Little Boy Blue and the Man on the Moon

My oldest son just started second grade at the local elementary school. Yesterday I was describing our typical luck in preparation for the first day of school to one of my fellow painters:

I said, "We've bought him new school clothes already but we haven't found any shoes that we like. He still has two pairs of shoes from last year. One pair is old and ratty but the other shoes are still in good condition so we figured he would be okay until we find some new shoes that we like..."

I continued, "...but our two youngest kids have had some kind of walking flu or something lately. They'll throw up and get diarreah for a couple of days and then they'll be fine for a couple of days and then out of nowhere they'll throw up and get diarreah again and then they'll be fine for a couple of days..."

The painter said, "Dude, you totally just described MY life."

Ew. Anyway, I said, "So we come home late Sunday night and I set our two year old on the couch for a second. My oldest son pops his good shoes off in front of the couch. Then the two year old suddenly leans over the edge of the couch and throws up into both shoes...

...so Ethan had to wear the old ratty shoes on his first day of school...

...but there are a couple of trailer parks in our neighborhood, so I doubt anyone will think anything of it but we really need to find him some new shoes today."

I hate to be hard on teachers because I know a couple of teachers may be reading this site, but I think teachers are aware that parents are judging them harshly. When we took Ethan to school in the morning, they had four different classes line up or cluster around one entryway. We know his teachers name but have no other knowledge aside from that. Four teachers came to collect their classes and there was much confusion. The lady that I assume was Ethan's teacher stood in front of the door and said, "My class, come with me." And then she walked inside. She didn't introduce herself. She didn't give us any idea who might be in her class. She just said those words and walked off. But we saw other kids from Ethan's class following her so we sent him in.

It's not a big deal. But in the back of my mind I'm thinking, "Strike one, lady."

And I'm probably polluting Ethan's mind when it comes to school. I keep telling him things like, "If I didn't have to make you go to school, I wouldn't." I tell him that going to school is his responsibility like going to work is my responsibility. Then I ask him if he would rather go to school or stay home and never be a second grader. He told me he wants to finish all the grades so he can be a doctor some day. Or a fry cook.

Last year he got 100%s on almost all of his spelling tests so we started paying him $1 for each test that he aced. This year he has his pet Tiger Salamander, Zonk, and it costs $1 per week to buy the crickets we feed to the amphibian. I told Ethan to tell his new teacher, "If you don't give me 100's on all of my tests my salamander will die!"

Another funny thing about Ethan is that he is already into Heavy Metal. I never tried to teach him that hard rock was the best. Virtually EVERY song that comes on the radio and even most of my CD's are boring to him. We'll be driving in the car and you'll just hear a loud "Booooooooooooring!" float up from the backseat. He only likes stuff like Boston, 3 Days Grace, Megadeth and Linkin Park. If it doesn't have in-your-face guitar shredding then he doesn't like it. I got the new Smashing Pumpkins CD for my birthday and that BARELY got a nod of approval from him. It sounds cool that he likes hard rock but it's difficult to consistently pump out songs with that much energy in them.

After riding in the car with him it's hard for me not to imagine his teacher in front of the class saying, "Okay children, let's all count to 100 by 5's." and then his patent "Boooooooring" comes wafting up from the back of the class and then the teacher sits quietly dreaming of all the ways she's going to mess up his permanent record.

But I told him that his responsibility is to go to school, learn, make friends and have fun. I'll tell you how it goes.

'Cos everybody hates a tourist, especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh

I'm not dead. I'm just working a lot and school is starting and my birthday is this week and my sister-in-law is getting married next week and it's our wedding anniversary and I'm broke as all get out. All I do is work so I'm not interested in talking about work right now. Instead I will talk about the rare and simple moments that I don't work:

Last week we took our lunch break from painting and got some chinese takeout. We went to my wife's aunt Dianne's house to eat it (She is the one I accused of having "noxious breath" when Ethan went to the emergency room last December). Every year my wife's extended family all gets together for a campout in the high Uintah Mountains. We went a couple of weeks ago but I was too busy to blog about it. But here is a picture I took on the way there:



If you are going to have a Nudist Ranch in Utah then you should definitely pick a place with an apt name like Beaver Creek. And you should also have a cool mascot like a bear wearing nothing but chaps, a pistol, a cowboy hat and a grin. If you would like to go, there is a chance that they are no longer "closed due to mosquitos." When I stopped to take the picture I noticed a trampoline behind the main complex so these people seem like they know how to party.

