Ouch…

So, I’ve developed a whole new respect for those guys on the field.  You know the ones with the spandex pants and the big goofy helmets.  The ones that throw a ball the length of a football field, over and over again and make it look easy.

I threw a ball about 20 feet over and over again and I can barely move my arm.

I dearly love my brothers.  My sister too for what its worth, but this little tale is about my brothers.  We were over at the folks’ house this weekend and they very kindly invited me to play catch with them.  I think they may have invited before but I’ve never played before.  At least that I remember.  This time; however, I decided to give it a go.

My parents front yard is not huge, but it’s well maintained with short cut soft green grass. On this occasion, four of the 7 brothers were arranged on opposite corners with two actually running in and out of the street. We played for about an hour and a half during which time I managed to hold my own against four guys who are in much better shape than this ole man. You wouldn’t think it had been years since I handled a football. We had a great time. We very quickly had two football’s going and at one point my brother Jared joined in making it five of us.

The weather was perfect. A very light breeze blew through the neighbors trees but didn’t make it hard to throw the ball. It just kept the temperature down on a clear sunny day made for being outside (if your into that sort of thing).

We played until we were exhausted and I must again thank Adam, who works out regularly for giving in first and thus not making me look like a total whimp. I gave in too and spent the rest of the afternoon sounding like an asthmatic with a 5 pack a day habit; but other than that I felt fine!

Until I got home.

Shortly after getting home, I started to really feel my shoulder. It didn’t take long before I could barely move it. A very long night followed where I woke up frequently barely able to move. Cut to work and I groan when I reach for the mouse.

All of that said, I would do it again in a New York minute. That evening, at about eleven thirty, I got a message from one of my little brothers expressing his appreciation for my coming out to play with them. It meant a lot to him. It was a great afternoon for me and this simple note had made it all the more meaningful.

I love my brothers. I appreciate their invitation to play. I had a great time and I dearly hope they will invite me out again.

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So Breakfast was successful albeit messy.
So here’s the premise… when I worked for American Express, the building I was working in had a full service catered cafeteria.  I blame said cafeteria for my waistline.  To make a long story short, I went from drinking a case of Mt. Dew a night while working up a sweat to drinking a case of Mt. Dew a day combined with buttermilk biscuits and hash browns and cheese with chili verde while sitting on my tail and typing at a computer.

So, potentially, you see the problem coming…

My current employer is situated in a building with a full service catered cafeteria.  They do a hash browns and cheese which has become a regular staple for breakfast.  The problem… no verde.  We’ve suggested it with mixed responses, but the result is still … no verde.

So being the problem solver that I am, I decided to cook up a solution… verde.  I bought a can.  I bought containers which I could store in my fridge and cups in which to cook the verde.  I even bought a can-opener.

After making a bit of a mess in my office trying to move the verde from the can to the bowl to the cup, I determined a couple of things.  A)  I should have bought a spoon or ladle and maybe some large tarps for the process.  B)  The cups were a very good idea and my previous concern regarding their melting while I microwaved the verde was unfounded.  C)  I’ve missed potatoes with cheese and chili verde a great deal and I should have done this months ago.  Of course, the good folks at the cafeteria could have saved me a great deal of hassle by simply offering it on the menu but … this’ll do.

So… the next question you ask is what about my waist?  Well, I’ll miss it.

“This is Halloween!” -Danny Elfman

There’s that familiar feeling.  You know that buzz that goes up the back of your spine when you start to see just a few too many candy corns showing up in stores.  The weather is cooling and my horns are starting to tingle.
I love Halloween.

Truth be told, I feel like this all the time but it’s nice when the rest of the world catches the bug and joins me in my celebration of the macabre.  I’ll just turn up the volume on my Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack and revel in the new Cradle of Filth album while I shop for the trappings of this year’s haunted endeavor.

This year I get to introduce a new character to the voices in my head.  The girls have decided to do a “Nightmare” version of Alice in Wonderland for this years maze and I get to play the Hatter.  I’m going through the original Lewis Carroll descriptions and searching the net for variations.  I have always identified with crazy characters.  This is going to be fun.

In the meantime, I’m digging out the Halloween music and starting to feel that vibe that doesn’t quite go away until some time after October 31st (then the roar dies down a bit until next year).
Halloween is coming kiddies, and the darkness get’s it’s turn to play again, and this year, I’m in a particularly twisted mood.

“I am the shadow on the moon at night, filling your dreams to the brim with fright.” -D.E.

