LONGWALKABOUT

I visited thrift stores a lot this summer.  Not because I’m super thrifty, but because they always have items that I had no idea that I needed.  A thrift store is basically a yard sale on a giant scale with constantly rotating merchandise.  Here is some of the gold that I found on my last trip.

• The Club.  Not just any version of the Club.  The Club for trucks.  For just six dollars, you can secure your truck like it’s 1992.  Serious car thieves figured out how to beat this thing a long time ago.  But if it will make you feel better, go ahead and slap it on the steering wheel of your 2004 Ford pickup.  Scare away casual car thieves and save a buck while doing it.
• A used bowling ball.   Not funny.  Actually a pretty good deal.  In fact, I hope it’s still there.  I might go pick it up.  It’s time to complete my bucket list goal of bowling a 200 game.
• Used magazines.  Nothing makes me feel better than getting a terrific deal on a two month old issue of Martha Stewart Living.  I’m gonna be upset if the article about creating a perfect late summer centerpiece for my table has been clipped out.
• Second hand boxer shorts.  No.  I don’t think I’m bold enough to buy used underwear.  I’d rather go commando under the used pair of Levi’s that I just picked up.
• A copy of the Emancipation Proclamation.
• Black Dog, starring Patrick Swayze and Meatloaf, on VHS.  Wait, don’t tell me you’ve never seen Black Dog.  It’s your classic ex-con trucker fights gun runners to save his family movie.  Go ahead and throw it in your cart.  It’s only a buck.
• Used VCR’s.  So you say you have nothing to watch your copy of Black Dog on.  Don’t worry.  There are plenty of VCRs to choose from.  It seems like no one in the world actually throws away a VCR.
• Leopard print shoes and matching handbag.  Perfect for all you cougars out there.
  

  Yeah baby

• Golf clubs.  I have avoided being frustrated by the game of golf by simply not attempting it.  I stick to golf’s more enjoyable aspects.  1. Going to the driving range and trying to hit the guy driving the ball collector.  2.  Mini golf.  If I ever do want to pick up golf though, I know where to get my clubs.
• Finally.  My favorite item from the trip.  A five disc set of evil animal movies.  One of them even has Leslie Nielsen in it.  If the killing of Cecil the lion has really been bothering you, for six dollars you can pick up this “EVIL ANIMAL TRIPLE FEATURE” and in no time you’ll be writing a thank you letter to that Minnesota dentist.  The box says that there are five discs but only three movies.  That means there are probably hours of special features for you to dig into.  Who doesn’t have time to watch The Making of Devil Dog, Hound of Hell?

See, lot’s of stuff that you won’t find at Target.  So get comfy in your second hand boxers, hook up your VCR, and pop in Black Dog.  Enjoy the evening and take pride in the fact that it only cost you $7.50.

My oldest son is ten.  That means he is old enough to join Pathfinders.  If you aren’t an Adventist, you may not be familiar with what that is.  Well, Pathfinders is Boy Scouts, but we include the ladies as well.  That’s all well and good until the kids reach teen years and realize that the opposite sex is fascinating.  Nothing like stressing out the chaperones.

Since my oldest is now involved, it looks like I’m going to be involved.  We’ve just had our first meeting, and it looks like it’s going to be a good group of kids.  Watching my son start his Pathfinder experience brought back some memories.

FLASHBACK

In 1985 the Adventist church decided that they needed to have a camporee that, for the first time, would include Pathfinder clubs from all of North America.  They held it at Camp Hale, Colorado, 9200 ft. above sea level.  17000 people showed up and camped in the three mile long valley that was used as a training ground for the 10th Mountain Division during World War II.

Those are the main facts of the event.  This is how eight year old me remembers it.

We drove.  And then we drove.  And then we drove some more.  West Virginia to Colorado is a long way.  My family was,,,,,,,, thrifty.  So, we stayed in roadside motels that would have made great horror movie sets.  After shower time one night, I was sitting on the motel bed, staring at the amazing shag carpet, when I saw a spider as big as my hand.  I pointed this out to my parents and my dad said with the utmost confidence, “It’s just a wolf spider.”  My dad’s utter disregard for the spider put me at ease, so as the night went on I paid little mind to the original spider and to his five or six friends who were late to the party.

