) would be fine by the end of the film. The problem is, it’s still an upsetting visual. Three seconds of upsetting footage in an hour and a half long movie isn’t so bad. What made it worse, though, is that this scene is immediately followed by a segment of Benji running for help. The segment is largely in slow motion, with dramatic music playing, and while the hero runs, we are shown several quick shots of, apparently, what Benji is thinking. And what is he thinking? He’s recalling that his friend Tiffany was just kicked in the leg. So, we get to see her kicked in the leg about 5 more times. Yikes. Pretty brutal. I imagine that even if I was just watching the film alone, I would probably think, “Alright, enough already with the dog abuse scene.”

All in all, however, it was a fun little film to watch. I opened up my list of films I’ve seen and saw that I had previously given it a rating of 6 years ago. I decided to leave it at that.

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

This morning, my wife took Isla to Children’s Hospital in St. Paul. Isla had a fever, and a few incidents from the last couple of days led us to believe she might have a bladder infection.

While there, the doctor said that Isla would need to be catheterized. My wife, knowing that this can be a traumatic procedure for little children, requested that Isla be sedated. The doctor said that this was not a good idea, as it carried some risks with it.

“What kind of risks?” my wife asked.

“Well…death!” the doctor said slowly and ominously.

Okay…how stupid is that? Is that how doctors operate these days (excuse the pun)? They just state the most extreme, least likely risk for any procedure they don’t feel like doing? What if a doctor tells me they need to draw blood, and I ask what the risk are – would they say, “Well…death.” I mean, it’s true, right? There is a risk that I could die from getting a blood sample drawn. Or maybe Jennifer shouldn’t even have taken Isla into the hospital because, you know, leaving the house and driving into downtown carries the risk of death. Certainly the risk is exponentially increased from just staying home.

Anyway, the doctor (in what surely made the insurance company proud) finally relented and agreed to have nitrous oxide administered. Jennifer and Isla had to wait approximately 40 minutes until a laughing gas specialist arrived on site. The nurses ended up preferring performing the procedure on a sedated baby, as they didn’t have to fight against a kicking, screaming baby, or even just a fidgety baby. They also drew blood, which was easier than usual as the oxide widened Isla’s veins. Isla, meanwhile, looked loopy and kept lifting her feet in the air, evidently under the belief that she was floating.

The doctor, pleased that everything went so well for the staff and the patient, then asked my wife to write a letter to the hospital board of directors telling them how successful sedation was and that, in an effort to minimize trauma, the staff should suggest it as an appealing option.

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Today I delivered my sixth speech in Toastmasters. My speech was titled “The 100” and in it, I discussed Michael Hart’s awesome book The 100: A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons in History.

I first mentioned how compelling the idea of such a list is, and that creating such a list is more complicated than we might think at first. Next, I explained the difference (as set forth by Hart) between widespread influence and depth of influence (using Jerry Seinfeld and Joseph Smith as examples).

The bulk of my presentation was given to explaining Hart’s “ground rules.” I numbered them one through four:

First: only real people are eligible. In some cases, I noted, this is obvious. Mickey Mouse is influential, but he’s not real. But in other cases, Hart has to make an educated guess. Was Aesop real? How about Homer?

Second, we have to know who the person was. Again, sometimes this is easy. Who invented the telephone? That’s easy. But who invented the wheel? If, indeed, it was invented by a single person, that person is of monumental influence. But, unfortunately, we just don’t know who it was. So, they don’t count.

Third, the people on the list need to be on there for being influential. Not great. To illustrate the difference, I noted Hart’s admission that he is disgusted at having to place Adolf Hitler on his list, but he reminds his readers that whether someone’s influence is positive or negative, it still counts as influence.

Fourth, we have to consider that a major historical event is not usually the work of a single person. Hart received much criticism for not including the developers of the computer, but he replied that no one individual had overriding influence and, thus, none of them attain top 100 status. For that reason, there’s no one listed who helped with the development of firearms, the women’s liberation movement, or the evolution of Hinduism. Lots of people contributed – which is great for us – but bad for them in regards making it onto this list.

I next called up a slide listing the top ten from the list of 100, and I gave my thoughts on this portion of the list. Here are the top ten:

1. Muhammad
2. Isaac Newton
3. Jesus Christ
4. Buddha
5. Confucius
6. St. Paul
7. Ts’ai Lun
8. Johann Gutenberg
9. Christopher Columbus
10. Albert Einstein

I told the audience that my first reaction upon seeing this list was that Jesus should be #1. Christianity, after all, is bigger than Islam, and it’s been around longer. But then I read the book. Hart notes that Muhammad was also a supremely successful military leader. More importantly, the origins of Christianity need to be divided between a few people – most notable Jesus and Paul (who falls at #6).

It’s funny, a lot of criticism I read about the book is that Jesus is not #1. Most of these people haven’t read the book, such as this doofus who claims the book is biased for not putting Jesus at #1. His argument is that the calendar is based on Jesus, so that should be influence enough. This is beyond stupid. Just because later humans decided to base the calendar on Jesus’ birth has little to do with Jesus’ actual influence. For that matter, perhaps Julius Caesar should be placed at #12, because 1/12th of the year is named after him.

I also told the audience that another thought I had upon seeing this list was: “Who the heck is Ts’ai Lun?”

I then added: “I had never heard of Ts’ai Lun until I read this book. But I read the chapter about him and I agree with Hart – Lun does belong in the top ten. Do you want to know who he was? You’ll have to read the book.” That got a few laughs.

I then said that I respect Einstein and, indeed, of all the people in the top ten, he’s the one I would most like to meet (for one thing – he would speak my language!). However, even after reading Hart’s argument, I still don’t think he belongs in the top ten. Top 100, yes, but not top 10.

I told everyone that I hope I had whetted their appetite for reading the book and, should they ever read it, to please let me know so we could do lunch together and discuss the merits of Hart’s selections.