Beauty

I lie here thinking about the beauty that surrounds me.  Boy, now that sounds a lot less creepy than what’s actually going on in my head.  Can I just say that I am partial to the female form.  That said, I have never met a woman that was happy with her form regardless of how beautiful it may be.

I know some guys are equally hung up about their appearance but this condition certainly seems to have a specific gender slant.

So, why do I write this?  Well, in part I recently responded to a Facebook post on the topic and I thought it warranted a different audience, and I wanted to assure my meager audience that for every body type, there are a host of people who are attracted to it; and ladies….

When we tell you that you are the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen, we’re not necessarily just trying to get into your pants.  Sometimes, we are just trying to convey the fascination and adoration that our primitive minds and hearts have for that magnificent creature that is the women in our life.

Nothing happens to me.

“Nothing happens to me.”- John Watson

In the last couple of years, I’ve developed a fascination with Sherlock Holmes.  Now I know what you are thinking.  Actually, I don’t know that you are thinking at all to be honest, but if you are reading this, then I’ll assume for a moment that there is something approaching conscious thought going on behind those eyes and that you are thinking that my recent fascination with Sherlock Holmes is in some way related to Robert Downey Jr. 

You’d be wrong.

I actually developed my fascination with Sherlock, watching Jeremy Brett play the part.  I don’t even remember the first one I watched.  I believe it may have been Hound of the Baskervilles that caught my attention on Netflix that first time when I was looking for something to watch while I was by myself one day.  Regardless, after watching a couple of Jeremy’s movies, I decided to go looking for the books. 

I read a Study in Scarlet first.  I struggled a bit to get into the work as it was a different genre than I usually get into but it was compelling and I really enjoyed the character of Sherlock.  The absolute conviction that he is right about things struck a nerve in me as those who know me well will understand.  About halfway through the book, it takes a dramatic turn and starts talking about early Utah history and the Mormon settlers.  Holy Shit!  Talk about hitting close to home.  Suddenly I couldn’t put it down and I read the sign of the four shortly after.  When I picked up The Hound of the Baskervilles, I had a harder time getting through it and I got distracted by other book series shortly after that but by then I was captivated by another version of Sherlock Holmes.

I think I have Netflix to blame again for introducing me to the BBC’s newest incarnation of the character.  “Sherlock” depicts a younger incarnation of Sherlock Holmes set in a more modern London (did I mention somewhere on here that I’ve recently been to London?).  This incarnation is played by one Benedict Cumberbatch.  Benedict is brilliant!  He does a wonderful job with that part and is every bit as much fun to watch as Jeremy (by the way, I find both to be much more believable in the part than I do RDj though I thoroughly enjoyed his Sherlock Holmes movies).

Sadly the BBC only does three episodes of Sherlock at a time and they take a very long time to produce.  Fortunately, there is a lot of Sherlock Holmes material out there and I’m a far way from getting through all the books even.

I think it’s interesting knowing myself the way I do that I’ve been captivated by such a classic piece of literature.  I’ve never been much for Mark Twain or Shakespeare.  I’ve tried repeatedly to get through the Divine Comedy and had little luck.  I’ve always just assumed that I was not intellectual enough to assimilate the writing.  On the flip side, I not only don’t have any trouble getting my head into ACD’s writing, but I find myself identifying with the character of Sherlock.

There have been other smart characters that I’ve identified with: House, Hannibal Lector, but they always seem to have this “broken” element to them.  Sherlock on the other hand, doesn’t.  While in some social aspects, he seems a little stunted, he doesn’t appear crazy; although, I still love the line from “A Study in Pink” delivered so elequently by BC:

“I’m not a psychopath Anderson, I’m a high functioning sociopath, do your research!”-Sherlock Holmes

Headaches, they’re all in my head

So if ever there was a need for proof of this concept, I’ve found it.  As you may or may not know, Excedrine was pulled from store shelves several months ago.  Excedrine has been my goto med. of choice to control headaches for years.  Now,  I’ve had some brilliant friends who’ve come to my aide with bottles to help get me through but in the end, I’ve been without for a while now.

Now, an important bit of back story here… I have tried Tylenol and other brands before to no avail.  Nothing has worked like Excedrine.  Until now.

So I’m in England this last month and I obviously don’t have any Excedrine with me.  I go to the grocery store and find Panadol.  It sounds like roughly the same ingredients and at this point, I will try anything so I give it a shot.  It works!  Great stuff.  Not only does it work on the headache, but it works fast.  So I bring a box home.