But back to the real story... When we got to Dianne's house with our chinese takeout she was excited to see me and told me she had the cutest picture of me and my son Jonah. I said something dumb like, "Does that mean it's a cute picture of me and Jonah happens to be in the picture?" and anyway she handed me a bunch of pictures and she did have a cool one of me riding my mountain bike with Jonah riding on the handle bars (which pretty much describes the entire camping trip because 2-yr-old Jonah wanted to ride on my handle bars 24 hours a day). I asked for a copy of the picture but she hasn't given me one yet.

Then I was talking to Dianne's daughter about how she was moving up to Logan, Utah to start college at Utah State. That's where I went to school for a spell. Then I asked the daughter what apartments she would be living in. When she told me the name of the apartments I said, "That's where I lived!" (along with Slimysculpin and Sandskier) when I met her cousin and married her. I told her not to makeout in the hot tub because the apartment manager would kick you out of the hot tub for that. I added, "...and you probably shouldn't mention to anyone around there that you know me."

Dianne told her daughter, "You see... you might meet the boy of your dreams up there." I briefly retold the story of how Eleanor and I met and emphasized that it definitely WASN'T love at first sight. Dianne told me the story of when she met her future and husband and how it WAS love at first sight for her. They were engaged within a month of meeting. And then she added, "... he told me later that part of the reason that he proposed so fast was because he was trying to decide whether or not he should sell his Chevy Caprice and getting married would affect his decision."

See girls?!?! You always THINK you want to know what's going on inside your man's head... it turns out that it's always much stupider than you thought. Uh... yeah, yeah, I could get married or I could not get married but I REALLY NEED to get this cosmic car situation sorted out and fast. I shouldn't knock Uncle Jeff. He is very smart and a great person. I just use that as an example as to why girls should just let guys keep quiet.

By this time, I still had half of my lunch left and my brothers-in-law and their cousin started griping, "This lunch break is taking way too long." Dianne started apologizing, "I'm sorry you guys... I just never get a chance to talk to Emmett and I had this neat picture of him..."

I feigned anger, "YEAH, YOU GUYS! DIANNE AND I NEVER GET ANY QUALITY TIME...!!!" I threw my food away and I said, "We'll come back again for lunch tomorrow, Dianne." We didn't go back, of course.

But that was probably the most fun I had all week. Sound fun to you?

If Prime can't laugh at himself then who can he laugh at?

No time to chit chat. But I thought I would present this tribute to one of the coolest movies of the summer. It's a re-dubbed version of Transformers. It's funny but don't watch it if you don't like trash talkin', potty-mouth robots.

Paralyzer Guitar Rip

I'm sorry, it's a sickness I can't help. It bothers me to see the Finger Eleven song "Paralyzer" at the top of the charts when the soul of the song is ripped off straight from a better band. Here is Paralyzer:



Compared to Led Zeppelin's "Trampled Underfoot":



Yes, all rock is ripped off from old school blues and jazz but Zeppelin at least established themselves as having actual talent for songwriting. I have a very strict rule about avoiding bands that have their first hit song be a cover song or obvious theft.

Paralyzer is as original as the idea of playing on a rooftop. It feels good to have that out of my system.

More Than A Feeling

Everyone knows that ladder makers always place a warning on their products that the top step is NOT A STEP. And, of course, most people think of those words as "just a suggestion." But a few weeks ago we were painting and we were running out of CD's to listen to so I popped my wife's copy of "Boston's Greatest Hits" into the player.

When they sell copies of Boston's Greatest Hits they should include a warning that air-guitaring is immenent when played at a loud volume. Anyway, based on my experience, I think ladder makers should take things a step further and include this type of warning on their products as well:



You might be thinking I'm wrong about Boston but you don't have to take my word for it:

Burning in a lake of fire

It finally feels like summer is kicking in for me. I haven't been doing much blogging but I've been out enjoying life now and again. For instance, we took our kids to Lagoon (Utah's sufficient arcade/zoo/theme park/roller coaster park/waterslide/historic site and purveyor of pioneer history). The furniture store gave us free tickets but we weren't going to go because we thought it would be torture standing in lines in crazy heat watching our kids have all the fun. But at the last minute we went anyhow and we all had a good time. So much fun, the kids all pitched a fit and cried the whole way home when we made them leave. For being a local gig, Lagoon is pretty impressive. It has decent rides with a lot of quiet areas tucked around. We went and found a quiet place to hang out in Pioneer Village and didn't see a soul around. When we bought some corn-on-the-cob we ate it while watching a family playing make-shift baseball in a small field of grass. I've decided I like Lagoon. It's a lot more relaxed than DisneyHell and all those others.

I've been dying to get back to Flaming Gorge and I missed my chance at the 4th of July because I thought my dad was coming to visit (he didn't), so we headed out there for the 24th of July, Utah's "Pioneer Day," a celebration of mormon's thinking they finally found a place where they wouldn't be run out of town. It's pretty much just a second 4th of July with more girls than usual walking around in bonnets.

