Despite the fact that Catherine and I have been arguing about the merits of my push lawn-mower-- she claims my beloved push-mower doesn't really cut the lawn-- this morning when I read in Wired that a gasoline-powered mower emits eleven times more pollution than an automobile-- get this-- I didn't even mention it to her . . . I made a very mature executive decision not to open that can of worms on a peaceful Saturday morning while we were drinking our coffee (but I can't promise that I won't mention the fact at a later date).
Dave Does His Civic Duty (Begrudgingly)
Jury duty effectively combined a trans-Atlantic airplane flight, the DMV, and a Kafka novel: I sat on an uncomfortable seat in a stuffy room with strange people for eight hours waiting for my number to be called, but it never was-- which is good, because I don't have to serve on a trial, but my eyes still hurt from reading so much (if I owned a cell-phone I could have called random people and talked about my daughter's science project, like the guy next to me) . . . I read an entire novel (Evelyn Waugh's Vile Bodies-- very funny and appropriate title for the day) and as much as I could handle of The Cosmic Landscape, but then it got too hard and I bought a random magazine about science culture called Seed at lunch.
Just Look Serious For the Camera
After three hours of tension, nothing much happens at the end of The Good Shepherd-- but I will hand it to Matt Damon for picking the easiest three hour movie script to memorize in the history of cinema: he's on-screen for then entire epic, and I think he says ten lines.
Teenagers . . . They'll Eat Anything
Last week, I took some store-bought beef jerky and put it in a crumpled plastic bag, and told my philosophy class it was Alex's pet rabbit "Hoppy" and that had died over the winter-- his hutch got too cold-- and that in order to teach Alex about recycling, we gutted Hoppy, jerked the carcass, and then ate some of him . . . I expected a dramatic emotional response, perhaps even a threat to call DYFUS, but no one thought anything of it and a handful of kids actually ate some.
It's Hard to Be a Straight Man
Friday night there were a couple of Rutger's football players sitting next to us at the bar, and the blond girl sitting with them with was so distractingly good-looking that I wished she would leave so I would stop leering (but, of course, she didn't leave, and instead took off her sweater so then I had to avoid the temptation of leering at exposed cleavage as well).
Grolar vs. Pizzly
Like string theorist Leonard Susskind, I prefer the sound of "megaverse" to "multiverse," but I also prefer the moniker grolar bear rather than pizzly bear-- and we all know what happened with that one.
Super Extra Serendipitous Good Luck Bonus Sentence
On the way to work this morning-- and, appropriately, it was raining-- I passed by a tractor trailer double stacked with concrete sarcophagi.
My Son Already Has a Higher Rank Than Me?
While we walked to get some falafel Alex formulated an intricate plan to spring loose the baby pig he visits with my dad at College Farm-- he's seen Charlotte's Web and he knows that if he doesn't rescue the little swine he will end up as bacon; the plan includes an alarm to wake us in the middle of the night, a midnight bicycle ride, a bell Alex can ring if he needs me to pedal faster, a lantern on a stick, a knapsack to put the pig in, and-- most important-- a promise . . . that I won't say, "Oh, man!" when Alex gives me an order.
Parrot vs. Human
I just read an article in the New Yorker about this African gray parrot (who, unfortunately, just croaked) and he seems to know his colors and shapes slightly better than my two year old son.
Vocab Lesson
I just raced to the finish of Richard Price's new novel Lush Life, and along the way I learned a few new words and terms: want cards, a whistle, a bump, shirred, wits, paradiddle, etc.
Solar Flare Blues
If you're feeling down and you don't know why, it could be a solar flare bombarding your pineal gland with electromagnetically charged particles . . . or you might want to try to get more sleep.
Happiness is Having More Fun Than Your Brother
Alex lost video-watching-privileges last night because of his recalcitrance at the smoothie place, but while Ian was watching Dinotopia we had heard lots of rustling and stacking in his room; when I went up he showed me the castle he had built with his blocks and he made sure to tell me that he had built a "gigantic base" so it wouldn't fall, and that he used "different materials"-- both pieces of advice I had given him, so this was his subtle way of making up with me, and then he added, "so I had more fun than Ian."
Death By Venom Is Funny
Last night, Ian found someone willing to turn every page in his animal encyclopedia (she was ten) and with each animal he had a dire warning: "if you go near that crocodile, it will bite you and you will be dead . . . if you go by that bug and touch it, you will be dead . . . if you go by that snake, you will be dead" and although the animals he pointed out certainly are very dangerous and have probably killed many people throughout the world, it's still funny when it comes from a two year old.
Juno Impregnated My Brain (With a Desire For Orange Tic Tacs)
Yesterday, on my way to happy hour, I did something very uncharacteristic: I made an impulse buy . . . I had watched Juno the night before and I had a desire for orange Tic-Tacs which was obviously generated by the clever product placement in the film; normally I never make any frivolous purchases-- especially ones dictated to me by the media-- but I was feeling wild, and they were only a dollar (they tasted so good that I finished the entire box on the way home).
The Good, The Bad, The Lies, and a Booger
Alex told me that at school yesterday, "a tear went down my face and plopped onto the ground at lunch because I missed you so much" which is total bullshit but he knows that I love to hear it; a moment after, Ian handed me a booger.
Could You Demonstrate That Once More, Please?
Alex was in a creative mood yesterday: he told us how he had to call the police on Catherine's mom because she crawled under the couch and punched him in the eye when he wasn't looking-- "she sneaked up on me and when I was turned the other way she went like this . . ." and then he would pretend to punch himself in th eye, which we got him to do over and over by saying, "Wait, how did she do it? (and I think Catherine's mom was upset that he was making up this awful story about her, but we found it hysterical).
Food: Fuels You Up and Slows You Down
It took twenty-four minutes to walk to this really good (and really cheap) Mexican restaurant in New Brunswick-- even while pushing the kids in the stroller-- but on the way back we had to slow down because I got a stitch.
But . . .
Ian begins every sentence with the word "but" (e.g. but I have to pee, but I like this worm, but I was crying for you to get me) so it's like he's stuck in an eternal argument with everyone in the universe.
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