Verbisaurus Blogicus

Tuesday, 05 June 2012

So, I am once again capable of listening to audiobooks in my car again.

Actually, I never lost the capability. As has happened a dozen times in the past, technology marched triumphantly into the future, while I stood here, in the present, shaking my fist and cursing whoever and whatever passed me by.

In the early days (where “early days” is defined as “approximately 2001-2009”), I rented books on tape from the local libraries. Ah, those were some good times! Driving to college or to work, or from one to the other, getting lost in a great story regardless of what else was going on or how bust I was…

But as those early days progessed, I noticed an unfavorable development: the number of books on tape was dwindling. By 2008, I estimate that 95% of all cassette tape books at the library were on one of three topics:

1) Empower yourself in the business world!

2) Learn this language!

3) An epic tale of romance, romance, and romance!

…Yeah, so not really much that I wanted to listen to.

The libraries were moving towards books on CD.

I wasn’t really excited about this. Primarily because my car does not have a CD player. But also because CDs don’t hold their place. See, when I listen to a cassette, as soon as I eject it, or shut off the car, it stops right where it is. But with CDs, I have to find my location everytime. A few co-workers have told me that they have audio systems in their cars that hold the spot on the CDs for them. I call those co-workers ‘overpaid.’

I used to have a tape adapter, too. It plugged into a Discman, and it allowed me to listen to my music collection (which is mostly CDs). But, eventually, the Discman pooped out on me, and I think the adapter broke, too.

Anyway, I’ve finally caught up with 2012. Well, to the extent necessary. Using an Amazon.com credit – which I received by selling a textbook to them – I bought a new Discman and adapter.

Today I began listening to The Swerve: How the World Became Modern, by Stephen Greenblatt.

Wednesday, 06 June 2012

This afternoon, I left work early to attend a program put on by Owen’s first grade class. The class recited several poems, then each student presented a brief book report endorsing a book they particularly enjoyed during this year. Then the adults got to look at samples of their kids writing and drawing from the year. There were snacks and beverages, too.

When I got to the school, I joined up with my wife, daughter, and mom-in-law. Owen thus had four guests, which I believe was the most any student had.

In contrast, several students had no guests. This was kind of strange to me: is there no one in those kids’ lives who can find 45 minutes out of their day to show up at the school? As it is, I rearranged some tasks at work, arrived at work early, then left work early, just so I could be there on time. I realize not every parent has a decent supervisor, fleixble hours, the autonomy to come and go as they choose, or oodles of sick and vacation time to squander on whatever suits their family…but, come one – doesn’t anyone in the kids family have some mid-day availability? Isn’t grandpa retired? Or what about an older sibling who’s already done with school for the day?

To paraphrase what I said to my wife and mom-in-law after we left: No one sits on a rocking chair on their porch, thinks back to fifty years earlier when their children were young and says, “You know, I never should have left work early that one day.”

Saturday, 02 June 2012

My sister and her husband came over today. They really love this restaurant that’s about three blocks from our house, so we all walked there. Then afterward, they took some vegetation from our yard.

The previous homeowner, in his infinite foresight, decided that the best way to up the value of his property was to landscape the shit out of the yard. I’m not sure why he didn’t think, “hey, maybe I should rennovate the basement,” or “maybe I should fix the porch so it’s not sliding toward the river,” but, he didn’t. Instead, he thought: “you know what prospective home buyers hate? Yard. So I’ll rip up the grass and do a quarter-ass job of putting in all manner of shrubbery.”

I suppose that is a great idea, if you’re going to sell your place to a couple of senior citizens. But if you’re going to sell to a family, with kids, then they’re gonna want more land, and less oversized bushes. And, yes, I realize this means more area to mow, but I don’t mind telling Owen to do it. Not at all.

So, today, my sister and her husband took five bags full of mulch and at least five bushes with them.

I’d like to say the yard is looking better but, in fact, it’s probably looking worse. But I think that’s just a stage it’s going through on its way toward re-beautification.

Sunday, 03 June 2012

 Today Owen and I drove to the compost heap (which is what we call it, despite the fact that I’m sure it has a better name). I stuffed ten bags – of both the large plastic variety and the tall, leaf sort – into the car, which is quite difficult to do when there are two child car seats in the back taking up space already. I managed to squeeze two into the front passenger spot, and five into the trunk. I squished one right on Isla’s car seat, and another in the middle in the back. I shoved the last one right behind the driver’s seat, which meant Owen used it as a footstool during our drive.

At the heap, I extracted the organic matter from our vehicle, while Owen either dumped out the contents(in the cae of the paper bags) or ripped open the bags (the plastic ones) and let the leaves, sticks, weeds, clippings, and roots splay out onto the ground.

