I got an answer to a question I didn't even know I had.

My birthday was pretty uneventful. We'd had a nice meal and some cupcakes (hey, we've got kids) to celebrate on Sunday.

On the actual day, though, nothing much happened. I was glad to get a call from Dad, of course. And my investment company sent me a beautiful card AND called me. Damn, don't they know I don't have any money?

So the highlight of my day was... Krav Maga? First day of advanced abnormal psych class? Chatting with classmates afterwards?

I didn't even take a nap.

***

Had another "ah ha!" moment in the aforementioned class. I mean, it was the first one and all, but here and there in this program things click, things make sense. I got an answer to a question I didn't even know I had.

***

I've been watching the mob mentality at work online a bit lately. Not going into specifics, but you know, there's a group of folks out there who are gleefully casting misery and woe at a peer of mine. And though I'm going to sidestep the issue of whether they're right or wrong, you know, the utter lack of class and the reckless disregard of the fact that there's a HUMAN on the receiving end of all this... it saddens me.

***

So, 38.

38.

Currently I have:

A sore calf
A knee that's been barking for a couple days
A perpetually sore shoulder
Sore abs and obliques (oh wait, that's good pain from working out. Still, I'm going to put a voodoo curse on Ken for handing me that gizmo...)
A sore place in my back

Maybe I should give up martial arts and take up professional napping.

***

That is all.

Rainy Monday Notes

Gonna keep it fairly brief.

***

I had the pleasure of meeting the Ultimate Fighter's Travis Lutter yesterday. It's not like we had a particularly meaningful conversation or anything, but he was a polite, nice man, very genuine and easy to talk to. I erred on the side of caution and referred to him as Sensei, which he said wasn't necessary. I hope we meet again.

***

I turn 38 tomorrow. I've had a number of early birthday wishes, and I thank you all. I'll actually be spending the day alone, mostly. Kelli will be in class during the day, and I'll be in class at night. I'll go to Krav Maga at lunch, but really I won't be doing anything that'd look like celebrating.

***

Still no official word on the job. Might call them this afternoon. How long does it typically take for UA results to come back?

***

I dreamed about water, about a variation of the time my Dad's den flooded when we were kids.

Lo and behold I woke up to an ever-so-rare rainy day. It's... glorious.

***

Last night's Intervention, Christy. What a mess! A gleefully destructive, willful, cruel, unmotivated meth/alcohol addict living in squalor by day, stripping by night. The intervention had a moment of hope, but ultimately proved to be a failure.

***

Time to hit the grocery store. Be good.

Friiiiiiday!

Love me some Friday, man.

***

So, how about that fight on TUF4 last night? And when did Edwin Dewees’ nickname change from “Babyface” to “Bamm Bamm”…?

Despite the head cut that bled profusely, he manhandled Gideon Ray. Yeah, Dewees seemed a bit flustered about the injury in the second round, but I thought he still fought well enough to win that one. I disagree that a “sudden victory” third round was really necessary.

***

So… has anyone heard the Muse? I’ve read a couple reviews that have me intrigued…

***

The Rangers finally pulled one out against the lowly Devil Rays. Seems Texas was in serious jeopardy of leaving St. Pete having been felled by the mighty bat of… Jorge Cantu?

Believe it.

***

Got a great compliment from a fellow KM student. She’s tough, one of the gutsiest, most hard-working students there I’d say. As we wrapped up our circuit training in kickboxing, I suddenly heard her telling me, “You’ve gotten much tougher since you started coming here.”

Jigga what?

(Yes I stole that…)

She pointed out that when I’d first arrived we’d worked out together on some knife defenses, and that I was tentative and struggled with the workouts in general. Now that I’ve been working hard for about six months on this stuff I’m showing some results.

I’m all kinds of flattered.

***

My classes start tomorrow. Looks to be a good semester. I’m in advanced abnormal psych and group counseling. I got a text message from a classmate last night: “Where are you?” Uh… I’m not IN the Thursday class…

…am I? Had to check my schedule just to be sure.

***

I still, STILL do not have official job offer. Kinda leaves us in a holding pattern.

***

I heard things are just going all to hell at one of my evil former places of employment. Closed-door meetings, HR involvement, back-stabbing… that’s exactly how it was when I was there, and often I was in the middle of it.

Gotta say that I feel some sense of vindication knowing that this stuff continues despite the departure of yours truly, who’d been labeled a problem child.

***

Ya’ll take care.

Time Killer

HAVE YOU EVER?
(X) Smoked a cigarette
( ) Crashed a friend's car
( ) Stolen a car
(x) Been in love
(x) Been dumped
(5 ) Shoplifted --once, when I was five... just like in that Jane's Addiction song. I got caught too.
( ) Been fired
(x) Been in a fist fight
(x) Snuck out of your parent's house --shoot, I invented this!
(x) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) Been arrested
( ) Gone on a blind date

( ) Lied to a friend
(x ) Skipped school
( ) Seen someone die
(x) Been to Canada
(x) Been to Mexico
(x) Been on a plane
( ) Purposely set a part of yourself on fire
(x) Eaten sushi
(x) Been skiing --on the water, yes
(x) Been at a concert
(x) Taken painkillers
(x) Love someone or miss someone right now
(x) Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
( ) Made a snow angel --snow and I don't get along so well
( ) Had a tea party --no, but I have a coffee party most every morning. Having one right now in fact. Whee!
(x) Flown a kite
(x) Built a sand castle
(x) Gone puddle jumping
(x) Played dress up --Heaven help me, it's true
(x) Jumped into a pile of leaves
( ) Gone sledding
( ) Cheated while playing a game
(x) Been lonely
(x) Fallen asleep at work/school
( ) Used a fake ID
(x) Watched the sun set
( ) Felt an earthquake
( ) Slept beneath the stars
(x) Been tickled --Uh... my sister left this blank... I call bullshit!
(x) Been robbed once at gunpoint Does knifepoint count?
(x) Been misunderstood
(x) Petted a reindeer/goat/kangaroo OR jackalope (goat)
(x) Won a contest
(x) Run a red light/stop sign
( ) Been suspended from school
( ) Been in a car crash?
( x) Had braces
(x) Felt like an outcast/third person --sure. I call it "being human"
( ) Eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
(x) Had deja vu
( ) Danced in the moonlight
(x) Liked the way you looked
(x) Questioned your heart
( ) Been obsessed with post-it notes
(x) Squished mud through your bare feet
(x) Been lost
(x) Been on the opposite side of the country
(x) Swam in the ocean
(x) Felt like dying;
( ) Cried yourself to sleep
(x) Played cops and robbers
(x) Recently colored with crayons --I have kids!
( ) Sang karaoke
(x ) Paid for a meal with only coins
(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(x) Made prank phone calls
( ) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue
( ) Danced in the rain
(x ) Written a letter to Santa Claus
( ) Been kissed under the mistletoe
(x) Watched the sun rise with someone you care about
(x) Blown bubbles
(x) Made a bonfire on the beach
(x) Crashed a party --try it! It's fun!
(x) Gone roller-skating
(x) Had a wish come true
( ) jumped off a bridge

1. What time is it? 9:06 am
2. What is your name? BB
3. Disappeared... so let me just say "prestidigitator." Thank you.
4. What is your favorite drink? Iced coffee
5. Tattoos? no
6. Body piercing? No
7. How much do you love your job? Being unemployed has its moments
8. Birthplace: Freeport, Texas
9. Favorite vacation spot? Cancun, Mexico
10. Ever been to Africa? No, and I have no desire to go
11. Ever steal any traffic signs? No
12. A, B, C, D, DD cup size? Actually I'll take a grande, unsweetened, with room for cream....
13. 2 Door or 4 Door? 4 Door
14. Salad dressing? Depends on the mood.
15. Favorite pie? Apple pie a la mode, followed closely by peach cobbler
16. Favorite number? I have a fondness for 26.46 that I may bother to explain someday
17. Favorite movie? Cannery Row
18. Favorite holiday? Halloween
19 Favorite food? Tex Mex
20. Favorite day of the week? Probably Friday, aka Tex Mex day
21. Favorite brand of body soap? Eh? Something that makes bubbles and doesn't leave me smelling like a diaper pail
22. Favorite TV show? Intervention
23. Favorite singer? One cannot go wrong with Otis Redding
25. What do you do to relax? Internet, read, torture squirrels
26. Message to your friends reading this? Word to your muthah
27. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Probably living a sweet life, doing some substance abuse counseling, maybe teaching at a juco too.
28. What do you enjoy receiving? Compliments from Sensei
29. Furthest Place you will send this message? Washington, DC
30. Who will respond the fastest? Roman Polanski
31. Least likely to respond? Me
32. What time is it now? 9:27

Quick Notes/Two

I was quite serious about running a five-mile race with Henley this evening, but I've run three times this week and possibly aggravated the old calf injury.

I find this pretty frustrating.

***

"When in danger, the brain searches its records for a response. In a fight, if an opponent takes an unanticipated or unrecognized action, the brain cannot find a practiced response, resulting in decision paralysis." David Kahn, Krav Maga

***

Taking the night off now... gotta recuperate.

***

We surprised THEBOY by dropping by for lunch today. They keep those kids in line (literally and figuratively)!

They proceed to the cafeteria in single file, saying nothing, and with hands clasped behind the back.

He was happy to see us, and we had a fine meal. The food wasn't half bad.

***

TWO NAMES YOU GO BY
[01] Brian
[02] BB

TWO PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE
[01] Cherokee
[02] Cajun

TWO THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW
[01] Black shorts
[02] Socks

TWO THINGS YOU WANT REALLY BADLY AT THE MOMENT
[01] Final, firm, "here's the real offer" info from the job folks.
[02] Pecs

TWO PETS YOU HAVE
[01] Oreo (cat)
[02] Does a squeaky Buddha toy count?

