Sorry I'm late folks. We had my mother here for Christmas and yesterday we took her to my brother's for the holiday handoff. We visited and didn't get home until late last night.
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December 30, 1972
Dear John: When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop.
Cordially, Agnes
I interrupt the latest instalment of our 12 Days saga to report on the latest violence in the Middle East.
Rival priests brawl inside Bethlehem church (what better way to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace - at his birthplace?)
Groups of Greek Orthodox and Armenian priests attacked each other with brooms and stones inside the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. The church houses the site believed by most Christians to be the birthplace of Jesus. The incident occurred during an annual cleaning ceremony which precedes the Armenian and Orthodox Christmas in January.
The altercation seems to have been the result of a long-standing feud between the two rival gangs who, along with the Roman Catholic gang, run the turf contained inside the Basilica under a truce between the three groups. The unholy, er, uneasy alliance allows the three hostile factions dominion over their own church turf however encroachment into a rival gang's church territory is not taken lightly and retribution is often swift and violent.
Palestinian police separated the groups and restored order. Associated Press photographers were ordered out of the church but not before capturing the events leading to the incident on the following video.
December 28, 1972
Dear John: Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You are being too romantic.
Affectionately, Agnes
December 27, 1972
Dear John: Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three French hens! They are just darling, but I must insist, you've been too kind.
All my love, Agnes
I've been absent lately. Sorry about that but with the holidays and all it's been kinda busy. I'll be in and out sporadically over the next few days.
In the meantime I'll leave you with this festive holiday story:
Rampaging Santas strike New Zealand cinema
Ho Ho Ho.
Okay, so our youngest daughter was in her middle school production of "A Christmas Carol" this past Friday night. She played young Ebenezer's fiancee in Christmas past and she was wonderful. Our oldest had just gotten home from college that morning and brought along her boyfriend to visit for a few days. The whole family was there. I was proud of my baby and fun was had by all.
After the show we decided we all wanted to go to the movies to see "I Am Legend" because we wouldn't have been able to sleep at night without helping Wil Smith break a huge box office record for the weekend. We had some time to kill so we grabbed a quick dinner then headed to the theater.
There we are at the ticket window. My wife, me, our three kids and my daughter's boyfriend. The oldest and her boyfriend are college students. The other two kids are in high school and middle school respectively. The sign has a regular, full price and a STUDENT price. So my wife asks for two adults and four students.
The troll hiding behind bullet-proof glass (for a reason) in the booth says she needs to see student ID's. The two 19 year olds produce college ID's. The 16 year old produces a high school ID. The 11 year old (because they don't issue ID's in middle school) gets busted for trying to buy popcorn without a license.
Troll: "You're going to have to pay full price for her."
Wife: "So, the two college students and the high school student can get the student price but the 11 year old can't?"
Troll: "Sorry." (At least it sounded like sorry, I wasn't totally sure because of the raw goat leg she was gnawing on).
Wife: "You're really not going to give her the student price just because she doesn't have an ID?"
Troll (lips curled in an angry sneer, fangs dripping with goat blood): No, I'm not and it won't do you any good to argue about it."
Wife: "I'm not arguing, I'm expressing disbelief over how ridiculous it is that the older students can get in but she can't even though she is clearly a school age girl. Don't you think that's just a little ridiculous?"
Troll: "No."
At this point we had the tickets (three student, three full price) and everyone just wanted to go see the movie. But I, not being happy with the level of aggravation to which the troll had been aroused entered the fray.
Me: "What are you saying? Are you saying that you don't believe we send our children to school? She's clearly school aged. So, if she's not a student then you must be saying that we don't send her to school."
Troll (who had now resorted to using the microphone instead of just snarling through the glass): I could have enforced our rule that "student" only applies to COLLEGE students but I didn't. I didn't have to discount the other girl."
Me (matching her volume without the microphone): "Oh so that interaction you just had with my wife was you being NICE? And what do you mean "student" only means "college student"? Where does it say that on the sign? SHOW ME WHERE IT SAYS THAT ON THE SIGN!"
