"The Muffled Cries For Help From a Daddy of Four Beautiful Little Girls"

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

The Impeccable Timing of Taco Bell

Perhaps you have children with discriminating palettes (picky eaters). Ours aren't too bad, but there are a few food complications we've had over the years.

One of those was specific to Taco Bell. Fact 1: Taco Bell has very affordable food. Fact 2: Our children didn't particularly care for anything on the menu. We all know that there are really only a handful of things you can get at Taco Bell.
1. Flour or corn tortilla
2. Meat (chicken or beef)
3. Cheese
4. Beans
5. Various veggies (tomato, lettuce)
6. Salsa, sour cream and guacamole

I think that about covers it. From these ingredients, they can make a minimum of 12,874 different items...tacos, burritos, enchiladas, chalupas, gorditas, tostadas, Erica Estrada, etc.

For a while, the only things on the list my kids would want were the flour tortillas and cheese. So EVERY time we went, we specifically asked for a flour tortilla with cheese on it and thrown in the steamer to melt the cheese. It took no fewer than 17 minutes to describe this recipe the first dozen times we ordered the delicacy. I was sure that everyone in line behind us was muttering under their breaths, "Why doesn't he just order tacos? Who doesn't like tacos?"

Workers would sometimes ask, "So you want a Big Beef Meximelt with no beef?" or "a chili-cheese burrito without the chili?" or "You want a cheese quesadilla?"

No, no, and no.
We actually tried their various suggested concoctions to try to be more accommodating, but invariably, they ended up with sauce, onions, paint chips and whatnot. Flour tortillas and cheese. That's IT.

Eventually, one Taco Bell worker said, "OH! So you want a side of flour and a side of cheese?"
"Yes, sir, as long as they're put together and heated to get all melty."

After that, it became a little easier to order. Making the cheesy flour tortillas wasn't the problem, it was figuring out what buttons to push on the cash register that was causing consternation, and I'm all about consternation-less living. So I'd order, "a flour tortilla with cheese on it and thrown in the steamer to melt the cheese. They always ring it up as a side of flour and a side of cheese."

They'd thank me for telling them how to do their job, and ask if I wanted the big tortilla or the small. Still in some cities while traveling, we've encountered trouble. Maybe their registers are different, but we eventually get what we want. Then, as our girls have grown older, they ventured into bean burritos, chili-cheese burritos and steak taquitos.

Jenna, being the youngest, was the last hold out. Last week, though, she surprised me by ordering a chili-cheese burrito for the first time. An item that is actually on the menu. An item that doesn't have to be explained or special ordered. I was ready to call work and take a couple of days off to celebrate this new era.

Then I looked over at the cardboard stand-up menu advertisement for their newest items.

First one?

The "Cheesy Roll-up" which is a flour tortilla with cheese on it and thrown in the steamer to melt the cheese.

It has it's own button on the register and everything now that I don't need it.


Thursday, May 22, 2008

Right Again

I'm never right. Well, that's not entirely true. I WAS right one time in college. Cindy acknowledged her wrongness and my rightness. We were in my car, and I commemorated the moment that I was right about something by writing down the date and event and sticking it in the sun visor for future reference.

[***American Idol spoiler alert***]

Now I am right a second time. I picked David Cook a long time ago as the super-coolest-winner-to-be for American Idol season 7. The season finale was less cheesy than most previous season's finales, so I want to give props to the folks at Fox for improving and limiting the lame-ness. It's still weird to have group songs, but well-matched duets like Michael and Carly are smart smart smart. And even Brooke with Mr. Nash (minus Crosby and Stills) was a good match.

I thought it was an interesting choice when it was announced that David Cook was singing with D.C. Talk (couldn't quite picture it). But then we realized it was Z.Z. Top. Cool.

Congratulation to David Cook. It feels good to be right. I've done a lousy job pickinig previous winners.
I'm going to jot this moment down and stick in my sun visor.

