Sticky vs. Slimy

Which would I prefer? Depends on a couple of factors. Are we talking on me, or on someone else? Last night, after having a couple of cold, adult beverages with friends, the topic of children arose. Since all of us present have children, we all have first hand experience, plus the stories that accompany them. We first discussed how much more in tune we were mentally prior to offspring. It was determined by our panel that adults with children, suffer brain loss due to two different factors. Figuratively speaking, children stand on your head until brain seepage occurs. Spending untold hours of untold days, compiled into years, conversing on an adolescent level, an adult cherishes conversation with another adult. This activity may slow down the process, but may also prolong the agony. Second factor actually involves physical harm to the adult. Children will, on a regular basis, undo something that took an adult several hours, or even days to accomplish, in ten minutes. This is when the self inflicted harm comes into play. Do I put my fingers around this little person's throat, or do I bang my head against a wall? Study shows most adults opt for the wall. But back to the subject at hand, sticky vs. slimy. Which do kids prefer? After interviewing a few choice specimens, children enjoy both. It required them to be engaged in messy, playful, sometimes delicious fun. Slimy was preferred, but sticky seemed to prevail. Sticky seemed more reasonable to children because some type of sweetened food product would be involved, and dirt would stick to the affected areas afterward, much better than a slimy mess. After partaking in this study panel, it was determined that adults occasionally drink to make the pain go away, and we usually drink together while discussing our children and the ill effects of raising them. I guess this is a form of therapy.

What's In a Name?

Does it really matter how you label it, as long as you call it something? I started my annual pilgrimage to the couch, in front of the TV, to pay homage to the final season of CWS at the 'Blatt'. Yes the new stadium is probably going to be spectacular, and the CWS will thrive in Omaha for quite some time, but it's going to be played at the TD Ameritrade Park. Yes, the city whored itself out to big business, just so we could get a new stadium, and keep another big business in Omaha. Since the name, 'Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium', is going by the wayside with the stadium itself, the CWS is losing a certain ambience about it. It's no longer directly connected to Omaha's past, and is changing the identity of the CWS. College baseball has morphed into big business, just like every other sport that becomes popular. What happens if TD Amertrade goes belly up, or gets bought by Morgan Stanley? The name changes. Johnny Rosenblatt is a permanent name in Omaha history, it's not going anywhere. Plus, he was an actual person whom people had a personal connection to. He could offer a handshake, or better yet, a hug. I don't think I would get the same warm fuzzies receiving a hug from TD Ameritrade. Is TD Ameritrade even capable of hugging? Fortunately, I have memories of a Johnny Rosenblatt Stadium, where families would come to share in America's greatest pastime, and share those magical moments with perennial fans from LSU, or to cheer on our home teams, Creighton and Nebraska, when they entered the CWS for the first time. I'm glad their experiences came at the 'Blatt', where the CWS originated, rather than TD Amertrade Park. I guess all good things run their course in life. Time to stop having fun, and get down to business.

Inappropriate

So today I decided to engage in our door - to - door activity. And in order to take part in such activity, one must be neatly dressed, not slovenly, nor anything inappropriate. After all, we're coming to your door, the last thing we want to do is scare you off (even though we do anyway). This morning I had an overwhelming urge to wear my flip flops. This would actually be inappropriate, because it doesn't really meet up with certain dress standards, at least in this country. So the adult reasoning took over, and forced me into wearing dress shoes. It's only for a few hours, I reasoned, then I can wear my flip flops everywhere else I please. This wrestling in mind took me back to my high school days. When I was a teenager, I was somewhat rebellious, but in a passive way. I would push the envelope, but would not make a spectacle of myself. When I was finally called upon my actions, I always had a smart retort, which usually hindered my cause. One day, at school, I was called to the office immediately by the vice principal. On my way, I'm running thru my mind, trying to figure out what in the world I had done. This happened to be a time when I was on my best behavior, so this really had me stumped. When I arrived in his office, he called attention to my footwear - flip flops - my shoe of choice. He then threw the high school handbook in front of me, and asked me to turn to a certain page, and read a certain section involving dress code about shoes. So far so good, I don't see any infractions on my part. He then asked me my definition of shoe. My answer was very succinct, "Something you wear on your feet". We then looked up a definition in the dictionary, to further clarify his reason for 'harshing my gig'. Webster sided with the principal, and said it was a foot 'covering', thus nullifying my right to wear flip flops in school. The first remark that popped into my head, and this would have had a negative response I'm sure, was to ask why flip flops were sold in department stores in the 'SHOE' section. If they're not really a shoe, shouldn't they have their own spot elsewhere in the store? Amazingly enough, wisdom prevailed, and I said nothing. I was made to go to my gym locker and change my flip flops. In protest, I wore my football cleats for the rest of the day, thus prompting fellow students to ask, "What's up with the cleats"? This gave me an opportunity to tell them how 'THE MAN' was repressing me. I may have lost the flip flop battle, but did I really:)