The last was said as I was being dragged away from the ticket booth. Likely a good thing since the next words out of my mouth were going be something along the lines of "I can see why they keep you in that cage you fucking primate!" Then I would've missed the movie.
Once inside the theater.
Perky blonde taking tickets (with big smile and in a very friendly voice): Hello and welcome. Thank you for coming. May I take your ticket please?"
Me: Wow. You're MUCH more friendly and pleasant than the hag out in the ticket booth."
Perky blonde taking tickets: Yeah. I get that a lot.
I hate officious idiotic pricks with a little power.
I know I've mentioned the fact that I'm married before. And that we have a great relationship and I'm an extraordinarily lucky man. I'm extraordinarily lucky for reasons too numerous to list. Today I shall list one. My wife is...are you ready?...A Writer. A writer as in a professional, published writer. But it gets better. To be more specific my wife is a Romance Writer. That is to say, she writes romance novels for a living. She's a multi-published, award winning, real-life romance novelist. And she's all mine. Cool huh?
I though I'd mention this today as an introduction to the fact that I want to give her a little promotional consideration. As it happens, now through the end of the month you have the opportunity to sample some of her work absolutely free. Harlequin, her publisher, is featuring one of her complete stories as their daily online read at their website eHarlequin. It will be posted one chapter each weekday through the end of the month. It started this past Monday so there are already five chapters available. It's called "And a Dead Guy in a Pear Tree" and yes, it's Christmas themed. Can't you tell?
Her next book "One Wild Wedding Night" will be released next month.
You can read a description and an excerpt on her website. Then you can go buy it. Then look for all the books on her backlist. And buy them too. Hey, we have a kid in college and two more behind her. And I want to retire into the lap of luxury. But besides that she's a great writer and you'll love her. She's my favorite author and I couldn't be more proud of her.
I told you I was a lucky guy.
Sorry I've been missing in action for the last few days. The weekend was...well, the weekend. And Monday was my day off and I had better things to do (no offense). Yesterday...I had nothin'. I'm trying to sort out another writing project (that has been laying dormant for far too long) in my head and get it from outline form into something resembling a proposal, so my mind was elsewhere.
Interesting article yesterday on Yahoo. Historian: First English Bible Fueled First Fundamentalists. James Simpson, a professor of English at Harvard University believes that once the bible was translated into colloquial English by William Tyndale in 1525, newly literate Englishmen were terrified by the frightening moral code and began following it "to the letter" in order to avoid misinterpreting it.
Before getting to the blog I'd like to take a moment to recognize today December 7th, Pearl Harbor Day in honor of all those of that generation who served in World War II.
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I thought the subject of this blog was rather timely since lately we've all been traveling back through time to visit our 13 year old selves.
I was surfing around a couple of months ago for a reason that I've since forgotten and somehow stumbled on a discussion forum. To this day I don't know what the forum is or even if it has a specific purpose but I happened on a thread that cracked me up. A bunch of (presumably) geeky kids have proposed and are attempting to organize "Pretend to be a Time Traveler day". The comments on the thread are pretty amusing to read. Don't ask me why but I love this idea. Maybe it appeals to the 45% abnormal part of me that I discoverd I had thanks to Kitty's quiz. The date is set for tomorrow - Saturday December 8th. Here are some guidelines from the originator of the idea:
You must spend the entire day in costume and character. The only rule is that you cannot actually tell anyone that you are a time traveler. Other than that, anything's game.
There are three possible options:
1) Utopian/cliché Future - "If the Future did a documentary of the last fifty years, this is how badly the reenactors would dress." Think Star Trek: TNG or the Time Travelers from Hob. Ever see how the society in Futurama sees the 20th century? Run with it. Your job is to dress with moderately anachronistic clothing and speak in slang from varying decades. Here are some good starters:
- Greet people by referring to things that don't yet exist or haven't existed for a long time. Example: "Have you penetrated the atmosphere lately?" "What spectrum will today's broadcast be in?" and "Your king must be a kindly soul!"
- Show extreme ignorance in operating regular technology. Pay phones should be a complete mystery (try placing the receiver in odd places). Chuckle knowingly at cell phones.