Memories of the camporee come in flashes.  I remember climbing a rock outcropping that I wasn’t supposed to.  I remember sleeping in an RV that was not hooked up to any facilities.  Cold showers.  A robotics demonstration tent that included Commodore 64 computers.  Some guys showing everyone how to throw axes.  They even brought in a dude who wrestled a bear.  I remember doing laundry at the laundromat in Leadville, Colorado.

What stands out the most from this trip is my mom taking me to the creek that ran through the valley so I could “pan for gold.”  To eight year old me any trip out west that didn’t involve panning for gold was a waste. So, I grabbed a pair of my mom’s boots that looked close enough to cowboy boots for me, and some kind of basin, and we headed to the creek.  It was cold and we found nothing.  But it is my favorite memory from that week.

Now I hope to help my son make some good outdoor memories as he gets to know new friends and learns some new skills.  My only request is that these memories do not involve bears, or stomach ailments when only pit toilets are available.  The next camporee is in 2019.  By then my son should be in full teenage mode.  Watch out ladies.

LINKS

• Don’t you hate it when you’re walking along and you trip and put your fist through an expensive painting?
• Apparently the guy who invented Minecraft and then sold it is kind of depressed.  My son would be very sad to know this.
• An elementary school teacher in New Jersey got suspended because he was late to work 111 times in 2 years.  He should have called me for advice before he registered his excuse.
• Secrets for brewing coffee at home from the people who charge you 5 bucks for a ‘medium’ latte.  Who am I kidding, they know my name over there.

Last week I had a tree service come to give me an estimate on removing a tree that hangs over my garage.  It also has a section that leans toward my neighbors house, but they have been too polite to mention it so far.  I figured I would be all neighborly and beat them to the punch and have it removed.  While the lady from the tree service was at the house, she asked if I wanted her to look at any other trees on the property.  I pointed out the big oak that stands in front of the house, and said that I might be interested in having it trimmed in the near future.  She looked up and then looked down on the ground to find a leaf that had fallen from the tree.  Finding one, she picked it up and turned it over.  I remember the following conversation going somewhat like this, but I may be misremembering.

“Sir, I have some bad news about your tree.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I’m going to get right to the point.  Your tree is dying.”

After an unintelligible cry of anguish.  “How much time do we have left doc?”

“Judging from the condition of the trunk and the visible loss of foliage, you may have up to five good years left.”

After some more sniffling.  “I guess it’s time for me to do those tree/owner things that I have been putting off.  I’ll mount a bird house on him.  Maybe we’ll find a place to hang a bird feeder.  I’ll try to get ahold of the squirrel that has a nest up there on that third limb and let him know that he’s going to need to look for new housing.  Maybe there’s a good spot for a tire swing.  Don’t worry big fella.”  I pat the trunk.  “This year you’re getting all the colored LED Christmas lights.  Screw those shrubs, you deserve to look good this holiday season.  This fall I’m going to put one of your leaves between some contact paper, and then next spring, I’m taking it on vacation with me.  You’re gonna see the world before your time’s up.”

Now the tree lady is just staring at me.  “Yeah, well, when you’re ready, we can cut that one down too.”

One other distressing thing.  My kids are returning to school soon.  They are spending their last week of freedom being spoiled by their grandparents.  The house is quiet.  In fact, it’s too quiet.  I thought that having them back in school would be good, because it would allow me to finish some projects that have been dragging on here at the house.  Now, I’m finding that I miss the commotion.  It’s going to be just me and the dog soon.  He just sleeps and, in general, acts like having me around is keeping him from properly relaxing.  I guess school is necessary, though.  I miss them now, but I sure don’t want them living with me when they’re thirty.

James Bond has been around for 52 years on film.  That’s a lot of vodka martinis.  That is also a lot of theme songs.  Twenty four of them to be exact.  With that many theme songs, you’re bound to have a few stinkers.  Luckily for you, I am here to list the worst ones, and to explain why.

