Panhandling In A Debit Card Age

I stopped at Peets this week, after dropping the kids off at a nearby class they attend, and as I parked the car to the side of the entrance, I saw the telltale signs of somebody about to ask me for spare change. There was a shopping cart filled with belongings and covered with a tarp, behind which protruded a set of legs wearing tattered shoes.

I was in a rush (when am I not these days) and I'd already opted to put my Peets gift card in my pocket in lieu of carrying in my entire wallet. So when I walked passed him I didn't have any cash on hand in the first place.

From beneath a weathered, broad-rimmed hat and behind a think and tattered white beard, came the voice from the bench, "Do you have any spare change, sir?"

An Unwanted Photo in My Wallet

I put a photo of my daughter into my wallet this week, and it's probably one of the more upsetting things I've had to do as a parent. I carry photos of the kids on my Treo, which is far more convenient, and I also carry a very thin wallet and have for many years. Just like my keychain, which has only two keys on it, my wallet only has the absolute necessities and not a bunch of fluff and extra crap.

Adding her photo to my wallet, and it's subsequent impact to it's bulk, is not the upsetting thing. Nor is the photo, which I think, naturally, is beautiful. But the fact that I even need to do so, and the details on the card upon which her photo rests, are what make me cringe, and almost retch, at it's mere existence. The photo is on a 'missing kids' emergency card, something I should carry in the event she were to disappear.

When my wife handed me the card, I first saw her photo and started to smile, thinking it was some school related 'I love my Daddy' thing, but in the next instance I saw the missing kids information and instructions, and my stomach turned.

As it must be for any parent, just the thought, just the idea, that my son or daughter would be at risk for abuse or worse, is beyond comprehension to me. What the hell has become of our society that such occurrences are common place enough to warrant such steps?

I'll try and keep a balance here, as stat's show a decrease in abductions and more awareness might be a strong reason. ANd I'll migrate the info onto my Treo to thin out the wallet. Also, in accordance with the appropriate practices, i'll make an more concerted effort to ensure we have all the necessary measures in place to protect them and ensure they know or carry essential 'if lost, please return' related details on them at all times. But that I even have to concern myself with an intentional abduction is incredibly disturbing. As are the things I'd do to anybody I got my hands on that tried to harm them... let's just say that the 'curb' scene in the opening of "American History X" will be of inspiration.

BTW: in the event you care to become involved in aiding with missing kids, you can opt in to receive Wireless AMBER Alerts as text messages on your cell phone. This free public service is offered in partnership by The Wireless Foundation, the membership of CTIA-The Wireless Association® and the U.S. Department of Justice to deliver AMBER Alerts. Sign up now at www.wirelessamberalerts.org or through a participating wireless carrier.

I Live In A Night Gallery House

Alright.... I've reached a conclusion. After multiple rat encounters, consistently finding gnawed remains of fallen fruit littering our yard, and after watching gophers randomly popping up and leaving burrowed mounds of dirt for my kids to stumble over, I'm convinced we're living in a house straight out of 'the Night Gallery'. Hell, even the plants around this place have this 'finger-bone' appearance, as if they're poised and waiting to come to live and clutch my ankle.



Tonight, while bathing the kids, my son noticed something floating in the tub, which he pulled out and I identified as a spider's leg. Sure, that's no big deal, however, earlier today, after buckling my son into my car for a series of quick errands, I turned back to talk to him and a bright yellow and black object, about 2" in diameter, caught my eye. It was hanging from the passenger side window, inside of my car. It was a freakishly large and ornate spider in comparison to the type one typically encounters . It was another one of those moments around this place that i just thought "I'm living in a spook house".



I grabbed a used cup from the back seat and remove it, did the necessary legwork to identify it as a Argiope aurantia, and then, with the kids eagerly following with flashlights, we set it free. If it shows up in the house or back in the car, I'm either moving, or calling Wes Craven with a script idea.