Check back with me in another 16 years when I'm right again about something.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Final Idol Interviews

totally fictional (that means "not true")

I had the distinct pleasure of sitting down with a couple of Davids inside the Los Angeles Motel 6 where the Idol Contestants are staying. It was surreal to be with both of them here in this final week of season 7. I don't know how they found the time to meet with me, but I suppose the publicity they knew they'd get from my blog trumped the E! offer that they turned down.

Just as I imagined, David Cook played more the role of the father figure while David Archuletta was the glassy-eyed teenager giggling at palm trees and bikinis: "We don't have those in Utah."
ME: I know you two must hear a lot of stupid jokes about having the same name.

DC: Yeah. It gets old, all the prophets proclaiming that "David will definitely win this year."

DA: I think Syesha still has a chance though. (smile)

(It's hard to tell if David A. is being funny or doesn't remember that Syesha's gone. He speaks of other booted contestants in the present tense as if they still exist as well.)

ME: You both have distinct styles and probably appeal to different audiences. Describe the audience you think is out there ready to buy your CDs once they hit the stores.

DA: Judging by the response from the audience INSIDE the theater where we've performed, I'm led to believe that my fans consist of high-pitched preteen blond girls with their arms in the air [nervous giggle]. But I think, given my heritage, I probably appeal to some brunettes as well, and at least a couple of redheads in Utah, Idaho and Nicaragua.

ME: What's your fan base like, Cook?

DC: Two words: Cool People. Like you.

(that's four words.)

ME: How do you feel about giving me a sneak peak at Tuesday night's performances?

DA: I'm pretty much going to be doing a lot of the same stuff I've done all along.

ME: So I can assume you'll be wearing a muted colored t-shirt with assymetical prints? And maybe dark pants?

DA: Pretty much. But I'll mix it up a bit with a dressier jacket than normal. First, I'm singing Forest Whitaker's "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me." I watched it on YouTube to learn it. And I totally predict that Paula will get chills, and Simon will say it might be the best I've done so far. Then I will hyperventilate during the commercial break.

(note: I've looked everywhere for a link to Forest singing this on Saturday Night Live. Can't find it, but if anyone does, LET ME KNOW. It had me laughing for hours when I should have been sleeping.)

ME: And Cook, can we expect some surprises from you Tuesday night?

DC: Instead of having my bangs swooped over and a face with angst mixed with indifference all over it, I think I'll stick the hair up a little more. But I'm keeping the angst.

ME: (sarcastically) Ooooh.

DC: Ah, but what you WON'T expect will be more jackets with extraneous buttons and straps. I'm singing "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" as my first song.

ME: How 'bout Round Two?

DC: Well, I'm going to mess up the words slightly on "Dream Big," but no one may notice but you since no one's ever heard the song. It won't be my best, but I'll work the leather jacket like there's no tomorrow, because I'm still cool.

DA: And I've got a sweeter, Whitney Houston-sounding song "In This Moment." But I'll make it work by holding out some super looooooong notes. People like that, especially the hand-raising prepubescents in the mosh pit.

ME: Now what I can't wait for is the songs you choose for yourselves. Can you reveal your final selections?

DC: "The World I Know." I hope people are patient and wade through the first laborious verse. Now that I think about it, I'm starting to have second thoughts. I'm sure I'll do fine, but what if it doesn't wow the judges. I'll probably just cry cathartically at the end, and Simon will probably hate the song choice but profess his love for me.

DA: I'm doing the theme from "Three's Company" for my final song. So I have to learn three new songs for Tuesday night. If we get to Monday, and I haven't had time to learn all three well, I'll probably cut "Three's Company" and do "Imagine" that I'd already learned for a previous week.

ME: Archuletta, what do you think you'll say in response to the judges' praise?

DA: Uh...uhmmm...

ME: I can't wait to see the show! Thanks for taking the time to give us a taste of what to expect! Now why don't you boys go get ready. If you need extra shampoo or shoe shine cloths, let me know; I can run to the lobby for you.


