thisiswhatyoushalldo

To GW On His 66th

The phone rings again.
Elvis Costello’s Almost Blue is playing in the back ground. A freshly poured cup of coffee cools on the coffee table. I stare at the phone. It doesn’t get answered much. Usually a bill collector or some such. I am troubled by the phone. That is where the bad news comes from. I got call on a cell phone telling me we were all getting laid off. News of the death of both of my grandmother’s came over the phone. And I found out an aunt and an uncle had passed away after phone call.
Today is my dad’s 66th birthday.
I got the news that he had inoperable cancer on a phone call. When I got that news, in October, 2000, I just sat in the shower for a long time, crying. I shouted out loud “Dad, you can’t die. I am not done showing you everything I can do yet.”
That thought is with me today and I think about my dad. He will have been gone two years at the end of the month and although the pain of his passing is still with me and very real, so are so many of the lessons and memories of his life.
He taught me how to take a short cut up an alley. How to take the hook out of the mouth of a fish – and out of the ear of a particularly clumsy boy. He taught me how to change the oil and the most important metaphorical lesson one can learn in life “When changing the first brake, it takes a few hours, even a day. After that, the other brakes can be changed in about 20 minutes.” I use that one in life a lot when I come across something I don’t understand.
My dad taught me to be involved in my community. I have let him down there. I must reconnect to family and community.
He taught me to accept those things you can’t change. I was never the football star and the jock. But I was pretty good in high school band and Boy Scouts. Dad changed his dreams of a star athlete son to fit the person I am. I know that and love him for it.
He is the reason I will always have a pet. Preferably a dog. He taught me how to spoil a dog with cheese and leftovers.
He taught me how to cook breakfast. He always kept a larder of food holed up in the cupboards and the freezer. That is a lesson I keep and apply today. I shall never starve because of the lessons of my father. He taught me to hunt deer and I still remember a rather uncomfortable lesson on how to gut and dress a freshly killed deer in the field. There is no joy in the killing of an animal but there is responsibility in the hunt and gather. A lesson passed on from father to son.
We made and flew a kite once. I keep a kite in the trunk of my car. You never know when . . .
We were out on the back patio once, drinking a beer, looking at the garden (we did that a lot) and cooking steaks on the grill. “The trick is the low temperature. You can’t rush things.”
I tried to learn carpentry and woodwork from him. But it wasn’t to be. We were not patient with each other in the wood shop. There are somethings a man must do alone by himself. With my dad that was making sawdust in the garage.
You can never have too many bungy cords. There is always a reason to go the store to buy a part. Life can be solved with the right tool. If you don’t have the tool, go to the hardware store and buy it. Buy mother a very nice, surprise Christmas present and sneak it home the last minute on Christmas eve. (She was always surprised.) Love your sister. Wood glue, duct tape and a hammer are very, very, very important. Don’t punch your fist in the wall and break it. Remember to move the snow blower out of the driveway (see the fist lesson above.) Buy a lotto ticket. “You can’t win if you don’t play.”
I wear a ring of his on my finger and glance down at it and think of him.
My mother has remarried and quickly moved on with her life. She can’t loose time, she says and is determined to be happy – and I am so very happy for her.
Since his death, my life has been pretty much on hold. I lost a job, an apartment, a grandmother, an uncle, a dog and a cat since that time.
It is my turn for lessons. I have no children of my own yet. And perhaps I never will. I am pretty selfish on how I spend my time. I didn’t learn that from my parents.
But I have rolled up my sleeves and decided to keep showing him what I can do. A growing to-do list of things to accomplish. He told me once he does what he does for himself, in order to have a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. I can live with that.
And through this, I am becoming happy again. I haven’t lost anything really. I have most of those material things back – an apartment, a cat, a job. And part of living is what is left behind and I still have parts of grandmother with me.
And I will also have parts of my dad.

Happy Birthday, Pop.