2) Dystopian Future - This one offers a little more flexibility. It can be any kind of future from Terminator to Freejack. The important thing to remember is dress like a crazy person with armor. Black spray painted football pads, high tech visors, torn up trenchcoats and maybe even some dirt here or there. Remember, dystopian future travelers are very startled that they've gone back in time. Some starters:
- If you go the "prisoner who's escaped the future" try shaving your head and putting a barcode on the back of your neck. Then stagger around and stare at the sky, as if you've never seen it before.
- Walk up to random people and say "WHAT YEAR IS THIS?" and when they tell you, get quiet and then say "Then there's still time!" and run off.
- Stand in front of a statue (any statue, really), fall to your knees, and yell "NOOOOOOOOO" - Stare at newspaper headlines and look astonished.
- Take some trinket with you (it can be anything really), hand it to some stranger, along with a phone number and say "In thirty years dial this number. You'll know what to do after that." Then slip away.
3) The Past - This one is more for beginners. Basically dress in period clothing (preferably Victorian era) and stagger around amazed at everything. Since the culture's set in place already, you have more of a template to work off of. Some pointers:
- Airplanes are terrifying. Also, carry on conversations with televisions for a while.
- Discover and become obsessed with one trivial aspect of technology, like automatic grocery doors. Stay there for hours playing with it.
- Be generally terrified of people who are dressed immodestly compared to your era. Tattoos and shorts on women are especially scary.
And that's it. Remember, the only real rule is staying in character and try to fit in. Never directly admit you're a time traveler, and make really, really bad attempts at keeping a low profile.
Flaunt your abnormality! Get out there and act crazy - these days who the hell will notice? And try not to get arrested. Have a great weekend.
I was tagged earlier this week by my buddy Mike over at Tongue In Check to do a Meme created by Malach. The rules are:
Link back to the person who tagged you.
Send a letter back in time to your 13 year old self.
Tag 5 more people to do this meme.
Dear Bruce,
This is a letter from you – 35 years in the future. The year for you is 1972 and you’re 13 years old. For me (well, you really) it’s 2007 and I’m 48. Yeah I know, you think that’s really OLD but trust me you’ll rethink that when you get here. You’re experiencing some disbelief but just go with it. I know that out of anyone in your family you’ll be able to accept this.
Some background on you so hopefully you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. You’re the youngest of four brothers. The older three are all close in age but there’s an 11 year gap between you and the next oldest. You’re “the baby”. You hate that but you might as well accept it, it won’t stop. It’ll always be that way and you’ll hate it even more by the time you get to where I am. You live with your parents, brothers and your grandparents in an extended family. You father is Irish but everyone else is either all or half Italian and they’re volatile. It’s loud and the general form of communicating is yelling. You sometimes feel like you were adopted. You were not. You have big spaghetti dinners every Sunday and you love to sneak in the kitchen to steal a freshly made meatball or dip a piece of bread in the sauce pot when you think your grandmother isn’t looking. She is and she knows. When you were little you loved riding around with your grandfather (even though you usually got car sick before the end of the driveway, see, I know) when he ran errands for his business. You’ll never forget when you were around ten and he took you to lunch in a restaurant called “The Boat House”. He led you to a back booth, ordered two roast beef sandwiches and two beers and told you to enjoy. He knew long before you did that you were too sheltered and more than a little bit spoiled by your mother and that it needed to change.
That memory makes it hard for me to tell you what I’m about to say. Your grandfather is sick and in the hospital, you know that. What you don’t know is that he will never come home. Even though no one has told you the truth, he’s very sick and I’m sorry to say that he’ll be gone in less than a month. Because you have again been sheltered you will never be taken to the hospital to see him. Insist on going. Your family has good intentions but that seldom makes them right. You should have the chance to say goodbye. I’m sorry.
