Doing what you love and loving what you do...

Each time Gracie tries to build a castle out of Lego blocks, John likes to join in. Usually his efforts are a bit more destructive than constructive. It’s just a reflex. He’s trying to play too.

So today Grace the Architect was working about 10 minutes at her latest creation, when John the Building Inspector made his appearance and knocked it flat, throwing blocks in three different directions.

The Architect screamed and cried. The Building Inspector retreated from the scene…but this time with not just the emotionless face of a man doing his job, but with the smirk of a little boy who really is enjoying it.

It’s official. The game is on.

The Haircut Fits. Now.

I always wanted to be a Marine. Still do.

The idea of a team that didn’t break up, no matter what, appealed to me. I wanted to be part of something like that.

I liked the “truth” that the guy in the movie said I couldn’t handle. (even if he was the "bad guy") That there were ideals that rose above “me first,” things like “honor” and “code.”

But at the time I was age-eligible for the “corps,” I was about six feet tall and weighed 125 pounds and was, at that time, 0-fer in fights in my life. And I couldn’t swim very well. And if Riddick Bowe couldn’t do it, what chance did I have?

This seemed to end the possibility of my career as a jarhead. But mentally, I was there.

As said (by a different guy in a different movie)…a man’s got to know his limitations.

And then there's the one about the guy with a blog...

I have about three ideas for a novel per month.

Sometimes they are just fleeting ideas as I’m lying in bed trying to go to sleep. I usually fall asleep before they get developed. This lets me know they aren’t very good ideas.

But I have one idea that I have been thinking about for more than 10 years.

It’s about a guy that lived all over the country as a child. In his late 20’s, he begins to hear stories of his childhood friends in each town being murdered. As quickly as he figures out what is going on, he is under suspicion, seemingly framed for the murders.

What I haven’t gotten to yet (in my development) is who is framing him. Is it a conniving wife? A jealous friend? A local golf professional? Or just a coincidence?

His only chance is to try to find the truth. But each day he searches for the killer convinces the cops that he is the guilty one.

So many questions to answer, so little time…Will he find the killer? And if he does, can he prove it? Is the guy at the local deli using Miracle Whip instead of Mayonnaise?

And why is he hooking his tee shots?

What you write after you spend all day at the hospital...

When I was 12 or so I went to a birthday party for a kid from my class. When I got there, the house was empty except for a couple of other friends. His mother was drunk hadn’t planned anything. (His father wasn’t in the picture…never met him)

That night, we played pool and had a good time. It wasn’t until years later I found out about his mom that night.

The next month, his house caught fire. He stayed at my house for a couple of days while his mom found a new place to live.

The old place was fixed and he moved back in. A year later it exploded one day while he was at school.

And yet through all this hardship, he was a fair-weather friend and a backstabber. He wouldn’t hesitate to sell someone out or short if it benefitted him.

And whenever I think about this, I end up not knowing what to think, really.

More filling...tastes great

I used to joke that the lottery was a tax on people who couldn’t calculate odds. 

Also, I used to joke about the odds were less that you would win the lottery than the odds that you would be struck by lightning…twice. 

To which my lottery-playing colleague would say…”obviously, if you never play.”  He had a point. 

I’m seeing the lottery stuff when I buy (not quite daily, but close) Pepsi and bag of Chesters Hot Fries.  I’m not sure that I’m really playing the odds correctly on that one.

The Tennessee Lottery has about 10 different ways to win…or lose.  I can’t seem to figure it out.  And the guy behind the counter in my convenience store of most convenience doesn’t seem interested in helping me out.  He looks like the kind of guy that would try to talk me out of buying a pack of cigarettes instead of just reaching behind and grabbing the Marlboro Lights. 

I’m actually a little leery of the whole thing…I feel like the second I handed over the money to the clerk, the cops would jump out of the shadows, slap cuffs on me and lead me away. 

The Pepsi and bag of hot fries lasts for about a half an hour and all I feel is a little fire in the belly for my $2. 

I assume the lost dollar wouldn’t be as filling.   And my taxes are high enough.  

It's raining right now...I'll be right back...