I called up my old friend Geppetto to see if we could stay at his house. He said we could and that he also had full access to a Lotus Elise. And I had thought my trip would be cool because I was vacationing in Chaco sandals with a back up pair of Tevas.



I told my wife how I would love to move back to the Gorge. She said MAYBE should would consider moving to Vernal. What the...? Don't even compare the two. They are a world apart.

I have always felt like a superstar at the gorge. I am on familiar terms with all the local business owners, sheriffs, bishop and other members of the faculty. I show up and people hug and kiss me. They tell me they love me. Everyone wants to meet my kids and know how my family is doing. Every spot has a memory tied to it. I know as much about the dam as nearly any tour guide. I get invited to fish with river guides for free. I helped the Forest Service fix up the Swett Ranch. Like Butch Cassidy, I've been to Brown's Park 1.5 million times. I've caught frogs and snakes along the Green River. I've rafted to the islands and camped on them at night. I've sat at the top of the Cart Creek bridge in the moonlight. I've stared down and rappelled into more of those canyons than I can name. I know what many of the trails look like by mountain bike and cross country skis. I've watched the Kokanee salmon head up Sheepcreek Bay to spawn and die on more than one occassion. The list goes on and on...

My wife thinks all of that is nice, if those are your priorities in life. The real problem is... if she lived in Flaming Gorge she couldn't go to Target everyday. She couldn't buy 5 pairs of shoes and then return 4. It just isn't realistic.

I also got to go to Mustang Ridge and jump off the cliffs. This picture is of my favorite cliff in the world.



This picture was taken several years ago. That cliff no longer exists. It was smashed off the face of the earth. So now I have to settle for jumping off the next highest cliff. It's still fun and gets your blood pumping pretty good. I haven't been to the gorge since our latest kid was born and then we were in drought for years before that and these cliffs became SUPER high with the low water levels, so it's been a LOOOONG time since I've had this chance. Everyone says there are strict new rules about cliff jumping, something like you can't jump off anything over 12 feet high, but I think I should be grandfathered into higher cliff jumping rights because I've been doing it all my life. And those laws are only in place so big pussies don't have to make excuses for not jumping anyway.

I told my wife that as long as I am physically able to haul my carcass to the top of the cliffs and toss it off, I will continue to do so. She's glad the tallest cliff is gone.

It's been a good week.

I am a snake head eating the head on the opposite side

My son has a way with words. I hope that he gets it from me because it makes me laugh.

Ethan: "Here Olivia, I'll take the trash out of your monkey's ear."

(Translation: "I will remove the pricetag from your stuffed animal.")

So what if you can see the darker side of me

I've had an ongoing struggle with that 18 yr old guy from work. He tells me I'm the only person he can stand to be around. He says, "I'm an asshole, but this is the NICE me at work. I'm worse when I'm not here."

I tell him that he's an angry loner. And he says, "What's wrong with Angry Loners?"

And I say, "Well... they're angry. And they're loners..."

One night he pulled out a light-up keychain and said, "Check this thing out. It's cool."

I said, "Where did you get that?"

He said, "Walmart. Lastnight. At 3am."

I said, "Why were you at Walmart at 3 am?"

He said, "Because my life sucks. There is nothing to do." Later he explained it this way, "I'm 18 and I can't do anything except go to strip clubs." He is actually trying to spend his time doing worthwhile things but he can't figure anything out in that falls in that category. He doesn't want to spend all his time drinking like his friends and he already quit playing World of Warcraft.

I told him, "You really need to ask that girl out from the restaurant we go to for lunch."

Did I mention he hates girls? And kids? And pretty much everyone? But he especially hates girls. And kids. He sees them as financial death and endless nagging. It's hard to pose an argument against that. But he seems to be incapable of seeing an upside to hanging out with girls.

He asked, "Why would I want to do that?"

I said, "I don't know. Because you hang out at Walmart at 3 am FOR FUN. If you asked her out, she might at least hang out at Walmart with you."

I told him, "You two kind of look alike and they say people are often attracted to other people who have similar traits." I said, "You're both tall and skinny, you have the same kind of nose, you both seem to like wearing baseball hats..." (the girl has to wear a work hat)

He said, "We both have the same size of boobs."

I said, "So what about boobs?"

He said, "If a girl doesn't have boobs its like having sex with a man."

I said, "Don't worry about boobs. At some point in time, EVERY girl asks her boyfriend if he likes her boob-size. When she asks you that, you just say HERE ARE SOME PAMPHLETS YOU CAN READ ABOUT BREAST AUGMENTATION."