With the exception of 4th grade (that teacher was a witch, just forget about it) school so far hasn’t been bad. You’re about to enter 7th grade in Junior High School and I’m very sorry to tell you that it will be the worst year you’ll have in school. You are in a very difficult transitional period in life and there are others who will add greatly to that difficulty. An evil demon from hell in the human form of a girl with the initials SS (you know her) will continue to enjoy using you as a target and she will only get worse. It’s never cool to hit a girl no matter how badly you want to but take solace in the fact that Karma is real and she’ll be just as miserable an adult as she is a kid. If it makes you feel better, spit on her when no one’s looking. Also, there’s a guy named Ron. Please remember that fighting never solved anything, should be avoided and that you shouldn’t be the one to start a fight. Except in this case. On the first day you meet him, punch him in the face as hard as you can. Drop him like a fucking bad habit. Trust me it will save you a lot of problems down the road and it certainly won’t hurt your relationship with him. The good news is that you’ll have some good teachers to talk to, the year will end, and you’ll be a stronger person for the experience. After that it starts getting better and you’ll actually begin to enjoy yourself.
Your brother is about to start his own trash removal business. You’re going to start working for him on weekends and summer vacations. It will be exactly what you need for a while. It’ll keep you busy, put some money in your pocket, and the physical labor will have you in great shape by the time you’re in high school. You’ll come out of that transitional phase that I mentioned just fine.
Now’s the time that you should start working on being a better student. You’re not stupid, in fact, you’re pretty smart (if I do say so myself) but you are lazy and unmotivated. That will be made worse by the dread of going to school every day this coming year. You don’t want to form habits that will last into the following years so you need to make a special effort whether you want to or not. It will be worth it. You have a pretty curious mind and you like to learn about a wide variety of subjects and figure out how things work. That will never change. What you do need to try to change is your follow-through. There’s nothing wrong with sampling a lot of different things but once in a while stick with something long enough to be good at it. It doesn’t happen overnight. For instance, you know those guitar lessons you took? I really wish you would’ve kept at it. You’re not terribly musically inclined but you’ll always wish that you were so practice. By the way, while we’re talking about music. Do you remember when you were in Cub Scouts and your dad was troop leader and they brought in some music teacher to organize you to sing Christmas carols to the people at the old folk’s home? And the guy said you couldn’t sing and made you take a speaking part? That shit still bothers you/me. Who the hell tells a kid that he can’t sing Christmas carols to old deaf people in an old folks home? Fuck him! If you ever get the chance, take singing lessons. You’ll never be a great singer, you’ll probably never be a good singer but at least you won’t be afraid to sing Happy Birthday out loud to your kids.
After high school you will go to college at a small school in Maryland. It will be a fantastic experience for you. It will open the door for you to things that you never knew existed and will provide a much needed opportunity to grow and mature. It’s a liberal arts school and despite its religious affiliation and the presence of that influence, you’ll never feel that anything is being shoved down your throat. You’ll learn how to think, not what to think. That’s more valuable than you know. You’re not going to be a doctor but that’s okay, you never really wanted to be anyway. A few years after school you’ll fall into a profession and although you’ll never be particularly passionate, you’ll do well. There will be a few bumps along the way with work, mainly due to the fact that you just don’t fit in well with the corporate world and their bullshit – you’re too independent (deep down, you don’t care much for authority, in particular, the abuse of authority). All in all you’ll do okay.
I’m sure you find this all very interesting but I know you well my friend and what you really want to know about is girls. Before I go into that let me say this. You have and will continue to have a passing interest in astrology (not the “the stars rule my life” kind of interest, more like the “what’s the weather going to be like this week?” kind). You’re a Pisces and the classic description of a Pisces fits you to a tee. You’re romantic, creative, imaginative, a dreamer, and you’re sensitive. You’re sensitive to others that you care about BUT you also get your feelings hurt easily. Less so as you get older but still, it’s there. Also, you love to be in the company of girls. That’s been true ever since you discovered them in kindergarten. Those two facts about you taken together will prove to be a blessing and a curse for a long time…but in the end it will work out splendidly. In the first grade you fell in love with Juanita and risked ridicule from other boys by playing hopscotch with her at recess. That more or less set a precedent. In a few years when you’re looking at extra-curricular activities, I’ve got one word for you. Theater. Think about it. In sports you’ve got a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys rolling around on the grass with each other and taking showers together. In theater you’ve got a bunch of attractive, talented, creative girls; a bunch of gay (in 1972 that would be queer, but we don’t say that anymore, it’s offensive) guys; and YOU. Do the math. Besides, it comes into play later.