A woman pulled up next to us in her pick-up truck and began shoveling compost off her bed. She was friendly, saying to me: “I see you’ve got your helper with you!” (This is something that everyone says when they see either Owen or Isla standing, walking, squating, interfering, annoying, or genuinely helping either me or Jennifer when we’re doing stuff outside.) I made some comment about Owen enjoying the work, and she said, “That’s a blessing!” I smiled and nodded and mumbled something. I wasn’t sure what she meant – was it a blessing that Owen liked to help? Was she saying God or Jesus or some deity was manipulating my son’s brain so that he enjoyed engaging in physical activity?

Later, the compost heap’s version of a State Trooper came by and said hello, then he moved on to the woman unloading her pick-up truck and said, “Woe, you’ve got quite a lot unload there!” This was especilly funny because the woman, though slightly shorter than me, was approaching 400 pounds. Her arms were easily of greater circumference than my thighs, a fact easily verified by her courtesy to wear a sleeveless shirt.

Anyway, she kept working away and said, “Yes, I’m gettin’ it done with God’s help.”

I was going to say, “Hey, we have something in common! Looks like God helps you as much as he helps me!”

But I didn’t. Instead, I just thought, “I’m gonna blog about this.”

Yeah, I think that a lot.

Monday, 04 June 2012

 Today, Jennifer scored some free sod.

Turns out, someone who lived nearby just piled some near the curb and posted online for would-be sodders to come and get some.

This is good timing because, as I noted above, we are removing large samples of flora and attempting to replace them with lots of small samples.

The funny thing is, this doesn’t appear to be of the same species as the rest of the grass. So, if you come to visit, except to see rectangular-shaped portions of our lawn to be noticeably different than the rest. This is just fine with me, though. I don’t want to promote a monculture; I think the variety helps with the health of all the plants in the yard. I suspect that after a few summers, the foreign grass will meld with the natives and it will seemless fade from one variety to another.

I suspect that, just like the United States, this will take at least 300 summers.

Oh well. No rush.

Friday, 01 June 2012

It’s that time of year again..Jehovah’s Witnesses are gathering en masse for their yearly District Conventions. If you live here in Minnesota and you’re obscenely hard-up for entertainment, you can head down to Rochester on the 29th of this month for the first of three days of peace, love, and music at the Mayo Civic Center.

Of course, the most only interesting thing is: what are the new releases going to be?

You could travel down to Rochester, like I said, but I’ll spare you the cost of a hotel room and a polyester suit: There are three new releases. The first two are brochures.

One is called Good News from God. I mean, Good News from God!

The “good news” is that God wants you to live forever as his eternal servant. If you don’t want to be his eternal servant, he’ll kill you soon. Oh – and he’s gonna kill nearly everyone you know, too. But he doesn’t want to kill you. I repeat: that’s the good news.

The other brochure is Who are Doing Jehovah’s Will Today?

In case any of the convention attendees are not totally sure what the answer to the titular question is, the Watchtower Society made it really easy to find out by putting the answer on the cover at least eight times.

The brochure answers lots of burning questions you probably have about God’s will-doers, like “Why do we dress up for our meetings?” (page 11), “How is our worldwide work financed?” (page 27), and “Why do Witnesses shun their own family members?” (page oh – look at that – they didn’t really put this question in their brochure).

But, for me, the highlight of this year’s convention is the release of a new DVD, titled Listen, Obey, and Be Blessed. It’s for kids. It’s animated. And it teaches them to obey. It also features Sparklock, the Dark Lord of the Elementary School Playground.

Sparlock. No, not Spurlock. Sparlock.

Sparlock is a tool of the Devil, as his goatee clearly indicates. You can explicit proof of Sparlock’s demonism in this still from the movie: Little Caleb’s mom asks him if wants to be disobedient like Adam and Eve, and Caleb immediately begins imagining a serpent descending from the dining room chandelier:

If you want a full synopsis of the children’s video, THEN GO READ THIS. If you want to watch the video, good luck to you – the Watchtower Society (who, ostensibly want to spread their message), have ordered every uploaded version of their masterpiece in technological achievement removed from the internet.

Oh – but here’s a fun clip. It’s from “Lesson #2” on the DVD, titled “Obey Jehovah.” It features Sparlock. Have I mentioned that Sparlock has quickly risen on my list of best fictional characters of all time?

Obey Jehovah, Caleb!

(Clicking on the above link will open another tab. The video will play in that tab.)