TWO PEOPLE WHO WILL FILL THIS OUT
[01] Dunno
[2} Don't care

TWO THINGS YOU DID LAST NIGHT
[01] Ran three miles
[02] Read from the DSM-IV

TWO THINGS YOU ATE TODAY
[01] Rotisserie chicken
[02] An avacado

TWO PEOPLE YOU LAST TALKED TO
[01] My son
[02] My wife

TWO THINGS YOU WILL DO TONIGHT
[01] Chuck THEBOY in the shower
[02] Watch the Alan Lomax documentary I recorded last night

TWO FAVORITE HOLIDAYS
[01] I like Halloween a lot
[02] I still like my birthday. I get a couple presents, have a fine meal, people say nice things to me all day, and the wife might let me kiss her.

TWO FAVORITE NUMBERS
[01] 101365 (wife's birthday)
[02] 051206 (day I departed broadcasting for good)

TWO OF YOUR FAVORITE MOVIES
[01] Cannery Row
[02] Casablanca

5

Trying something a pinch more chipper, not that I'm feeling that way in the slightest.

Five songs that at some point in your life you've listened to over and over.

1. "Sweet Life" by Varnaline. Aural morphine.
2. "Lazarus" by Porcupine Tree. Beyond gorgeous.
3. "Sober" by Tool. I'd never heard anything like that before. Remember, we weren't far removed from the days when Warrant were chart-dominating "metal."
4. "Cinnamon Girl" by Susanna Hoffs and Matthew Sweet. Man, that one captures something I can't put my finger on.
5. "Good Night, Sweet Night" by Jason Falkner is basically the theme song to this neverending self-re-creation.

Please feel free to join in.

Numbers

*22 and 66*

I suppose it was about 22 years ago when a guy in a big car sped down Cemetery Road by my house and hit a kid.

I heard the long squeal of the tires as he tried in vain to stop.

What I know:

I saw him hit that kid.

I ran to the ditch where he landed.

I no longer have those images in my head. Trauma is the strangest damn thing. I've got words for what I saw (though I'll spare you), but the pictures that go along with the memory are just wiped clean. They just never made it to from short-term memory to long-term memory.

The newspaper said he was thrown 66 feet by the impact.

The kid lived, busted up though he was.

***

*1*

My classmate who lived one mile away asked me on the bus the next morning what that terrible scream she heard was.

That would have been the child's mother, screaming at the scene.

***

*50 and 60*

I'd guess the big pickup truck pulling the trailer managed to reach about 50 mph between the street and the far back end of the daycare parking lot.

It's a big lot, and I see "new" cars with grease pencil numbers on the windshields back there sometimes. I guess the church/daycare has some sort of agreement with someone to store a few vehicles back there.

The truck pulled up by those cars, and the driver hopped out.

I figure that the pickup and trailer combination was about 60 feet long.

***

*8*

That's when International Wife's train was due to depart, so I had to keep moving, to take THEBOY to school and her to the train depot, instead of having a discussion with the pickup driver as we drove (slowly, thank you) around the back of the daycare to eyeball the Jerk.

But I came back after the train depot.

***

*50*

That's about the percentage of the ugly note I'd written for his windshield when a school administrator pulled up. Not sure where the Jerk was. Maybe he was driving one of those cars somewhere.

She and I had a discussion, and she assured me she'd talk to the big boss about it. I crumpled up the note.

***

*100*

That's my remaining percentage of pissed-offedness about the whole thing.

***

*1 and 12 and 100 and 2*

I attended one martial arts class last night, kickboxing. It went well.

But belt test is coming up, and I mean to work hard on endurance, so I went to the track last night for a dozen 100-yard windsprints.

I plan to attend a couple martial arts classes today.

***

*4 and 5 and 7 and 100*

I'd run four windsprints when I began to question the wisdom of working out so hard.

Tomorrow night I may join Henley in a five-mile race in Dallas at 7pm. It'll likely still be close to 100 degrees at that point.

***

*62*

That's the UFC pay-per-view I'll be watching with my buddy Ken this Saturday. Coooooool.

***

*160 and 157*

I weighed 160lbs before kickboxing. I weighed 157 when I returned from the windsprints.

***

*38*

That's how old I'll be a week from today.

***

Happy Tuesday.

What Goes Through the Mind, What Comes Out of the Mouth…

As THEBOY wound himself into a full-blown “gimme gimme gimme” frenzy Friday evening about wanting a new TOY, a COMIC, a new SOMETHING, I muttered something about instant gratification before telling him, “You know son, in some parts of the world talking like that would get you sent to live in a monastery.”

International Wife found that highly amusing for some reason, and you know, the more she laughed, the more I laughed.

***

I ran. 93 degrees at 10pm, and I was out there, seeing how I’d fare after a few months off. The summer seemed like a good time to let the calf heal up, do some other work to keep up the cardio while the earth bakes.

My hat’s off to Sensei L’Onis and his killer workouts; three miles went by fairly easily, even in the heat. I don’t know that I’ve lost a thing.

***

It was therapeutic. I needed that, just needed it.

THEGIRL went into another stunning display of bowel terror this evening while her mother was away. The record is still six diapers in an evening, okay, but she managed to destroy three in about five minutes tonight.

Do I need to mention again that I never, ever got used to this? That it’s a gut check (sorry) every time?

And as I hauled out, I think, the second plastic bag full of noxiousness, I watched her walk straight back to the same corner of the bedroom where she’d just messed up a diaper. She turned to me, got that look on her face, and I asked in vain whether she was done.

She wasn’t.

***

And THEBOY, the poor boy… see, at some point recently he decided it’s cute or funny or whatever to pop his folks on the rump. It was behavior that was pushing it as far as I was concerned.

And as I stared in disbelief at grunting, red-faced THEGIRL tonight, he walked up behind me and hit me in the small of the back about six times.

OUCH.

He missed my rump altogether.

I turned around and spoke in DADDY DEMON VOICE: “You! Knock it off!”

He knocked it off.

***

Maybe it’s the smell. I’m guessing it’s not just the smell…

***

I can remember mowing the yard as a teen, running over a fresh pile in the summer heat. It made me furious. Whatever dog did that, if he was around right now I’d KILL HIM!

***

I wouldn’t really.

***

So I hit the track, and immediately felt like I had a lot in the tank. iPod was blasting, and as Sea of Green sang, “The moon is full now, waiting for the sun” I got chills. How can I get chills while jogging in 93 degree heat?

And something darted beside me there on the track, going inhumanly fast. It startled me.

It was a rabbit.

I said hi.

He was inside the fence, startled to see me loping along, and he ran on pure instinct, scared I was a predator. I couldn’t begin to catch him, of course, but that didn’t matter. It was instinct that moved him at blinding speed until he found that gap in the fence and put some distance between us. Instinct.

***

A few days ago I was speaking to a roomful of people who work in drug and alcohol education and recovery, presenting their own curriculum back to them in a 10 minute audition.

Pressure. This is my first step into the industry, hopefully. This is the type of work I envision myself doing until I can be a counselor. I daydream about working in prevention until I’m certified to help those on the other side of that line.

I can usually do okay in a presentation, and in this situation, I thought my conviction would carry me through. I know this stuff. I live and breathe it.

You all know this.

They told me I had 10 minutes, that they’d be timing me. Showed me the hand sign for “one minute left.” Okay, they’re strict on the time limit. Fine.

“Once alcohol has worked backwards from the higher cognitive functions of the brain and through the gross motor skills, it will begin to affect those parts of the brain we share with lizards, simple creatures. These are the parts that control instinct, involuntary movement, heart and lung functions…”

A voice from the crowd: “You mean I have a lizard inside of me?”

(Pause)

I’m unemployed, giving one of the most important, meaningful, emotionally resonant presentations of my life, and someone in the room wants to be a class clown. The clock is ticking down the time, MY time to get this done, and everything comes to a grinding halt as a bad joke cuts the air.

“Ma’am,” I said. “I’m not allowed to make that diagnosis until I have my counseling license.”

The room erupts in laughter, and I can continue.

(Yes, I imagine she was planted there, told to do exactly that to see how I'd handle it. This ain't my first rodeo.)

***

Rabbit shit. That’s what I smelled out in the first curve at the track. A distinctly county fair-like smell.

***

It’s a dark place, this track. It’s the sort of place that would be trouble were it located in lots of other areas. No lights, and the goings-on aren’t visible from the freeway, though the noise from up there might mask a scream.

Yeah, I’m a bit high-strung about that sort of place sometimes. And that’s why I don’t blame the women who jog out there some nights who give me a wide berth. I couldn’t begin to explain to them that I’m not a bad guy, and in fact, if something happened while I was out there I’d be in the thick of it, be on her side against whomever.

***

Headlights. Two cars pull up to the side fence, away from the access ladder. In short order five youths hop the fence and stand on the track, mostly in the lane I’m jogging in.

Harmless? Just some young punks with no sense of track protocol, no idea that they should get the hell out of my way?

I swing wide, and I’m fifty feet ahead of them when they take off running behind me.

It’s a track. Is this harmless running? Probably, right? They’ve done no stretching, no warming up, and they’ve taken off at a sprint just as I pass them.

Five of them. I’ve been outnumbered before. At the KM school I practice a move: right foot back, swing the whole body to the right to deliver a hammer fist to the face of an attacker to the side. Continue turning around and follow up with a right hook to the head in case they’re still standing.

They’re catching up.

This is nothing, right?

I’m so paranoid. I know I can make a point with one of them. Five?

***

I carry a knife when I jog. I’ll say here what I’ve said to many people: It’s not for humans. Dogs will do some crazy crap when you run. One place I run regularly is by a tennis court, and it seems like there’s always a guy playing who leaves his unleashed pit bull waiting there beside the track.

I wouldn’t really, would I?