In high school you’re in great shape, you’re not bad looking, you start to get noticed and have fun but not much really happens. College is where it takes off. You have a series of relationships with high highs, low lows and you will get hurt. But I’m not going to warn you off of any of them. You will learn from them but more importantly in some weird fated way each one leads you to the next one until eventually you arrive at the ONLY one. At the end of your senior year you’ll meet someone from outside school. You’ll move in with her and stay in Maryland after graduation. She’s NOT the one. In the fall of 1981 when you’re 22 you’ll go to see her in a theater production. You won’t know it but there you’ll catch your first glimpse of the right one. Three years and a lot of life experience for both of you passes before you’ll see her again. This time you’ll both be in a theater production. She’s beautiful, smart, talented, and funny and she looks amazing in a sweater. You become friends and a lot of flirting takes place. The show ends and you part company but you think about her a lot. Be patient. In the spring you stage manage the next production. One Sunday night you walk into the rehearsal studio and see her across the room. She’ll be wearing a white dress with a red belt and red high-heeled shoes. Fasten your seatbelt. Take that first step towards her and do not look back. I’ve given you more information here than I probably should have but I do not want you to fuck this up. Honestly I believe that it's meant to happen and it will no matter what you do, so be patient and let it. I can’t stress how important this is. She will be your life and is mine and everything meaningful for you from that point on will come through being with her. We’ve been together for 22 years, we have three beautiful daughters that fill us with joy and pride and I promise you…life is good. It all starts when you realize that you cannot let her get away, so don’t.
That’s not to say that there will be no bad. I wrestled with warning you about some painful things that will happen along the way but in the end I can’t for fear of changing what comes after. If I had assurances that nothing in my present would change I would give you much more information but no such assurances exist so I'm forced to let life happen. I’m sorry. More sorry than I can tell you. Sometimes bad things happen to good people but life moves forward. Don’t take anyone or anything for granted.
Remember to close your mouth and open your mind and that life is a journey that ends with the destination of death. You'll never know how long the journey will be, only how long it was. Enjoy the ride and don’t be in a rush to reach the destination. It’s all about the ride. You’re doing fine - you will do fine - and as I said, life really is good.
Oh, two more things.
1) The first Saturday in May 2005. The Kentucky Derby. Bet the #10, #18, # 12, and #17 horse on the Superfecta. A $2 ticket will win a record $1.7 million.
2) Powerball lottery drawing for Wednesday August 22, 2007, numbers 12, 37, 40, 48, 50 and powerball 37. There was no winner for that drawing and it rolls over to $340 million. You can get a ticket in Pennsylvania. Don’t forget.
As far as who to tag...This meme has been circulating all week and I'm late getting it done so most everybody I know has already been tagged. So I will nominate:
1. Crashed Site
2. Spirit Uncensored
3. Three players to be named later or anyone that hasn't been tagged that wants to take a crack at it.
Our world obviously doesn't have enough serious problems in it these days. People just have too much time on their hands. A particular group of people that have too much time on their hands are the members of the world's organized revealed religions. These are the people who have a direct line to God right? I would think given the state of things here on good old Earth that these folks would be on their knees lighting up the night sky with a celestial phone bank on a heavenly telethon asking God to fix things toot sweet. Even if they aren't fully occupied doing that you'd think with all the time they spend telling the rest of us what we'll be damned for and trying to get laws passed to force us to be moral that there just wouldn't be enough time left in the day. But alas and alack.
First we have a nation arresting an elementary school teacher for letting her class name a teddy bear after their prophet (never mind the fact that half the kids in her class either have the name themselves or have relatives who do) because, you know, that is a much more serious affront to God than say, the little problem in DARFUR!!!. And don't worry, I won't print the teddy bear's name here. I live in fear of a suicide blogger (of course it would be okay if HE had that name).