I told him that having a cool personality is much more important than boobs. He was just using boobs as an excuse. And I knew I was breaking through his shell when he asked me how much boob surgery costs. I told him that he should just ask her if she has seen "Clerks II" (one of his favorite movies) and if the answer was YES then he should ask her out.

But then he sprang back at me... "Why would people be attracted themselves? Would YOU want to have sex with someone who looked just like you?"

And I reminded him about that "Silence of the Lambs/Clerks II" line:

"I'd F*** me. I'd F*** me hard."

But then I told him that my features are much too masculine for me to ever pitch woo to my own twin.

Anyway. I'm still trying to get him to ask a girl out. So he won't be so angry. And alone.

Pnutz

I saw this on someone else's blog and thought it was worth copying.

Would you hold it against me?

I've been painting the ceiling at a big house all week. There is a girl who lives in the house who looks 16 but she's actually 21 and trying to become a nurse. I pretty much haven't talked to her at all until today...

Me: "Hey, if you were a booger I would pick you first."

Girl: "..."

Me: "Have you heard that line before?"

Girl: "No."

Me: "Is it doing anything for you?"

Girl: "Mmmm, not really."

Me: "A guy at work told me about that line lastnight. He said it works EVERY TIME."

Girl: "It's funny..."

Me: "Yeah. It actually sounds like a line that would work a lot better on a guy than a girl. I bet a guy would like that line. You should try it. But, then again, maybe not because that guy was giving me questionable advice on how to pick up girls."

Girl: "Like what?"

Me: "Well, he also told me it's best to pick up drunk girls. He said if you go up to a girl who's been drinking and ask her, 'what's your name?' and she answers, 'Huh?' then she's good to go. It might be good advice. I don't know. I probably wouldn't recommend doing that."



And just for all those people who freak out about it, YES! I TOLD HER I WAS MARRIED... but only after I used the line on her because I wanted her response to be genuine.

Use this advice at your own risk.

THE BLOG ISN'T LETTING ME LEAVE TITLES FOR SOME REASON. STUPID BLOG.

Lastweek I went to lunch with one of my fellow painters. The cashier asked me for a name so they could call me when my food was ready. I gave her the name Chase. She said, "What?" And as loudly and clearly as I could, I said Chase again. I watched her write it down: S-H-A-N-C-E. I don't think I have a speech impediment but I could be wrong.

I explained to the guy I was with that I give my last name, Chase, because it causes all sorts of problems when I try to leave my first name, Emmett.

Pretty soon, I heard an old man behind the counter calling a customer to come get their lunch. He yelled, "Shawn-say! SHAWN-SAY!"

I asked him, "Is it possible that that food is for Chase?"

The old man (who I believe was the owner of the restaurant) glared at the girl behind the cash register. He said, "Damn you, you had me over here thinking I was looking for a woman!"

I sure am glad I didn't try to give them my first name. I would probably be better off to revert to my teen-aged ways and leave names like Iceman, Uncle Fester or Monkmeyer.

Once I was in a fancy store and tried to leave the name Iacocca on a whim. Then the lady asked me to spell it and totally busted me. It's quite unconvincing when someone asks you to spell your name and you respond, "I...um...A...uh...C........I think."

I mentioned earlier that I have to do testing for a job I'm trying to get. I probably don't need to study but I am anyway because I want the job. After doing some studying I've found that I still rock at algebra. I do find little things that I never seemed to have learned before, like how to turn a repeating decimal into a fraction. So that's good.

The other part of the test is Reading Comprehension. I have to say that there isn't really a way to study Reading Comprehension. And, in my opinion, the questions they ask don't actually test your comprehension, rather, they test your ability to feign interest and hang on every word of a boring, boring story.

Here's an example:

Pretend I have just told you a long, tedious anecdote about a week I spent at my Aunt Alice's farmhouse last summer. Now answer these questions...


Q. What were the names of the four kittens living in the barn?
A. Ruffles, Whiskers, Socks and Puff Catty. Okay, that was an easy one.

Q. On what night were the cats fed fresh entrails?
A. Tuesday nights, because Aunt Alice makes fresh kidney pie to serve at the local VFW hall every Wednesday. Duh!

Q. What brand of tractor does uncle Remis use on the farm?
A. Trick question. Uncle Remis only uses mules.

Q. What day did Uncle Remis plan to harvest his crop?
A. Normally, it would be under September's full moon BUT THIS YEAR Mars would be in the night sky two days previous on the same weekend Remis Jr. would be in town, plus Uncle Remis was due for surgery on his bunyon on the night of the full moon, so the answer is... September 12.

What? You didn't absorb all of those details in the 5 minutes you were allotted to read about the most exciting week of my life? You don't care?!?! Sir, if this were the 1800's I would challenge you to pistols at dawn!

So boring. They could try to spice it up a little...