***

They sprint by. One cuts to my left, making some teenaged point by passing me in the grass.

Another makes this clopping sound I can’t place for a minute.

Does this turkey have a wooden leg or something?

No, he’s in flip flops.

***

Like lots of nights where lots of runners blaze past me, they’re soon on the sidelines, hands on their knees as I trudge past them, counting my laps.

Nine, Ten…

They hop the fence—much more slowly this time—and get in their cars and leave.

***

Good run.

What Goes Through the Mind, What Comes Out of the Mouth…

As THEBOY wound himself into a full-blown “gimme gimme gimme” frenzy Friday evening about wanting a new TOY, a COMIC, a new SOMETHING, I muttered something about instant gratification before telling him, “You know son, in some parts of the world talking like that would get you sent to live in a monastery.”

International Wife found that highly amusing for some reason, and you know, the more she laughed, the more I laughed.

***

I ran. 93 degrees at 10pm, and I was out there, seeing how I’d fare after a few months off. The summer seemed like a good time to let the calf heal up, do some other work to keep up the cardio while the earth bakes.

My hat’s off to Sensei L’Onis and his killer workouts; three miles went by fairly easily, even in the heat. I don’t know that I’ve lost a thing.

***

It was therapeutic. I needed that, just needed it.

THEGIRL went into another stunning display of bowel terror this evening while her mother was away. The record is still six diapers in an evening, okay, but she managed to destroy three in about five minutes tonight.

Do I need to mention again that I never, ever got used to this? That it’s a gut check (sorry) every time?

And as I hauled out, I think, the second plastic bag full of noxiousness, I watched her walk straight back to the same corner of the bedroom where she’d just messed up a diaper. She turned to me, got that look on her face, and I asked in vain whether she was done.

She wasn’t.

***

And THEBOY, the poor boy… see, at some point recently he decided it’s cute or funny or whatever to pop his folks on the rump. It was behavior that was pushing it as far as I was concerned.

And as I stared in disbelief at grunting, red-faced THEGIRL tonight, he walked up behind me and hit me in the small of the back about six times.

OUCH.

He missed my rump altogether.

I turned around and spoke in DADDY DEMON VOICE: “You! Knock it off!”

He knocked it off.

***

Maybe it’s the smell. I’m guessing it’s not just the smell…

***

I can remember mowing the yard as a teen, running over a fresh pile in the summer heat. It made me furious. Whatever dog did that, if he was around right now I’d KILL HIM!

***

I wouldn’t really.

***

So I hit the track, and immediately felt like I had a lot in the tank. iPod was blasting, and as Sea of Green sang, “The moon is full now, waiting for the sun” I got chills. How can I get chills while jogging in 93 degree heat?

And something darted beside me there on the track, going inhumanly fast. It startled me.

It was a rabbit.

I said hi.

He was inside the fence, startled to see me loping along, and he ran on pure instinct, scared I was a predator. I couldn’t begin to catch him, of course, but that didn’t matter. It was instinct that moved him at blinding speed until he found that gap in the fence and put some distance between us. Instinct.

***

A few days ago I was speaking to a roomful of people who work in drug and alcohol education and recovery, presenting their own curriculum back to them in a 10 minute audition.

Pressure. This is my first step into the industry, hopefully. This is the type of work I envision myself doing until I can be a counselor. I daydream about working in prevention until I’m certified to help those on the other side of that line.

I can usually do okay in a presentation, and in this situation, I thought my conviction would carry me through. I know this stuff. I live and breathe it.

You all know this.

They told me I had 10 minutes, that they’d be timing me. Showed me the hand sign for “one minute left.” Okay, they’re strict on the time limit. Fine.

“Once alcohol has worked backwards from the higher cognitive functions of the brain and through the gross motor skills, it will begin to affect those parts of the brain we share with lizards, simple creatures. These are the parts that control instinct, involuntary movement, heart and lung functions…”

A voice from the crowd: “You mean I have a lizard inside of me?”

(Pause)

I’m unemployed, giving one of the most important, meaningful, emotionally resonant presentations of my life, and someone in the room wants to be a class clown. The clock is ticking down the time, MY time to get this done, and everything comes to a grinding halt as a bad joke cuts the air.

“Ma’am,” I said. “I’m not allowed to make that diagnosis until I have my counseling license.”

The room erupts in laughter, and I can continue.

(Yes, I imagine she was planted there, told to do exactly that to see how I'd handle it. This ain't my first rodeo.)

***

Rabbit shit. That’s what I smelled out in the first curve at the track. A distinctly county fair-like smell.

***

It’s a dark place, this track. It’s the sort of place that would be trouble were it located in lots of other areas. No lights, and the goings-on aren’t visible from the freeway, though the noise from up there might mask a scream.

Yeah, I’m a bit high-strung about that sort of place sometimes. And that’s why I don’t blame the women who jog out there some nights who give me a wide berth. I couldn’t begin to explain to them that I’m not a bad guy, and in fact, if something happened while I was out there I’d be in the thick of it, be on her side against whomever.

***

Headlights. Two cars pull up to the side fence, away from the access ladder. In short order five youths hop the fence and stand on the track, mostly in the lane I’m jogging in.

Harmless? Just some young punks with no sense of track protocol, no idea that they should get the hell out of my way?

I swing wide, and I’m fifty feet ahead of them when they take off running behind me.

It’s a track. Is this harmless running? Probably, right? They’ve done no stretching, no warming up, and they’ve taken off at a sprint just as I pass them.

Five of them. I’ve been outnumbered before. At the KM school I practice a move: right foot back, swing the whole body to the right to deliver a hammer fist to the face of an attacker to the side. Continue turning around and follow up with a left hook to the head in case they’re still standing.

They’re catching up.

This is nothing, right?

I’m so paranoid. I know I can make a point with one of them. Five?

***

I carry a knife when I jog. I’ll say here what I’ve said to many people: It’s not for humans. Dogs will do some crazy crap when you run. One place I run regularly is by a tennis court, and it seems like there’s always a guy playing who leaves his unleashed pit bull waiting there beside the track.

I wouldn’t really, would I?

***

They sprint by. One cuts to my left, making some teenaged point by passing me in the grass.

Another makes this clopping sound I can’t place for a minute.

Does this turkey have a wooden leg or something?

No, he’s in flip flops.

***

Like lots of nights where lots of runners blaze past me, they’re soon on the sidelines, hands on their knees as I trudge past them, counting my laps.

Nine, Ten…

They hop the fence—much more slowly this time—and get in their cars and leave.

***

Good run.

Song Meme

Here are the rules: Answer all the questions with the song titles of ONE band/group/artist. Multiple albums are fine (recommended, in fact). State the band/group/artist you're using in the subject line. Pretty simple.

Use songs whose titles answer the question, not songs whose lyrics do.

(I'm going with Muddy Waters)



1. Are you male or female?: "I'm a Hoochie Coochie Man"

2. Describe yourself: "I Can't Be Satisfied"

3. How do some people feel about you?: "King Bee" (Get it?)

4. How do you feel about yourself?: "Got My Mojo Workin'"

5. Describe your girlfriend/boyfriend/interest: "She Moves Me"

6. Where would you rather be?: "Deep Down in Florida"

7. Describe what you want to be: "Rollin' Stone"

8. Describe how you live: "I Love the Life I Live, I Live the Life I Love"

9. Describe how you love: "Smokestack Lightnin'"

10. Share a few words of wisdom: "You Can't Lose What You Ain't Never Had"

As of Today

It has been 11 years since I last had a drink.

I find it very interesting that right now I'm on the verge of entering the substance abuse prevention/recovery field.

***

I consider August 18 to be the date I began an alcohol-free life, but truth be told, I'm not 100% sure. When I decided to quit it was actually 10-14 days since I'd had a drink. At some point I looked back and tried to remember the date of my last drink (a six-pack of Ziegenbock that tasted like it had gotten hot at some point) and came up with a date of August 17.

***

Anyone know a good, cheap health insurance option?

***

Happy Friday.

Score One for BB

Today went pretty well. I spent a lot of time prepping for the second interview, which amounted to an audition more than anything. Fine, fine. I knew my stuff, and despite a pretty average bout of anxiety, thought I'd do well.

I did. I showed a little video, spoke a little Spanish, presented my material, dealt with a heckler fairly well, and got a few chuckles in the process.

As I left, the woman escorting me out said, "You're bilingual? We had no idea." She went on to say that I should put that at the TOP of my resume, as it's very important to them and similar businesses in this market.

Niiiiice.

***

Should have a decision by Friday.

***

I'm pretty worn out. I stayed up too late last night, and today's attempt at a nap was rather fruitless.

I was positively grouchy this evening with the kids. I feel bad about it, but heck, they weren't behaving very well. It's not like I snapped at a couple of kids who'd done nothing wrong. THEBOY especially wanted to argue, question everything we said, resist doing what we said, and whine to us when he eliminated all movie choices we'd quite kindly made available to him.

That brought out BIG DADDY VOICE.

***

Kelli resumes school tomorrow. My school resumes the 26th, and I'd chances are quite good I'll be employed by then.

So... the whirlwind is about to get underway once more.

***

So UFC Unleashed aired the Ortiz/Griffin fight this evening. I remember walking away from that one disappointed that Griffin didn't get the decision. Seemed to me he'd been dominated in the first round, then turned it around in the next two.

And now I'm more convinced than ever. Griffin was ROBBED.

Round one: Brutal, just brutal to watch. Ortiz way outmatched Griffin on the ground. I think Ortiz may have landed as many as 25 elbows to Griffin's head.

Round two: Griffin made an adjustment, sprawling beautifully to avoid every takedown attempt. In a standup round, I think I could safely guess that Griffin landed 30% more blows than Ortiz, who looked tentative and frustrated.

