Sunday, October 17, 2010
He grabs the bag and flashlight. Citing his green energy policies, Obama declares moritorium on batteries and gives the kid a solar powered flashlight for which he bills him $1,000.
Obama takes 40% of the candy, gives the rest back along with a new smaller bag with no handles and a very small opening at the top. Your kid says "I've already got a bag." Obama says, "Everybody wants this bag and we're going to charge $250 a month for it."
The kid says "I don't really need new bag. I have a bag and it wasn't that expensive." Obams says "Some people don't have a bag and this will help them get a bag." The kid points out that if they want a bag, they should pay for it themselves. "I shouldn't have to pay for their bag if I already own one."
Obama says "This way, everyone will have the same bag." The kid says, "But my bag is better. It has a large opening and I can choose to put a lot in or take a lot out any time I want." Obama says "Yes, but the new bag regulates how much you put in." The kid thinks for a second and says, "No, what it really does is regulate what I can get out of it."
The kid says, "I have a bag, and it's paid for already." Obama says, "But this way, everyone can have access to the bag which you have." The kid, with logic on his side, points out that he should be able to choose which bag he wants. Obama closes the door.
He then takes "his" part of the candy and gives it to kids who don't even go trick or treating. Oh, and illegal aliens.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The issue was gay marriage. Callers were understandably split, as this is a divisive issue both socially and politically. Most who opposed gay marriage cited the Bible as the source of their objection. They use terms like "sanctity of marriage" and "union between man and a woman." Those who support gay marriage usually don't cite anything. They just say that it doesn't bother them, or that society has evolved. They will say that society is more accepting of inter-racial marriage and people who live together and never marry than it once was.
Then there was Terry from Overland Park.
He wanted to know why more people didn't mention studies done in countries that allow gay marriage, 70% of the children born in that country are illegitimate. The people in Holland and Denmark, he said, where gay marriage is allowed, are popping out illegitimate kids at an alarming rate. Why weren't people mentioning those studies?
I reached for my cell phone.
First of all, I hate the term "illegitimate children." All children are legitimate. They all need food and clothing and love. To me, it doesn't matter the marital state of their parents. Do "legitimate" children suddenly become illegitimate when their parents divorce?
I'm getting off the subject at hand. Suffice it to say that no one addressed Terry's concerns about why these studies to which he was privy were never cited. And I never got through to the station to voice my opinion.
So I'm going to use this forum to state my opinion about gay marriage and Terry's opinion about those studies.
I have searched the Internet and haven't found those studies. I've found opinions in support of some studies that kind look at that correlation. One even went so far as to examine possible objections to his opinion.
You might say, “Correlation doesn’t always indicate causation.” Yes, but often it does.Wow. That's compelling. Yes, but often it does. The author then went on to talk about no-fault divorce, which has nothing to do with gay marriage. Like Terry, he offered no real support for his opinion.
Children being born out of wedlock (another of my favorite terms) are not the result of gay marriage. How can it be? By and large, gay people are not breeders.
In those countries that allow gay marriage, adoption by gay couples is more prevalent. A child who needs a family is adopted by two people in a loving committed relationship? Fine by me. In my mind, that child is much better off than one who is brought up by a single parent who either can't support him or doesn't want him.
In direct response to Terry from Overland Park, I would say that no one cites those studies for several reasons:
- No one can find them.
- Even the most ardent anti-gay marriage Bible thumper has to agree that any argument citing the correlation between gay marriage and illegitimate kids is thin, at best, when discussing gay marriage. At worst, it's irrelevant.
- You're a jackass for thinking that way.
If I had gotten through to the radio station, I wonder if I could have snuck that one by the sensor. Probably not.
I think a lot of people have problems with the semantics. "Don't call it marriage. Call it a civil union." That's a crap argument, too.
Marriage is a civil union, even if you get married in a church. Don't believe me? Try getting married in a church by a preacher, minister or priest without presenting them with a license. The state is giving its OK for the union, the church is just providing the place and the officiant. (Ours was George Harrison... the banker, not the Beatle.)
