Archive for August, 2018

Obviously I Tweaked The Original A Bit

August 31, 2018

Today I defined diplomacy for my son as “The art of telling someone to go jump in a lake and making them look forward to going swimming.”

It Still Counts Though . . . If Only Barely

August 30, 2018

Some days you don’t “learn” so much as realize that you’re tired of (and from) making the same mistake over and over.

With That Said, Let’s Talk About The Importance Of Filters, Son

August 29, 2018

I’ve decided.  If my son’s school is going to keep asking him his opinion on what he thought of class that day, they deserve his unfiltered opinion.

For Me That Clock Stopped Yesterday

August 28, 2018

Did you know that when you injure yourself, a little countdown starts toward the inevitable time that a family member forgets about said injury and then accidentally inflicts a shocking amount of pain on you?

I’ve Mostly Beaten That Habit Anyway, But Still . . .

August 27, 2018

Yesterday while pulling my shirt off I also pulled my glasses off my face.  Usually I’m more careful than this, but yesterday I managed to yank them fully off my face.

Hearing the clatter (and being in the bathroom), I thought to myself, “Well . . . at least they missed the toilet.  Wait . . . why are they not on the floor?  Oh . . . no . . .”


As I prepared to “go diving” for them (as well as starting the hot water running for a post “dive” cleanse), I tried to find some thought to console myself with.

“Well . . .” I finally concluded.  “It’s a safe bet I won’t be chewing on the earpieces for a little while, at least.”

The Thoughts That Preceded Today’s Unscheduled Nap

August 24, 2018

I’ve been on kind of a task treadmill all this week.  Maybe I should slow down for–

This One Is For My Son

August 23, 2018

One of my son’s biggest gripes about school is their overuse of “motivational” phrases.  Even when he doesn’t agree with the phrases, he understands why they use them and what they are trying to say, but he also recognizes that some of them are just silly.

Case in point:

“Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

Yeah . . . I can see my son’s point here.  That just demonstrates a profound lack of understanding of the concepts of gravity and escape velocity, not the mention the logistics of lunar vs. interstellar travel.  If you’re shooting for the moon and miss, you definitely want to return to Earth and try again!  (Just ask the crew of Apollo 13.)

No Thanks

August 22, 2018

As I continue to explore the practical limitations of my current mobility, I do admit to finding myself marveling once again at how something as simple as a relatively minor injury can have dramatic impacts.  And while this is interesting to me, let me make it abundantly clear that I am not grateful for this learning opportunity.

As my Grandfather never used to say, “If you learned something from getting snake bit, then good for you.  Opportunities for learning can be found almost everywhere . . . but that don’t mean you’ve got to thank the snake for biting you.”

My Mobility Is Impaired. I Cannot Move (Without Pain)

August 21, 2018

Over the weekend while moving a small (empty) book shelf an inch or so forward away from the wall to see if anything had fallen behind it, I participated in an unscheduled gravity check.

Unsurprisingly, gravity still works, as proven when the shelves gave way and landed on my foot (primarily my big toe).  The shelves were only particle board, so I seem to have escaped with nothing worse than bruising, but I’ll be limping for a while.

But if you have any concerns at all on the status of gravity, I can assure you that it’s still working fine in my part of the world.

An Open Letter To Pretty Much Everyone I’ve Ever Known In My Life

August 20, 2018

Look . . . we need to talk.  Maybe we’ve talked recently, or maybe it’s been years, but there’s something I need to say.  If we spent any significant time together at all, it’s something I would have tried to say before at least once, but I may not have said it well,  so I’m going to try again.

If I ever told you that you were smart, it’s because you are smart.  The same applies if I ever told you that you were pretty/handsome, talented, funny, or any other positive trait I might have commented on.  I get that everyone has moments of self-doubt sometimes, but it bothers me if you start to wallow in them.  When you doubt yourself like that it bothers me a larger scale because I can clearly see that your doubts aren’t based in fact, and it bothers me on a more personal level because (and I say this somewhat tongue-in-cheek, of course) it feels like you’re calling me a liar.

Stop calling me a liar, damn it!