Round three: Griffin again dominated the standup game, though not by as wide of a margin. Ortiz finally succeeded in taking him down with 1:35 left in the round. He didn't land any good shots as far as I could tell, and he couldn't pass the guard. Griffin, in fact, landed some elbows and punches from the guard before scrambling out and getting back to his feet.

Seriously GRIFFIN WON TWO ROUNDS. This isn't a stretch, this isn't wishful thinking.

Tito, dude... I rooted for you in Ortiz/(Ken) Shamrock... you really swayed me on the show. But come on over to the house, have some fine Illi espresso with me, and make a case for how in the HELL you think you won that fight. I have the tape. We'll keep our own score.

***

And now for another unnecesary survey, which I ganked from Geoff

30 unknown facts/secrets about yourself.

1. What does your MySpace headline mean? I've never had much trouble naming the things I write for some reason. When I first started blogging a couple years ago, as I was signing up, well, the name "BB Am I" just came to me. Simple, and I think it's memorable in a strange way. Works for me.

2. Elaborate on your default photo: (Over on Myspace) Currently it's Kelli (aka "International Wife") and me, cropped from a family photo.

4. What is your current relationship status? Married.

5. What EXACTLY are you wearing right now? From the top down, my black "Krav Maga Self Defense and Fighting" cap, a white polo shirt, black/grey shorts, and some socks.

6. What is your current problem? Isn't this like asking me what my major malfunction is? Um... Dunno. Sunspots?

7. What do you love most? I should say my wife, right?

8. What makes you most happy? Let's keep it simple: A big bowl of pho.

9. Are you musically inclined? Yeah, sort of. I play okay guitar, bass, know a few chords on the piano, and found a backbeat pretty easy to fall into the one time I noodled with a real drumset. I'm not a prodigy, but I can usually coax some musical sounds out of an instrument. Exceptions: Fiddle and steel guitar.

10. If you could go back in time, and change something, what would it be? I'd have started martial arts long before the age of 37.

11. If you MUST be an animal for ONE day- what would you be? A bonobo chimp. Look up how they respond to stress and you'll understand.

12. Ever have a near death experience? Plenty. I could make quite a list. International Wife and I nearly drowned in a rafting accident on one of our anniversaries. I've had a gun pulled on me, watched a knife fight in an emergency room in Laredo, stood a hundred feet from a shooting in Houston, got beat up by 15 Latino punks who flashed a knife in the process, narrowly escaped being cornered by a carload of thugs in the desolate back end of the Reunion parking lot in Dallas... each of those incidents shook me up for sure. Must say the one at Reunion probably looked the most innocent from the outside, but I really feel like those guys would have robbed and killed me. That one stuck with me.

13. Name an obvious quality you have? Sense of humor, baby!

14. What's the name of the song that's stuck in your head right now? Holy crap, something that goes like, "You had a bad day! Blah blah blah blah blah blah!" I'm not saying it's the worst song I've ever heard (that'd be "Biker Like an Icon" perhaps), but any song that immediately makes me picture dancing muppets is quite flawed.

15. Who did you cut and paste this from? Geoff, aka G-Par.

16. Name someone with the same b-day as you: Michael Jackson, Elliot Gould, Charlie Parker.

17. [I really disliked this question, so I'm replacing it with the dumbest thing I can think of]. Bananas... like 'em a little green, perfectly ripe, or a little overripe? I actually prefer a little overripe.

18. Have you ever been in a fight? Plenty. If you know me at all, you know that trouble follows me for some reason. I will say that some kid named Patrick hit me with the best punch ever when I was 11 or 12. We scrapped a few times. I won them all, but that one shot still has my ears ringing... I'd shake his hand and congratulate him for it tomorrow if I saw him somewhere.

19. Have you ever sang in front of a large audience? Sure. Dash Rip Rock came to Austin, and for a brief moment I thought I was Bruiser. Turns out I was wrong.

20. What's the first thing you notice about the OPPOSITE sex? I don't know. Lately I wonder if I have a neck fetish... something delish about that. Maybe it's why I like shorthaired women? I like curves... the neck looks like a curve, as does the small of the back, the hips, the arches of the feet. I've gotta say that I can't give a good answer (as if you couldn't tell). I will say that sometimes a man will find himself attracted to a woman who simply doesn't stand up to scrutiny. And he likes what he sees anyway. Maybe that's the way women have to approach most men. Jeez, I'm rambling.

21. What do you usually order from Starbucks? Iced coffee, unsweetened.

23. Ever had a drunken night in Mexico? No, but I had a kidney stone in Nuevo Laredo. I was right over the river, crossing the border. Customs laid me out on the table and eyed me suspiciously as I moaned and writhed ("Eez eet jour appendeesh?"). I'm glad they sent me to an American hospital, even though there was the knife incident and all.

24. Has anyone ever said u looked like a celebrity? I get a touch of Andrew McCarthy or John Cusack comparisons, but it seems like a stretch to me. I look more like those guys' weird-looking sibling who has been instructed to avoid the media.

25. Do you still watch kiddy movies or TV shows? I'm a father. I see plenty. Lately we've been enjoying Pee Wee's Playhouse.

26. Did you have braces? Yes.

27. Are you comfortable with your height? I’m a pinch shy of 5’11” and do indeed wish I'd hit the six foot mark. But I'm not losing any sleep over it.

28. [This one disappeared, so again I will insert my own dumb question] Do you have any behaviors you can't explain? Yep. Overnight freakouts, and some workout/jogging/martial arts things I find myself doing that occur spontaneously and seem to serve no purpose (like bouncing on the mat).

29. Do you speak any other languagesI? Yeah, Spanish

30. Whats your favorite smell? Vetivert

"Simplicity Don't Need to Be Greased"

Here's a fine article on Billy Joe Shaver by the Ft. Worth Star-Telegram's David Casstevens.

We had Shaver on the show back in the early 90s when I was a low-level audio tech for Austin City Limits. I remember how he beamed with pride at sharing the stage with Willie Nelson, and how he gave me an enthusiastic handshake. He's aged a lot since then.

And I don't guess I'll ever shake the heartbreak of his son Eddy's death of a heroin overdose several years back.

Things You Don't Usually Tell Anyone About

Curious minds want to know about Things You Don't Usually Tell Anyone About, like...

...a strange combination of food you like to snack on.
I really like dipping bananas in yogurt. Maybe that's not strange.

...something you do that other bloggers who read you might find odd if they saw you doing it.
My occasional overnight freakouts. I mean... it's me wandering around the house in my skivvies, sometimes holding a 9mm, checking windows and doors.

...when you were 7, what you wanted to be when you grew up - that you never told anyone about.
Eh, the real answer (veterinarian) is boring. But at that age I also harbored a fantasy that my father would put together an Ironman-like suit made of--ready?--solder. Yes, I expected him to make me a suit of armor using a soldering iron.

...the thing you don't tell people at work about yourself.
I currently don't work. I pretty much share everything. I often to elect not to share my incredible superiority with them though.

...what you like to do when no one else is going to be home for a stretch of time.
Blog, play Scrabble, watch MMA shows, and travel shows with cute hostesses.

...the thing you believe - politically - that you don't admit to people who think you think like they do.
I'm somewhat liberal, but when push comes to shove I'm disappointed by every politician at some point. I remain largely apolitical just to save my sanity.

...that one thing from your childhood, outside of your parents, that you try to maintain some kind of connection with, and how.
Well, I'm still waiting for the suit made of solder. Barring that, you know, it's writing. From second grade on my teachers told me I had talent, and that really meant a lot to me.

...a song or group or singer you secretly like that everyone else groans about.
70s-era Chicago. Believe it.

...do you close the bathroom door when you're the only one home?
No way, Jose.

Sex!

God you're easy.

But since you're in the mood and all, zip on over to Dr. Petra's fine dismantling of a study on the differences between male and female libidos.

She makes good points, mostly right out of the psychological testing textbooks. Believe me, I've read them (slept through them, put my drinks on them, tried to forget them...)

***

Good day here. Busy though... preparing for a second interview tomorrow at one of the interested employers. My heart is really set on this. Wish me luck.

A Rocket, Some Butt-Kicking, and Some Spiders

Plenty going on today.

THEBOY, of course, started kindergarten. It went very well, save for the fact that he left his lunch money in his backpack. We've been reminded that his lunch money needs to be in his POCKET, not his backpack. Okay okay.

But he went to school with no apparent anxiety at all. Believe me, we asked him 12 times in 30 seconds how he was doing. He really only said two things:

"I get to learn new things!"

and

"I built a rocket!" (There were blocks on the table)

***

As we left, Kelli began crying. It lasted a while.

I was a little emotional, but really, she's emotional enough for the two of us. Hell, she's emotional enough for our entire zip code.

***

I got good job news today, which I've shared with many of you. One big step closer.

***

Went to kickboxing tonight, and it was pretty grueling. Sensei didn't tolerate much nonsense from us. All business. It's exactly what I needed.

***

On Gene Simmons' Family Jewels tonight, in fact, his wife and daughter attended a Krav Maga class. I gather it's pretty trendy among famous folks.

His wife and daughter went there, ostensibly, so his "oh my GOD she looks older than 13" daughter can have some skills for fending off the boys.

They punched, they kicked, they worked out... And when Simmons found the sight of the well-padded instructor getting kicked in HIS family jewels amusing, he got invited to put on a padded suit and take a beating.

It was pretty amusing.

***

I suppose this'd be a good time for one of my random plugs for the place I attend, Tiger Klay's Mid-Cities Krav Maga, here in Hurst, Texas. (The link is right over there >>>>>>>>)

If you're reading this, maybe you'd done a bit of poking around on a search engine, wanted to find the lowdown on the place.

Go, check it out. Sensei L'Onis is great, a great instructor and guy. I wouldn't write it if I didn't believe it. I'll never be a big, muscular guy, okay (see the "Bigger" entries from a few weeks ago), but my shape has changed. I've got definition I never had before.