In the end, I have to agree with a lot of the people who called when I say I'm fully in support of it. Two people in a committed relationship should not be denied the same rights that I have when it comes to the economic benefits of marriage, if there are any. They should be able to buy a house together, be eligible for insurance provided by their partner's employer if it's better, be allowed to inherit property without contest, and be allowed the power of attorney when it comes time to make decisions.
They should be subject to the phone calls about when they'll be home, the nagging about their habits or hobbies, the arguments about money or toothpaste on the counter, or whose turn it is to carry out the trash. Who am I to deny them that?
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
But, I digress. To the matter at hand...
I'm going to tell you a hypothetically true story about a man named Paul. Paul is a good man. He has a wife and two kids. He's in his 50s and is a contractor. He's built his company from the ground up. He has a good income, but isn't RICH by any means.
Here's the sad part. Paul's got a bad ticker. He's a fighter, though. So there's hope.
After Christmas, Paul has a heart attack He's waiting for a transplant, but it doesn't look good. He lies on his deathbed, with those who love him surrounding him. They celebrate New Years Eve in the hospital. On New Years Day, slipping in and out of consciousness, he imparts his final words of love and wisdom to his family. He tells them that he has had a good life and that he has lived his dream to see his children grow and start families. He has no regrets. He tells them that in his will, he will leave the family business to his son and daughter, who have both worked to help the business grow.
Pual dies. He has planned well. He has made the arrangements and the family has the funeral and pays their respects. They tell their stories about their patriarch. Slowly, normalcy returns and they get back to their lives.
Until one day, the business receives a certified letter from the US government. It seems they have a tax matter to settle and they have to go downtown to see the IRS. Did the old man forget something, they wonder. He seemed to have everything else in order.
Yes, he forgot one thing. Well, not so much forgot. He just didn't know about it because it has been kept hush-hush.
Enter Obama. Stage left. (That's funny.)
In a footnote of the US budget, on page 127, the Estate Tax has been resurrected. Probably the most despised of all the taxes, commonly referred to as the "Death Tax," it was part of the Bush tax cuts of 2001, and it was hoped by many to be a memory of the old tax code.
Why is it despised? Because it is unfair.
"But why is it unfair?" you ask. Easy.
Taxes have already been paid on that income. He has built the business and lived comfortably, but is by no means rich. He makes a good living but, like many businesses started from the ground up, he has reinvested in it over many years. It is a small business, but has about $10 million in assets.
The government, by reinstituting the Death Tax, is now due 55% of what our hero has passed down. The company now owed $5.5 million on assets upon which Paul has already paid taxes. How do they handle this debt?
Selling the business is an option, but no one will buy the business with that kind of tax burden.They can take on the debt personally, but is that feasible or fair? The simple answer is "No," because, in all reality, they can't pay it. They don't pay themselves that much in salary.
Economic reality for the middle class.
A man lives his whole life, working and saving to pass something down to his kids so that they may have a better life. (Quiet down, feminists. I know women also do, but for the sake of this story, our hero is a man.)
Putting children in a position where they have to close the business and turn over assets is an economic reality. People will lose jobs. Small businesses will close. Because of a footnote. Because Obama is going to extraordinary measures to raise taxes to pay for his political agenda.
What Obama will say, if anything.
He'll say this doesn't effect the middle class. That only the richest 2% will have to pay it. Unless you happen to own a business with $3.5 million in assets. That's going to account for a lot of businesses in this country.
He'll say that you won't have to worry about it. Unless you happen to work for one of those small businesses.
He'll say this is not a new tax. He is merely allowing the Bush tax cuts to expire. Which is just a horse shit lie.
George Steinbrenner died this year. His kids are SO lucky.
This is kind of an extreme example, but an excellent one. Steinbrenner a few weeks ago. He's passing on his New York Yankees empire, and his children will not have to pay any estate taxes on it, which is fair, in my opinion. Mr. Steinbrenner already paid taxes on that income. No sense to subject it to taxation once again. Because he died when he did, his sons and daughter saved half a billion dollars in estate taxes.