Brand Spanking New

Getting something new is always a treat, but can have its down side also. Let me explain. First, think of how you feel when getting a new pair of shoes. Think of how you feel when you find them on sale, in your size, and happen to be the exact color you were searching for. You can't help but feel good about your acquisition. How about the feeling when you get a little bigger ticket item, such as a new car? When it has 8 miles on the odometer, no stains on the seats from messy kids' stuff, and that new car smell. You may actually enjoy this purchase for quite some time. The 'newness' doesn't wear off as quickly as that new pair of shoes. Then the negative side of things. Friends and family may give you crap for buying a brand spanking new whatever it is. This is all in an attempt to make you feel guilty because they may not be able to purchase new, big ticket, items. Even if they can, you can still expect some flack for your purchase. I recently bought some new work jeans. First, I get ribbed for having wore out jeans that I wear to work, then I get ribbed for buying two new pair. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. What folks don't realize is, the jeans have to be new at some time in their life. Same as a new car, it too, had to have a beginning, and someone had to be the first owner. I really appreciate the attitude of one friend. He was at work one day, and a fellow workmate had bought a brand spanking new car. This happened to be the exact model this friend would have bought if he were in the market for a new car. After seeing the car in person, it was love at first sight. His workmate had to point out the painful obvious, that my friend would not spend that much money for something that new. Those who know him, know how painful it is for him purchase something brand spanking new, and part with a large sum of money, even though he probably has it stashed in a mattress at home. His response was, 'Yes, but in ten years, this car is going to be mine'! As much as a miser as some people strive to be, they still have to make new purchases whether they like it or not. There's absolutely nothing wrong with buying things second hand. My family would probably be wearing skins from animals we found dead on the road, if were not for thrift stores. But certain consumables, such as, say, toilet paper, should NOT be purchased second hand or used, for obvious reasons. It really doesn't bother me that bad when people 'harsh my gig' because I'm wearing new work jeans. I'm in no way being pretentious, just trying to get the most for my money, while still trying to look presentable. If I were trying to show off, I would invite you over to check out my new roll of butt wipe. Soft isn't it?

Straight As An Arrow

Last night, I scurried home to try to beat the threat of bad weather. My lawn was at the point of needing mowed, and I wanted to get it finished before the rain, hail, and flooding. My lawn is somewhat of a chore (mainly because I'm too cheap to buy a self propelled mower), but I actually enjoy mowing the grass - MY GRASS ONLY, for you wise guys out there thinking that you would love to extend my enjoyment to your yard! My wife made a comment on how straight I keep the rows while pushing the mower up and down the yard. I'm not really anal retentive about much, but this is one of my issues I deal with on a daily basis. Since I set tile for a living, my rows have to be dead-on straight, otherwise they will tell on you, and then we have problems. So my training has carried over into other aspects of my life. When my roof was reshingled, I made it clear that the horizontal rows, which are clearly seen from ground level, better be straight, or there will have to make another attempt to get it right before any money exchanged hands. Lawn mowing is another opportunity for me to exercise my abilities to make straight lines. I used to be overly critical of myself, and if I needed to underline something in a book or magazine, I would spend untold amounts of time looking for a straight edge. Didn't matter if it was a ruler, an envelope, another magazine, I had to have straight lines! I tried a highliter for awhile, but I don't like the fact that the information is not specifically singled out on my page. To me, it appears a toddler just colored randomly on my paper. I have since relaxed on the underlining issue, and attempt to just freehand it. I still try to get it as straight as possible. If I have to read what I've underlined orally, I then have a problem. The underlined sentences seem to run together, and I may accidentally read the same line twice. So I have to be overly conscious while I'm reading to not make that mistake. Yeah, I know I have a few quirks. If you had to do something for me in a linear pattern, I know my 'straight line fetish' would frustrate most folks. Just don't offer to mow my lawn, and we should remain on speaking terms.