And the confidence this has instilled in me is impressive. It's true; once you get some skills (and I'm not quite yet an orange belt, folks) you gain the ability to shrug off some things that might have burned up a short fuse before. Not to mention the confidence to remain calm in a situation where you may have no choice but to use your skills.

So go. Tell them I sent you. I'm not on the payroll or anything.

***

Reading Nadine's blog reminded me of a story from back in the day, a nice freaky episode with an old girlfriend I'll call Jane.

(We've been broken up for 16 years; really, I not doing this as a diss. I'm almost over her by now, nyuk nyuk)

***

It was probably 1988 or so. We took a road trip that included San Marcos. We probably swung up into Austin as well, though I can't say for sure.

We'd crashed in some motel room. I was dead asleep when she sat up in bed.

Jane: "SPIDERS!"

Me: "Flrrrrglmph."

Jane: "SPIDERS!"

Me (waking up in a panic): "What? What?"

Jane: "Spiders!"

Me, gasping, turning on the light: "Where? Where?"

Jane: "Everywhere! All over the bed!"

(Jane pants, taking in the scene. I too take in the scene, and see no damn spiders.)

Me: "I don't see any spiders. Go back to sleep."

Jane's head hits the pillow and she is immediately asleep.

Me, I'm panting, my heart is racing, I'm full of adrenaline... it takes a while to get back to sleep.

***

The next day she had no recollection of the incident.

***

Boogie time. Ya'll have a good one.

Moments with Ally

It's been a busy weekend, a busy bunch of days, in fact.

***

I didn't feel all that great Friday morning when I woke up. Ever get too little rest and just have it wreck your stomach? I crashed until... maybe early afternoon? Can't recall. Felt better when I got up.

I felt well enough, in fact, to go ahead and attend the killer cardio class at Tiger Klay. Hoo boy, it was more circuit training, and it was rough! Rough I say! I'm glad I did it though; we have belt test in a couple weeks, and I need to focus on endurance work.

And heck, I need to start thinking about running again. I mean, I AM thinking about it... bought me some new running shoes yesterday. I'm daydreaming about running.

And I've gotta keep the half marathon in January in mind.

***

Yesterday was the much-dreaded final exam in ethics class. This was strictly on Aristotle, all essay. Yeah, you read right.

Some folks have told me they'd assumed I'd dig Aristotle, that I'd really grasp it.

Those folks were mistaken.

But I did manage to do some good crash studying, and in fact, I feel like I kicked ass on the test.

***

So we have a guest here for a couple days.

She is licking my ankles right now. It's not as enjoyable as you'd think.

She's a dachsund, see.

***

So we're dog-sitting Ally for a classmate of mine. Now, most of you know that I'm pretty anti-pet these days. I see very little return on investment with the little buggers. Like I told Kelli earlier, 10 minutes of playing fetch does not equal 30 minutes of cleaning up shit.

I'm not a total killjoy, okay. My inlaws have certainly had a couple perfect dogs.

(More ankle licking)

And let me say, by the way, that what appears here is meant for comic affect. I never got genuinely steamed, was never to the point where I couldn't crack a joke no matter what Ally pulled.

And she pulled a few stunts.

***

Moment with Ally #1: While on the phone with Whit, I found myself chasing her around: "Hey, don't eat those! Gimme that! Those are my earplugs!"

Ah crap. Too late.

***

THEBOY starts kindergarten tomorrow. He's showing zero anxiety, zero fear. My first day of kindergarten two Mexican boys beat me up.

(That'd explain a lot, eh?)

So I guess I'm feeling a bit overprotective. Well, here we go.

***

Moment with Ally #2: It's four or five a.m., and she's in the room I previously thought was mostly soundproof (the study), barking and whining. I'm awake, and none too pleased. I reach for my earplugs... oh, wait. Ah hell.

***

I seized the moment and went to the 24 hour Wal Mart for groceries. I was a bit of a zombie, needless to say.

***

We did a whole lot of nothing today, I must admit. The kids slept through Ally's shenanigans, but the grownups had some serious sleep schedule issues. Kelli and I napped a lot.

***

Moment #3 with Ally: I'm staring at dog shit in the hall and thinking to myself, I'll bet my earplugs are in there.

***

Intervention tonight... I'm not going to recap the whole thing. Betsy's a mess, a bigtime bad alcoholic. And like the crack addict from last week's show, she just screams abandonment issues.

Despite the interventionist's admonitions, the whole thing turned into a negotiation. "Can I leave Wednesday? Late Wednesday?"

She bailed, and her family and friends cut her off.

***

Ally's licking my knees now. No, I'm leading up to some tacky joke. For once.

***

Jobs... two job things are going on. I'm not writing much about them, despite the enormity of it all. For some good, very obvious reasons, it's just a good idea right now to not spill the beans too much about all this.

I have my fingers crossed about one... I am genuinely excited about it, and that'd be for the first time since I went to work for Yahoo in 2000.

It ain't a done deal yet. I'll holler.

***

So it's off to bed soon. I have fresh, uneaten earplugs to get me through the night. Ya'll be good.

Book Survey

I'll post some real content soon. I'm pretty doggone busy. Got a final tomorrow morning.

***

1. One book that changed your life:
Cannery Row by John Steinbeck

2. One book you’ve read more than once:
On Fire by Larry Brown

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
10 Little Indians by Sherman Alexie

4. One book that made you giddy:
Faithful by Steven King and Stewart O’Nan had its moments. (It’s a chronicle of the Red Sox championship season in ’04)

5. One book that wracked you with sobs:
Cracked by Dr. Drew Pinsky

6. One book that you wish had been written:
One more from Larry Brown before he died. But that wouldn’t be enough either.

7. One book you wish had never been written:
Well, I’ve thoroughly regretted both times, even though I was only a teen, that I read novels adapted from movie screenplays (ET and Rambo in this case)

8. One book you’re currently reading:
I’m spending a lot of time flipping through Krav Maga by David Khan

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read:
100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia-Marquez

10. Now tag four bloggers: Geoff, Nadine, Amanda, Bruiser

Survey Survey Survey

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Tom Green

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?

Maaaaan… does this gizmo come with overdrive? If not, you can’t go wrong with wiping out the Grateful Dead.

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

The guy who stole my wife’s purse in Naples.

4. What is the best kind of cheese?

We had something in Spain called cabra roccinante that I liked a lot. But really, it’s hard to beat a sharp cheddar or provolone.

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Which one would it be?

Whoa… harder than I expected. I’ll chuck the guilt and go with an oyster po boy.

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie-celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once I can't choose one.

Dr Ruth… oh, movie celebrity. Better read closer. Uh… the chimp that upstaged Matt LeBlanc in that movie about the baseball-playing chimp.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Same rules as above. Who is it?

Whoa whoa whoa… musicians are out on the road, gettin’ funky with GOD knows whom… I don’t wanna catch the gift that keeps on givin’. They don’t have anything so doggone special between their knees that I’d like to be reminded of it by screaming every time I urinate. I'll pass.

8. Now that you've slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy shit, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it?

Sparring gear

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Bitchin’. I’m off to Naples to find my wife’s purse snatcher.

10. Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, where are you gonna go to spend that?

I’m gonna use it to make friends with a 6'8" guy named Antonio who weighs 300 pounds, has no sensation in his knuckles and doesn’t mind helping me track down the purse snatcher.

11. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice.

Say WHAT? This particular being needs to take a good long look at his/her delivery papers before ringing my doorbell.

12. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST

Wait… does this have something to do with Chaka Khan? Okay okay… Well, without getting too specific, let me just say that I’d put myself in a place where the conversation would open like this: “You guys are going to just go driving around in Danbury in the Camaro tonight? Eh, I think I’ll stay home for a change…”

13. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Tom Green is illegal.

14. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what's the premise?

It’s 30 minutes of a black background with white letters that read, “Turn this damn thing off and go better yourself.” The show is called the same thing, oddly.

15. What is your favorite expletive?

I have a certain fondness for “ass junkup.”

16. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Say, "Holy shit it's a bunch of mummies!"

17. Your house is on fire! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don't worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what's the one thing you're going to save from that blazing inferno?

My autographed BB King 8”x10”

18. The Angel Of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel Of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before it bites you. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?

Listen to Porcupine Tree’s “Lazarus” about six times.

19. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the superpower of your choice! What's it gonna be?

Built-in freak repellant.

20. You can relive any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

That episode of Gilligan’s Island where they think there’s a ghost on the island.

21. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Could I eradicate every dirty diaper I’ve changed?

22. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has superpowers. But check this out ... you can move to anywhere else in the world! Where would you go?

Maybe Sevilla (Seville) in Spain.

23. Check it out. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?

Whichever one it is, I’m gonna walk straight in and kick the barkeep in the nuts.

24. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the superpowers question.... If you did, then we'll just expand on that. Check it out... Suddenly, you have gained the ability to FLOAT!!!

As in… on air? In water (I already have that one)? This is a fairly unremarkable power… Okay, I’d eat a bunch of Taco Bell and get really fat so I’d look like one of those huge balloons in the Macy’s parade. Then I’d float over the Buddhist monastery in Ft. Worth and freak them out, let them think the Buddha himself has returned.

25. The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier have given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous-person of your choice. So which late celebrity will you bring back to life?

Larry Brown (the writer)

I'm the Drum Major in the Freak Parade

So let's see... how long ago was it that I wrote a bit about being a magnet for freaky stuff?

***

Dropping the kids off this morning, I noticed a man running from one side of the daycare to the other. The place is strangely laid out, and different doors are used at different times of the day, depending on whether you're dropping off or picking up.

And he was going from the side with the locked door to the other side. Clearly he didn't know the schedule, and that'd make him a stranger.