5.  Tomorrow Never Dies by Sheryl Crow.  This movie’s theme song was originally supposed to be sung by k.d. lang, so I guess it was going to be bad no matter what.  I mean really.  Talk about two people who should not be involved in Bond themes.  The song they ended up with is a snoozer that has completely the wrong tone for a Bond movie.  If I was in charge of the artist search for this movie, and at the end of the search, it was just me and Sheryl Crow in the room, I’d say, “Oh well, I guess I’m singing it myself.”

4.  GoldenEye by Tina Turner.  For a song written by Bono and The Edge, especially for Tina Turner, it sure wasn’t very  good.  It should have been big, really big.  Now that I think about it, it suited the Pierce Brosnan Bond movies.  You go in excited, because Brosnan should be a good Bond, and then you leave disappointed because it never quite works.  My wife says it was because he doesn’t have an edge.  She always follows up with, “now that Daniel Craig……………”

3.  From Russia With Love by Matt Monro.  If you want to stay awake for the movie, skip the theme.  It might as well be a lullaby.

2.  Die Another Day by Madonna.  The studio was disappointed in the airplay that their last theme song had gotten (The World Is Not Enough by Garbage, happens to be one of the best Bond themes).  They wanted to get an artist with big name recognition for their next one.  So, they dug up Madonna, who I’m pretty sure by 2002 had received bilateral hip replacements.  This was a desperation move and they got what they deserved.  Madonna past her prime and trying to make music that could keep her relevant.  You know you’re in trouble when the description of the song includes it being “a metaphor for destroying one’s ego.”  And it’s techno.  C’mon.

1.  Thunderball by Tom Jones.  Where should I start?  I know.  How about the fact that the first lyrics in the song are “he always runs while others walk.”  What?  I had no idea that this was something that made you a better secret agent.  If it is, I have virtually no chance of becoming a spy.  If the song was about me the lyrics would go something like, “he won’t run unless there’s an emergency and even then he might just jog.”  This song was written at the last minute because of legal problems with the first one.  True story, when Tom Jones sang the final note in the studio, he passed out.

There you have it.  A few totally useless things to start off your weekend.  Please share.

LINKS

• A guy found out that his taxi driver had never been to an amusement park, so he paid for him to come along.  The pictures are pretty great.
• The Buffalo Bill house from Silence Of The Lambs is for sale, if you’re interested.
• It was a heavy news week for movie houses.  Seems like the owners of the Goonies house are tired of people dropping by.
• Today in 1959 Dwight Eisenhower made Hawaii our 50th state.

This is part three of a four part series.  For those who haven’t seen the first two installments, this is a list that I have compiled of people that you should avoid if you want to have a happy, stress free social life.  (This list could also be referred to as, The Reason Marc Has No Friends List.)

• Guys who ride around on their bicycles with no shirt on.  This is unnecessary.  If you need to take your shirt off to cool down, you aren’t pedaling fast enough.  Put your shirt on and walk.  Jogging, which is a ridiculous form of exercise on its own, makes you hot, therefore, you may want to remove your shirt.  If you are jogging, you have a pass to be shirtless.  This is not so with bike riding.  If you are riding your bike shirtless, it speaks to a certain level of narcissism.  Also, every guy who rides around shirtless on a bike happens to be whiter than the driven snow.  They may be trying to show off their physique, but they are so white that you cannot look directly at them with the naked eye.
• People who go to poetry clubs.  Luckily, I avoided attending poetry clubs while I was in college.  A lot of people I knew went down to a nearby poetry club to hear people rhyme about things that they were passionate about.  It was probably good that I never went, because I would have had a hard time not giggling while I sat in the back of the room.  I have a hard time taking a lot of things seriously, and if you get up in front of me and start rhyming passionately about something, that’s a recipe for hilarity.
• People who have pickup trucks with trailer hitch truck-nuts.  I know this is supposed to be some kind of statement on how manly your truck is, but I see those and shake my head.  Then my mind starts to wander.  You know what it really looks like?  It looks like your wife, or significant other, decided to remove your cojones and display them on the back of your automobile to let everyone know who’s the boss in your relationship.
• People who only talk about their jobs.  There are a couple of reasons to avoid these folks.  1.  They are going to make you feel horrible about your level of dedication to your job.  You’ll be like, “Man I wish I loved my job that much, I should be more dedicated, I should have accomplished more by this point in my life, wow I’m such a loser, where am I going with my life, what is my five year plan, maybe I need to see a shrink or join one of those motivational cults.”  Snap out of it.  There’s nothing wrong with you, they’re the messed up ones.  2.  They have no other interests.  Go ahead ask them about their hobbies.  (They don’t have any)  The conversation will ultimately loop back around to their work.  (See #1)
• Clowns.  Always avoid clowns.

