Category: general

Where I put something when I’m too lazy to categorize it.

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people are good, they just are

Hi guys. Sunday in Oregon here, happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there.

Whenever, as I did last week, I spend a few days working from the Oregon sawmill close to my parents’ place, I wear “manager clothes.” Meaning, I wear dress slacks and collared shirts and fancy shoes with colored socks. Back at home, where I come to work every day as a manager, I wear jeans or shorts, mostly polo shirts, and dingy sneakers. In what I like to think of as taking advantage of not being around the Oregon sawmill very much, I used what brief time I have there to let people think I may actually dress nicely on an everyday basis back at home-base. I don’t know if this charade works, but I do it anyway. Somewhere in Oregon, there are people I work with who think I dress like a manager all the time (maybe). One day, I might actually start dressing like a manager all the time… I just may do it.

It was a good weekend though. Good time with Sharaun, with Keaton, and with Mom and Dad. Felt like a decent time away, too. There are a few weekend happenings I could write about, but I thought the following one might work best for the blog. Here goes.

We took Keaton down the the little park near my folks’ place on Sunday to let her run and jump and climb and slide and do all the fun kind of things kids do that help them sleep come naptime. While we were there, an Asian woman was out on her front porch at a unit nearby the park. Squatting down and hunched over an electric frying pan with a gallon jug of oil on the ground nearby, she was tending to whatever she was frying, turning them with a pair of long chopsticks. I waved and smiled as Keaton and I kicked a ball near her, and she waved and smiled back before turning her attentions back to her cooking.

Later, as we were playing, the woman called Sharaun over as she passed nearby. Answering “two” to the woman’s question about how old Keaton was, Sharaun was then surprised as she handed her a little paper plate with three pieces of what looked to be homemade egg foo young and a little plastic fork. Then, in a combination of broken English and the more universally understood pointing and motioning she indicated they were for Keaton. When I saw what was going on, I ushered Keaton over to accept the food and encouraged her to say her “thank yous.” And, for the rest of the time at the playground, she munched on egg foo young between running and jumping and climbing and sliding and all the fun things kids do at the at the park that help them sleep before naptime.

Thing is, I thought this was totally cool. Helped reinforce my theory that an overwhelming majority of the humans on this rock are inherently good people. I’m telling you, people are good. They just are.

And now, off to sleep to wake and fly back. Goodnight.

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the penultimate salesman

Wow. Broke my streak yesterday, huh? Been doing so well, too. Guess between working, getting to the airport, flying, getting to my folks’ place, and going to bed – I just didn’t have time to write. It’s OK, I’m back… for what it’s worth.

Coming to Oregon ended up being an exercise in time-travel. See, it’s clearly still winter here, with daytime highs in the 50s and cloudy grey skies overhead. Coming from the sweaty-crotch beginnings of summer back home it’s quite a difference. I kinda like it though, I’ve always been partial to the “vibe” of the fall/winter seasons, even if they are the unnaturally undying ones of the Pacific Northwest.

When we got to the airport last night Hertz had us in a two-door convertible. I stood beside it for a good minute, thinking. In the end, I decided that, with the carseat and the potential for carting around Grammy and Grandpa as well, I’d better exchange for a four-door. They gave us a “Sportage” instead, some sort of smaller SUV thing. It’s not bad I guess, but I bet, cubically speaking, it’s not really much larger than the convertible. It works though, even does OK at making me feel like I’m driving my trusty busted-ass Ford back home.

Speaking of that busted-ass Ford, I was admiring it’s broke-down charm the other day. I’m not gonna lie, it’s in pretty bad shape. I don’t wash it, I don’t clean the inside of it, it’s 7,000mi overdue for an oil change, and it makes all sorts of unnatural groans and creaks and squeaks and grinding noises. Still, though, I love that car. We bought it used right after we moved from Florida, it was three years old at the time and in pretty good shape. I had no idea how to buy a car, had never done it before, but I thought I came out of the deal OK (at least, according to the internet at the time). Funny though, having had a little more time to come to feel familiar with a family budget and sort of lock into comfortable spending pattern, I’d probably look for something with lower payment were I to go buy new today. But, it worked out, and I’m still driving the (well worn) beast today.

Nowadays, it’s been paid off for years and I only use it to go back and forth to work, which is some ridiculously small distance right around three miles from the house. Sometimes I think I should get rid of it, but then I remember how I do like to take it on “longer” trips – and that I do get good use out of it doing things like driving up the mountains to Tahoe or to Yosemite or something (which, in honesty, we don’t do much at all). Mostly though, I remember how I use it to go back and forth to Home Depot or Lowes, and how I can stack bricks or fertilizer or wood in the back. I think, though, above all, I remember how it costs me only gas to have the thing, and how I put that cable in there so I can play my iPod in it, and how it’s the only vehicle I’ve known for the past eight years. I remember that and think, “I’m gonna drive this thing into the dirt,” and give the dashboard a quick caress (after which I have to wipe the thick dust off my hand on my shorts).