Early 20s, 5'7" maybe, athletic build, black, some facial hair... he went in the building, and I saw him talking to some of the parents and teachers in there.

At that time of day the administrators aren't in yet, so it's just teachers and kids. It's not a policy I think highly of.

A teacher said, "You're a man... will you help us with this guy? He's going around, asking for money."

I dropped Kelli off at home, which is about 300 yards away if that, and went back to the school.

He was standing outside. I gave him some change, and said if he needed more he should go to the dry cleaners up the street. I told him he was ruffling feathers because our kids are in there, and this place was a bad choice for him.

He said a woman who'd just gone in was supposed to come back out with money. Okay.

I stepped inside the doors and waited. A teacher said police had been called.

***

Then she said she saw the police over at the wrong door. Crud.

I headed over there, but they'd continued driving around the back of the building.

I looked up and the guy was inside again. Ah crap.

He left before I could get over to him again. At THAT moment an administrator arrived at the "wrong" door, and I explained that we had a situation. She proceeded to the "right" door and locked it. The guy was out of sight, and I stayed at the door for a few minutes, letting parents in as they arrived.

The police emerged, but the guy was long gone. We gave a description. As we talked, I learned he'd already been given at least $3.

So he was an uninvited stranger in the daycare, behaving erratically.

***

A note was sent home with the kids today saying that henceforth a daycare worker would be posted at the door each morning. I'm glad to see they're taking some action at least.

***

So it got me to thinking about some of this year's freaky occurrences, and the thought processes associated with each one.

***

Back in March was the argument at the video store with a teenager.

Mental aspect: I lost my cool, lickety split. I was ready to scrap with this guy because neither of us liked the way the other was driving. I was shouting, cursing, and somehow managed to bluff the guy into backing down.

Physical aspect: I had just about nothing. I realized that I'd rather not end up on the ground seeing as how it was asphalt and all, so I decided I'd kick him as hard as I could. My mind was racing, and it was a damn strange feeling to really have almost no idea what to do.

***

Several weeks later came the incident in Central Park in Hurst when a strangely buff homeless guy was behaving erratically, making these strange "muscle man" poses he leered at me from behind my family.

Mental aspect: I was determined to be cool. It doesn't take much erratic behavior for me to summon cops, especially around my family. I got them on the horn and watched that freakin' ape give everyone at the park the heebie jeebies. Cops showed up and sent him away. Fine.

Physical aspect: I'd been in Krav Maga for about six weeks if I recall. I did not feel prepared. I thought about some of what we'd learned, and really, I felt wholly unprepared to whip out anything, even in a pinch. Cognitively I knew a number of fighting techniques at that point, but nothing was committed to muscle memory, nothing was flowing. Way too damn early.

***

Then there was today. In a way this ended up being a combination of my psych training and martial arts training.

Mental aspect: I stayed completely cool, while keeping in my mind that the guy had crossed a boundary. I wanted to make it clear to him that he did not belong in the school with those kids. I think everything that came out of his mouth was a scam, but I emphasized that his presence around our kids made me nervous, hoping it'd stir up some empathy in him. I went into this thinking that my best asset in that (or any other) confrontation is my brain. Chuckle if you want.

Physical aspect: Whoa... first, let me say that the other two incidents were quite clearly capable of becoming physical. In this one it was much less certain. It was possible, but aside from acting so strangely, he hadn't done anything that was obviously intended to be threatening.

But it occurred to me that as I kept all of this in mind, I didn't start to plan a way to engage him. I didn't go over techniques, vulnerable spots, any of that. Honestly, all I thought was: If I need to do something, it'll come.

On the one hand, I feel okay that I had that level of confidence, all right. But... it feels awful damn strange to have not been actively... creating a strategy, you know?

I really don't know if this is good or bad. I'm in uncharted territory here.

***

I will say that mission #1 is accomplished: Martial arts training has given me the confidence NOT to fly off the handle or even get panicky. I train and train and train, and all of that training somehow ended up as merely a terrific backup plan should plan A, outsmart him, fail.

***

This thing at the daycare this morning may have been no big deal. He told me he went in because it's a church, and he figured a guy in need could get help there. I suppose there's a chance he meant it. I doubt it though.

Yeah, I'm over-analyzing. If that surprises you, well, you haven't been to my little corner of the web much, have you?

***

I've got a few other things I could go on about, but this is getting pretty damn long. Just know that even MORE good job stuff is happening now. The next 48 hours could be really good.

Assuming I don't have to whup a transient. In that case the next 48 hours would be ECSTATICALLY GOOD.

(Just kidding)

***

I'd like to hear from any of you about your thoughts on this. Whit, of course. And Toland, shoot, you've been in some intense kickboxing training for months... any of this click with you? Anyone who'd care to chime in, I'll pay attention.

***

Ya'll have a good one.

Bigger

July 7, 2006

I just THOUGHT my legs hurt yesterday. Today I’ve had people ask if I’m limping. Yes, yes I am.

I hit the gym again this morning to work on chest and arms, and it went okay. My shoulder didn’t bark much. I think I riled some senior citizens by daring to show my face in a gym overrun by them. I’m not kidding. I went to do some work on a military press machine, and they just stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I paused the iPod for a sec and heard one tell another, “When I’M mad I just try to build a bridge and get over it.”

It was a little unnerving, kinda like that scene in the Birds where all those birds are everywhere, not making a peep (nyuk nyuk).

But I did my workout and felt pretty good about it.

This morning’s weight: 155.

***
***

And that's it. I stuck with the gym for another week, sucked down protein drinks for three more weeks...

I like running.

I like martial arts.

I hated going to the gym. I'm realistic; I won't stick with something I dislike so much.

A month later I'm still in the upper 150s. Fine, fine. I'm not trying to come across as a guy who can't gain weight, okay. I've been as big as 190 before. I just can't seem to pack on a buncha muscles. I can live with that. When everyone else is gassing out at school, I'm still going.

I do think I'll loosen up a bit, not kill myself over having an occasional burger, you know?

***

Okay, that new reality show Gene Simmons' Family Jewels is pretty damn funny.

***

Had a final in advanced counseling tonight--holy crap was it hard! I'm hoping, HOPING for a B. I remember looking over it and thinking to myself that I could have missed a third of the questions. Cripes! Everyone was pretty freaked out.

Got back my paper on motivational interviewing, and at least I scored a 90 on that.

***

Tired. Good night.

I Didn't Even Have to Use My AK

That's a bad, likely-botched quote from... what, an old Ice Cube song? Called "It Was a Good Day" or something?

I'm bad about screwing up lyrics, and have only gotten worse in recent years.

For example, the Led Zeppelin Lyric "With a purple umbrella and a fifty-cent hat" is likely to come out something like, "Weather pumper under Abba and pissed wombat" or something. I'm serious.

And it busts me up.

I amuse myself way too much.

***

Good day here, mostly. The low point came when THEBOY was crying, miserable from what seemed to be a sudden onset of stomach cramps. Never barfed, never did anything but wail and moan for a while before hitting the sheets early. Checked on him a little while ago and he's fine. He even woke up long enough to drink some juice and have some goldfish.

***

Work-related things are afoot. Good things. Maybe even great things. Email me if you'd like specifics. If not, just wish me luck.

***

Another entry from last month's "Bigger" journal.

***
***

July 5, 2006

Couple notes:

I put some tofu in my noodle supper last night. I figured it couldn’t hurt to put about 1/3 of a pound in there in order to add some protein to my carbs.

Terrible mistake.

I mean, on the one hand, yes, it tasted okay and added some protein where previously I wouldn’t have had any.

On the other hand, I can say with all certainty that tofu, as processed by yours truly, is a perfectly viable solution should we ever become less dependent upon fossil fuels. Holy David Wells did that stuff inflate my guts. So much for that.

*

Today I meant to do legs, among other things. But after dropping the kids off at the daycare I came home and crashed until 1pm. I woke up feeling like Rip Van Winkle, wondering if I’d look out the window and see that my neighbors were zipping around on personal hovercrafts. No such luck.

I did have a good leg workout. I did 75 of these things called Hindu Squats.

Again, Whit’s out there having a good laugh over this. See, I’m now walking like I have a broomstick in my butt.

Tomorrow ought to be amusing.

Tonight's Intervention

Just finished watching the new Intervention.

Many shows are devoted to two people, though this one featured only Tim.

He's young, early 20s I guess. Prodigiously talented musician, one who claims to have figured out the piano "in seconds," plays drums, sings, writes, and produces.

In fact, he does all of that for his girlfriend's band, Madyson and Elixir 9.

He's also a whoppingly dramatic, scary, off-the-rails crack addict.

***

As talented as he is, and as much potential as he has to succeed, he can't help but sabotage it all with his crack binges. And when the voice of reason pipes up--sorry!--at all (via Maddy), he goes into rather pathetic scenes, which are likely to include "I'm dying" OD scenarios.

I found his "I'm forgetting my name" stunt amusingly embarrassing. Loved it when Maddy reminded him that he'd just managed to remember HER name.

After a bender she tells him to take a hike. He tussles with her father, who shows remarkable self-restraint in not decking him despite the dozen or so justifications he was provided.

All of this takes place somewhere in Florida. Despondent after the big scene, Tim walks into a swamp.

***

I must admit that I hoped aloud that an alligator would appear and eat him.

***

Lo and behold, the intervention was really the tough love gesture it had to be. Tim's father shared some poignant words, really moving stuff.

And Tim said yes, headed off to treatment in Arizona.

***

He and Maddy seem to have a rather unhealthy obsession with each other, but you know, the guy's been clean since April. He looks much better, goes to group, goes to church, and wrote a love song for Maddy that he performs during his shows at a Scottsdale, AZ bar.

***

I must say, I didn't expect it to go that well.

***

My occasional pieces about the show Intervention draw some of the best numbers my blog gets. Months after a show I'll still get traffic about a particular person/episode. What I wrote about Chuckie Negron gets read each week.