Remembering Nicole

As you may be aware from earlier posts, my mother-in-law passed away shortly before Christmas. Back in 2005, on her 70th birthday, my wife and I worked on a movie that captured her life from infancy to adulthood and we 'screened it' at a party for her. It brought tears to her eyes, and to some of ours as well. With her sudden passing, we thought it would be nice to update it, and play it prior to her burial. I've also pressed a DVD version for all of the family, and i've posted a web version online.

Making Lemonade From Backed Up Plumbing

I think we’ve had a hard enough week already. A sudden death with suspicious medical associations has pretty much derailed the entire family. Yet we are trying to move forward with the plans for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, hosted at our home. Our home, which, at 10am, decided to stop draining from the kitchen sink and laundry room, flooding the area and further derailing things. ARRRRRGGHH.

BUT following the frustration and exasperation over the bad timing, my wife reminded me it could be worse, and it definitely could. So a plumber is en route, and in the mean time the kids are having a complete blast pretending to be plumbers, entertaining me while I quickly document, for posterity, how the universe actually is against me.

“I’m trying Ringo…. I’m tryin’ real hard, to be the shepherd.” ;-)

Psycho Santa, Qu’est-ce que c’est?

The holiday season is upon us, which means my annual viewing of 'A Christmas Story' and all the memories that accompany it. Although I was born in LA and the decade was much later, I spent 4 years in rural Pennsylvania, from the age of 8-12. We lived in a very small town, in which I'd walk to school through cornfields, pull a wagon filled with newspapers on a paper route, and of course, play in the snow at Christmas time.



Many of the scenes and scenarios portrayed in the movie are reminiscent of my own childhood (although I never accepted a triple-dog-dare at the frozen volleyball post) and it always brings a sense of longing and nostalgia for 'a simpler time'. Heck, I even got to have my picture taken with a disgruntled Santa Claus.




(Psycho Santa, Qu'est-ce que c'est? Fa la la la, la la. Fa la la la, la la.)

Adieu et Merci

As Thanksgiving approached this year, my wife called me at work and said that her mother wanted to stay with us for about a week following the holiday. It was without hesitation that I said yes. Her visits are always good ones, with each one better then the last. It seemed that, since the birth of our twins, she and I grew closer and closer. We crossed the line of 'in-law' and I truly felt like one of her own children. 3 months after their birth, when she'd spent every Monday through Friday at our house helping out, my wife and I were discussing some way to thank her, and our immediate idea was to append her name to that of our daughter's, which we did, much to her and our delight.



When she was preparing to leave after this visit last week, I looked at her and felt a great deal of gratitude for the mother in law she is, and the grandmother as well. I resisted the usual compliment/joke interchange, and simply looked at her, paused, and said with all sincerity, that her presence was always a joy, that I and the kids loved her visits, and that she was welcome at any time.



She passed away Monday from a massive heart attack. The shock is still setting in, as I've been consumed with watching the kids while my wife is with her family, and I've not had a great deal of time to absorb it all. There's a great deal of thoughts and emotions through all of this that I fully intend to write about when the dust settles, along with the reality of this very sad occurrence.



A brief observation was relayed to me this week. The answer to the question 'why do people have to die' is that without death, and the uncertainty of it's timing, we'd likely not make the most of each day, and not treasure the value of somebody's presence.



I did hers, and it will most certainly be missed, but never forgotten.

Off The Elf Clothing Choices

I've seen several people this week, both out and about, and at work, wearing Santa hats. Holy crap... is it Christmas time already?!? I had no idea :-/. Now, I don't quite know if I'm just too 'Scrooged' to go with the flow, but it seems a little weird. It's another one of those things that I see people do, and have to wonder if they're so filled with the spirit of the season that it blindly dictates their wardrobe choices, or are they just looking for some attention? Well, who am I to talk, all of my clothes came from the costume rejects for 'That 70s Show'. Regardless, I like that you want to promote the holiday, but if you're at the office, don't expect to be taken seriously if you look like an escapee from the island of misfit toys, and if you're working the counter somewhere, merry christmas already.... now please make my egg-nog latte, OK Hermie?

Five Creature Comforts

A good friend recently went through a long home-remodeling. As we discussed it, he shared that he and his wife had kept a little list of the things they did not have during their stay in a rental house, or just in general, that they really missed or wanted in the new dwelling. Things like a dishwasher, a decent garbage can... things they recognized as being useful and convenient by not having them for a while.