I probably jinxed it now. It’ll die next week. Watch.

Ended up buying a suit tonight, from a guy who could’ve sold me the moon. Seriously, I fell in man-love with this guy. He played basketball with Marvin Gaye, was a backup singer on a George Clinton record, and pretty much likes everything I like: He loves camping and hiking, speaks Mandarin, has lived everywhere I’ve ever lived, knows all the places I know… the guy was the penultimate salesman. He chose shirts based on my complexion, he eye-sized me to the inch, and had me smiling and laughing the entire time. I had to restrain myself from just handing him the credit card and telling him the limit. After I had paid and was being escorted to the door, he told me, “If you’re ever in the area again, stop by and see me if you need anything.” Honestly, I just might “need” something after all…

Uh-oh, I totally have a man-crush on a sixty year old (yes, he told me) tewnty-one year (yes, he told me) employee of Men’s Wearhouse.

No proofreading. ‘Night.

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learning… all the wrong things

Happy Tuesday morning folks, just one day closer to a change of venue for us as we’re headed up north to visit the grandparents (my folks) after work on Wednesday. I’m ready, if I haven’t mentioned that already. I love days when I can utilize my time to the fullest. Today, I came home for lunch and pre-edged the lawn for the mowing I knew I’d be doing after work. Not that it saves a whole heck a lot of time, but any little bit helps.

I’m gonna jump around a bunch today. Yeah, try to hold in your shock.

Today, Keaton demonstrated two new skills she’s picked up somewhere along the way. Both of them are pretty good, so I figured I’d write about them. First up, unlocking the front door. She’s been tall enough now for a while to reach the lock, but, until recently, she’s been a fairly cautious baby (I mean, she’s still on the cautious side, but she’s beginning to take a few more risks). Today, however, as I was out mowing the lawn, I made one pass, turned around, and there she was standing right in my line – smiling and waving silently thanks to the tunes in my noise-blocking earbuds. I looked around for Sharaun but she was nowhere to be found. So, I cut the mower, paused the iPod, and bent down to talk to her. Just then, Sharaun came from the front door shaking her head. “She can unlock it now,” she said. Awwww stank. Now she can come and go as she pleases, I suppose. For now, Sharaun actually put an ‘X’ of masking tape over the lock mechanism, and I assume will investigate a more sound, for-purchase, solution shortly.

Next, and this one is my personal favorite just for the ingenuity and craftiness it shows, her new “Mommy said yes” thing. Just today while I was home for lunch I caught her “swinging” from the gate we have to block off access to the kitchen (hanging like a monkey is a more accurate description). I told her, as I have before, “Keaton, we don’t swing on the gate.” To which she replied, “Mommy said it’s OK to swing, Daddy.” Confused, I asked Sharaun, “Did you tell her it’s OK to swing on the gate?” “No,” she replied, having not heard Keaton, “Why?” “She just said you did,” I replied. “Keaton did I tell you it was OK to swing on the gate?,” she asked. “No, it’s not OK,” replied Keaton. Busted; cold-busted. At the time, I wrote it off as a fluke, but then…

When Sharaun had to leave for a meeting and I was wrapping up my yardwork by putting away the edger, she brought Keaton out to the garage so I could watch her. While we were in the garage putting things away, she saw her new bike-trailer and said, “Can I go for a bike-ride Daddy?” “No, not right now baby, it’s getting late and Daddy has to take a shower.” “Oh,” she says, “Mommy says yeah.” Turning to look at her, I ask, “Mommy said it was OK for you to go on a bike-ride?” “Yeah, Mommy said it was OK.”

This kid, she’s already playing us. I love it. She must think she’s so slick. But, I’m onto her games. As a kid, I used to pride myself on techniques I used to “work” my folks (even though I’m realizing now they likely saw right through most of them), so she’s gonna have to work harder to pull one over on me! Sharaun, on the other hand, may be low-hanging fruit. We’ll see…

Well, folks, after much brain-wracking and flip-flopping on position, I think I’ve finally settled on a course of action, or, more accurately in this case, course of inaction, regarding the TV-upgrade situation. I’ve decided to put my purported minimalist ideals where my mouth is, so to speak, and delay indefinitely the purchase of a bigger, flatter, sexier and higher-definition television. Yup. I’m for real.

