I believe this is one of those small moments that makes life taste like a fine Italian pasta with homemade Italian sauce and all those fancy Italian herbs instead of Kroger brand $.99 "Cheesy Noodles". Here I sit, watching "Julie & Julia" with my wife (her pick) and thinking about, of course, two things--fine food and blogging. And as I'm watching, I realize, "I haven't blogged this week yet." All forces combine and, viola! This week's post.
There are, certain small things in life that just seem to motivate me, such as a at-first-completely-uninteresting-sounding-with-below-average-previews-yet-increasingly-charming-movie. I find myself wanting to suddenly bone a duck and write a witty blog entry. Other motivations I'm gaining from giving in to my wife's Redbox wish include the desire to be more contageously optimistic and sprinkle random green things on my cooking creations (which include mostly ham, cheese, pickle, and onion sandwiches).
The one thing I don't need any movitvation to do is this: to cherish the sweet, funny, moments that are so small that they don't make books or magazines or even chick flicks with bad previews. The only spot in history these little life spices make is those moments where Krista and I laugh so hard we can't breathe. Well, I guess that's not true--the other place those moments end up is, of course, our blog.
I love my wife, her food, her blog, our moments, and yes, I even love that little silent face she gets when I want to watch some mindless, no-plot guy movie and she wants to watch and uplifting and touching "women's cinematic experience".
Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Ode to the Ttpktsdbndaiksamttdtmcotwat
There are, without excuse, some things that people just shouldn't do. Not wanting to sound critical, cynical, or any other negative c-word (though knowing that I run that risk), here is my ODE TO THE THINGS THAT PEOPLE KNOW THEY SHOULDN'T DO BUT NONETHELESS DO AND IT KINDA, SORTA ANNOYS ME THAT THEY DON'T TAKE MORE CONSIDERATION OF THE WORLD AROUND THEM.
Oh, man who drives so close to my bumper,
My white Chevy chariot already races 80 mph,
Yet in your haste, you drive but three inches from my muffler.
For miles you insist on this,
Until you find your opening,
Pull past me,
Speed up,
Pull back in front of me almost driving me off the road...
Then slow back down to 77 mph.
With tears in my eyes, I thank you for teaching me the errors of driving so slow.
Oh, lonely shopping cart,
I wish I could park in the spot that you occupy,
Alas! My soul cries out!
Some lost soul in an effort to save the precious 15 seconds it takes to put you away,
Has left you, like a kidney stone, blocking my safe park.
But wait!
Oh ho!
That, soul was not so lazy, careless, and inconsiderate as it seems--
They made sure they lifted your front two wheels into the planter to make sure you don't roll off.
Yes! Nice job Sir Cart-in-the-stall-leaver!
Oh, wonderfully talented cell-phone-talker/
make-up-putter-onner/
Big-Mac-eater/
Driver.
You prove your great worth to our people as you drive,
Taking up two and half lanes,
Driving in 3rd gear on the freeway,
Switching on your hazard lights to change lanes,
Then not changing lanes,
Then changing lanes,
All while so beautifully multitasking.
Lookest at thou go!
Ride! Ride on brave driver,
Creator of traffic jams and accidents in all their splendor and variety.
Oh thou line-pusher,
You stand so close to me in line,
I can hear your heart beating,
I can feel your breath on my neck,
Your nostrils on my earlobe.
You stand for the solid principle that we all know to be undeniably and invariably true:
The closer you stand to the front of the line,
And the more people you can push towards the front of the line,
The faster the line moves!
What a brave, courageous person to stand for such values.
Oh cell phone, Oh cell phone,
Thou art my greatest love.
I see how thy subjects cherish their moments with thee...
When they're with that friend they haven't seen for 8 years,
Sitting at the table,
Both of them,
Texting their brother-in-laws about the next day's weather.
Oh how thou hast lifted and enlightened our communication and language.
Gone are the days where ugly and long "phone calls" were needed,
Or even e-mails, with their fully spelled out words,
Or even face-to-face visits.
All gone,
Replaced by thy wonderful new syntax and clever emoticons.
O cell, tis so gr8 to b w/ u my Earlimi (Sorry, I mean, Darling).
So there you have it, somewhere between Shel Silverstein and Maury Povich.
Oh, man who drives so close to my bumper,
My white Chevy chariot already races 80 mph,
Yet in your haste, you drive but three inches from my muffler.
For miles you insist on this,
Until you find your opening,
Pull past me,
Speed up,
Pull back in front of me almost driving me off the road...
Then slow back down to 77 mph.
With tears in my eyes, I thank you for teaching me the errors of driving so slow.
Oh, lonely shopping cart,
I wish I could park in the spot that you occupy,
Alas! My soul cries out!
Some lost soul in an effort to save the precious 15 seconds it takes to put you away,
Has left you, like a kidney stone, blocking my safe park.
But wait!
Oh ho!
That, soul was not so lazy, careless, and inconsiderate as it seems--
They made sure they lifted your front two wheels into the planter to make sure you don't roll off.
Yes! Nice job Sir Cart-in-the-stall-leaver!
Oh, wonderfully talented cell-phone-talker/
make-up-putter-onner/
Big-Mac-eater/
Driver.
You prove your great worth to our people as you drive,
Taking up two and half lanes,
Driving in 3rd gear on the freeway,
Switching on your hazard lights to change lanes,
Then not changing lanes,
Then changing lanes,
All while so beautifully multitasking.
Lookest at thou go!
Ride! Ride on brave driver,
Creator of traffic jams and accidents in all their splendor and variety.
Oh thou line-pusher,
You stand so close to me in line,
I can hear your heart beating,
I can feel your breath on my neck,
Your nostrils on my earlobe.