I have two problems with our garage.

First of all, I have to remember to raise the garage door BEFORE I back out in the morning.

This was a problem recently. But I think the small dent on the back of my car, the panic that hit me when I heard the crash (I’m still having flashbacks), the embarrassment involved with the whole thing, and the small dent on the garage may help me remember this for a few weeks at least.

The other problem is that the car is always dirty due to the fact that the car doesn't sit outside anymore.

I have always been a Calvinist* as to the cleanliness of the outside of my car...i.e…when God wanted me to have a clean car, it rained.

But now that I have a garage, I may have try to keep the car clean in my own strength (and worry that my car may lose its cleanliness at any time) and make the switch over to Arminianism.*

Or I could alternate days that I park it inside the garage (thereby knowing what would/wouldn't have happened if I had/hadn't parked it inside/outside) and become a follower of Monlinsim.*

*Calvinism: http://www.answers.com/topic/calvinism
*Arminianism: http://www.gotquestions.org/arminianism.html
*Monlinism: http://www.gotquestions.org/molinism.html

Internet Milk Carton...

SPONTANEOUS DISAPPEARANCE
The Stupid Scholar

Aliases: Billy Joe, The Secret Smoker, Hey You There with the Beard

DESCRIPTION

Date of Birth: Early 80’s

Hair: Black
Place of Birth: Maryland

Eyes: Brown
Height: 5'10"

Sex: Male
Weight: Unknown

Race: White
Occupation: Academics

LAST KNOWN WHEREABOUTS

The Stupid Scholar was heard from on August 26, 2008 on his blog when he posted something about free time and then on September 6, 2008 a link to a video saying, “This is what I want to be when I grow up.” He has not been seen since. He has not posted. He has simply vanished.

A search of D.C. area bars and taverns is being conducted. Be on the lookout for a man fitting the above description mumbling in greek and hebrew.

You can tell people you heard it here first...

I’m sure it’s a big rush for songwriters or performers to hear their song on the radio or to hear someone singing along with the lyrics.

So when Gracie was singing “If I had some pepperoni” last night, I was very proud. John even sang along.

I composed this little ditty one night (a night we weren’t eating pizza, strangely enough) in the living room during the time between mid-afternoon and dinner. It even had a dance that went with it. And months later, we still are heard to be singing it upon occasion, although now usually right before bedtime.

Here are the lyrics…

If I had some pepperoni
I’d be a happy guy

If I had some pepperoni
Why…I’d feel like ten-feet-high!

Pepperoni, if I had some
My life would be complete

Pepperoni, if I had some
Beet, beet, beet, beet, beet

Enjoy. If you decide to mass market it and make a bunch of money, please send me my cut.

Enjoy it while it lasts...

New York, NY-- The producers at Fox News, CNN, and MSNBC have announced that they will sit on their sets and just stare in silence at each other for the next three weeks.

“We’ve got nothing to report or say,” said CNN News Executive Bill Walden. “Not until the next election starts, that is.”

Hillary Clinton, Mitt Romney, whoever loses today, and others are expected to announce their candidacy for the 2012 Presidential race in the next few weeks and will travel to New Hampshire to begin campaigning in January.

“The most important election of our lifetime is 2012,” said one candidate. “For me, that is.”

One more time I should have kept my mouth shut...

During dinner I was daydreaming (about how I should have posted something last Friday about Halloween and how the Democrats must have invented the idea of going door to door getting handouts) when I realized that there was a protest being lodged by Gracie regarding green beans.

We told her she didn’t have to eat them. She likes green beans, but tonight was different, she told us. She didn’t want to eat them. Fine, we said.

As a kid, I was kind of a picky eater, and hence, Holli and I don’t have a “sit until you eat it” policy at our house…it never made sense to me that I was still sitting at the table two hours after dinner because (in my opinion) the food was lousy.

Mom worked during the day and as she reminded me often, it wasn’t “running a restaurant” nor was she a “short-order cook.”

One night I (without much thought to what it might mean to my immediate future) said, “Yeah, no kidding!”

The response I got to this statement wasn’t laughter. I can’t really even laugh about it now.