At the least I’ve decided that I won’t purchase a new TV at all until our old one gives up the ghost, and right now my intended course of action when that happens is to simply reevaluate the cost-efficiency of a newer model. Meaning, if there is no price-based reason not to chose a sweet, awesome, HDTV over another “regular” model – I’ll make the purchase. If we’re still talking thousands of dollars in premiums, I think I’ll continue to pass. (I could be wrong here though, those TVs are pretty flat and rectangular and sweet, after all.)

Yes, people will make fun of my small boxy television, I know this. But, for reasons I’ve laid out here on the blog recently, I honestly think this may be the best solution for our family right now. And, besides, it kinda makes me feel all snarky-good and “above” materialism (says the guy with two cars, five iPods, etc., etc.).

Before I go, wanted to do some link-sharing… check it out:

Similar to the fascination I’ve expressed several times here on this blog with the Edgewood Hospital website, I became enthralled this week when I discovered several websites and forums dedicated to the modern-day activity called “urbex,” or urban-exploration. Urban explorers are a group of folks who share a common love of exploration, armchair archeology, architecture and building design, and, often, photography – not to mention a healthy fear-fetish, it would seem.

Think about it, what guy can say he doesn’t get a little excited being somewhere he’s not supposed to be? I mean, looking at the back of the “Danger – No Admittance” sign from the “wrong end” is one of the central sources of entertainment for teenage males, why should we expect that to change as grow into respectable adults? We shouldn’t, and that’s why this whole “urbex” thing was so immediately attractive to me. I spent about an hour paging through this guy’s page, following his exploits into ghost towns, rundown factories, condemned mental facilities, and the like. I particularly like his trip into a forgotten Detroit police station, complete with mug shots, a stocked evidence room, and riot gear.

G’night people. Hope you’re as warm and comfy as I am.

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slumbered away the sweet-spot

Happy Monday folks.  Gonna be a busy three days, both at work and home, before we fly up to Oregon to hang out with Grammy and Grampa for Mother’s Day.

And me?  I’m still groggy from a doozy of a Sunday afternoon nap. Went into the city last night with Anthony to see Rogue Wave in concert, didn’t get back home until 3am. The late night, combined with the somewhat early rise for church made for serious case of the post-lunch sleepies. So, I deferred the tons of yardwork I had planned and settled down shirtless on the couch for a “short” nap soundtracked by XM’s “Deep Cuts” station. Three hours later, I awoke in one of those well-rested states of ultimate satisfaction. Yes, I slumbered away the sweet-spot of the day, but man was it some kinda rewarding in it’s own special way. So, setting the tone, I’m still here reveling a little bit in waking rested and happy.

Saturday this weekend I wanted to take Keaton out for a bike ride (or, bike tow, to be more precise).  We got on the road around 9:30am, after a breakfast of pancakes and eggs (I rarely ever eat breakfast, but sometimes Saturday affords me the time and/or motivation).  I packed her into the carrier with some juice and a baggie of Goldfish, and threw a blanket in the back just in case she got cold when we got going.  We were on a short timeline, since we were due at a two-year-old birthday party at a park across town by 11am.  I opted for a ride to the park, a quick romp on the playground, and a ride back.  It was a good time, and I’m hoping it helped at beginning to acclimate her for longer trips.  Even by the end of the short ride to the park, she was asking to get out and walk, so I still have some more breaking-in to do.  Was a good time though, peep the pictures:

And I’ll leave you at that.  Tomorrow I’m going to try to cram in a lawn mowing, prep for big-trash day on Tuesday, and a bunch of lunchtime errands – I’m giving 3:1 odds.

‘Night.

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fear me, air-breathing planetwalkers

Today I wore a new shirt (well, new for me, I actually got it for Christmas last year from Sharaun’s family in Florida). It has “pronounced” collars. So pronounced, in fact, that my shadow in the parking lot while walking to my car for lunch made me laugh.

To me, it looked like the kind of ornate future-space uniform an intergalactic planetary overlord might wear.

Fear me, air-breathing planetwalkers; fear me.

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bring on the boo-boos

Wednesday, and the remainder of this week can’t go fast enough. I’m just ready to get to the weekend, work’s just not doing it for me lately. Luckily, a week from today we fly to Oregon to stay for a while with Grammy and Grampa. While there, I’ll go into the local sawmill so I’m not AWOL.  Should be a good long-weekend and at least give me something of a “break” from the regular here-and-now grind.

Let’s go ahead and do this blog thing then, not much in the way of continuity though, I’m afraid.

While I was out in the yard the other evening putting in some new plants, I stopped by the recently-planted garden to see if anything had began to push through the dirt. Sure enough, a couple of the cucumbers and most all of the beans have already sprouted and are making a charge for their share of sunlight. I was happy to see it, as I’d used year-old seeds I had leftover from last Spring’s sowing and wasn’t sure they’d be good to go, especially since I hadn’t taken any particular care in storing them. Hopefully the quick sprout is a good sign, and the garden will come in full and healthy again this year.