I thought this was really entertaining and interesting because it got me thinking about all the little creature comforts that one finds, embraces, and ultimately integrates so into their daily lives that they forget how great they are, until they're taken away by circumstance.

I wanted to share my own list and I want to ask you for yours. I want to get the 5 things you consider creature comforts that you would most miss were you to have to give them up. Feel free to use the comments section of this post to append your own thoughts.

RULES: Give it some serious thought, and please, be reasonable. Don't say 'my job' or 'my wife' or 'the roof on the house' or 'heat'; stay in the realm of realistic and probable. For example, Don't say 'TV' or 'Hot and Cold Running Water'; but you could choose 'TiVo' or 'Filtered Water in the refrigerator door' if that's something you have had and would or do really miss the convenience of.

My Favorite Creature Comforts:

• TiVo


• A Debit Card


• My Treo PDA


• Wireless Networking


• A Telephone Answering Machine

Those Who Cannot Remember The Past...

Last year I posted an entry reflecting on the anniversary of the murder of John Lennon being today. This day still brings those feelings to mind with the same intensity, and in addition, I've used some late night cycles this week to watch the History Channel's documentary on Pearl Harbor, which was bombed 65 years ago on 12/07.



The history and stories are riviting. It's fascinating. It's more moving and dramatic then any work of fiction can capture. I visited the memorial many years ago and was very moved by the video we were shown prior to the trip to the monument. And yet it's also amazing to have lived through 9/11, to have a war taking place today, and to watch a production in which survivors, both US and Japanese, discuss their relative roles and experiences in the attack, including their own surprise at deceptions under which they operated and took action. It reflects the tone set in "The Fog Of War", on how time 'heals' wounds as well as changes perspectives and beliefs.



It makes me wonder, in 2046, will people involved in the acts of terrorism and war today, be looking back and commenting on their actions with a more educated and humane point of view? And yet, as they do, what might be the political climate and battles being fought at that time?



Ultimately, George Santayana's words echo in my thoughts.... "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it".

Another Year, Another Rat Tale

The timing of the events of my morning could not be more ironic. Last year, around this same time, I posted a humorous and true story on this website, and over the course of the past week or two, i've been drafting a followup entry that details 'Part II' of that event. Something happened a day or two later last year, which was a continuation of that event, and I thought it'd be fun to finally relate that story this year.



Fate, however, chose to throw 'Part III' into my path this morning. Part II will have to wait.



The morning started out relatively normal, with the modest exception of my being the one to take our son to preschool instead of my wife, who was taking our daughter elsewhere. She left at 8am, apparently without 'exposure' to what I encountered 45 minutes later, when I (fortunately) opted to 'pre-load' my car with my belongings instead of doing so once I had my son in the car. I instructed him to wait in the house while I walked to the car with my briefcase, a bag of some miscellaneous things I needed for the day, A CD of kids music for the drive, and some outgoing mail. Once I dropped everything else in the car ,I walked to the mailbox, but tripped slightly along the way.



We have a Magnolia tree in our front yard, and the 'pods' it drops litter our yard and driveway. They're annoying as hell but my occasionally stepping on them and tripping over them is a part of a daily routine. When I tripped on the way to the mailbox I assumed, in that moment, I'd done just that. It was only when I glanced back over my shoulder, as I continued towards the mailbox, that I realize what I had stumbled over. It was enough of a shock to cause me to stop in my tracks, turn in disbelieve, and audibly but unconsciously utter 'No Fucking Way!' It wasn't a Magnolia pod I'd tripped on, it was a rat. A big, fat, dead, ugly rat.



As I'd mentioned earlier, if you've not already read my post from last year, now is the time to do it. So, go here, read the first post, and come back when you're done. I'll wait here... and this rat's not going anywhere either :-/.



Standing in the driveway, outgoing mail in one hand and my mouth gaping open in surprise, the first thing that came to mind was 'it must be seasonal'. Maybe every year the neighborhood cats get together and drop off a Christmas Rat to each of the houses. The next things that came to mind, and remains there, is...