So in closing, I will apologize to my sons in advance for the tax burden they will inherit, because I don't plan on dying this year. Now if I can just make it to the $3.5 million exemption level, but that's really the fun part.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Everyone knows that it increased under Bush. We're not here to argue that point. Republicans try to justify it as necessary because of 9-11 and the fact that we were and are continuing to fight wars on two fronts. Democrats campaigned that spending was out of control in the last election and their plan to combat the spending is to spend EVEN MORE.
It's as if not one elected representative in Washington would stand up for common sense. These individuals who we choose lose their damn minds when they arrive in the capital. Yes, some Republicans are just as guilty, but the last bill
The national debt grew by almost $5 trillion under Bush. In 18 months under Obama, it has grown $2.3 trillion thanks to the stimulus bill and other pork-ridden bills which show that the ruling party has no interest in getting spending under control.
The ones that vote to spend beyond the means, get them the hell out. Don't even let them on the ballot unless they know that we have to operate on a balanced budget.
Let's face it... it's OUR fault for putting these ass clowns in Washington in the first place. We should, and as Americans we always do, bear the brunt of our elected officials' mistakes.
Paying Down the National Debt
I'm a common sense guy. I'm a patriotic guy. Most people probably are, I think. So why can't we combine those two things to pay down this debt?
Every family has to file a tax return, right? Right. No matter what, it has to be filed. People either owe taxes, or they are owed a refund.
Here's where common sense comes in. For six years, each household pays $10 per person in that household. There's no getting around it, and there's no loophole. If you owe money, when you write the check to pay your income taxes, you just write another check. If you are owed a refund, you have them deduct that amount.
The first year, the government would take in $3 billion. I did my math in a vacuum. I assumed a static population, call it "one in, one out." I also didn't account for inflation, interest or population increases. Perhaps most importantly, and most improbably, I assumed Obama wouldn't spend any more than he already has. (It's estimated he'll add another $4 trillion to the National Debt by the end of his first term.)
By my calculations, it would take 4300 years to pay down the National Debt.
That's doable. Right?
The Reason for This Rant on How to Pay Down the National Debt
I wrote this with the goal of discovering just how much debt the U.S. is in, how much each person owes ($42,000 and change) and what an impossible situation our government perpetuates. Unless our country gets a grip on spending, we've got no chance of paying down this debt.
What I learned:
- Spending our way out of debt is a stupid, stupid idea
- Anyone who has voted to spend more money shouldn't be in office
- We the people need to pay more attention to what our representatives do in Washington
- The U.S. needs a balanced budget amendment
- $13 trillion is a lot
- We can't pay it
Friday, July 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
As per usual, it seems that the media and Internet have exaggerated the outrage. I've seen a quote from one survivor who expressed his displeasure. He's allowed to be upset. I don't agree with him, but I wasn't there. I respect his opinion. But his quote is the only one I've seen on major news sites which do not like the routine. He's Polish. He lives in England. I guess that's what passes for "worldwide furor" these days.
Adolek Kohn, his daughter Jane Kormen, and Mr. Kohn's three grandchildren are shown dancing to "I Will Survive." They can't really keep time, but they're not auditioning for "So You Think You Can Dance" or "America's Got Talent." They're celebrating and giving the bird to that which scarred him, but did not kill him. And so, like Kevin Bacon, Chris Penn, Sarah Jessica Parker and the rest of the "Footloose" cast, they danced to celebrate without regard to what the establishment thinks. They danced at Auschwitz, at Dachau and at Terezin.
The opinions of others who are outraged, I don't give a crap about. If you weren't there, you don't get to judge this man's actions. He's not making money from his experience. He said that he's trying to reach out to a younger generation so that they may know what happened. He gets to do that. It also gives the finger to idiots who say the Holocaust didn't happen.
This man survived the most horrific mass murder of all time. If he wants to dance at Auschwitz, he EARNED that right. If he wants to take a dump under the "Arbeit Macht Frei" sign, more power to him. If he wanted to dress up a dummy in a Nazi uniform and kick the hell out of it and set it on fire, he's got that coming.
Mr. Kohn can do anything he wants; he survived against all odds, had what I guess is a nice life, has a daughter and grandchildren who love him and wanted to accompany him on his travels back to the place where his life wasn't worth anything. That is the essence of survival. He can celebrate in whatever way pleases him.