What satanic cult did Aunt Alice regularly attend?
Which visitor slept with the farmer's daughter?
Which organ did the farmer remove as punishment?

Reading Comprehension is more like a test of tolerance and one's ability to pretend to care.

Glistening white, triangular tooth, open up a can of tomato juice

I can't afford a monstrous playground for the kids to put in the backyard, but on the 4th of July we did buy them a tire swing to hang from our apricot tree. The ropes that came with the swing were short, so I bought an extra 12 feet of rope so we could hang the swing from a high branch.

When I got the swing all put together we had one of those rare moments where my wife is impressed with my abilities as a dude.

She asked, "Where did you learn how to tie these knots?"

And I got to give a manly response, "That's a rock climbing knot."

The sweet, innocent Utah-girl in my wife goaded her to ask, "You didn't learn that knot in the Boy Scouts?"

And I got to give the super-manly response, "No. I got kicked out of the Cub Scouts when I was a kid, remember?"

They said it was because I missed too many den meetings but I like to believe they kicked me out because I looked sooooooooooo bad.

I like what you've done with the place

We were painting an office building the other day:

Adam (my brother-in-law): "Have you been in the bathroom here? It's awesome."

Me: "Really? What's so great about it?"

Adam: "They have a toilet plunger and a can of air freshener... anything you can think of. They thought of everything."

Me: "Either that or they've just learned from experience."

So the people have spoken. Why is it so hard to find a stainless steel or jewel-encrusted plunger THAT WORKS?

Give me convenience or give me death

I am really sick of working all the time. My feet hurt. My neck hurts. I lay down anytime and anywhere that I can. Even in public.

It was Ethan's 7th birthday the other day. We bought him a Tiger Salamander whom he named Zonk. Don't even try to call it a lizard because Ethan will be quick to tell you that Zonk is an amphibian. Just like he goes around correcting his family on other daily misconceptions: "Mummies are NOT covered in Band Aids; they are covered in gauze."

We also took the kids downtown to the Kids Discovery Museum. That place totally sucks. There is nothing notably educational in the entire place. It's kind of like a big place you can take your kids to play with someone elses toys. The coolest thing in the entire place was a book that told you how to make paper airplanes. I'm sure that's a skill teachers love their students to possess. Not only that, but I sat down and it took me ten minutes to make one of the airplanes, because how would you write down the instructions to folding a paper airplane? I don't think any kid in the place could have done it. The best part of the museum was the first 5 seconds we were there when I actually thought there might be SOMETHING interesting inside. I was wrong. The second best thing about the museum was that there were plenty of places for me to lay down my weary body. The worst the about the museum: Kids. The second worse thing about the museum: Their parents.

We had to go through the entire museum, just to give it a fair chance that there might be something cool inside, and it took a long time. After that, we went to the mall food-court to get some lunch. When we were leaving the food-court I opened the door by pushing it with my back. Then I held it open with my back while I pulled our stroller through and then I held it so the rest of my family could come through. While I was holding the door open with my back, some lady wanted to go in through the door and she put her hand on the door while she waited.

When my family was out, I let the door go and walked away with my family. But the lady who had her hand on the door looked at me and spat, "YOU'RE WELCOME."

Apparently I only need to hold the door open for my family to leave a building for people to think I'm a jerk. When she said it, I thought of how satisfying it would feel to backhand her across the face. But I think that was just my impulse as a very tired person. Instead I walked off without any response and I told my wife, "I don't think I can be around people today."

Noting exciting has happened at work. A few different people told me stories about how money from their dead grandpas has ripped their families apart on account of people's willingness to get stupid and stubborn over money, so my earlier advice for people to get rich by waiting for their wealthy relatives to die may have been given in haste.

Maybe we should think of things like this:

The other night at work, one of the mofos came over to the table and said, "Wow! I put my dollar in that Coke machine and it gave me a Coke and then it gave me my dollar back."

One of the other mofos said, "I put my money in that machine earlier and it kept it and didn't give me a drink."

I said, "Uh oh. That Coke machine must run on KARMA. It gives you drinks and money based on what kind of a person you are."

And the second mofo said, "Damn! So that's why it took my money."

But he wasn't playing along with the joke. He said it as though he REALLY deserved to have his money taken.

Sometimes its not so easy to be the Teacher's Pet

The other day we decided to turn the beds in the boy's room back into bunk beds. We couldn't find two of the wooden dowels we needed so we headed to the local Big Box hardware store to buy a long, round stick so I could cut some new ones.

After we bought the wooden rod, we went nextdoor to the Big Box book store because I have a job thingy coming up where I have to take a timed algebra test and I wanted to buy a workbook so I could practice my math speed.