As I reach the end of the Panadol; however, I start looking for alternatives.  Several online searches suggest Tylenol as Panadol isn’t sold in the States and supposedly they are roughly equivalent.  Fortunately for this test, I don’t even need to leave the house.  I still have some Tylenol.

I try it.  It works (and well).  Success.  Now I just need to stock up on Tylenol, right?

Cut to Walmart and not a bottle to be found.   Somebody out there hates me.

Fortunately, Sams had a big bottle.  So I’m in business.

Sorry Excedrine.  I fear you’ve been replaced.

A bit of a relief

So, those of you who know me irl, know that my youngest has a hard time making herself understood sometimes.  She tends to be soft spoken and has trouble with some word sounds.  We finally got her in to see a specialist who did some hearing tests and some speech testing.
The results were quite a relief.

The gal told us that within 5 minutes of talking to M. she realized that she didn’t need to run through the vocabulary tests.  Her comment was that M. had a vocabulary that would rival many adults she knew. 

Her hearing was well within the norms.

The problem it seems is one that would normally work itself out on its own.  The fact that it hasn’t probably has more to do with bad habits picked up from other kids. 

The problem might have been picked up earlier in public school, but, she would have had to deal with a great deal of ridicule in the process.  As it stands, if she decides later to do public school, she should be more than ready for it.

She will be doing some exercises with M. on a weekly basis but the doc does not anticipate it taking long to get her back on track.

Something from someone else’s mind…

A friend recently shared this and I thought it worth quoting…

“Life isn’t divided into genres. It’s a horrifying, romantic, tragic, comical, science-fiction cowboy detective novel. You know, with a bit of pornography if you’re lucky.” —Alan Moore

I’m certainly enjoying my share of Sci-Fi and there’s always more than enough drama.  Quite frankly, I’m ready to put the book down for a bit.  I’m bone tired.  I am in desperate need of a nap.

Now, off to the land of Robin Hood for another adventure.

Just sitting around

So, sometimes I wonder why I put this page here.  I don’t use it much.  I rarely have anything worthwhile to say.  Then there is the question of who is reading it and what I might want to say to them. 

I thought at first that I’d use it to flesh out ideas; but, I’ve really used it more to rant. 

Then I thought maybe I’d use it as a type of journal; but its hard to post regularly to it as work currently blocks it. 

I’ve considered using it as a type of therapy; but, again, I wonder who would see it. 

In the end, I make no warranties as to what one may find here.  I post when the mood strikes and with whatever strikes me.  Sometimes its fun; but, more often than not, its just me rambling.

Today is kind of a down day.  As such, I guess I don’t have a lot to say.

Journal Entry from 2/13/2012

On this day, 13 years ago, my oldest daughter was born. 1 of 2 for those geeks amongst us. She had already stolen my heart by that time. A little back story….

By June of 1998, my wife and I had been married for 6 years. We had been trying to have kids for probably 5 of those. We went back to D.C. to visit my wife’s brother and his family and to go through the temple out there.

When we got back, my wife of five years was just not bouncing back from what I had assumed at the time was just jetlag. As I would later describe to friends, she would sleep 10 hours and then get up and take a 2 hour nap. I was getting concerned. I encouraged her to go see a doctor and finally, reluctantly, she agreed.

Of course, given her symptoms, the first question the nurse asked was ‘could you be pregnant?’. My wife and I sadly explained to her what we’d explained over and over to friends; we could not have children. The best doctors in the valley had done their testing and trying and suggested that adoption was going to be our best hope.

Not to be deterred from her duties, the nurse told us that given my wife’s symptoms, she needed to do a test regardless. We told her that was fine; but, I added, if she was pregnant, I was buying gold plated cigars.

The nurse and my bride wandered off to do their test and a short time later my wife returned and we sat and waited for yet another painful reminder that we were childless.

I don’t remember the nurses face, but I can remember the tone of her voice when she poked her head in and asked….”So mommy and daddy, where is my cigar?”

We were needless to say, quite stunned and she sent us out to the women’s health clinic to verify that everything was ok.

An internal ultrasound later, we were ecstatic and terrified and thrilled and scared. We didn’t know whether or not to trust it; but from that moment on, I was in love with that little tadpole. For truly, that was what she looked like at that point.

Roughly nine months and a whole lot of nachos and walnut Blondie’s later, my angel was born. 19″ and 6 lbs 11 oz. She was perhaps the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Shrivelled and messy though she was.

Thirteen years later and she still holds the title of one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen.

Happy Birthday Princess. You’ll always be my miracle baby and the greatest surprise a guy could have. You were not planned but you were so very wanted.