To Mr. Kohn and his family, I say "Dance on." I wish you would have danced at the other sites of human oppression and murder. I hope you continue to dance and to film and to share. I just hope that you get away from disco.
Disco sucks, man.
Friday, July 9, 2010
We headed south to Omaha, with nothing on the agenda except getting to the hotel. Doing nothing in Omaha was better than trying to find something to do in Pierre.
We found the hotel. Took us two tries, but we found it. They directed us to a sports bar next door and we had an early dinner. They marinated their steaks in whiskey; something I've got to try. The server was very friendly and Ashley took the boys to swim for a while.
The grandma's took the boys for the night while Ash and I drove across the river to Council Bluffs, Iowa to play some poker at Horseshoe. It's a surprisingly big poker room, and the game I joined was very aggressive. Unfortunately there were no weak players. I missed one opportunity when I flopped a full house and the two players in the hand folded to my raise. I'm still kicking myself for that.
We played blackjack for a little while. It was the dealer's first night and took about half an hour to get through one shoe. He had trouble adding. He threw a card on the floor. As he was rearranging his tray, chips exploded all over the tray. It was comical.
The next morning, we took the boys to the Omaha Zoo. All in all, it's a cool zoo and I highly recommend it, particularly to my friends in Kansas City. If you've never been, KC's zoo sucks as much as anything imaginable. It's sad, really.
Of particular note is the aquarium. That was almost worth the price of admission by itself. The butterfly house is OK. They also have a desert dome and underneath it, a display of nocturnal animals and cave dwellers. Don't miss that.
It rained off and on, and finally got to be too much, so we headed back to Kansas City. Omaha is a nice town with a lot to offer, so I think we'll be going back.
Then again, I may just be comparing it to Pierre.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Ashley doesn't like to travel very far in a car. Four hours is about her max, and she'd already endured two six hour stretches. So she thought Pierre was a good stopping point. After all, as the state's capital and largest city, there has to be things to do in Pierre, SD.
She looked up "Things to do in Pierre, SD" and found that they had a very good hands on science museum for the boys. They have experiments. They have dinosaurs. They have an aquarium.
The experiments are things they do in fourth grade science. Or art. They have a two way mirror thing. The aquarium? Five fish, all from the Missouri river two blocks away. Plus they have given their dinosaurs vocalization, so every five minutes, the place erupts with a screaming T-Rex. It's annoying.
We noticed that Perkins is probably the best restaurant in Pierre. We chose to have dinner at the only Mexican place in town besides Taco John's. After all, it's hard to screw up Mexican food, right?
Let's just say that those people worked hard, really hard, and leave it at that. Except that we all really wished we'd chosen Taco John's.
We drove all around looking for things to do in Pierre... ANYTHING. So I devised a list.
TOP 10 Things to Do in Pierre, SD
#10 Read the pamphlet at the hotel "Things to do in Pierre, SD"
#9 Drive around looking for things to do in Pierre, SD
#8 Argue with a local about the pronunciation of the word "Pierre." (They say "Peer." Everyone else in the country says it correctly.)
#7 Go to the Science and Discovery Center and comment on how much it sucks.
#6 Go to the only Mexican restaurant in town and comment on how much it sucks.
#5 Go back to the hotel and talk about how there are no things to do in Pierre, SD.
#4 Explain to the boys that Nebraska will be much better than Pierre with a straight face.
#3 Create travel slogans for Pierre. My favorite one was... too full of profanity to publish here.
#2 Go to bed at 9:30, so you can get an early start on getting the hell out.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tristan's statement of the day was "I wanna go to the beach." He's remembering two years ago when we went to Corpus Christi. I didn't have the heart to tell him there's no beach in South Dakota. As many of you know, Tristan has OCD and autism, so he repeats phrases over and over when he's unsure of what's going on. I think he said "I wanna go to the beach" 529 times in two hours. It kinda made me want to turn the car around and drive to Texas.