My wife must not have seen it, because I definitely would have heard the scream 

Thank god I came out without my son, who's fascination would have been a serious 'containment issue'.

Last year, there were two. So where's the other one?

What would have happened if this was in the backyard and the kids found it, not me?

WHY is it dead in the first place?

Given that we live near water and lots of open land, it's certainly not surprising to know that there's rats around. I can deal with that. And the kids are wise enough now that I'd not expect them to run after a live one or touch a dead one. Even last year, when my son found the 'black bug', he came to me without touching it. But stepping on and tripping over a dead one in the driveway is a bit disturbing.



How I missed seeing it when I walked out is beyond me. Clearly, my attention was on the car and not on the driveway, but something about it's having been grey and white, blending transparently into the grey and white asphalt, makes me suspect that nature has played it's part in their adapting to their environment, much like the tree frogs of the rain forest. Either way, it was either beneath or blocked from my wife's view, which explains the lack of shrieking earlier.



As I stood there, the car running, my son waiting in the house, and the feet of a dead rat I'd just stumbled over pointing skyward in front of me, I had no time to do anything but act. I put the mail in the mailbox, walked around to the side of the house where a spade shovel was leaning against the garage, smoking a stogie and awaiting it's 'rat removal' task. I took it to the driveway and started working it beneath the carcass.



Not to give too much detail, but seeing as this seldom happens, I wanted to capture the experience in writing. It's odd, but even when believing it was dead, it appeared 'fresh' and recent, so I had this inner dialog and visions in my head from numerous horror films and such, of finding out, just as I assume all is 'calm', that the thing suddenly jumps to life, squeals, and attacks. As I slid the edge of the shovel beneath it's still body, it rocked momentarily from the force, and came to a teetering rest atop the flat blade of the shovel. Then, as I began to rise, the weight on the end of the handle shifted, the rat quickly turned over, it's long yellow teeth visible, it's limbs scrambling across the rusted metal, it's eyes red and blazing with fury and terror! It launched itself from it's air-borne elevation, it's claws thrashing in the air as it bounded directly towards my chest!!!



-SHUDDER-



I pulled my mind back into reality, and after several failed attempts, I managed to position the lifeless body of the rodent formally known as BEN onto the shovel. I walked back towards the garbage can, one eye fixated on the rodent in order to ensure no surprise attack really awaited me, and the other eye wildly scanning the surrounding grounds for the any others waiting to jump me from the sidelines.



Once I made it to the garbage can, I started to realize that, being Friday, the next garbage pickup was still 4 days away, and the last thing I wanted to have was this thing, lying out in the open, decaying, smelling and possibly drawing other carnivorous animals to it's scent. I had to bag 'em and tag 'em. I had to put him into something sealed.



I set the shovel down, sternly stated "STAY" while pointing at ratty, and went inside. I checked on my son, who was still waiting patiently, grabbed a zip-lock bag, and returned to the shovel. Once there, I found the shovel empty!! The rat had departed!! Above me, along the fence, I caught sight of a small procession of family members carrying him away, taking slow pauses between steps, one feminine looking rat trailing behind them, wearing a black arm band and sniffling occasionally.



-SHUDDER-



Snapping back into the moment, I found the rat still in it's place. I put the bag over the shovel and slid him into it, then zipped the cover closed, bypassing my usual habit of inhaling the air from the bag in order to ensure a longer duration of freshness, I placed him into a bag within the garbage, closed it, put the shovel back, washed my hands, got my son in the car.



By then, the 'shock' had worn off, the 'dirty work' had been done, and this entry had started to form in my mind. And unlike the last time around, this time I had my phone on me, which happens to have a camera. As 'gross' as it might seem, I wanted evidence of this whole fiasco. Now, I'm far from the creepy neighbor who practices taxidermy in his shed on the weekends, i just figured I'd snap a quick photo for the record books. Not wanting to upset any reader, I won't embedded it as a photo on this post but if you want to see the proof, click here.



