3/28/2009

My younger son Ian's reaction when Alex went to swim lessons but he did not (his age group was all filled up for this session) was awful (but also kind of funny, just because he's so cute)-- he went upstairs, crept into his bed, and curled up in a state of abject depression; when I asked him what was wrong, he said, "I want to be BIG-- I want to be big like you, Daddy."

Warning Warning.

The warning for today's sentence may be unnecessarily ironic.

Irony Warning!

The meaning of today's sentence may not be what it literally says! Dave might actually be content with his monotonous life! The events that he speculates about might actually be happening! Danger! Danger! Irony!

Rinse, Repeat . . . Pretty Sweet

My life has been so boring and monotonous lately (get up early, practice the guitar, go to work, grade essays, come home, have a snack, play with the kids, talk to Catherine, take Alex to swim lessons, help cook dinner, drink two beers, watch half a movie, read for twenty minutes, fall asleep, repeat ad infinitum) that I almost wish something cataclysmic would happen: perhaps the world economy could collapse, or the ice caps could start melting, or we could have a mass extinction similar to the one at the end of the Cretaceous . . . but then I think, it's not good to root for awful things to happen and I should be happy with my mundane life.

3/26/2009

In case anyone is concerned, my cyst wound is healing nicely, because I have good "tissue granulation," but maybe this was just the doctor blowing smoke up my ass, because he also said that when this is all said and done, I might have a "stela" shaped mark on my back-- which sounds really nice, but apparently means a scar in the shape of a cross (and all I could find about "stelae"-- which is the plural of "stela"-- were definitions about funerary towers . . . thus the image).

3/25/2009

In these hard economic times, it is important to remember that there are two ways to look at any political issue, and it is also important to remember that both ways are most certainly wrong.

3/24/2009

The ticket lady cautioned us that the Imax movie Sea Monsters was a bit scary, and I thought she was referring to the acting-- the B movie actors playing the paleontologists were outright awful (since when does one paleontologist say to another, "You'd better get your tools!")-- but my son Ian took this more literally: he nearly jumped out of his skin when the Tylosaur came from the blue depths and swallowed the super-sized shark in one gulp.

3/23/2009

I am wondering just how angry I am supposed to get at my children when they do not listen to me; I know it's bad for my heart to get angry, and I know it scares the hell out of my kids, but they DO NOT respond to my voice (or my wife's voice) until they detect rage-- until then, they just don't think it's pressing enough to respond; so the question is: do I allow them to be run over by a truck or fall into an open sewer or get gored by a rampant bison to avoid looking like an enraged lunatic in public, or do I continue roaming the earth red-faced, always either about to yell or just getting over a fit of yelling?

3/22/2009

It took thirty three years for me to learn that Evelyn Waugh was a man.

3/21/2009

A student told me this story yesterday, and it was so bad that I have reproduced it here verbatim: "Last night at work, I met this guy and he totally reminded me of this other guy I know."

3/20/2009

Does anyone know where I put my banjo finger-picks?

The State is Never Right

If there's one thing I've learned about politics from reading Nixonland: the rise of a president and the fracturing of America, it is that neither political party is for states' rights: if a state wants to legalize medicinal marijuana or pass civil rights laws, then the Republicans are against states' rights . . . and if a state wants to make abortion illegal or remain segregated, then the Democrats are against state's rights.

3/18/2009

If you live each day like it is your last, then very soon one of them will be . . . if you live life to the fullest, soon you will be very fat (or at least that's what would happen to me . . . maybe some people would spend time with their family or repent their sins or do a lot of crack, but I have a feeling that if someone told me I had one day left to cram in everything I could, I would be most concerned about planning my meals-- I think that I would skip breakfast foods entirely, and instead have tamales with mole sauce for breakfast, and then go from there . . .)

The Wrestler: This One Hit Me Below the Belt

I give The Wrestler nineteen staple-gun wounds out of a possible twenty-- and it's worth seeing on the big screen because the movie is almost entirely visual-- the screenplay must have been a pamphlet-- and, I must warn you, it is PAINFUL to watch this thing-- you're not sure if you're watching the decay of a fictitious character called Randy the Ram, or if it's actually Mickey Rourke falling apart on screen: it's painful to watch him take a shower, walk down the street, try to read a book, play his own character on a Nintendo game with a neighborhood kid, work the deli counter, et cetera-- and though Marissa Tomei-- Randy's stripper love interest-- is naked a lot, which was one of the reasons I wanted to see the movie, she's not very sexy: she's painfully skinny, her face is drawn and tired, and, Like Randy, she's a little too old to be in a profession that relies on a youthful body; as a bonus, the movie is set in New Jersey, and between the grainy film and the Acme that time forgot (in Rahway?) and a scene on the Asbury Park Boardwalk, this story makes the New Jersey of the Sopranos look like Beverly Hills.

Two Reasons to See Happy

I give Mike Leigh's new movie Happy Go Lucky nine trampolines out of a possible ten-- it's very funny and the soundtrack reminds me of the opening theme of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

3/15/2009

We did a double take and then used the internet to check the facts, but it is sad but true-- the median price of a home sold in Detroit in December was 7,500 dollars . . . that's right seven thousand five hundred dollars, writing it out insures that you know that I didn't make a typographic error; this is what I propose: we all buy vacation homes on the same block and instead of summering in the Hamptons or Chatham, we head out to our Detroit porches to drink Mad-dog 20/20 and hit the rock-- not only will we be saving money, but someday Detroit will rise again and we can cash in . . . so who's with me?

3/14/2009

As my sophomores liked to nebulously state in their essays: Alexander Rodriguez and I are similar and different . . . we are similar because we both just had our cysts drained, but we are different because ARod is going to need six to nine weeks of recovery, while I played indoor soccer four days later (albeit poorly, and sweating copious amounts of wine and take-out Indian food-- it was no treat to cover me, I'm sure).

My Greatest Contribution to Western Culture

Edison had his light-bulb, the Wright brothers their aeroplane, and Ben Franklin his eponymous stove . . . but I don't think I will ever invent anything tangible . . . although I HAVE invented something incredibly useful, but it is a concept, not a thing: my invention is a dinner-time mind-trick called the "don't eat it" game; when you want your kids to eat something, you simply point at the item and say, very seriously, "Do NOT eat those green beans, especially not those three-- those are mine and I don't want you to eat them" and then you go back to eating your meal, and inevitably, the child will take the green beans you pointed at, steal a glance, make a devilish face, and then scarf them down . . . because it's fun to disobey; the funny thing is, now my kids know the trick, but they often still insist that I do it just because they enjoy it so much, and they eat so much faster if we play-- even though they know they are being manipulated; I know my creation isn't as valuable as the polio vaccine or the internal combustion engine, but it has caused me more happiness than either of those inventions . . . plus it's portable and very cheap to manufacture.

3/12/2009

My five year old son Alex told my wife that his friend Tiko said he "didn't like Jews" so they had an awkward and serious conversation about racism and prejudice, but it turns out (this was clarified at dinner last night, inadvertently in a story about how Tiko was eating strawberries) that Tiko has no problem with those of the Jewish faith, it is "juice" that he abhors (perhaps he meant O.J. Simpson, which may or may not warrant another serious discussion).

Kids Say the Darndest Crassest Things

I thought the youth of today were crass, but check out this tasteless gem from Rick Perlstein's new weighty book on American politics, Nixonland: "In October of 1967, militants marched on the Pentagon, sporting signs like JOHNSON PULL OUT-- LIKE YOUR FATHER SHOULD HAVE."