We drove from Kansas City to Mitchell, South Dakota. If you've never been, it's a charming little town, really. The big point of interest is The Corn Palace. It's a palace type structure; the outside is covered with murals all made of... wait for it... corn.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
roasted red bell peppers (jarred works, do it yourself is better)
5 cloves garlic
ground black pepper to taste
red pepper flake to taste
roasted red bell peppers (jarred works, do it yourself is better)
1 bulb garlic, with cloves split length-wise
ground black pepper to taste
red pepper flake to taste
1 cup julienned baby spinach
5 cloves garlic
ground black pepper to taste
Sunday, June 6, 2010
In "The Cowboys," as John Wayne (as Wil Andersen) is leading a group of youngsters on their first cattle drive, the come across an Indian burial ground. Cimarron asks what it is and Mr. Andersen says "Little Big Horn." Cimarron says "They didn't even give him a decent grave!"
"It's not how they bury ya.- John Wayne (as Wil Andersen in "The Cowboys")
It's how they remember ya that counts."
That has always stuck with me... It's how they remember you that counts.
John Wooden built one of the most dominant powerhouse college programs ever at UCLA. He won 10 NCAA championships in 12 years, had four perfect seasons, and was inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame as both a player and coach.
He coached basketball for 30 years, but Mr. Wooden has been known longer as a teacher, humanitarian and thinker since the mid-1970s. He was humble, wise, giving and brilliant. I think it would be even more fitting if he was remembered as a teacher than a basketball man, and I think he would be proud if that was the case.
I read a short piece about Mr. Wooden after he passed away about the folks who saw him almost every day in his favorite diner. I thought it fitting that the kids he has talked to over the last 12 years in the diner probably do not realize he was one of the greatest coaches who ever taught the game. So I'll finish this with my favorite quote:
What you are as a person is far more important- John Wooden
than what you are as a basketball player.
Friday, May 14, 2010
On the day I turned 40 (and I'm not exaggerating here) I could no longer read the birthdate on a driver's license while wearing contacts. Bad news if you're in the bar business. I was relegated to using reading glasses. I didn't like it much. Made me feel old.
My hair gets more and more gray and it seems I never notice it until I get a haircut. What was once a dark brown changed to half brown/half gray, and I fear is now well past 50-50 and working its way toward the silver that was my Grandfather's hair. Except that his never fell out. At least I know I've earned my gray hairs. Having twins, running a bar, being married to a woman... all of this earns the gray.
From the Weaver side of the family, I got this male pattern baldness that leaves the back and sides nice and thick, while the hairline recedes. But this recession is not graceful, no. There's a thatch of hair right on top that poofs up an demands attention. Right behind that is a line of shiny, shiny scalp. To top it all off, I've got a wicked scar which is becoming more visible as time goes on. Drunken horseshoe game... 'nuff said.
I've always heard the oldtimers talk about their knees aching when it was going to rain, and I never knew whether to believe them or not, but now, I know. I blew up an ankle playing soccer in college and it is in a constant state of swelling. I can tell you two days before it's going to rain. The winter is worse, though.
For years I played volleyball four or five nights a week. Being a big guy, my knees took a pounding. I have no cartilage left. When I walk up stairs it sounds like they're covered in Rice Krispies. In the winter, they ache any time there's a front moving in. Doesn't matter if it's a warm front or a cold front, my knees ache.
My hands hurt and I don't know why. I could understand if I'd come up through the Golden Gloves, or worked the docks as a longshoreman, but this can't be anything but an old journalism injury from back in the days when cutting and pasting required an X-acto knife and hot wax. I know I'm stretching with it being a journalism injury, but it's really all I've got to explain why my hands hurt. Plus, it's kind of funny.
I've noticed too, that physical lamentations aren't the only thing I can associate with getting older. Never one to be secretive about how I feel (please read "Why I'm an Asshole" if you need a refresher), I now have zero tolerance for stupidity. There is no leeway here. If you're an idiot, I'll tell you that you're an idiot, why you're an idiot and exactly what you should do to remedy the situation. Usually that begins with getting the hell away from me.
There's no end to the myriad of ways people can piss me off these days. From the poker table ("Why did you play that? Ya moron!") to the highway (Slow drivers piss me off. Fast drivers piss me off.) to stupid changes (Don't get me started on red light cameras) to the political climate ("Nothing good ever came from a Republican. I only pull one lever when I vote.") I'm Archie Bunker without the bigotry.