Well, there you have it. I don't know if things will go exactly as the David's have planned. They often make last minute changes to keep everyone on their toes. But we'll see soon, won't we? My predictions? David A. will outshine David C. in some ways, but every time I seem him get speechless and teary and choking, I'll wonder how can this guy do tours and concerts and live this life and not check into rehab in less than 5 months? David C., on the other hand, is ready to be hit hard by the business and bust some chops.

Bring it on.

And if you care to read recaps and insights from people who DIDN'T get face-to-face interviews with the contestants at a Motel 6, check out Boomama's Mr. Linkies. As always, my wife tells it like it is in her recap as well while throwing in pictures of her pretend boyfriend from 90210. It's a good thing I'm not insecure.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Oh, How Stimulating!

Our economic stimulus rebate just arrived. It snuck (sneaked?) in ever so quietly into our bank account this morning without so much as a gong or trumpet fanfare or 21-gun salute.

In addition to a puppy and puppy supplies, we anticipate stimulating the economy by spending the rest of the money on cheese...and maybe some crackers.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Crossing My Fingers

We're heading out today for our first camping trip of the season.

Our destination is only a few miles away on the lake near here. After all, we have to traipse back for little things like a softball game, church and picking our kids up after school.

It's always scary getting ready for that first outing. After sitting dormant all winter, the camper is about to be opened finally. There's always that twinge of anxiety about the snakes or raccoons or Peruvian refugees who may have taken up residence there over the last several months.

Here's hoping!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Decisions, Decisions

It's really a difficult choice.
Once you decide you want a puppy in your home, then you have to go through all the emotional ups and downs of choosing the right breed or mix and where to get it from whether it's a shelter, a breeder or you steal it from a neighbor in the dark of night.

Like I said in the previous post, I've been online searching and hunting and stalking puppies. After much research, I've been able to narrow it down to a few possibilities. I'd love your opinions.

This little doll is a Yorkiepoo, meaning his papa is a Yorkie and his mama is a Poodle. These kinds of dogs are great for allergy sufferers in theory, because they don't shed and they exude minimal amounts of pollen and smog. There can be a large range of appearances for Yorkiepoos depending on which characteristics they receive from each parent. For example, ears can be perky and pointy more like a Yorkie and flopsy like a poodle. Likewise, their coats can be straight or wavy. They may speak either French or Italian. Who knows?

This cutie's name is Elwood. He clearly is part Chinese Crested and part satanic demon straight from the bowels of hell. This mixed breed is also good for allergy sufferers, mostly because you won't want to be near it. It does get a little pricey to feed, as it needs a steady diet of Mary Kay Extra Emolient Night Cream and Holy Water to keep its tongue from being even more dry and more evil than it already is.

This dog is chewing a bone...its owner's leg bone. The note scrawled in blood at the shelter suggests that Cujo is good with amputees. It also says that he loves children...with a hint of cilantro.

This darling is still available at the shelter as well. After 27 attempts to euthenize him, Lazarus keeps coming back. Usually they gave him a gentle shot to simply help him sleep forever. But even the last attempt with the guillotine was unsuccessful, so they're hoping to place him in a home with a nice older couple who enjoys the smell of death.

Oh, it's so hard to decide! Each of these precious puppies has its good points and bad points. I wish one of you would just pick for me.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Like A Butterfly, A Wild Butterfly

Anybody remember that song from the 80's, "Obsession?"

I have had an obsession for the last week (not with the s*xual undertones that the previously mentioned song's lyrics imply, mind you). A few people have noted my absence from Cyberinternetoblogoland, and I must say that your cards and well wishes have been quite warming. Thank you. Flowers would've been nice, too, but you just save your money for gas; you're gonna need it.

So what have I been doing for the last week that has kept me from playing with you at recess?

Has it been a new TV show that has sucked me in with a force comparable to that of one of those vacuum cleaners that can hold up a bowling ball? No. Still watching the same old shows like "American Idol" and "Battlestar Galactica." We also enjoy the comedy of "Samantha Who?" because it's cleverly different. But nothing new...yet.