As we were heading out of the store we were walking past the tables in the center aisle where the bookstore puts all of the books they recommend to browsing customers.

I said, "I like this book. I like this book. I like this one. I like this one..." And I was tapping each of the books with the stick as if it was a 40 inch magic wand.

My wife snapped at me, "Would you knock it off? Put that stick away!"

Barely acknowledging her existence, I said, "No. Pointing at things with sticks is fun. I'm starting to think that the main reason that people become teachers is just so they can point at things with sticks."

At that moment, an old man who was looking at books on the table in front of me started busting up with laughter. I looked at him and realized he was laughing at my wife and I. It's one of those moments where you want to bow and say, "Thank you, thank you. I'm weird and annoying ALL OF THE TIME."

But if it wasn't for that old man then I wouldn't have realized I was being funny and I wouldn't have typed this. And it's important. Because a lot of my friends teach classes. And if they haven't felt the joy of pointing at things with sticks then they have been missing out in life and the emptiness might have continued forever, had I not said anything.

Laser pointers are so gay. Stick with the classics.

Wakey, Wakey

This is why it isn't fun to wake me up in the morning. It's the price my wife pays for staying home all summer.

This morning my wife tried to wake me up. I told her I wouldn't get out of bed until I knew which house I was painting today. She went and called her dad on the phone and then she came back to get me.

Eleanor: "I know where you're painting today...

...

...

Okay, Pop!"

Me: "Okay, Mop!"

Eleanor: "Did you just call me Mop?"

Me: "Did you just call me Pop?"

Eleanor: "I was saying you should POP out of bed."

Me: "I was saying you should go MOP the kitchen..."

Brother from another mother

Doing this painting job in the daytime has given me time to hang out with my wife's little brothers. It's nice to hang out in a crowd that isn't going to accuse me of being immature.

At lunch the other day I was asking her brother, Eric, if he was saving any money this summer. I asked, "...Or are you spending it all on your X-Box?"

Eric said, "I haven't really saved any money. But me and Adam (the younger brother) bought our X-Box TOGETHER. And he actually paid for most of it."

And this line of questioning brought the details of their financial situation to light. I recapped the situation to Eric, "...So Adam paid for MOST of the X-Box, buys ALL of your games, puts MOST of the gas in the car you share AND has MORE money in the bank than you?"

Eric stared at me but didn't respond. I continued, "And he gave you his tomato so you could put it on your sandwich and then you COMPLAINED about it ("There's KETCHUP on this tomato!"). You should be ashamed. Taking advantage of your little brother."

It probably doesn't read funny but Adam had several bursts of laughter over the next couple of minutes over that conversation. A small reward for being generous. Later that night, my wife was talking to her sister. Her sister is debating whether or not she would like to marry her boyfriend. The sister said, "There are just a lot of weird things about my boyfriend. Sometimes he embarrasses me."

To which my adoring wife responded, "LOOK WHO I MARRIED."

My wife told me that Eric jumped into the conversation at that point, saying, "I'm glad you married Emmett." And then he related the "tomato" story to her. Apparently he likes it when people keep him in check.

My wife's cousin also paints with us. He is entertaining. He's one of THOSE kids. For instance, we were leaving the restaurant and we all got refills on our drinks. I guess there is some new health code where they just give you a whole new cup instead of refilling the one you already have. Adam told the cousin, Daniel, "Take the straw out of your old drink and put it in your new drink."

Daniel became defensive, "Duh, Adam! I'm not stupid... oh shoot! I just accidentally threw my straw away." He threw the straw away WHILE he said it. It's funny hanging out with him.

I've been calling Daniel "Pig-Pen," because he wears the same clothes to work everyday and the clothes are completely saturated with drywall dust. Daniel sat on the black leather seats in my car for two seconds and then stood up again the seat was almost completely white. At lunch today, daniel coughed and a giant cloud of white dust billowed up from his shoulder. I just said, "See. You're Pig-Pen."

Yesterday morning, the shop that sells us all of our paint was having a free breakfast for all of the contractors they sell to. For some reason my father-in-law really wanted me to go so I had to wake up an hour earlier than usual to eat with the crew.

While we were eating, Daniel dropped his toast. He said, "Whoa. That's weird. I just dropped my toast facedown on my lap and it didn't even get any jam on my pants."

I said, "That's because your pants are so dusty that it's impossible for them to get any dirtier. You dropped your toast on them and all you did was get the jam dirty."

Maybe it's only funny to me. That's okay.

Where it's too cold to swim and too hot to ski

Here is a glimpse of our lazy Sunday.

It's always funny until someone gets hurt... Here is a good example of my annoying laugh. I don't even notice until I hear myself on camera.

Why use a wagon when you have a perfectly good sled handy?



