Ruminations on Christmas/December/Solstice

• Each year I get to watch my boy appear and disappear in a 24 hour period.  I hate that.
• It's amazing how rewarding it can be to put something together with your kids.  This year, I got to put together a playschool dollhouse, a K'Nex Twisted Coaster, and an er...um....something to do with mechanized hamsters that need exercise.  
• A toy is evil if and only if it requires batteries.
• I find Michael Bay's Transformer's movie mesmerizing in that "If its on, I have to watch it" way I usually reserve for Airplane!, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and The Ten Commandents.
• Bad news is worse at Christmas somehow.  It's like you're in the foxhole, getting shelled, and the guy next to you farts.  Nothing to do but smell it.
• The Mattress sales industry should be regulated tighter than casinos.  Casinos at least offer comps.
• If you're on the hook to feed your buddy's dog while he's on vacation, wear comfortable footwear.  Said dog may be off her chain and feeling athletic.
• Bulleted lists get tiring after 4 bullets.

I finished Meghan McCain's Dirty Sexy Politics a few days ago, and I found it both naive and insightful.  Naive in that the book's the equivalent of the hot date that goes nowhere:  Meghan tells all, but has frightfully little to tell of consequence, aside from her night in Nashville with John Rich and how she totally screwed-up that infamous GQ interview.

The real insights were from a cogent, engaged moderate Republican (YAY, we DO EXIST!) embedded in  a party moving towards the radical fringe.  It refreshes one to hear a Republican who's true to the ideals of small government, personal freedom, and lower taxes, without pushing a specific moral agenda.

Overall, it was a fluffy, inconsequential book that didn't live up to its promise.

Inside the mind of my 3 year old

So, the other day, J-man and I were trekking to Shelbyville, Maria in the back seat.  Joey was bored and he started the "Guess a number between..."  Each time we play this game, I calc the ceil(lg(N)) of the higher number and request that many guesses, and I win every time.  ("Stand back, I'm going to try science!")

Anyway....Maria wanted to get in on this, too.   Which is fascinating, since she CAN'T COUNT.

M: I'm thinking of a number between four and nine.

J: 7

M: No

H: 5

...we proceed to guess every number between 4 and 9, inclusive.  Twice.

M: No guys...you're doing it wrong!

Inspiration struck.

H: Is it forty nine?

M: YES!  VERY GOOD DADDY.

* * *

My one parental gift is a capacity to think like a 3 year old.

Randomness, December 21st edition

Ruminations for today:

• It's a crime there's no site where you can put in reasonable search criteria ("manual diesel wagon") and have it monitor AutoTrader, eBayMotors, Cars.com, Craigslist, etc. Sort of like Kayak.com does for airline tickets or Mint.com does for finances. Corollary thought: Some techno-geek/gear head like me invented just such a program, but loved it so much never left his Mom's basement. Plurality of choice sucks.
• Both 'cancelled' and 'canceled' are correct English. The single-L form makes my brain want to explode.
• So, okay...until we invent telepathy, we're stuck with language of some form to communicate ideas. Each language has its own strengths and weaknesses: brevity, density, beauty, expressiveness. Could we come up with something BETTER THAN ENGLISH, please?!
• Corporate communications is where English majors go to die.

In no particular order, here are the new cars I want to test drive:

1. Mazda 2
2. Mazda RX-8
3. Ford Fiesta hatch
4. VW Golf TDI manual
5. Subaru WRX Hatch
6. Fiat 500
7. BMW 128i
8. Nissan Juke (yes, I'll keep my eyes closed as I get in)
9. Caddilac CTS

Pretty much, small, sporty and nimble are my tastes. I was on the interstate last night at 70 and began wiggling the steering on my Camry 15 degrees either side of center, and it didn't change direction. It's like driving a C-17 without the thrust reversers.

(Yes, I had some time to kill while my integration tests ran on my code...can ya tell?)

The weekend that was: Dec 11th, 12th

I sit here in office 249, staring down the last work week of the year, the Meghan McCain tome Dirty Sexy Money winking at me. Outside, the temperature hovers at 17 F, as arctic air chills most of America.

Yes, I blinked, and the weekend was over.

So, what happened?

First, I saw Despicable Me with Maria Thursday night (yes, a little Daddy/Daughter time). Wonderful film, even if the tickets cost us $3 and the concessions cost $19. I laughed a lot, and Steve Carell is a genius. I've subjected Whitney to my (bad) Gru impression since Friday.

Friday was an odd day. I got my soul RotoRootered on Thursday afternoon, so I felt off-center Friday. Emotional and talkative, rather like my Real Self^© got to come out and play for a few hours. That's me that isn't crushingly overbearing, self-absorbed, defensive, etc. The guy who wrote poems, played (and liked) music, and put himself out there every day. 'Twas nice.

Anyway, so I had a couple of meetings on interviewing technique Friday, then I ran out to Ken Towrey's Auto Care to get the Blizzaks mounted on Bessie, our 2004 Honda Odyssey. Beautiful afternoon to just be out-and-about.

Then, I came home and had to take Joe to Louisville, and I got some sleep. Sleep is wonderful; I recommend it.

Saturday dawned with both Whitney and I cursing our mattress. "Curse you, mattress!" we yelled. Whitney fell on some ice last week, and I have a bad back. Saturday, we made a great 60-year-old surly couple, though neither of us have the requisite dentures. In any case, we resolved to buy a mattress on Saturday. Then Whitney fell back to sleep for 2 hours and I looked at my TODO list, and we resolved to feel resentful that we couldn't buy a mattress on Saturday.

If the above sounds like a passage of absurdity from a Johnathan Swift essay, welcome to Chez Combs.

Anyway, Saturday was productive. Everyone bathed, which at Infant DefCon 1 is an accomplishment. I took the recycling out, and went to Kroger, then we hit ReKid to recycle some clothes and the Lexington Ice Center where Whitney and Maria skated. I got to hold Grace and watch them skate, which is fine by me. My panic attacks at the sight of skates have stopped, but only recently.

Sunday, I got some time to myself, which basically served to free up the logjam of crap in my psyche--Things I haven't dealt with, don't want to deal with, and don't have time to deal with.

To cap it all, the Midwest snowstorm sideswiped Kentucky just in time for me to fight snow all the way to Shelbyville and all the way back. At least the Blizzaks + Honda traction control made that easy enough.