I find it quite flattering. I'm one guy to whom this is important. I have empathy, but it's not boundless (see the alligator bit from above).

I want them all to succeed.

I want to help them. Most of them (again, see the alligator bit).

***

I'm going to do something unusual... I'm not going to say much about the band's music. I'll just say that it's not my cup of tea.

***

Take care. Thanks for stopping by.

International Wife

So International Wife, aka Kelli, is home.

It was a good, really sweet scene yesterday at the airport when she emerged from exactly the right door at exactly the right time. The kids ran over for hugs and kisses, and I captured the whole thing on video.

And I must say that for a woman who'd been in transit (and awake) for 24 hours, she was surprisingly together and HERSELF.

We went straight to Red Robin for a celebratory meal. Her only request: "No pasta."

***

We did a lot of catching up. She distributed gifts from across the world. The kids got a variety of whistling noisemakers. They're quite clever, mimicking bird, frog and other sounds. But when a toddler gets hold of them they become Weapons of Eardrum Destruction.

(I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong... I find it kind of amusing, actually)

***

So she got me something...

I wasn't expecting this.

I mean, I expected the tin of fine Illi coffee, sure. Vetivert lotion, niiiiiice.

But dude.

Dude!

She... appealed to the jacket fetishist in me.

***

I've long sought a 3/4 length jacket. I like to wear sweaters in the winter, and a standard length jacket often isn't long enough to pair well with them.

And you know, as many times as I've looked, as many times as I've found jackets that met the criteria, and for decent prices... I never found THE ONE.

Little did I know, THE ONE was in Florence.

***

She and some classmates had spent some time in the company of a leather shop proprietor named Marco. They'd had dinner even, gone out... I'd joked about Marco's intentions, but really... I was just joking.

This is his store.

THIS is the jacket she got me there.

Dude... it's... it's made out of antelope! It's got that suede look, but doesn't ruin if it gets wet like suede.

And the fit is perfect, just perfect. Kelli was far braver than I to invest in a garment like this and haul it across the world, hoping she got the size right.

She did. Wow. Sleeves, shoulders... perfect size, and can accommodate a sweater too.

It's currently 100.2 here. I'll wait until it dips below 95 to wear it around... (with my shorts and sandals, of course).

***

I can't locate her jacket on the site offhand, but if you poke around you'll see how much utterly cool stuff Marco sells.

***

The kids, of course, have clung to her pretty closely since her return. Her sleep schedule still needs adjusting, of course.

THEGIRL is in there napping with her right now.

***

Moment: Wondering where THEGIRL was this morning. I walked down the hall and saw her emerge from her brother's room, with a huge orange bucket covering her head. It was hysterically funny, and I was amazed that the maneuvered so well while wearing it.

***

So now we're just staying in, trying to avoid the heat.

***

Moment #2: THEGIRL, still in "bucket head" mode, wandering to the dinner table and lifting the bucket just long enough to grab a slice of tomato and eat it. I'm chuckling just thinking about it.

***

From the "Bigger" journal:

***
***

July 4, 2006

Happy Independence Day, everyone (even though you’re reading this in August).

*

This morning’s weight: 157

*

Cardio day, which is a tougher thing to accomplish with two kids in tow than you might imagine. I could… what, run around in circles in the living room?

We ended up going out to the college jogging track at about 11:30am. It’s nearly 90 in the shade, so I imagine it was plenty hot out on that track.

I took a big jug of drinks and a pair of big rubber balls for the kids to play with. I set them up on a bench in the shade and advised them to drink as much as they wanted and play with the balls.

I figured from the bench to the tennis courts is about 50 yards, so I started doing wind sprints there and back.

The kids hardly touched the balls. They wanted to run with me, yelling for me to wait or to play tag, or maybe that they were going to smash into me when I turned back around. I ended up barking out some very clear orders.

THEBOY, in full-blown Little Attorney mode, wanted to argue when I told him to scream as loudly as he could if that backwards hat-wearin’ young men across the road approached him. “I don’t want to scream, I want to do something else.”

Like what, an interpretative dance? I told him he has the loudest voice I’ve ever heard, and he should use it if he’s ever in danger.

“But I don’t waaaaaaant to.”

I had a look around to see if maybe there was a roving band of gypsies to sell him to, but had no luck.

*

Just had another protein shake. I dropped about three tablespoons of low-carb peanut butter into the blender, along with a banana. Now THAT was good! It helped the flavor nicely, and added even more protein.

*

But ye gods am I sore. THEGIRL pulled a stunt today, arching her back in mid-air as I picked her up. My sore muscles could barely handle the awkward angle, and I had to raise my voice at her.

Come on home, Kelli…

Aaaaaaaah

Kelli is home.

All is good.

Plenty more to come. She's fine, we're fine... time to crash though.

Entry #2 from last month's "Bigger" journal.

***
***

July 3, 2006

Ouch.

Well, I hit the gym this morning. At home I’m stocked up on protein powder. I bought a bunch of Egg Beaters in order to regularly include protein in my breakfasts, and I even bought some tofu to throw in with the occasional noodle meal, so it’s not just a carb boost but a bit better-rounded.

There’s always the matter of starting and all, taking that first step. I put on the workout clothes, hit the gym and WHOA was it a little crowded. Okay okay.

I stretched, eyeballed some free weights and machines and got started in earnest.

It went well until the incline press, when the pain in my shoulder that’s barked at me for years started howling. Ah crap. This may not just be old guy-itis; I might actually be injured. Crap crap crap.

Our insurance isn’t exactly stellar right now, seeing as how we got the stop-gap variety meant to only last until, hopefully, I get a job.

There’s a licensed massage therapist at Tiger Klay whom I’ll approach about looking at my shoulder.

***

Had another shake. Strawberry this time. I blended in a banana for some reason. Taste wasn’t bad, but man is this stuff filling.

Punching Bags, Barf Bags, Brown Paper Bags and Mulch

Gotta say that I find THIS to be highly amusing.

***

Got a lot done today, I really did. Noon was Krav Maga. Sensei had a bit of bad luck with an Arlington cop, so we got off to a somewhat late start. I didn't particularly care.

We did this thing called circuit training. Familiar with this? Every heavy bag had a note with instructions on it. We'd do two-minute drills at each bag, doing whatever two exercises were on the note. I got a bit gassed, I must admit. The front kick lunges were a bit of a bear.

I have never in my life barfed from a too-intense workout. I'm proud of that. I usually make a point of not resting with my hands on my knees; I don't even want to look like I'm close to launching the Ramen.

Today, the hands were on my knees. I wasn't in danger of really doing it, but you know, it did cross my mind.

***

After that I had a number of things to do. Worn out as I was, I really needed to cut the grass. I gulped some water and zipped across the front and back yards in 102 degree heat. Honestly, it wasn't that bad.

***

Showered, hit Albertson's, then picked up THEBOY's friend from Bedford and fetched the kids early from school, surprising THEBOY with an unannounced play date. The kids were good.

***

After the guest departed, though, THEBOY began to complain. He was alternately complaining about wanting to see his buddy again, about being hot, dizzy, having a headache and a stomach ache. Hmm. I didn't know if it was drama, fatigue, or maybe a bug.

And THEGIRL... look, I'm sorry to get gross, but that girl's guts have been in overdrive lately. She dirties up diaper after diaper.

I've been changing diapers since 2000, ya'll, and I still find the task only slightly less disturbing than, say, carrying a severed head in a paper sack.

IT.

IS.

REVOLTING.

***

She'd had a few bad diapers, and I hoped she was done as I took her and THEBOY out for our Friday evening Tex Mex. I was banking on his behavior to be the product of drama or fatigue. Thought some lemonade and queso might perk him up.

***

Overanxious Daddy at the restaurant thought #1: "Hmm... he suddenly got up to go to the bathroom. Surely he'd walk faster than that if he needed to hurl. Right?"

***

They were good, though THEBOY was still like an unwatered flower, just too quiet for comfort, lying down in the booth a lot, not eating much.

***

Overanxious Daddy at the restaurant thought #2: "That's just mole on her fingers, right?"

***

So we got home and THEBOY asked to lie down on my bed, watch a movie. I figured he'd crash soon, but he slowly perked up.

***

The girl continued to go through diapers at a rapid clip. I think one of them lasted about three minutes. You'd think it'd be logical to just let her keep one on a bit, let her finish her business before changing it, right? Well you never KNOW if she's done, and in the meantime the whole house smells like mastodon entrails. I change a diaper the first moment I know it's messy.

And you know, she's not acting sick or anything. She runs off (usually to her brother's empty room, which he'd be quite displeased to learn if he ever, you know, bothered to go in there). I'd find her in there and ask to see her diaper. She'd chirp "okay!" and bop on over to me like she'd just discovered that she's got a superpower, and it's pooping.

I started to ask for divine intervention after a while. I personally spoke to Jesus, Allah, the Buddha, and Phil Lynott in my attempt to cease the diaper onslaught. No luck until we reached diaper #6.

You read right.

***

Bless Heather, by the way. With puny THEBOY on my bed and THEGIRL going through diapers like Barry Bonds goes through needles, I realized we were nearly out of diapers. Heather was in the area and brought me some. We owe her bigtime for that. And I mean beyond the $15.99.

***

I didn't mean to go on and on about that. I'm not all that rattled. I'm glad THEBOY isn't sick, glad THEGIRL is asleep, glad to have a Rangers game to watch.

And I am glad beyond words that my wife is returning tomorrow evening.

***

Over the next several days I'm going to post a short "failed project journal." When Kelli left I had an idea to make a change. It didn't work out.

The first entry follows. Ya'll have a good weekend.

***
***

¡No Hue! Si Whey…

(It’s funny if you speak Spanish)

***

July 2, 2006

***

You’re reading this about a month after the fact.