My wife thought she was taking a picture of me. Nope. It's a movie.

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

This blogging thing was a lot easier when I got paid to be bored out of my skull on the internet all day and all week.

It's summer now. Which means the grass is tall and green and my cherry tree is full of bugs and birds. Summer also means that my wife, who works for the local school district, gets laid off for the season. Having a wife who was made redundant means that I get to double my pleasure by working two jobs. I wake up, paint in the morning, move furniture at night, then I fall asleep. Then I do it all again. And again. So I just finished a long week of nonstop work and the first thing my family tells me when I'm finally home for a few minutes is that the computer is broken.

Don't expect much from the blog because it will be like this for months. This also means that I'll have very little time to take trivial things and rant about them like there is some profound meaning to it all. I expect most of my posts will just be a review of my week. But maybe not, because one of the most difficult things for me to do is tell you the difference between yesterday and the day before. It's all a blur.

At work, the basketball hoop is busted so we can't play. There was a guy at work that bragged about being an undefeated chess player and a chess club alumni and tried to force everyone into a game so he could school them. Then he challenged me to a game. I haven't played chess in over ten years and he beat me fast with a move that I accused him of learning from a book. Then I beat him by modifying his move a little. He said I was lucky so we played again and I totally gave his king an atomic wedgie. He got so mad that I beat him again that he got up and stormed out of the room. While he was walking away, I cleaned up the chess board and yelled at him, "I'd better not hear you telling people you're undefeated anymore!" He didn't talk to me for a few days.

Then I played foosball and I've won more games than I've lost but it's not the same without basketball. Without basketball, I realize how pointless the job is and I'm working on switching employment soon. But one endless source of entertainment is that one guy, Zack Morris with a Lobotomy.

Chad (of Jamming With Chad fame) came up to me and said, "Did I tell you about my idea for a reality television show? It could be about this entire warehouse and all the crazy stuff that happens here but mostly it would just be to follow around Zack Morris with a Lobotomy all day."

I said, "The thing is, that show would be really funny for a few episodes but after a while it would just get depressing. It would get to the point where everyone is sitting around thinking CAN'T THIS GUY EVER WIN? Just like in real life."

One story I forgot to tell about him was how he once overheard the bosses talking about pornography. They told him that if you started looking at internet pornography you would end up online for a long period of time. He told them he didn't understand why and that he didn't believe them.

Feeling secure in his mormon righteousness, he came back to work a few days later and admitted to the bosses, "You guys were right. I went on the internet and did a search for pornography and I ended up looking at it for 3 hours!"

The mofos gave him a hard time about it, "3 hours? Geez, Zack! Why didn't you just touch yourself and get it over with?"

Zack said, "I don't do that. That's sick."

The mofos went on, "I can't believe you wasted 3 HOURS looking at porn."

And in a poorly worded attempt to tell the crowd how he finally turned off the computer in disgust, he said, "I looked at it for 3 hours but then some gay stuff came up and I got off on that."

Laugh. Riot.

He also had another of many fender benders in his car. One of the mofos asked him, "Did you SPRAY PAINT the grill of your car, Zack?"

Zack's response, "Yes. But it's not noticable."

And Zack is practically a Jedi so the mofo went off mumbling to himself, "Then why did I ask?" Everytime Zack has a fender bender, he starts the story by saying, "I have the WORST luck."

The funniest thing I saw all week was when that mofo who likes to listen to police scanners (let's call him Escobar) was giving Zack a bunch of crap because Zack lied on a recent job application. Zack wants more out of life and has been applying for a lot of other jobs. Zack applied for a position at a retail store but he has been frustrated by the lack of interviews he's received considering how many places he's applied. So at this particular store, Zack wrote on his application that he holds a 4-year degree in Computer Science. Of course the store called him up and interviewed him right away and he was forced to do a lot of back-paddling and finally admit that he only took a couple of computer courses in high school and that he does not have a 4-year degree. I don't believe a second interview will be forthcoming.

So in the process of razzing Zack about lying about his education, Escobar breaks into a full on imitation of Zack in a job interview. In my opinion, the hieght of the performance was when he said, "Would you like to hear about my accomplishments? Good! Get ready for an ear-full because I never shut the f*** up!"

It's probably funnier if you know the guys and if you are aware of how often people unsuccessfully beg Zack to shut up. I would love to hear someone use that line in an actual interview though. I felt bad laughing so hard right in front of Zack at his expense. But he's a good sport about it. And he doesn't ever shut up. And he lied on his application.

One night, I came home from work and I pulled my car into my driveway. I liked the song that was playing so I listened to the end of the song. It was a good CD so I listened to the next couple of songs as well. I saw my neighbors dogs in the next yard and I saw the owner lurking around in the shadows but I didn't think anything of it.