According to Phineas and Ferb, there are 104 days of summer vacation.  I haven’t taken the time to count them.  I trust Phineas.  I have always lived in a climate with seasons, so these days are valuable.  Carlos Castaneda said in one of his books, “There is one simple thing wrong with you – you think you have plenty of time …”  Then he went on to say a bunch of other goofy stuff, and to hole up in a house with three women who cut themselves from their families, and then he founded some kind of phony religion.  Don’t let that distract you from the truth of the quote, though.  He may have been nuts, but you know what they say about blind squirrels,,,,,,,,, they are way more likely to get hit by cars.

I saw leaves from the big oak tree in my front yard on the ground last week, and I almost had a conniption.  Winter is coming.  We needed to do something very summery, stat.  I knew that the Perseid meteor shower was peaking later in the week.  I also knew that there was a state park in north central Pennsylvania that was famous for its dark skies and its star gazing.  I looked at my boys and said. “We’re going camping Thursday night.”  Of course, they totally ignored me because they were playing video games.  I then started packing.

This was going to be a fast trip, but I figured that we had time to check off one more item on the list of things you can only do in summertime.  In Loyalsock State forest, there is a mountain stream that Backpacker Magazine claims has some of the best swimming holes in the U.S.  This also sounded doable.

Thursday morning I told the boys to get in the car, because we were going on a camping adventure.  One of them looked at me, “We’re going camping?”  I informed them that this was an electronics free trip and told them to grab some books, and off we went.  Cherry Springs State Park is roughly a four hour drive.  We got there in early afternoon, only to find the campsite full.  Five miles away is another park.  Also full.  Apparently there are some people who take their star gazing quite seriously.  They had planned their trips more than 48 hours in advance.  So, 25 miles later we pulled into Colton Point State Park, on the rim of Pine Creek Gorge, which is sometimes referred to as the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania.  We took one ride through the uncrowded campground loop, to pick a campsite, and to see if there was anyone already camping there who looked like they may be a serial killer.  There was a nice site available that was far enough away from the most serial killery looking of our fellow campers.  After dinner and Smores we sat by the fire and waited for dark.  Around ten o’clock, we walked over to a field that had been cleared for group camping.  The sky was dark and full of stars.  The Milky Way was visible with the naked eye.  We sat there looking up at the stars until we had each seen a meteor.  Time for bed.

After a quick breakfast, we broke camp, took in the views of the gorge from several overlooks, and headed for our next adventure. I stopped when I found some cell service and texted my wife to let her know that we had not yet gotten into significant trouble.  An hour later, we pulled into the state forest on a gravel road.  After about two miles and some help, we found the swimming hole I was looking for.  Backpacker magazine was right.  It was definitely one of the best swimming holes I had ever been to.  It was deep and surrounded by rocks and steep banks that you could jump from.  It was also freaking freezing.  I figured that it was going to be cold, but the first time I jumped in, my breath caught, and my whole body hurt.  The kids hadn’t been in yet, so they were still stoked.  I looked at my five year old standing there in his life vest and said, “buddy it’s really………”   Before I could finish my sentence he was in the water.  I jumped in after him and we both climbed out together.  He looked at me angrily (it doesn’t take much to make him angry), “dad, this place is the worst, it’s too cold.”  So, I wrapped him in a towel and watched as my ten year old finally jumped in.  When he surfaced, he made a couple of noises that I found completely hilarious as he swam towards the exit of the pool like Michael Phelps.  He got up the nerve to jump in a few more times.  Then we changed into dry clothes on bank of the mountain stream and headed out of the forest and towards home.