Wednesday, 30 May 2012

So, last week, while wrestling with Hamline’s “convenient” on-line bill paying system, I also experienced full system failure of my hardrive at work. This is the third time that’s happened at work and the second time in the last 9 months. The IT guy, who did a great job of reimaging my laptop, attributed the issue to the anti-virus software. I asked the obvious question: “Can you just leave off the anti-virus software?” But he just chuckled at me like I’m some sort of Mac-using computer half-wit (Bingo!).

I lost about ten hours worth of work I had done over the past couple of days, and I lost a lot of non-essential files – for example, most of my Toastmasters speech outlines. Wisely, I back my stuff up regularly on the shared drive, so I was able to get most of my stuff back – even if it wasn’t always the newest version. I was surprised to find I had once dumped my entire iTunes library on there a few months back, so I was able to recover about 99% of my music. I also had a file titled “Favorites.” I didn’t know what this was, so I opened it (always a good policy when it comes to work computers).

Turns out, it was a file from about 4 years ago that I had saved of my favorite online sites. I clicked on each link to see if it was a link I still wanted. In some cases, the link was useful, but I could have figured out how to get there again even without the helpful link. Like, yeah, I think I could have found Wikipedia and YouTube even without the saved link. Other links were really helpful, like the one that took me to where I have to track my time at work, and the one where I can submit medical receipts for pretax dollars. Some of the links were defunct, and others were no longer relevant to my job.

But then, today, I clicked on this one: Jenz Daily Pics.

Wow! Did that bring back memories. I don’t think I’d been to that site in over four years.

It’s a site my wife maintained for one year: from July 1, 2006 to June 30, 2007. She took one picture a day and uploaded it to the site. It was fun to see all the different things we did that year, and to see how much Owen grew. In some ways, it was a good year for her to photograph, because, like I said, Owen grew so much, and we had two fun cats, and we did a lot of home improvements. In other ways, it was kind of a downer year – we lost a lot of friends that year (you’ll notice there’s not many in the pictures), and we didn’t go out of town all year (well, there was a trip to Rochester, Minnesota and another to Hudson, Wisconsin, but nothing big).

I scrolled through all the pictures and read all the comments. When I got to the picture for January 14, 2007, I came across her picture titled…

Is there anything cuter than this?

The answer is no…there’s not. Here’s the picture–>

So innocent, so pure. Memories of young boy, a sweater, a dining room chair, a house, and a hard drive that was.

Thursday, 31 May 2012

I am ending this very busy, ambitious, and eventful month on a high note. But first, some back story…

Back in October – or maybe it was September? – Owen and I were at the St. Paul Corner Drug Store for our weekly treat of ice cream. On the shelf to the left of the soda fountain were copies of the 2012 St. Paul Almanac. Intrigued, I grabbed a copy and thumbed through it.

“Hey,” I thought, ” I could write an essay for this thing.”

So I did.

Actually, I first got myself a copy of the 2010 and 2011 Alamanacs. I read some of the essays in those editions and then looked for more information online, and found THIS SITE.

The site’s been updated since then, but back in the fall of 2011, it featured a call for submissions for their 2013 edition. The deadline was December 15th, and the site said that if a submission is accepted for publication, authors will be notified by June 1, 2012.

Well, they waited until (almost) the last minute: at 10:05 this evening, I checked my email and saw that one of my pieces was accepted. This is really cool! These almanacs are really fun, they’re local, and they’re professionally made. Also, I get paid for my submission. That’s really exciting because, up until now, most of my payment has been in the form of free copies, meals, and hearty handshakes.

The only problem is, I submitted two pieces, and the email I received merely congratulated me on getting one accepted. So…I don’t know which piece they liked. Meh. Oh well. I’ll find out soon enough. And I’ll save the other essay and resubmit it later this year.

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Ever since the Minnesota Twins began playing at their new stadium – the one with the stupid name (not to be confused with the one with the really stupid name or the one with the insanely stupid name) – I’ve wanted to attend a game.

The thing is, though, I hate driving in Minneapolis, especially downtown, and I hate finding and paying for parking even more. I also wanted to go with someone because, you know, attending ball games is kind of a social activity. I was also hoping someone else would be more comfortable going through the trouble of purchasing the tickets and locating our seats and all that extranneous stuff that goes along with attending a game.

So, I’ve asked around. Anytime someone told me they had season tickets, I’d say, “Hey, I’d like to go with you sometime.” And anytime I saw people frequently posting pictures online of themselves at the Twins’ Stadium, I’d ask, “Hey, next time you go, can I join you?” And if I knew people who got discount tickets from their employer, I’d subtely hint that I’d like to get in on that discount ticket action.

