Thursday, December 11, 2014
Friday, November 28, 2014
(martyr part) I'm sorry I missed you yesterday, but the three-hour 50-mile drive home after my 60-hour four-day work week did me in.
(Oscar-worthy faux tear-jerking part) When I got home, the house was cold and empty because my family is away, but I was got to talk on the phone with many loved ones before hitting the sack.
(legitimately awesome part) I am thankful that I got fourteen hours of sleep, and can now parade around the house naked, eating a giant piece of pumpkin pie with my hands, and the new AC/DC album killing my eardrums from the stereo.
No work today. Life is good.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Me: I think it’s the one that’s been dive-bombing us all day. I punched it earlier. Does it look like the same one?
[Wife]: How should I know? It’s a FLY.
Me: I hope it gets a leg cramp.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Monday, July 7, 2014
The carpet is fresh and fluffy like baby bunnies, the dishes are ready for foreign dignitaries, the furniture gleams like a new father's eye, the toilet is fresh and clean like a brand new day in politics untouched by outside money, and the mirror shows me clear and new, looking just as I looked twenty years ago.
That's how I know [Wife] will need to redo the mirrors. I can never get the mirrors quite right.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Friday, May 23, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
In my world, Loyalty and Duty are key to making the human race something other than a seething mass of monkeys.
Yes, humans are still ego-driven and self-centered and narcissistic and easily distracted by shiny objects and in general humans suck,
every person I love is still a person, so I guess I love people. With all our flaws, I love people.I don’t so much love people who are disloyal, or people who abandon their duty. Nobody owns a duty they didn't choose. I chose a workplace job that allows me to provide for my family in the best way I can.
It is a duty I chose. I may not always enjoy the workplace job itself, but it is still the best available option for me, as far as I can tell. If I abandoned my workplace job, I could no longer do right by my family. Bad tidings would ensue.
I go to work because that’s the duty I chose. I am a loyal friend and mate because I can’t be anything else. No extra effort is required of me. I am just loyal.
And I abandoned them. I abandoned them and Arya Stark, and Bran, and Sansa, and everybody who is helping them - I’ve known these characters and loved them all for years, and yet I have abandoned them to a life (however long) of torment and despair at the hands of author George R. R. Martin.
I feel terrible about it. Every time I pass the end table in my living room, I can see A Dance with Dragons laying where I left it, bookmark still in place. It taunts. I know it contains the answers I seek about the Stark children and about all of Daenerys’ terrible choices, but I am just not strong enough to sustain all the horror and brutality that befalls them on the pages.
Please understand my conflict - books and characters are people, and I have abandoned them!
Here’s what’s even worse: I have taken up with other books and characters.
I am emotionally compromised from my workplace job. Like the Game of Thrones books, my workplace is also a relentlessly brutal place full of surprising twists that make the situation worse each chapter.
With my own real-life-generated stresses, I cannot sustain any more George R. R. Martin inflicted pain.
THAT”S my excuse for cheating.
I turned my back on all the George Martin characters. In my time of emotional weakness, I sought refuge in my vast library of books I haven’t gotten to just yet but that I keep collecting because I have a sickness (Bibliophilia? Bibliomania?).In my library at home await detectives and rebels, soldiers and Jedi, wizards, and a seething mass of humanity in prose. All of them, waiting for me. All of them invited onto my bookshelf at the beginning of a promise I made to them that they would get my attention and they could tell me their story.
AND my copy had kind of lame cover art.
AND I read it anyway. And . . . I could not stop.
As it turns out, The Last Unicorn is utterly, overwhelmingly delightful. Every phrase is poetry, a lyrical and spare prose that allows a reader the feeling of what is described and what it means all at once.
“The unicorn lived in a lilac wood, and she lived all alone. She was very old, though she did not know it, and she was no longer the careless color of sea foam but rather the color of snow falling on a moonlit night. But her eyes were still clear and unwearied, and she still moved like a shadow on the sea.”
Every sentence evokes memory and sentiment, without the book itself being very sentimental. It is a book of love, about love, made of love. And as adults, we know that love can be harsh.
This is not a children’s story, it is a live story. It is FULL of life. Fantasy life, made real by the brilliantly unusual prose.
At one point, the unicorn is turned against her will into a human girl:
“For a moment she turned in a circle, staring at her hands, which she held high and useless, close to her breast. She bobbed and shambled like an ape doing a trick, and her face was the silly, bewildered face of a joker’s victim. And yet she could make no move that was not beautiful. Her trapped terror was more lovely than any joy that Molly had ever seen, and that was the most terrible thing about it.”
This is a book for any child old enough to want to read it, and for every adult, because they should.
This story made me pause for air. Peter Beagle wrote something that caused my eyes to leak.
Like a straying wayward husband, I may at some point come back to A Dance with Dragons because what is happening to the people inside the book?! but first I am adding more Peter Beagle books to my crowded and neglected shelf full of family I haven’t gotten around yet to reading.
All of you waiting for me inside the books: I will come to you soon!
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Took [Daughter] to the Coliseum so we could watch our Oakland Athletics shuffle meekly into the dustpan as they helped the Texas Rangers finish off their sweep.
After I finished slathering on the nasty white SPF 185 sunscreen that keeps me from contracting instant cancer, [Daughter] looked at me funny and said "You've got sunscreen on your beard".
I wiped where she showed me. She said, "Still white."
I wiped again. [Daughter] peered closer. "Oh. Your beard is just white. Nevermind."
Friday, February 21, 2014
I am standing in my living room, surrounded by cardboard Shoe Packaging Carnage.
[Wife] (brightly): Does everything fit?
[Wife]: So why do you look so depressed?
[Me]: That was a LOT of money. For SHOES. Who cares about shoes?! Shoes aren't fun. You just wear them. If I'm gonna spend that much money at once, it should be for a team of strippers who bring me a Corvette and feed me desserts.
[Wife]: I never have negative emotions about shoes.
[Me]: You SHOULD!
Sunday, February 2, 2014
- My work kicks into Screamin’ High Gear in November each year, and it hasn't yet calmed down. And for Pete's sake we are currently in February if I've done the math right.
- I tore up another shoulder and can’t actually reach up and down to shelves and put stuff away up there. It's the good shoulder this time. By which I mean the least recently injured shoulder, that before this injury was the most functional shoulder. Pretty soon I'm going to be driving with my teeth.
- These backlogged books ain’t gonna read themselves, ya know.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
- Get in better shape - don't care how much I weigh, I just want to be in better shape. Stronger, leaner, with cheeks that don't weigh twenty pounds each and make me sound like Alfred Hitchcock .
- Become more compassionate and patient. Also: stop being so compassionate and patient with EVERYBODY, but mete out my compassion in moderation. Be more moderate with my compassion? F*** it, I'll settle for being moderately more compassionate, and if that's not good enough for you it's because you're a jerk. NEXT!
- Get out of my own head and experience somebody else's thought processes and worldview by reading more than I did the year prior.
- Get my own thoughts out of my head and put them down on paper so someone else can experience my thought processes by reading things I write. So: I have to actually write instead of just wishing I had more time to write..