If I’m lucky, I will have ninety some odd summers to enjoy.  I have to eliminate the first five because I don’t remember them.  I probably have to eliminate the last ten because I’ll be too worried about breaking a hip to try anything really cool.  That leaves about seventy five summers in between.  At my age, I’m looking at less than fifty awesome summers to go.  In Phineas and Ferb math, that comes out to like 4,888 days of summer vacation.  When I count the summers that I will get to spend with my kids when they are young, that number gets significantly smaller still.  So, however crazy Mr. Castaneda may have been, he’s right about time, and I’m doing my best to keep that in the back of my mind.  Each day of summer, I try to wake up stoked, and say, “boys, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

LINKS

• Winners of the National Geographic Travel photo contest.  Pretty spectacular.
• Remember that famous kiss photo from LIFE magazine at the end of World War II.  There was recently a mass reenactment to celebrate its 70th anniversary.
• A man dressed in a bear costume started messing with a mother bear and two cubs in Alaska, and no one knew what to do about it.
• Bear Grylls explains why your kids need to be exposed to risk.

• I have decided that anyone who claims to enjoy preseason football is either lying, or not a well balanced human being.  No one, not even players and coaches, enjoys preseason football.
• A statue has been commissioned to celebrate Tom Cruise’s 25 years in Scientology.  It’s,,,,,,,,,,well,,,,,, let’s just say it’s interesting.  I hope that my church someday puts up a statue of me.  I won’t hold my breath, though.  Adventism is not a very statuey religion.  If it ever were to happen, though, I can picture it in my head.  It would be bronze and about nine feet tall.  It would depict me sleeping in a church pew, and include an inscription on the base that informed everyone how the religion as a whole was slightly disappointed in me.
• Movie recommendation of the week:  Oblivion.  Tom Cruise really is one of the last true movie stars.  Trust me, it’s cool.
• Coffee is good.
• We recently eliminated cable in our house.  Not because we are superior people, just because we were tired of paying for it.  Now we rely on streaming services like Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon for entertainment.  I don’t miss the cable at all.  I’ll be buying an HD antenna so I can get the networks for football season.  You may say. “Don’t you miss having cable news? How do you stay informed of all the awful things going on in the world?”  Well, I’ve come up with a solution for that too.  I just hop on Donald Trump’s Facebook page to find out everything I need to know.  For instance, this week I learned that the debate moderators were very unfair to the Donald, and that everyone else is a horrible candidate.
• Political observation of the week:  Some of the GOP candidates that are lagging behind in the polls might want to consider taking verbal shots at Rosie O’Donnell in the next debate.  It might help them out.  Also, it would be super entertaining to see Mike Huckabee and Lindsey Graham making fun of Rosie.
• Every time I watch Phineas and Ferb with the kids (who am I kidding, I watch Phineas and Ferb without the kids too, I love that show), it makes me feel like I haven’t accomplished nearly enough on summer vacation.
• Today the boys and I went to two grocery stores, Barnes and Noble, and the library, all in an hour and a half.  World record?  Maybe.
• Now that I have streaming services, it’s time to introduce the kids to MacGyver.  Let it never be said that my children are uncultured.

 

Have you ever thought, “You know what I need?  A new gas weed trimmer.  You know what I don’t want to pay?  Full price.”  Well then.  Craigslist may be for you.  You can find virtually anything for sale on Craigslist.  Anything.  All brought to you by your fellow citizens.  Yes, the same citizens who you generally try to avoid eye contact with during the regular week.  So, if you’re ready for a bargain, and you’d also like to see if your ‘fight or flight’ instincts are up to par, give it a shot.  Here are some helpful tips for your buying experience.