Lyttle Lytton Is Back

I have been re-reading It Was A Dark And Stomy Night at work this week, a collection of the entries in the annual Bulwer-Lytton contest where writers must submit the first sentence of a bad novel never written. And as I was reading, I was reminded of the Lyttle Lytton contest in which entrants were challenged to craft a sentence of less than 25 words as the first line of a novel not yet written. Ah, the joy of the well cast sentence – or the opposite, the joy of a poorly cast pun. Take a bit and read the entries for 2000, 2001 as well. Brevity makes for better jokes. Readerville does something similar in their forum about books that never were.

The Dog Ate Mother’s Toes

Dave Berry has created some fun before running off on vacation. Writing under the name Freemont A. Harkins, he has posted a short ditty at www.Poetry.com that includes the line “the dog ate mother’s toes.” And before heading to one of the square states for his vacation, he challenges his readers to craft poems using the first name Freemont as well and to also include the line ” the dog ate mother’s toes.” And, as they say, hilarity ensues. So, to get inspired, go to www.poetry.com and then enter the first name Freemont in the search window, get some ideas and see what happens.
Then, take fingers to keyboard and craft a ditty.
To copy the idea, I am going to use the first name Bethany and include the line “how cute is that!” and craft a ditty or two as well. Those who know Bethany should post as well. Post a poem over there and then tell us about it over here in the “Shoutbox” on the right.

Most Disturbing Hobby Of The Day

This was odd – And only in Las Vegas. Apparently a paint ball game park owner has decided to take “The Most Dangerous Game”, add naked women and paintball and is raking in the money. I am a bit dismayed at the idea, although everyone signs up voluntarily – the men in their paramilitary garb and women in their – well, in nothing, running naked through the desert hoping not to get shot.
Vid link of the game: (Not Safe For Work – naked women) Naked Women Under The Gun
And at the bottom of page – video link from the Las Vegas news channel.

via Metafilter

How The Economy Works

Well, finally, someone has taken the time to explain to me this economic conundurm – and laid a way to measure whether the Bush tax strategy and economic plan is successful. How to gauge a jobless recovery: According to the Economic Policy Institute, “every citizen can grade the Bush policy by checking the nonfarm payroll employment series each month. Any month that adds at least 344,000 jobs to the economy can be marked a success. And every month payrolls grow by less than 257,000 jobs, the policy is generating fewer jobs than would have been created without the ‘jobs and growth’ plan.”
So, check the monthly figures, check for a net increase in employment and you can tell whether we are gaining ground or losing ground under Bush. More included in their White Paper on the subject, “Jobless Recovery Stifles Growth.”

By the way, we are losing ground.

via Altercation

Super Pong

Japanese Kubuki puppet theater thing meets Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon/Matrix thing, meets high tech Ping Pong thing. This is a funny, funny video. You may have to watch it twice to get the full effect. Enjoy

The Chords Cannot Be Played

As I announced a few months back, I am trying to learn the guitar. And I must say, unequivocally that D7 cannot be played. At all. Ever. I understand that it is a basic chord and that there are amazing fretboard gymnastic feats to come. But at present this is my stumbling block. I despise you, D7, yes, yes I do.

Has She No Shame

A new book by Ann Coulter is bound to raise the hair on the back of your neck. Currently tracking number two on the Amazon best seller list and a New York Times bestseller, Treason, is her newest book where she lauds the efforts of Joesph McCarthy and challenges the patriotism and loyalty of anyone who dares have an opinion different then hers. In this Salon article, Joe Connason takes her to task. And of course, Coulter’s arch nemesis Eric Alterman has also taken her to task adding his best quote to date: “I try to avoid the words ‘Ann Coulter’.”
This woman is dangerous because people will read this book and then believe her. Believe her when she calls Truman a pinko communist sympathizer. They will believe her when she says that George Marshall was working for the communists in Europe after the war. And believe her when she builds her case defending McCarthy and how all the bad press he received was a treasonous liberal plot. The list goes on an on. I intend to read the book, but not until it shows up at a used bookstore so that I don’t have to give her any money to hear her highly incendiary opinions on how the world should be run.