I've since called and warned my wife, who understandably fears for the kids having any unexpected encounters. I remain convinced they'd respond properly if they'd found it, far more then, say, a pet dog or cat would. But in our upcoming search for a new home, I'm sure the distance from water and open fields will play into the decision process!

Armbanned

My wife wanted and has received, early, a new iPod Nano for her Christmas present. She can now be found shuffling through the kitchen to 'Green Day', and it's great to know that she has something to strap to her arm at the gym or around the house, helping to trim down the background noise of twins. (For those curious, it's a 4gig Product(red) one, and I'm already kicking myself for not going 8gig... what was I thinking...I always get the highest capacity but this time around something went wrong in my brain.

Yet there was one more item needed to complete the package.

Knowing that she'd want to take the new Nano to the gym, I walked over to the company store we have on campus, and I found, in the back clearance area, that they had a slew of Apple iPod Nano armbands marked down from $29 to only $9.99. Plus, they had a selection of red, pink, green, blue and silver, which ironically matches, quite well, the colors of the current models.

I asked at the counter if these were compatible with the new aluminum iPods, and got a tentative, hesitant, 'uh... no, no... you need the NEW one'; pointing me to the display of Apple iPod Nano armbands. They're white, priced at $29, and look exactly the same as those in colors and selling for $10. So I thought I'd investigate further.

There's ONE minor difference; the hole for the headset in the 1st gen model is closed, while the new one is an open notch as if they'd just clipped the side of the older version with a small pair of scissors like you'd find on a little Victorinox keychain pocketknife. But beyond that, they're identical. And the new armbands are only available in white, which is odd. The older Nano's were white or black while their armbands were colored, and now the Nano's come in colors and the armband is white. :-/

I took one of each back to the counter and pressed a bit further. "These look identical... won't the current Nano work fine in these?" I asked. The response was, with a little annoyance, that no, a new Nano needs the new armband. I cut them a great deal of slack... I can't imagine the agony of having to deal with the typical geek engineer questions for 8 hours a day. "But look, they're identical," I said in response, at which point the person at the counter just flatly said, "it's up to you if you want to try it".

I took a moment, and took a chance, and bought the old version armband, in red, and returned to my office. When the new 'Product (red)' iPod arrived yesterday, I took out the armband, inserted the iPod into it, and it fit perfectly! Oh, and regarding the issue with the closed hole vs the notch... I just clipped the side of the older version with the small pair of scissors on my little Victorinox keychain pocketknife.

I have to say that, although I understand the staff at the counter need to 'walk the party line' in respect to selling off clearance items vs selling something new, it still seemed a little 'underhanded' to not just be straight up about the compatibility. I mean, one look and you can see it's the same friggin' thing. But to be fair, this was not one of the usual folks at the counter that know me by name, and I don't really think it was intentional deception. Still, I will probably drop in later today when I'm over that way and mention to them that it does work, just in case they want to at least be able to tell the other employee's that ask.

And in case you own a Nano, new or old, and you want an armband.... you know where to go, or who to contact :-)

Homebound Deterrent

For the benefit of moms out there, allow me to just make a brief point of giving you some 'fatherly' advice. 'Fatherly', that is, from the perspective of the man with whom you've had children, not your own father.

The advice? When phoning him at the office, in the middle of pleasantly cajoling him into leaving work as early as possible in order to return to the bosom of his waiting family, avoid making a side comment to your son regarding the fact that you smell fresh poop in his pants. Avoid it. That is what we call, in "the Land of Dadhood", a deterrent. Again.... that's "a Deterrent".

Just a thought. Meanwhile, if you like the image used on this post check out wrybaby.

I Hab A Code

Although I thought I'd dodged it from work and home exposure, the delayed effect, or somebody's germ-laddened hand having been thrust into my own without ample opportunity to explain away my aversion to shaking hands, has exposed me to a head cold. Late Sunday evening, the scratchy throat began to set in, and today, the sounds I'm making have brought a gaggle of geese to our home, seeking companionship. In addition, throughout the day, my impersonation of a longshoreman gearing up for the final round in a tobacco spitting contest could easily intimidate any grizzled east-coast seafaring challenger.... arrrrrh matey.