• Meet the buyer or seller at a public place, if at all possible.  Usually you can make your deal in the parking lot of a store, or maybe the mall.  When you both arrive, the whole thing goes down like some sort of hostage exchange.  You size the other guy up at a reasonable distance.

“You the guy I talked to on the phone?”

“Yeah”

“You got the trimmer?”

“Yeah, you got the cash?”

“I got the cash.  How about forty instead of forty five?”   And,,,,,, boom, you’ve got yourself a new used weed trimmer.

• If you do have to go to someone’s house to pick something up.  It’s best if you don’t go alone.  If you do go alone, and the person says, “Hey, it’s nice to meet you, the bicycle you’re interested in is down in my basement, I’d have brought it out here, but my back’s been acting up”, don’t go in.  If you do go in and the person says, “Okay, it’s right over there behind that door, yes, the soundproofed one”, and you’re still thinking about a bike, then, A: You really want a bike, and, B: Your ‘fight or flight’ instincts are not up to par.
• Also, it’s probably best not to try to find a masseuse on Craigslist.  I’m sure that there are some legitimate massage therapists floating around the internet, but,,,,,,,,,,………  I’m just saying, you’re going to be in the middle of your massage and the next thing you know, the ‘masseuse’ is running for the back door, and in come the cops, and hey, that’s just awkward.
• Last but not least.  If someone asks you to wire them money or send them a money order for anything, and you do it, then you just aren’t that smart.  Stick to the mall where you can get robbed by retailers face to face.

Now you are prepared for shopping in the wild west that is Craigslist.  Happy hunting.

Like me on Facebook.  Have a great weekend.

LINKS

• The Perseid meteor shower is happening next week.  Put down the electronic devices for twenty minutes and go catch a shooting star.
• Runner up for my favorite story of the week.  This guy says his yorkie saved him from a bigfoot encounter.  THERE’S VIDEO.
• On August 7, 1942, the Guadalcanal campaign started.  Here’s a good summary from the National World War II Museum.
• My favorite story of the week.  Spider Man fights a heckler in Times Square.  THERE’S VIDEO.

Sometimes I think, “Hey you know what might be cool?  Getting a tattoo.”  Then I say it out loud and my wife looks at me and shakes her head.  She doesn’t even say anything.  I know she thinks that she’s very scary and can intimidate me into making wise decisions, and she’s right about that most of the time, but that is not the main reason that I remain tattooless.  I fear making a poor decision in the tattoo department even more than I fear her.

Tattoos are a big commitment.  First.  You have to pick a place on your body to display this picture or foreign word that does not mean what you think it does.  Ankle?  Nope.  I’m not a girl.  Calf?  Nope.  That’s just an awkward spot.  Forearms?  Nope.  I may have to apply for a respectable job at some point.  Neck?  Nope.  Just nope.  Face?  What do I look like, an inmate, or some disgraced former heavyweight champ.  Upper arm?  Okay, maybe.  It is a classic location.  Shoulder blade?  Maybe.  Lower back?….  When I was working in New Jersey, there were some guys painting our shop building.  They would show up in the morning to get started at about the same time we showed up.  One morning, one of the painters was bent over cleaning out a paint bucket.  His shirt had ridden up revealing a sizable tattoo on his lower back.  I don’t remember what it was of.  For my own enjoyment I like to remember it as dolphins or Chinese lettering, or maybe even something like “Gary Glitter Forever”.  Anyway.  My partner, who, much to my delight, had no filter between what he thought and what came out of his mouth, immediately blurted, “You’ve got a tramp stamp.”  A great conversation with an embarrassed painter followed.  Long story short.  He said that he had gotten it before they were known as “tramp stamps.”  I was unaware that there was such a time.

The second thing about the whole tattoo commitment thing is choosing a design.  That’s hard.  I can start out by eliminating some things.  Barb wire, words in other languages, realistic pictures of people, sports team logos, tribal designs, rock band logos.  Because of varying degrees of tackiness, those things are not options.  So I sit here and think.  What could I put on my body permanently that represents something that has never let me down.  Something that I’m sure will never let me down.  Something that is very important to me.  No matter how long I think about it or how many times I think about it, I always end up with a burrito on one shoulder blade, a slice of pizza on the other, and Dr Pepper across my knuckles.  Aaaaaannnnnndd, there you have it.  The reason I have no tattoos.