When I got out of my car to go to the house my neighbor started yelling at me at the top of her lungs. "What kind of a person would listen to their music outside my bedroom window at 1 a.m.! Why would you do that!"

If it was daytime, the conversation would have been MUCH different. This lady has NEVER talked to me but she did come over at yell at my sister the first month we moved into the new house.

Since it was the dead of night, I just said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was bothering you." I don't have a subwoofer in my car or anything and I certainly don't know where her bedroom is located but I wasn't about to start that conversation with her.

But the batty lady just kept yelling, "I have to be awake in 3 hours and now I'm wide awake!"

I said, "Sorry." Again. For good measure. I get the feeling she was wide awake well before I got home and that she was bored. Very. Bored. And I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it was very difficult for me to resist the temptation of pointing out the irony that she was in the darkness of her backyard screaming at me AS LOUD AS SHE COULD about what a jerk I am for not respecting people who are trying to sleep.

At this point my ears still weren't dripping blood, so she continued, "But why would I expect YOU to notice. YOU don't even notice when your own dog is barking!" For the record, her dogs are twice as loud as my dog. When I hear my dog bark, I go outside to tell her to quiet down but I don't tell her to quiet down when weirdos and mexicans are climbing around on my back fence. That's her job as a dog. I regret nothing.

I could tell that the neighbor was not interested in making peace and I have a strict policy of not arguing with people unless some good can come of it. This lady obviously just wanted an audience and nothing I could say would ever appease her. So I walked away and went to bed with her out in the night, still yelling at me.

I started painting with my in-laws as a daytime job. Painting houses for wealthy people. My father-in-law is easy on me as a boss. It's been good so far. It made me feel better about life. I went to work to find the richies eating bagles and cream cheese for breakfast just like I eat. They have the same chairs in their kitchen as we do. Their boys have the same bunk beds that our boys have. And my kids are better than their kids.

These people try to be super-parents. Almost to a smothering extent. The kids go to private school, they take swimming, piano AND guitar lessons. Even though school is out, their parents make them have two hours of "school" everyday. But every solitary second that the kids can get away, they go and play video games.

One of the boys was supposed to be reading for "school" but his mother told him to go practice the guitar. His father came in and lost his cool. He yelled at his son, "What are you doing! You're supposed to be reading! This is your future! YOUR FUTURE!" But the dad can loosen up. He came out and played tennis on their Nintendo Wii for a little while. Until he ended up punching his 6-yr-old daughter in the face and giving her a gushing nose-bleed.

There is stuff about U.S. presidents everywhere in the house. I was getting the boy's bedroom ready for paint and he had a strange assortment of videos on his dresser, including "Great Generals of the South." I asked the 8-yr-old, "Have you watched this movie? Great Generals of the South?" And he looked at me as if I was the craziest person alive. "No."

The mother is odd. Overall, she's a mormon-stepford-mom but she really is a pretty nice lady. Obviously a trophy wife but she still has a good head on her shoulders. I met her briefly on my first day of work in her house. She saw me on the second day of work. I thought she was going to ignore me but she suddenly turned and said, "Hi. Are you behaving?"

Am I behaving?

A million answers ran through my mind and all of them seemed inappropriate. That's the kind of question I might expect to hear at a parole hearing but it was very strange as an ice breaker with a professional acquaintance. I just said, "Yes."

I told my brother about it at lunch and he laughed. He said, "When we go back you can tell her you ate all your brocolli all by yourself."

My daughter also had a dance recital this week:



I was busy working so I couldn't go, but I went to the rehearsal and that was pretty good. It's kind of fun to watch them do it with the mistakes and then have the instructors say, "Do it again."

This time they had a boy dancer with a solo performance. He's a boy. A dancing boy. So in contrast to ballerina girls in wispy dresses that don't conceal their nipples, the boy was wearing a loose spandex suit of black with red slash marks all over it. Like he had been clawed by a giant animal. He did an aggressive dance to a classic song, "In the hall of the mountain king." But classical music is sissy so they toughened it up by playing it on buzzy guitars.

None of the dancers are perfect. Most of the time you feel like you could dance as good as they, but you're probably wrong. Anyway, I believe the best way to describe the boy's dance would be: COURAGEOUS.

I like these recitals though. I've been watching girls I have never met give their all in these dance recitals for two years now. I feel like I know them but they would probably yell at me "Get away, Creep!" if I ever tried to talk to them if I bumped into them at Target. Oh well.

So I finally got a day off today. I fixed the computer and took things easy. It was nice not to have any obligations for a few hours. We played with the kids for a long time in the backyard. I posted some videos on Youtube but they are slow at "processing" them so I can enter them here.

I'll put them up later. When next we meet.