Has it been a new hobby like knitting or glass-blowing? No. I'm pathetic enough at my old hobbies. I don't want to dilute my patheticness further by spreading it even thinner.

Am I keeping a second wife and family in another city where I fly frequently in my double life as an airline pilot? Not quite. I'm flattered that you think I'm such a great husband and father that I have enough to share with a second family, or than I'm smart enough to learn to fly. I DID fly an airplane once though a couple of years ago. At least I got to sit in the cockpit and panic like a baby because I knew we were going to tumble from the sky...even though there was a copilot and the autopilot was on.

Well, if it's not a new TV show, and you're not knitting, and you're not a polygamist/pilot, then clearly you must be spending your spare time online searching for the perfect puppy for your family.
Ding ding ding ding ding. We have a winner.

It's true. Ever since our children found out that people with dog allergies can still own certain dogs, we've been forced to consider the prospect of pet ownership. So for the past week, I've been investigating and hunting and emailing breeders and studying books. It really has become an obsession. After all, some really neat dogs are reserved from the breeders even before they're born, so if we're going to find the God-ordained pup for us, we better get psychotic about it, right?

Here's my progress thus far: the specific breeds we're considering are Yorkies and some Yorkie mixes like Yorkie/Poodle (Yorkiepoo) and Yorkie/Maltese (Yorktese or Morkie). And now after a week-long immersion in Yorkie studies, the next step is to find some examples of these dogs and lick their fur, slather their saliva on our food and insert a lock of their hair into our nostrils. If those experiments don't throw us into anaphylactic shock, we may soon own a dog.

Just to make it interesting, we're considering getting a puppy as soon as it's legally old enough to part from mommy (8 weeks?). The whole challenge of potty-training and teaching a puppy seems thrilling. Plus, we've recently developed a hole in the arm of our couch, so why not get a puppy to finish it off?

If any of you have experience with Yorkies, Yorkiepoos or Morkies, let me know your insights. Additionally, if any of you have a brother-in-law's coworker's friend's aunt's nail tech who breeds dogs like these, feel free to hook me up.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Dream Ticket: Cook and Cowell


Dial. Rinse. Repeat.

David Archuletta sang us a little Billy Joel "And So It Goes." I love the Irish ballad effect. Given his age and stature, it would've been even MORE impactful if he'd worn his leprechaun outfit. Because I respect my elders, I shall avoid making any disparaging comments about the mustache on the mayor of David's hometown that we met in the video, after all, I'm sure it's been grown as a very selfless act in order to provide a roosting place for homeless birds of prey. Not going to mock it.

For his second song, he sang what I categorize as "one o' dem teeny-bopper songs," and I'm not qualified to judge this new-fangled stuff. Then he sang "Longer" (as in "longer than there've been stars up in the heavens"), and I felt like he should've worn a cardigan and sansabelt pants. I guess he's got a wide range of song styles, but it really doesn't even matter how he does, because I'm voting for the other David. Seriously, the Hand of God could inscribe "Archuletta" in blood on my living room wall and flood our home with a choir of angels singing Handel's "Archuletta Chorus" and I'd still vote for Cook. Call me evil, I guess.

Syesha, who I thought should have gone home weeks ago, is peaking at the right time, so I'm going to acknowledge that she's talented enough to have earned the right to still be here in the top 3. Good for her.
She sang a few songs, danced provocatively with a chair, sparkled in sequins, and smiled.

But most importantly, she got off the stage to make room for David Cook.

First, he sang Simon's choice of Roberta Flack's "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," and I almost exploded with excitement. How awesome to pick a totally unexpected and uncharacteristic song! Ever since he made me love "Billie Jean," I've been waiting for the next big surprise. He rocked it, and he rocked the next one (by Switchfoot) and the third one too, "I Don't Want To Miss A Thang" (with about twenty-leven violinists on chairs from the band room).