Sharaun called me at work today to tell me a funny story. I guess Keaton took a spill today walking out to the car, and skinned up her knees to the point of bloodying them both a bit. Sharaun wiped them off enough to put her in the carseat and clean her up a little better when they got home, but halfway there more blood had appeared. Keaton looked down at her bloody knees and said, “Hey look I have some jelly on there Mommy!” I don’t think she’s ever really drawn blood before, so why not think it’s jelly?  Suppose we should get used to bloody knees and scrapes and scratches, huh? The real fun of childhood begins.

May sound silly, but I say bring on the boo-boos.  I’m ready to nurse more skinned knees from climbing trees and removing training wheels and playing soccer and gymnastics – or whatever kinda things girls skin knees doing.  I’m ready to swoop in for a reassuring rescue, so let’s do it.

Goodnight.

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a grumbly harrumph

A grumbly harrumph to you, early morning Tuesday friends. Hope your coffee is strong and hot, and you got at least six hours of peaceful sleep last night. Me, I don’t know, because I write this business the night before. Go back and read a few, maybe check out the random posts over there in the sidebar – yeah, right over there – that’s right You’ll pick up on the timing pretty quick.

‘Round about 6:30pm on Monday and I’ve got the bluetooth hanging from my ear as I sit in one of those late-day Taiwan meetings. I’m listening, to an extent, but I’m also monitoring the baked ziti Sharaun left me for dinner before going up to run the teen-moms thing she does. She told me what temperature it’s supposed to bake at, and for how long, through rolled-down windows as I was pulling in the driveway and she was pulling out (at the same time, I could see Keaton mouthing “I love you daddy” through the glass as she blew me kisses). But, by the time I got in the house I’d forgotten both. I chose 375° for about thirty minutes – seems to be working OK so far (just need to make sure I get that crispiness on top, you know). On my own again for the evening, I suppose.

Before my 6pm call I pulled on some crappy shorts, dirty flip-flops, and no shirt to go plant some plants in the backyard. It’s hot outside here lately, and I wore nothing on my head so the sweat dripped down my face and burned in my eyes. I enjoyed it. And now, jumping around in time even more – that hot air is filling the house I opened up after my meeting ended, and I’m listening to this new album that’s supposed to be rad. I haven’t made up my mind.

This morning at work I decided to get some breakfast. I don’t usually eat breakfast at all, but occasionally I’ll go down to the café for my coffee and be tempted by the breakfast burritos or serve-yourself tater-tots and cheese-eggs. Got a small bowl of the latter this morning, spooned some salsa on top, and it made a great start to my day. Funny how little things can improve the outlook of a day, huh?

I’ve been going a bit crazy with Summertime “to-do” items lately. First up, the landscaping work I did on the sideyard out front, something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. Next on my list is redoing this little walled-planter/garden area we have along the sidewalk from our garage to our front door – it’s been in disuse now for too long, and looks a mess. I plan cunningly make use of the leftover pavers I had when I did the backyard porch so many years ago to create a nice little area for a swing or bench or something, and possibly even incorporate a little pond installation.

And, speaking of pavers, I guess it’s about time I finally clean and seal the porch in the backyard – and spent some time last week getting smart on the procedure and necessary materials. Finally, re-planting the retaining wall slope out back (filling in with more groundcover) and planting a tree in the corner out front. Realistically it’s a long list of work, but I’d like to make as much progress as possible over the next month – as we have a procession of family and friends coming to stay beginning then. Gotta keep up appearances, you know. Now, if only I can get Sharaun to care about the inside of the place… sigh…

Let’s switchum gears, as the old Indian used to say.

The other night, I booked a rather impulsive trip to Florida for Sharaun, Keaton, and I. We’d both been sort of bummed that our only planned visit this year was over Thanksgiving, and I was acutely bummed that it would mean I’d not see my new nephew until he was nigh on nine months old. So, I set about looking for stupid-low prices on plane tickets, and managed to find a great deal at the beginning of June. What’s more, United was offering double miles as a promotion during that time – and before I knew it I’d clicked through to a purchase. I immediately sent a note to my old cronies asking them to reserve me an evening for reminiscing and catching-up in a smoke-filled pub of their choice. Really, though, we’re excited about getting back to the place I still refer to as “home.”

And, mmmm… before I go, I see my friends are more disciplined than I, and some have already posted images from our weekend camping outing not but two days gone now.  Check out some images of the fun here, and look for an update from me sometime in the coming days…

Holy crap guys I’m really sorry about this mess of paragraphs. I feel a little aimless this week, just writing about things to write. Hope you can put up with it.  Goodnight.