Now I read this:
Saints on cellphones spark controversy in Italy
Catholics there are up in arms over a company that sells electronic pictures of your favorite patron saint that you can download to your cell phone. I grew up in an Italian household and the little saint pictures (called santino - little saint) were all over the place. They're like...Catholic baseball cards. All the relatives carried them. I even had some. My mother gave me one when I went to college to keep on my desk - St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases. I don't know what the hell she was trying to tell me but it wasn't very inspirational. This cell phone thing strikes me as a normal step into the electronic age and certainly isn't any less reverent than folding up the picture, putting it in your wallet and sitting on it. And yet the critics find it disrespectful.
"This is in really bad taste," Bishop Lucio Soravito De Franceschi, a member of the Italian bishops conference committee for doctrinal matters, told the Turin newspaper La Stampa.
"It is a distortion of sacred things ... selling 'santini' for cell phones is horrifying," he said.
Horrifying! Oh my. Thank goodness the church is on top of stopping things that are horrifying. My word, I can't think of a single thing more horrifying than having an electronic picture of some dead guy that the church declared holier than the rest of us on your cell phone! Truly horrifying...and in bad taste. Clearly we should be more tasteful and honor these holy servants of God as the church does.
Throughout it's history the church SO revered these Saints that they opened their tombs in order to conduct a "translation of relics". That's a tasteful way of saying removing their remains and placing them in reliquaries to be "venerated" and later divided up and distributed as Holy Relics of the Church. In many cases the head or entire limbs of the saint were displayed. Of course it was declared illegal to sell such relics but only after a roaring cottage industry sprung up selling fakes thus cutting into their action. At one point Europe had a dozen or more holy foreskins of Jesus vying for the title of the one and true foreskin of the savior. In fact one town in, yes, Italy had the last of those foreskins on record in a jewel-encrusted reliquary that was paraded through the streets on the (and I can't type this without laughing) Feast of the Circumcision (seriously, look it up) as late as 1983. Unfortunately it was stolen by thieves presumably for the jewels but you never know.
I would like to propose that those filthy infidels...wait, wrong group...I mean heretics that would dare engage in the HORRIFYING practice of having a picture of a saint on their cell phone be stoned like it says in the bible. No, no, not harsh enough. They should be tortured into admitting their sin like they were during the Inquisition. Nope, not nearly horrible enough. They should be slaughtered out of existence by invading armies of explorers, ah no, that won't do! They should be BURNED ALIVE!!! Dammit! CRAP! I just can't think of a punishment HORRIBLE enough for this blatant demonstration of bad taste. I pray that someone from the Holy See is inspired to come up with something suitable. After all they have plenty of time on their hands what with nothing more important going on in the world.
While I wait for word from the church I'm gonna try to get my hands on that Teddy Bear. I'm cuttin' that sonofabitch up and sellin' his ass on Ebay! Praise the Lord!
Which in turn reminds me, for some strange reason, of Moose Lips.
Which aren't something I'd want to put in my mouth either for breakfast or to stop coughing.In any case, what I really began to think about was advertising campaigns for drugs. I don't know about the rest of you but I don't send my 12 year old out to buy medicine for me. So could someone please tell me why the hell all of our physical ailments have to be portrayed by cartoons on the commercials? I don't want to think about a lungful of mucus having a dance party in my chest. It's bad enough it's making me cough without thinking about what it's doing with Mrs. Mucus down there.
What the hell are these blobby things on the Zoloft commercial supposed to be anyway? So Zoloft turns you from a sad blob into a happy blob? Welcome to America.
Don't even get me started about Toenail Fungus!
And why do they use cartoons for some and not others? Why not cartoon critters for a cure for crabs, jock itch, or yeast infections? They would all seem to lend themselves to the use of animated creatures crawling around your body crevasses. Wait, I know I know, they could get Bob the Builder to be spokesman for Viagra or Levitra and have this little cartoon construction team with a crane working in the background. Whadaya think?