I've had an incredibly difficult time typing this up because I've had to stop several times in order to call 1-866-IDOLS-03. And if you're reading this Tuesday night, stop reading right now and dial it with me.

I'll wait for you while you dial.
In fact, I'm going to go find a block of cheese or two, so you have a couple minutes to call 10 or 20 times while I hit the kitchen.

(Musical interlude while I get cheese and while you dial. So help me, if you're not calling RIGHT now, I'm going to stay in the kitchen longer and make you wait.)

Fine. Be that way. Don't call.
I type my thumbs to the bone on my Blackberry every Tuesday night. The least you could do is call and vote for David Cook for me since every time I've tried to call from MY house, it's been busy. I guess that's a good sign, though.

Going home?
Syesha, I'm guessing.

The highlight of the night was Roberta Flack's song. Not necessarily David C. singing it (even though it was great). I just love that giddy moment when we heard that Simon picked that song. I know Simon is simply a genius, and he proved it once more tonight.

I swear I'm not drunk.
In conclusion, I'm sorry for this spastic, incoherent post. I've been gone from the blogworld for about a week, and I think I probably should have had a warm-up post to prepare me for tonight, and maybe a couple gallons of coffee. Thanks for hangin' in there anyway and reading this far down.

Any guesses?
I'll sleep and then fill you in later on my new (but temporary) obsession that's kept me away recently. Any guesses what it's been?

Thursday, May 8, 2008

You Can't Shoot Sheriffs With Impunity

Rumor has it that Jason Castro was the next castaway from American Idol last night. I couldn't say for sure because our signal went out for a while.

I really am hoping that it doesn't mean our satellite went hurtling out of orbit and landed on a trailer home in the desert of New Mexico. (I hope they had insurance.) But even if that did happen, then I guess the company eventually rerouted signals through other satellites to bring us our much-needed programming, just not in time to catch any American Idol.

I'm guessing that Jason was cool with leaving, all laid-back and going with the flow.

Please feel free to fill me in on any life-changing moments from the results show (Paula-isms, star-sightings, performances of note, bantering between Ryan and Simon still trying to act like they're not secret lovers, etc.).

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Eeny Meenie Miney Moe, Catch A Tattle By The Tale

We discourage tattletaling around here.

Sometimes the tattlER gets in as much trouble as the tattlEE so that they'll both learn a lesson.

Other times the teller is the ONLY one who gets in trouble, because--quite frankly--I just don't care if your sister is making googly eyes right now or humming the theme to Barney.

For instance:

Cassie: Daddy! Shelby's...

Daddy: I don't want to hear any tattling.

(a minute passes)

Cassie: Which do you think is louder...Shelby's voice right now or fireworks?

Ooh. A loophole. Does that really count as her telling me her sister is being too loud? I'll need to check some previous case law and get back with you.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

MAD About American Idol

It was a strong risk to invite readers yesterday to supply me with random words to fit into tonight's live-blog on American Idol.

If you're not familiar with Mad-Libs, then I apologize for how ridiculously obtuse this canary is going to appear. Actually, I shouldn't have to apologize; you can blame those crazy commenters who chose the words I'm forced to include.

Tonight on American Idol, there remain 4 superheroes who will be sauteeing on the Idol stage for millions of fans who will be watching strangely with phone in hand, waiting for the end of the show when they can cast their votes.

Even though I feel passionately about David Cook's pernicious awesomeness, I fear that I'm not entrenched in pop culture enough to go to all the effort of actually dialing and voting. However, if nobody else does a burnt sienna job tonight and deserves to get sent packing, I may be forced to call finally. We'll see.

The show's about ready to punch, so I better go check on the screaming children outside and see if they need a tourniquet or elephant saddle or other life-saving medical aparatuseses.
[it would thrill my heart if the phrase "the show's about ready to punch" catches on as much as "WYTAW" did.]