This is most effectively read if you imagine the Law and Order DUN DUN at each time point.

7:00-  I’m up.  Maybe I can listen to a little of my audiobook before the kids come downstairs.

7:05-  Thump thump thump.  My oldest is coming down the steps.  He will either fall asleep again on the couch or proclaim himself to be hungry.

7:30-  Breakfast is had by all.  Except for my youngest, who has the sleep patterns of a rock star, and a room that looks like a rock star has trashed it.  I think that he would make a good rock star.  He has the best dance moves of the family, has Rod Stewart hair, and I can definitely picture him throwing a television out of a hotel window.

7:45-  Mommy leaves for work.

8:00-  The little guy wanders downstairs, asks for waffles with Nutella, and if he can play video games.

8:30-  My little one plays video games while his older brother watches.  (Older brother has been banned from the game system for 3 weeks.  This is the penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct in our house.  Unsportsmanlike conduct in our house is disrespecting mommy.)

9:00-  I ask the boys what they would like to do today.  They say “I don’t know.”  I put out a minimum of four suggestions, all of which are met with rolled eyes, or, “that sounds boring.”

9:15-  At least one kid says, “There’s nothing to do here.”

9:16-  I explain to the kids how they are spoiled.

9:20-  We get in the car and head out to the park.  (One of my previous suggestions)

9:40-11:40-  Great fun is had at the park.  My oldest thanks me for taking them.  My youngest complains that we are leaving.

12:00- Burritos.  MMMmmmmm.

1:00-  Home for the afternoon.

1:10-  “Dad, there’s nothing to do.”

1:11-  I threaten to get rid of all of their toys if they don’t play with them.

2:30-  My youngest announces that he is still hungry.  This is the first of these announcements.  There will probably be two more.  I tell him that the kitchen is closed until dinner.

3:00-  I try to get something done for myself.

3:02-  The boys get in a fight.

3:15-  I ask my oldest to do his piano practice and deal with the subsequent whining.

3:17-  I explain to the kids how they are spoiled for the second time.

3:40-  I try to get something done for myself.

3:41-  The boys get in a fight.

3:42-  I give up on getting anything done for myself.

4:15-  I tell the kids that we are going swimming at the Y.  My oldest says, “Again?”

4:16-  I threaten to cancel the Y membership and have them spend the rest of the summer cleaning the house.

4:45-  We meet mommy at the Y, swim and have a good time……  Until someone else’s kid throws up in the pool and we get out as fast as we can.  I enjoy the fact that it was someone else’s kid.

5:45-  We whip up some dinner at home.

6:15-  My youngest sits down at the table and says, “There is nothing I like here.”  The list of things he likes consists of pizza, macaroni, mommy’s homemade soup, and chicken.  He holds out for a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  Well played, little guy, well played.

7:15-  Shower time is announced.

7:15-  Shower time is complained about.

7:18-  Showers are taken.

8:00-  Mommy lays down with the boys to read with them.

8:15-  Mommy falls asleep and the book falls and hits her in the face.  Oldest pokes her to wake her up.

8:20-  Mommy falls asleep and the book falls and hits her in the face.  Oldest pokes her to wake her up.

8:25-  Mommy falls asleep and the book falls and hits her in the face.  Oldest gives up and reads to himself.

9:00-  I look at them all sleeping and think that there are still no other people I’d rather spend my day with.

LINKS

• Buzz Bissinger, author of Friday Night Lights, revisits Odessa twenty five years later.  This is a really interesting read.
• There will be a “blue moon” tonight.  Here’s what that means.
• Earl the Grumpy Dog has a Facebook page.  It’s worth a look.
• Two employees at Subway foil a robbery attempt by ignoring the guy.  My favorite story of the week.