You stand for the solid principle that we all know to be undeniably and invariably true:
The closer you stand to the front of the line,
And the more people you can push towards the front of the line,
The faster the line moves!
What a brave, courageous person to stand for such values.
Oh cell phone, Oh cell phone,
Thou art my greatest love.
I see how thy subjects cherish their moments with thee...
When they're with that friend they haven't seen for 8 years,
Sitting at the table,
Both of them,
Texting their brother-in-laws about the next day's weather.
Oh how thou hast lifted and enlightened our communication and language.
Gone are the days where ugly and long "phone calls" were needed,
Or even e-mails, with their fully spelled out words,
Or even face-to-face visits.
All gone,
Replaced by thy wonderful new syntax and clever emoticons.
O cell, tis so gr8 to b w/ u my Earlimi (Sorry, I mean, Darling).
So there you have it, somewhere between Shel Silverstein and Maury Povich.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Man Blog
"Welcome to Blogger, may I take your order?"
"Yes, I'd like to make one man-blog, please."
"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that? A man-blog?"
"Yes, a man-blog. You know, like a woman blog, but minus all the links to thousands of blogger-friends from high school and the pictures of little son Karssin's (I love people who find interesting ways to spell average names) first trip to the toilet and the frilly backgrounds with patters that look like a grandma-couch and colors that no one even knew were colors until women came along... You know, one of those blogs."
"So you want a blog with little or no pictures, no connection to other people or friends, and a basic boring background?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't think blogging was meant for that sort of thing."
So here it is: no drumroll, no drama, just plain blogging. This is not in any way a protest of women's blogs or blogging in general. I've watched my wife blog for the past two years (sometimes early in the morning when I think she's going to the bathroom) and am grateful for the record she's kept of our life.
However, in our past few years of marriage, I've realized just how much of a role blogging plays in our social life. I've listened to conversations between women that often contain a phrases something like this: "...well, I read on her blog that..." or "...yeah, even though we've never talked about this or e-mailed or used any other form of communication, I already know everything that's happening in your life because I read it on your blog...". I've had women whom I've never before met tell me more about myself than even I know all because they read my wife's blog. I've even heard this out of more than one woman's mouth: "You know, I saw her in the store and went up to say hi, but then stopped because I realized, even though I know her birthdate, all her children's names, her past seven favorite colors, her clever remedie for removing scabs, and her bed-wetting experience that even her husband doesn't know (he doesn't read the blog)--I've never met her. So I walked away." Apparently, the best (and maybe only) way to stay up on current social events is to blog.
So I've decided to join the game. The problem is, as I've roamed the blogosphere (through my wife of course) I've noticed that most blogs seem to be done by women. This is probably rightly so. In my preliminary research for this blog, I researched other blogs with similar names to mine. Both manblog.blogspot and manblogger.blogspot have one single post to their titles and both are about 5 years old; themanblog.blogspot has links on the side to comedycentral, espn, and playboy and posts that look like they discuss little else outside of those topics. So I personally think that it's a good thing the woman controls the blogging instead of the man. But I thought I'd give it a whirl anyway.
So here we go. My resolution is to "blog" every week about...well, I haven't quite figured that out yet. We'll just see where it goes--though I do promise no periwinkle/mauve paisley backgrounds.
"Yes, I'd like to make one man-blog, please."
"I'm sorry sir, could you repeat that? A man-blog?"
"Yes, a man-blog. You know, like a woman blog, but minus all the links to thousands of blogger-friends from high school and the pictures of little son Karssin's (I love people who find interesting ways to spell average names) first trip to the toilet and the frilly backgrounds with patters that look like a grandma-couch and colors that no one even knew were colors until women came along... You know, one of those blogs."
"So you want a blog with little or no pictures, no connection to other people or friends, and a basic boring background?"
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't think blogging was meant for that sort of thing."
So here it is: no drumroll, no drama, just plain blogging. This is not in any way a protest of women's blogs or blogging in general. I've watched my wife blog for the past two years (sometimes early in the morning when I think she's going to the bathroom) and am grateful for the record she's kept of our life.
However, in our past few years of marriage, I've realized just how much of a role blogging plays in our social life. I've listened to conversations between women that often contain a phrases something like this: "...well, I read on her blog that..." or "...yeah, even though we've never talked about this or e-mailed or used any other form of communication, I already know everything that's happening in your life because I read it on your blog...". I've had women whom I've never before met tell me more about myself than even I know all because they read my wife's blog. I've even heard this out of more than one woman's mouth: "You know, I saw her in the store and went up to say hi, but then stopped because I realized, even though I know her birthdate, all her children's names, her past seven favorite colors, her clever remedie for removing scabs, and her bed-wetting experience that even her husband doesn't know (he doesn't read the blog)--I've never met her. So I walked away." Apparently, the best (and maybe only) way to stay up on current social events is to blog.
So I've decided to join the game. The problem is, as I've roamed the blogosphere (through my wife of course) I've noticed that most blogs seem to be done by women. This is probably rightly so. In my preliminary research for this blog, I researched other blogs with similar names to mine. Both manblog.blogspot and manblogger.blogspot have one single post to their titles and both are about 5 years old; themanblog.blogspot has links on the side to comedycentral, espn, and playboy and posts that look like they discuss little else outside of those topics. So I personally think that it's a good thing the woman controls the blogging instead of the man. But I thought I'd give it a whirl anyway.
So here we go. My resolution is to "blog" every week about...well, I haven't quite figured that out yet. We'll just see where it goes--though I do promise no periwinkle/mauve paisley backgrounds.
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