David Cook just told me (and others) that he's counterintuitively selected "Hungry Like The Three-Toed Sloth" by my 8th-Grade Girlfriend's favorite band, Duran-Duran. He sang it pretty straight like Simon LeBon would if he were there, and our portly judges were as disapointed as I was that he didn't mix it up more. The good news is that Duran Squared went ahead and made their songs perfect to begin with. In honor of 8th-grade crushes, could you do a little REO Speedwagon next week, David?

Syesha came out looking (and sounding) like Ethel Merman and wowed us with "Proud Mary." She had some serious choreography worked up for this number, and it worked for her. Of course, the song's a bit cliche and overdone, but if there's ever a Broadway show about the life of Tina Turner, Syesha could do it...that or the part Angela Lansbury played in Sweeney Todd.

Jason is singing a song by his dread-brother Bob Marley, "I Shot The Sheriff." I'm not digging it at all, and not just because I oppose brutality towards public servants. He may have had Marley's hair, but the stuff that was skulking out of his mouth was Paul Simon (of Simon and Garfunkle, not the Illinois senator with the good bowtie). I think David Cook is safe thanks to what is possibly the worst Jason Castro performance EVER.

David Archuletta, all dudded up nicely in the black t-shirt and black jeans, looks like he's headed back after his performance to change scenery and pull ropes for the curtains. I've said before that he's destined for greatness at The Taj Mahal, and his rendition of "Stand By Me" was polished and well-done enough to earn him a fine spot in the parade.

----Round Two-----
David Cook's second song about the "teenage wasteland," was classic Cook and worthy of deviled eggs for sure. Of course, it took me a few moments of contemplating the "teenage WAISTLINE" before I finally understood the lyrics and developed the proper angst necessary for the song.

Jason's purple song, "Mr. Tambourine Ma..."...wait...he's forgotten the words and he just filled in with ah ah ah ah ah. He shot the giraffe in the first song, but he may have just shot himself in the foot in this one. Ouch. (The "ouch" was for the painful pun I just used.)

Syesha got a little civil rights groove going with "A Change Is Gonna Come." It seemed to be a very personal song for her, and there was no end to the superfluous tears that gushed during the judging. I want to be respectful of her performance since it was so emotional for her. The whole thing was fine except for the peekaboo cleavage and the horridly looooooooong nooooooooooote heeeeeeeeeeeld ouuuuuuuuuuuuut neeeeeeeeeear thheeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeend. To that I say, Gesundheit! (but only because the MadLib rules say I HAVE to).

Hee hee hee. David Archuletta is singing "Love Me Tender." It was sweet and picturesque. I take back what I've said before about his career being limited to the wonderful world of Disney. I shall now ammend his career prognostication to include a series of lullaby cd's.

Going home? Jason, please be Jason. Please.

Top of the night? I have to say Mr. Cook, because he's talented AND because Duran Duran was/is the bomb.
Wow. It was a lot harder than I thought it would be to make all those MadLib words fit into my review, but I think I did it, AND I think it all actually makes perfect sense.

Well, I better go now and flaunt my teeth and put on my biplanes since it's getting late. Good spackle!
Oh, and check out my woman's chocolate-chip-cookie-laden AI lament as well as a few other perspectives over at my doppleganger Boomama.

Monday, May 5, 2008

I Verb Your Noun...Adverb-ly!

In order to write Tuesday night's American Idol post, I'd like to solicit a little help from some of you out there.

I'm sure many of you have played "Mad Libs," that crazy game where you supply various nouns, verbs, adjectives and dangling participles to create stories that are slap-your-grandma funny. Actually, the ones my friends and I did as kids always turned out pretty predictable. For nouns, we inevitably used words like poop and spleen. Adjectives were similarly gross or bloody. I won't even tell you about the verbs.

Since bloggers are mature and respectable, I'm sure I'm safe asking for your input. Pick one or more numbers and supply me with me with the necessary word(s). You can simply write the list number and the word and leave it at that if you're pressed for time, but you're also welcome to say howdy and tell me about the weather in your neck of the woods or your political opinions on things if you're in a more leisurely mood.