That is, as I write this it’s early July. I’ve listened to the folks who tell me I’m too skinny (my wife and my father; my sister has only insinuated), and I’ve decided to do something about it.

I like feeling like this. I like being able to run moderate distances, like being able to emerge from the “kick-butt cardio” class at Tiger Klay with something left in the tank.

But I don’t like having no chest and skinny arms.

***

So with Kelli gone for over a month, and time to kill, I’ve decided to modify my workouts, under the guidance of Whit, and see if I can’t start to put on a few pounds of muscle for the first time ever.

I don’t eat much meat (simply a taste thing, not a product of moral compunctions), so I’ve never been that big.

I figure if I had the willpower to all but eliminate junk food from my diet for this long, I can mix in good sources of protein regularly.

I’ve also just purchased—God help me—a month’s supply of whey-based protein powder.

We’ll see if five weeks can make a noticeable initial difference.

***

I’ll write regularly about my progress or lack thereof. I’ll post these entries a month later (in August, when you’re reading them)

***

The guy at the GNC who sold me this stuff looked like Brendan Fraser in George of the Jungle. If the GNC folks would be broadminded enough to let that salesman actually work his shifts in a loincloth, I’m guessing he’d move a ton of product to straight women and gay men.

Really nice fellow though, not pushy at all. He all but beamed about his love for coffee and stimulant drinks as he handed me paper cup after paper cup of…something with creatine in it. Tasted like Gatorade, but I’ve been passing gas like a refried bean taste-tester ever since.

He babbled in workout terms and acronyms I’m not familiar with, though I know when he referred to “how vascular” I am, it meant I’m kinda freakin’ veiny.

***

I’m having the first of the protein drinks now… this is the vanilla-flavored one. 40 grams of protein in this, and it’s not bad once you get past the initial mulch-like flavor. And the instructions didn’t say anything about mixing it into coffee instead of water, but I’ve gotta say it isn’t bad.

Gettin' Freaky

Got a couple anecdotes from other folks who spoke up about being magnets for freaks or freaky stuff. First up, A. Huertas.

(You can find her Myspace site by going to MY Myspace site… she’s ANG. I’d put a link, but my lil’ Mac crashes every time I go to her site).

*

Oh wow, too much to list here! Mine are all straight women with issues that will bring to mind the movie Single White Female. I was stalked by a 45 year old straight married woman that happened to have the same name as me when I was 21. When I was in High School, there was a girl that was under a psychiatrists care and she took it upon herself to decide she no longer needed her meds. She sent me death threats describing how she would mutilate my body if I went to the prom. I had a restraining order on her, went to the prom where police officers were on site and instructed to be on alert for anything or anyone suspicious around me. It kinda made it difficult for the underaged drinking and such that goes along with prom. But oh! the memories. Not to mention the most recent freak that hit on my friends and then let me know that her husband would like to have us both. I didn't want to hang out and sing kareoke at her house, so she got the ball rolling on getting me fired. I could go on with these types of things but when I do, it really makes me feel like perhaps I am not a freak magnet, but really just a bitch that people want to see die or something. I dunno, but I'm alright with being a bitch too.

***

And now from the one and only A. Tamez.

*

Oh.....this is SOOOOOOOOOOo me!!!

Why do freaks like me????
Ok, so last weekend I'm at a concert (journey & def leppard).

When this lady sitting behind starts harassing me. Actually, I think she was hitting on me???

Anyways, she started off with small talk like ."Do you like Journey" , "Is
that Steve Perry", "Can't wait til Def Leppard plays so I can pour some sugar on me"....(ok like what does that mean??).

Anyways, I answered her questions politely and said I was here for Def Leppard and started munching on my nachos. My husband was annoyed by her but she was harmless.
Minutes later my husband wrapped his arm around me as we listened to a slow ballad from Journey.

Out of no where she "somehow" manages to squeeze her head between us and next thing you know I'm staring at her face and she says "hey, do you want to see me dance??" I responded and said "Um, no thanks...you can dance for
some one else" and turned around in my chair to face the stage.

Next thing I know her face is next to mine again and this time trying to kiss me....Security heard me "bitch her out and escorted her out".

Good thing because Def Leppard was about to set stage!!!!

Now my husband is nervous & jealous. He's like "now I have to be worried about both sexes after you!"


Oh well.....that's life in my world!

***

Well ladies, the way I see it, since neither sex is ever after me, I figure you’re just sort of ensuring the, uh, karmic balance and all.

Or something.

***

So anyone who has stories to tell please feel free to share them. I find this all pretty damn amusing.

***

Kelli comes home Saturday.

You could say we’re ready.

On Being a Freak Magnet

Thanks Bruiser for sharing this!

It's like the story of my life! I had a good hard laugh.

Un Survey

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.

“…through the sky” (from “What is a Princess?”
It’s one of my daughter's books)

2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. Air.
I’m using the Force to try to get the remote control over here, but it’s not working.

3. What is the last thing you watched on TV?

Currently watching Rangers game

4. Without looking, guess what time it is:

--145pm

5. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?

--1:40pm.

6. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?

Josh Lewin and Tom Grieve talking about baseball.

7. When did you last step outside? What were you doing?

Turning off the sprinklers

8. Before you started this survey, what did you look at?

A website

9. What are you wearing?

Navy blue sleeveless t-shirt, grey shorts, no shoes, Frisco Roughriders cap

10. Did you dream last night?

Yeah. Dreamed about Paul McCartney missing Linda.

11. When did you last laugh?

When talking to Whit on the phone.

12. What is on the walls of the room you are in?

White paint and 15-20 pictures my son colored, Scotch-taped here and there.

13. Seen anything weird lately?

Hmm… guy in the next lane rear-ended someone at 40mph on Pipeline Rd the other day… an infant with a Mohawk… a super-skinny woman with fake breasts the size of cantaloupes… a dog wearing a t-shirt… nope, just business as usual I’d say.

14. What do you think of this quiz?

I don’t

15. What is the last film you saw?

Does sitting through Curse of the Were-Rabbit twice on Sunday count?

16. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? Some enchiladas


17. Tell me something about you that I don't know:
I… don’t mind Abba

18. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
Eliminate anti-gay bias. I don’t understand, truly, why anyone gives a shit whom someone else is attracted to.

19. Do you like to dance?

No, I absolutely dread it.

20. Are you flexible?

For an old guy I do okay.

21. Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?

I have a girl, but don’t divulge her name online.

22. Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?

I have a boy too. Refer to 21

23. Would you ever consider living abroad?

Doubtful

24. What do you want to say to God when you reach the pearly gates?

“So… how are we gonna play baseball without any umpires?”

Current music: “I Wanna Die for X-Mas” by the Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs.

***

I dreamed Paul McCartney was in the press, lamenting his impending divorce and admitting he just couldn’t get over Linda.

And this morning I find an email from his marketing folks hawking his new classical album (the Latin title of which escapes me… so much for marketing).

***

“Beanery” is a funny word.

***

From last night’s lecture: 50% of the alcohol in the U.S. is purchased by 10% of the drinkers.

***

I introduced THEBOY to Ray Harryhausen via Jason and the Argonauts. He really digs the harpies and the big fight with the sword-bearing skeletons (aka “the Children of the Hydra’s Teeth”… some metal band really needs to snatch that one up).

***

Pitching for the Twins today: John “Boof” Bonser. Boof is a funny word too.

(Right, Llorca?)

***

Wow… Mike Young leads the Rangers in RBIs with 70. This is a #2 hitter. Impressive.

***

Whoa… I’m devoting today to job searches. Four applications out by lunch…

Check this out from one of the online applications:

As a tobacco-free Company, (BIG COMPANY)’s policy is to not hire candidates who use tobacco. Do you use tobacco?

(Nicotine testing is included as part of our pre-hire screening process.)

*

Jeez, they can do this? If I were, say, a recovering cocaine addict and applied for work at the very clinic where I was treated, they could not consider my substance abuse history when I apply. It’s part of the Americans with Disabilities Act.

So a company can exclude smokers from the get-go? I find this quite interesting.

***

Better jet. Holler! Drop me a line!

The Wringer

The paper is done. Printed, stapled... I don't feel like sitting through a lecture tonight. I wish I could just hand it in and walk out.

***

Things have gone okay lately. Took the kids to see their grandparents in Corsicana Sunday.

I take great pleasure in the new things THEGIRL says from time to time. At the dinner table she burst out with a very clear, "I like chicken!" much to everyone's amusement.

And she can say "Pocahontas" with startling clarity.

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I introduced THEBOY to drugs the other night.

Wow that sounds bad.

No, he's got all these old comics in his room, and we usually read one at bedtime. He happened to pick a Teen Titans which was really a thinly-veiled PSA. And one of the characters, a kid, DIED!

I hesitated briefly when I realized what was going on. Shoot, he's not yet six. But I couldn't come up with a compelling reason to avoid the topic either. I might have bailed out if I'd known someone would DIE.

And he cried at the end... he wanted to know if drugs are real, and if real bad guys sell them.

Aaaaaah shoot.

I won't go all "after schoo special" on you, but I explained to him that I know more about drugs than anyone he's ever likely to meet, and that one of my jobs as his parent will be to make sure he doesn't have to worry about drugs. It was the safest truthful answer I could come up with on the spot.

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Current music: "Here Comes a Regular" by the Replacements.

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My birthday is this month. I'll bet anyone who thinks they know when it is won't be right.

(It's a trick question)

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And I glance over at the paper and the cover page is printed in Courier, whereas the rest of the paper is in Times New Roman. Ah crap.

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KM went well today, more or less. Man, he put us through the wringer! Lots of one-minute drills. Over and over we did drills where we just pummeled the bag with punches, kicks or combos for a minute. Try it. I held up okay.

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Snack time. Be good.