Skills

My youngest daughter is at the age now, where she is almost maintenance free. She can dress herself, and she can forage for something to eat without mom or dad having to prepare her something. She has moved from the larvae stage to the caterpillar stage. She has entered the time in her life where money and a ride are more important than help putting her shoes on. Keep in mind, she's almost eight, so her needs/wants that involve money, are not quite as burdensome as my fifteen year old. So she's at the age now where she can help with chores around the house. She can dust, vacuum, even cook herself a grilled cheese sandwich. She is now equipped with skills. Remember, she's only eight, so some of those skills need some time to be honed. You've probably heard, or even used the term 'mad skills'. Her skills are more along the lines of 'maddening skills'. She can do certain things, but sometimes (more often than not) she makes a mess in the process. One such skill that comes to mind, is her ability to butter a piece of bread. We must go through twice the amount of butter, peanut butter, jelly, etc. than we did a year ago. When she wishes to prepare a piece of toast or bread, we end up with butter on the countertop, the front of the cabinet, her clothes, her glasses, occasionally my clothes,.... it's everywhere! The knife she's used to spread her coat of goodness, has substance halfway up the handle. I have entered the kitchen behind her, and leaned up against the countertop, and got peanut butter on my pants. I once tried to pick up a glass that had been left over from the night before, and it was concreted to the countertop with dried jelly. So as much as I appreciate the fact that she has the abilities to fend for herself, I can't wait for the day when she displays a little more control over her motor skills, and they progress from 'maddening' to just plain old 'mad'.

I Need a Rest

What a busy weekend! I had multiple things on the 'honey do' list, multiple engagements, multiple spontaneous plans and events, and, amazingly enough, I think I accomplished everything but one. WHEW! I need to go to work today to relax from the weekend. What's wrong with that scenario? The madness started right after work on Friday evening, and finished at around 11 PM Sunday night. Friday night was pizza making along with a couple of beers, some friends, and fire on the patio. The next morning involved a trek to the farmer's market on a quest for greens. Then, indirectly involved with my wife's garage sale while trying to keep our children, and the children next door, from breaking our junk that was for sale, and entertaining them. Following the sale was a mad rush to box up everything that didn't sell, and ship it off to Goodwill. This had to be accomplished before 4 PM, because we had a graduation party to attend. Made the graduation party in time, but prior to the party, we had to visit Nobbies to search for some last minute costumes accessories for a 5K run we were going to participate in. I know, you're thinking, "Costumes and 5K"? It's called the 'Dignity Run'. Leave your dignity at home, get dressed up, and run around Elmwood park in costume. What a blast! Some of the costumes were brilliant. That concluded Saturday, which was all I could muster the energy for anyway. Sunday morning was our meeting, followed by a trip to Louie M's for lunch. Came home, mowed the lawn, broke down a bunch of cardboard for recycling, took out the garbage, loaded tools on my truck for Monday, and snuck in a cat nap while watching a James Bond movie. Then off to a friend's house for a little wine and cheese party, and bidding farewell to another friend's little brother, who happens to live in Paris. That's France, not Texas. Just reliving the weekend long enough to fill up a blog, has me exhausted again. I may have to go back to bed.