I'm more interested in the Weather Channel these days. I notice I've been alive for more events depicted on the History Channel. I'm getting more disenchanted with TV. Do we really need to know about the real lives of housewives anywhere in the country? Especially bitchy, rich housewives?
I hate listening to the radio now because I usually can't stand new music and Van Halen is now on the oldies station. And not the cool station that plays older stuff... the oldies station that used to play songs from the 50s and 60s but changed format because their audience was diminishing. I did recently come across a station in KC that calls itself "Gen X Radio," which is great, but I get a lot of odd looks from kids when I'm blasting "Evenflow" and an ad for Flow Max immediately follows.
Yes, it sucks getting older. The little aches and pains are to be expected. I just wish my ankles wouldn't crack so loud when I get up to pee in the middle of the night. It's not so bad at 1:15 and 3:05, but at 4:30 I'm afraid it will wake the boys.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
So today is Mother's Day and I'm trying to write a poem for my Mom. There's really not a Hallmark card that I would say represents my Mom very well because she's not like the Moms described in the lacy, gauzy cards. I thought I'd write a few different styles because it would be funny.
There once was a woman named Shirley
I'll stop there. There aren't many words that rhyme with Shirley. A limerick is supposed to be funny, and "burly" lends itself to being funny, but Mom has lost some weight over the past year, so it doesn't really fit. Besides, I don't really want to write anything that would make her mad. First of all, I don't want to embarrass her and secondly, I don't want to get my ass kicked.
Drops of wisdom fall
We catch them in our bucket
Makes life easier
Haiku are supposed to be non-sequitor. Check. They follow a certain syntax. 5-7-5... Check. But like limericks, as a rule haiku suck unless they're funny, and to be funny, they have be dirty. Again, I don't want to get my ass kicked.
Mom, you have always been there for us
Although I didn't always like what you said
Sometimes she'd yell and scream and cuss
And get so mad her face would turn red
But it was out of love.
... And then I just sort of lost it because it was funny and I couldn't get back on track. The poem wasn't that good anyway. Trying to write a poem about my Mom is difficult at best. My mom is not a poetry inspiring person. My Mom isn't really the type to accept frilly praises easily. I think she gets embarrassed when people get all gushy about her. Because I don't think she really thinks she's doing anything out of the ordinary.
Usually the visual is all wrong. Usually there's a picture of flowers against a perfectly lit window on an antique table. My Mom isn't like that. Don't get me wrong... she decorates her house, but the grandkids would tear up the flowers and antique tables aren't real sturdy and dependable. My Mom is though.
The perfect card would have to have a visual that says something you can count on in when times are difficult. She's a big Cardinals fan. I should look for a card with Hall of Fame relief pitcher Bruce Sutter on it. He'd come in in the 8th when the starter got in a jam; runners on first and third, one out. He'd get a double play ball to end the inning. Then he'd mow down three hitters in the 9th notching a win.
Not exactly common in Mother's Day card offerings.
My Mom is hard to shop for. Really hard. She just says "Nothing" when you ask what she wants and when she needs something, she just goes out and gets it. She'd be happy with a day with her kids and grandkids. Unfortunately my family and I can't be in Wichita with her today.
Maybe I'm just making the whole process too difficult.
Just say it
My Mom is awesome. She kicked my ass when I needed it. She was there to loan me money, give advice, listen when I got my heart ripped out, and would drop everything to be here when I needed her help. I call her almost every day, even if it's just to talk about why LaRussa's screwing up by hitting the pitcher in the eight spot. Our relationship has seen some rocky times, but I'm glad to have my Mom's blood in me. She's funny, loyal, smart, stubborn, dependable and tough. I haven't always been the best son I could be, but I think she's been the best Mom I could hope for.
And for that, I am eternally grateful.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
My Dad was a simple man. He always wished for the same thing on his birthday. "Health, wealth, good friends, and time to enjoy them." He liked hanging with his family. He liked being outside. He liked dogs and kids. He liked old trucks and the 57 Chevy. He told the same jokes and the same stories over and over again, although the stories sometimes involved different characters and had different endings. (My Dad was full of shit, but in a good way.)