Alas, it turns out that my son and I must be the two worst people to bring with to a ballgame because, after two seasons of trying, we received exactly zero invites.

So I decided to be a little bit more proactive.

I’ll spare you the details, but today, accompanied by my friend Eric and his two sons, Owen and I finally attended a game at the new Twins stadium. This was Owen’s first time attending any professional sporting event. Our seats were high up, but the view was good, and we stayed warm under a blanket and fleece jackets Eric brought for us (see why I don’t want to go alone?). I bought Owen a cup of hot chocolate then, recovering from the shock of paying for that hot chocolate, I bought him some fries and pop-corn. I also let him pick out a souvenir from the gift shop (thankfully he did not opt for the autographed jersey). Eric got all the boys a set of baseball cards, too.

I also bought Owen an official scorecard. I helped him fill in the players’ names and showed him where to find the players’ positions and numbers. I tried figuring out how to accurately track the hits, runs, balls, strikes, and outs; but I am a nerd, after all, and so we contented ourselves with merely writing down the score after each inning.

And, for several innings, the only thing Owen wrote down were zeroes. During the sixth inning, he got to write down a “1,” but that was for the visiting team. In the seventh inning, he got to write down another “1.” Again, it was for the opposing team. I guess they’re not called the “Athletics” for nothing.

Owen kept shouting “You guys can do it!” whenver a Twin was at bat and “You did a good job!” whenever they got a player from Oakland out. He asked me about 50 times, “Do they still have a chance to win?” Yes, I assured him, they have a chance to win, but it’s not a very big chance. When a Twin got on base and the crowd cheered, Owen asked if they scored a point. Or a touchdown. Whatever it’s called.

In the meantime, I tried to keep him happy with other fun aspects of attending a ball game: I pointed out the clock, and Owen enjoyed seeing how far past his bedtime it was. When they played that one tune, I told Owen to pump his fist forward and say “Charge!” and when they played those three beats from “We Will Rock You,” I showed Owen how to stomp his feet twice, then clap once. And when they played the opening bars to John Fogerty’s “Centerfield…” um…I just thought, “Hey, that’s John Fogerty’s ‘Centerfield!'”

We shouted and whistled for our team and, during the 7th inning, we stood up, I put my hand on Owen’s shoulder, and we swayed and sang “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

Eventually, during a scoreless 8th inning, Eric said his sons were tired, and he and his kids left. I asked Owen if he was tired, but that’s a little like asking me if I’m sick of drinking tea. So we stayed. The sky was black, and the air was cold. We sat in our seats huddled under our blanket. I put my arm around Owen, more to keep us warm than to assure him that we can still have a good time even if our team stinks. We waited out the inevitable for the next 45 minutes.

When the Twins received their first out, then their second, I silently bemoaned their performance: I had not entertained any notion that they would win but – come on! – couldn’t you guys at least score one run so my son doesn’t have to write his ninth zero in a row?

“Do they still have a chance to win?” he asked.

I chuckled. “Yeah, they do. This is their last chance, though. The guy at third base has to run home, and at least one other player has to run home, too.”

“And then they will win?”

“No. Then they’ll tie it. And then they’ll get more chances to win.” Owen slumped.

Just as I was explaining our team’s gloomy prospects, Josh Willingham connected with the ball. “Wow,” I said, commenting on the loud pop of the bat. Then I sat up. Owen was looking at his scorecard, but I quickly nudged him back to the action: “Look Owen, look! The ball’s going way up! That guy on third base will get home!”

“Yay!”

“Let’s stand up, come on, everyone else is standing!” Then I pointed at the arcing ball. “Loook! Look – it’s going way way over there. Oh, wow, look how far it’s going!”

Owen laughed. “Yay! Good job you guys! I knew you could do it!”

We threw off our blanket and started cheering and jumping up and down. “Where did the ball go?” Owen shouted above the crowd. 

“It went way over there, past the fence, the other guys can’t even get it! The Twins are gonna win, buddy! They’re gonna win!”

We shifted our gazes and watched the remaining two runners round the bases to home and we laughed as the team mobbed their teammates at home plate. Owen was cheering and giggling with delight. After three and a half hours, those ten seconds were the best part of being a dad all evening. I handed Owen the pencil he dropped and showed him where to write a “3.”

As we boarded the escalators to descend from our upperdeck, Owen said, “See? That’s why we had to stay the whole time! I told you we had to stay the whole time!”

“Yes, buddy, you were right.” I patted his head. The nearby usher smiled.

A boy and his dad – apparently the last two people you would ever want to bring with you to a Twins game. 

Thank you Josh and the other Twins for a great evening. And thank you Owen. Go Twins!