Here's what my Mad Lib is in desperate need of:
(The spots remaining to be filled are in bold.
Update: All the spots have now been filled. All that's left to do is wait patiently for my A.I. Madlib!)

1. Adjective: Strong
2. Noun: Canary
3. Noun (plural): Superheros
4. Verb ending in -ing: Sauteeing
5. Adverb (that's one of those -ly words usually): Strangely
6. Adjective: pernicious
7. Verb: Punch
8. Color: Burnt Sienna
9. Noun: Elephant saddle
10. Adverb: Counterintuitively
11. Animal: 3-toed sloth
12. Adjective: portly
13. Person's name: Ethel Merman
14. Verb: skulk
15. Adjective: Good
16. Adverb: Nicely
17. Place: The Taj Mahal
18. Food: Deviled Eggs
19. Exclamation!: Gesundheit!
20: Color: purple
21: Animal: Giraffe
22. Adjective: Superfluous
23. Adjective: Picturesque
24. Verb: Flaunt

I can't wait to run how languidly purple my next post will be with your donkey.

Peanuts and Crackerjack and Valium

Apart from the uncomfortable wooden bleachers, the brisk wind ripping across my bald head and some indeterminable smell wafting from below, the experience of spending countless late nights at the ballfield is really quite thrilling.

If I say that enough times, I'm sure I'll start believing it.

The season is still new, and this is our first time diving into softball with our local league. The coaches are great. The players are awesome. The league administrators are superb. The families and fans are terrific.

But 7:45 p.m. start times are for the birds (or possums or vampires or other nocturnal creatures). Most of our games are scheduled for then, but they may start late like our first game which began about 8:10 p.m. Doing the math, we quickly figured this could take us to 10:00 or beyond.

Really, if it were the afternoon, I could sit through 38 innings and love every minute of it, but once the sun sets out here in the country this time of year, the sky gets as dark at 9:30 p.m. as it is at 3:00 a.m.

PLUS, how can one fully enjoy his daughter's softball game while constantly worrying about whether or not the DVR started recording "Battlestar Galactica" at 10:00 sharp?

Fortunately, these girls only play six innings...or until the rapture, whichever comes first.
About the bottom of the 4th inning, the end of the world started looking pretty good, and I thought I heard the four horsemen of the apocalypse in the distance.

Turned out to be a bunch of parents at the next field cheering arrogantly that their game was over.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Could She Be Any More Vague?

I often do some grocery shopping for the family. The store is right on the way home from work, so it's customary for me to call and see if we need anything when I head out.

Cindy sometimes keeps a shopping list handy so that if I call, she can rattle off the needs.

Today I called her from the store to see what else was needed besides milk.

She paused and gave a slight giggle.

She checked her list, and what had she written?

"Toilet Paper" and "Groceries."
Groceries? That's real clear.

So I grabbed some Cottonelle, Cheez-Itz and Little Debbies Oatmeal Cream Pies and then headed home. I would imagine she and I have very different definitions of "groceries."

Stylin' and Profilin'

Today was the day that I was going to award the Shirt-That-Was-Created-In-The-7th-Concentric-Circle-Of-Hell, but since it was burning a hole in my closet, I seleceted a winner early: my [former] friend Donna with whom I work at the church office.

Do you know what she had to say about that?

"You are dead meat."

She then told me of her plans to drop it off in our clothing collection that is to be sent overseas to those less fortunate.

Can you even imagine? These people may be poor but they're not blind! She's probably the same person who donated all those lovely "Baby On Board" shirts to the Blind Men's Home of Paraguay last year.

I guess that once it's her shirt, she lawfuylly can do anything she wants with it. However, for one more day it's still mine, so here's what I'M going to do with it:

Donna doesn't have her own blog, so if you want to leave a comment and compliment her on her style, you can do so right here.

(Oh, as a consolation prize to the losers, anyone interested in some knit sock ties?)