What's even worse is the kids are showing modest signs as well, which really makes for a pleasant week ahead.



Oh well, best to get it out of the way before the holidays, right?

El Ladrón Del Teléfono

When things go missing, they typically turn up shortly after. That's the way it works in our lives, and in the chaos of twins. We're typically multitasking from the moment we're awakened through the time we put the kids to bed, which means that things you have in your hand at one moment don't always get to their destination as planned. TV Remotes, keys, cellphones, documents... these all end up being displaced for a brief period of time, and are usually, ultimately recovered hours or days later.

Usually. But not this time.



When my wife said she could not find her phone a month or two back, it was par for the course. It's not unusual for either of us to struggle to find things. I found it for her after checking a few spots... I believe it was at the bottom of one of the many diaper bags we still tote around. She was getting into her car with the kids and I handed it to her. That was the last either of us saw if it. and a day later she realized she could not find it again.

I didn't panic, as it's always been a matter of time, and even a month later, though it'd not resurfaced, I expected I'd stumble across it under a car seat, in a shoe drawer, under a cushion or in the kids playhouse, with a hefty rate of international toll charges racked up with calls placed to the north pole.

I was close on one thing... the international toll charges.

While glancing at the bill this weekend, my wife said, almost matter-of-factly, 'somebody has my phone'. It turns out that, a day or two after it's disappearance, 7 or 8 calls were made to El Salvador, racking up charges until, apparently, the battery died, as the calls ceased at that point. Somewhere between our driveway and her travels, it landed on the ground, where it was picked up and used as much as possible before going dead.

We have the phone nbrs in El Salvador, I'm tempted to call, just on the odd chance that I might reach somebody that speaks english and can explain to me why somebody who found a phone and could make unlimited calls would only use it until the battery died, when every target store carries chargers for less then $10.

Well, whatever the case, this'll be something to consider the next time something goes missing and we just assume it'll show up at the house.

Potty Talk in the Workplace

In the interest of a laugh, i'm gonna take things down a level, maybe two or three actually... i'm gonna do some bathroom humor.. i'll try to return to higher class posts, political rants, obscure observations and personal reminiscence shortly.

Yesterday, I observed what I like to refer to as a 'shit-n-run' incident in one of the office bathrooms, where a 'visitor' exited a stall and then the restroom with nary a moments pause at the sink along the way. And earlier that same day there was evidence of a, uh, 'log jam' in one of the facilities as well. This has made me pause and reflect on my own phobias, habits and practices in respect to usage of the office, and pretty much any public, lavatories. My own obsessive - compusive nature requires some guidelines and routines in various situations one may encounter, including restroom usage. And I expect you are either equally aware and conscious of these points as well, or if not, you'll not be able to enter a facility again without at least one of these edicts coming to mind. So without any further fanfare, here are the key points and practices I recommend one consider at the workplace:

1. Always use a stall, regardless of the need to sit or stand. Why? In a nutshell, when walking up besides somebody standing at a urinal in an open space only 18 inches away, I've taken one too many unexpected bites from their freshly baked air-bisquit, and this seems the most effective way to avoid an involuntary intake.


2. Ensure that there is an ample supply of paper available to you prior to engaging in any functions that might prohibit you from moving to another stall. And don't make the mistake of including a tattered news paper left by a prior occupant as an option. (Unless the section happens to contain a photo and story about our president or a 'crap artist', at which point, it's all about freedom of expression from there on).


3. When at the office and wearing a badge on a belt loop, always check it's orientation when you're about to be in the seated position for any duration of time, and turn the name and photo side towards yourself. You'd rather not be recognized later by the guy that sat in the stall next to you during an extended acoustic performance.


4. Always stand, buckle, and prepare to leave before flushing. Anybody's that ever had to scramble from an overflowing bowl with their pants around their ankles can understand this one.


5. ALWAYS wash your hands before leaving. There's nothing more disgusting then when you observe a co-worker who's hands you've shaken or high-fived in the past, or who's passed you a soda or drinking cup recently, beeline from the stall to the door without pausing to cleanse. Eck.