He liked fire. He would make little fires on our back patio in a cast iron dutch oven. My Mom always was a little bit afraid he'd burn down the house. After he died, we built a fire in his smoker that stayed burning for five days. We'd gather around, drink beer and tell stories about him. I think that Dad would think that it was a right proper send off.
My brothers and I have very different personalities. I think if you ask anyone who has known us through the years and knew my Dad, they'd tell us all, "You're a lot like your father."
I can't think of a greater compliment.
We played "Live Forever" at his funeral right after I delivered the eulogy. Some say it's about religion, and that may be true; I can't say what was going through Mr. Shaver's head when he wrote it. But to me, it's about passing the right information to the next generation, and in that, leaving behind a legacy.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
when I have a moment's peace
I want to share it with you
and I miss you seeing you
I find myself thinking of you
even when we are home
and you are sleeping the sleep
of a tired Mom and teacher
who earns her rest every day
I find myself thinking of you
all the time, angel darlin
when we plan to have time of our own
and we can do the things
we often don't get to do.
I find myself thinking of you
when I am puzzled by life,
I don't know where I'm going,
or I don't know what to do
but I know without doubt
I'll find myself thinking of you.
Friday, April 30, 2010
It all started innocently enough. A couple of girls in my wife’s class told her she should read the book and, being a teacher who likes to keep up with what the kids are reading and watching, she did. She bought the paperback version of “Twilight.” She read it rather quickly, after all, she has a masters degree and we’re not talking Dostoevsky here. It was written for 12-year-olds.
Twilight Nerds Unite
Team Jacob vs. Team Edward
In November, the movie came out. I was told under no circumstance was I to make plans for that Friday night. All the mush-heads made plans to see the 4:25 showing. I asked if she was even going to come home from work. She said, “Yes. I’m going to stop by.” Ashley left the house at 3:00. Her group numbered three dozen, ranging in age from 12 to 63. My mother-in-law wasn’t even the oldest on in the group. There were only four girls under the age of 16.
Let’s check the score. First book… two copies, one pirated CD, two copies on DVD. Oh, she has it for her Kindle, too. The hardback has been signed by Meyer. She’s seen the movie in theaters three times, although I have a sneaking suspicion that she and Dana saw it again when she was in town for Christmas and she just didn’t want to tell me. She’s read the book twice and listened to it I don’t know how many times. Second book… hardback, CD, DVD, Kindle. She saw it twice the night it opened, and once the night of the DVD release party. Third book… hardback, signed by the author; she’s read it twice, and now has it on Kindle. She'll read it once more before the movie comes out, "just as a refresher." Last book… hardback, and she’s getting ready to finish it for the second time.
We're not addicted. We're enthusiastically devoted
The next installment, "Breaking Dawn," premiered in September, I think. Whatever. The band of mush-heads, numbering about four dozen now, showed up wearing t-shirts, gift bags, the whole nine yards.
One of the local news channels even got wind of it and sent a crew out to the theater. Ashley called me twice on my cell phone, twice on the land line and texted me twice to make sure that I recorded it. I sent her a text with a picture of the DVR schedule so she'd know that indeed, I had done my duty for the night. And the boys are doing just fine, thanks for asking, honey.
Out of morbid curiosity, I watched the newscast. There in high definition is my lovely wife and her merry group of mush-heads wearing still more shirts which say "We're not addicted. We're enthusiastically devoted" on them, along with the Twilight logo. The crew interviews Ashley, who's wearing a Burger King crown with a New Moon promo on it. In fact, so is everyone else. So somewhere there are four dozen little girls who couldn't get a Burger King crown with a New Moon promo on it so these people could have them. OK. Whatever.
By the way, Ashley wouldn't let me delete the newscast off of the DVR for five months.
Will the madness never end?
Apparently, I have the answer. A few weeks ago, the second movie came out on DVD. The merry band of mush-heads got together to watch both movies. Again. I’d already had plans to go to a fundraiser for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, but I was told that I would have to watch the boys that night, as this had been planned for quite some time. “But it’s not on the calendar,” I pointed out. “Plus I asked you if you wanted to go to the fundraiser and you said you would if we could get your Mom to babysit.”