“Is That Fair, I Ask You?”

Yesterday my son observed that (to paraphrase) it seems like in this world if you do ninety percent right, people will focus on the ten percent you did wrong.

He’s not entirely incorrect, of course (John Wilkes Booth will never be remembered for his acting skills, for instance), but I tried to convey to him that the scale of what you do right and wrong does tend to matter. To do so, I cleaned up (in a sense) an old joke I know:

A traveler was out hiking one day and got completely lost as it started to get dark. Before he lost the light entirely he noticed a finely made fence leading up the hillside. He followed the fence up to an equally well built cottage and knocked on the door.

“Excuse me,” the traveler said to the old man who opened the door. “I hate to bother you, but I’m lost and it’s too dark for me to find my way into town tonight, so could I stay with you until morning?”

“Of course!” the old man said. “I don’t get many visitors these days, so I’d appreciate the company. Did you find me by following the fence leading up here?”

“I did!” the traveler answered. “It’s a very nice fence.”

“I built that fence all by myself, you know,” the old man said with pride. “This cottage too, but never got any credit for it. Do they call me a master carpenter, no they do not!”

“Why is that?” the traveler asked.

“You know how it is,” the old man said with a shrug. “You kill and eat one hiker, and suddenly you’re ‘The Mountainside Strangler’ . . .”

Well He DOES!

Last night I watched The Story of the Faithful Wookie with L’s Mother, and it was everything you would expect it to be since it was originally part of the now infamous Star Wars Holiday Special.

L’s Mother still loved it though, even pausing at one point to ask, “Wait . . . is this Mark Hamill‘s first ever voice acting work?”

“I think it is,” I told her. (But I was wrong.)

“Awesome!” she enthused as she resumed the video.

After a particularly stilted line delivery by Mr. Hamill not long after, however, I felt the need to unnecessarily add, “He gets better.”

A Blessing For The Current Age

May you be as happy as you appear to be on your Instagram.

I Think It’s A Southern Thing That I Picked Up Along The Way

Today it was pointed out to me (because I unconsciously made the distinction in a conversation) that I make the distinction between “family” and “my family.”

Now that it’s been mentioned, yeah . . . I suppose I do.

I have a large extended family (some honorary), and they are all family to me, but someone becomes “my family” when and only when my protective streak is riled. This applies to my immediate household at all times, but may kick in at the damndest times with the rest.

See You Then

My thoughts and mood are currently fluctuating wildly (a common response to stress or grief with me), and I question my ability to make the distinction between funny or just mean today, so I’m going to wish everyone well and talk to you next week.

And That’s One Of The Many Reasons I’m Proud Of Him

Today is the memorial service for my cousin, and I am saddened by that. My son (who never even met my cousin) is not.

Like I told him, I think it’s perfectly understandable for him not to be sad at the death of someone he didn’t even know existed before they died; the important thing is that he understands and respects that other people are sad over this.

And he does.

Some Good Things Are Like That

“You did a good thing,” I was told yesterday.

“I know,” I replied, sounding both exhausted and annoyed with myself. “But it was one of those good things that doesn’t feel like a good thing when you do it.”

With That Said, Let Me Look At The Board Again And Do Step Fifteen And See How This Goes

This is partially just because of the mood I’m in, of course, but board game manufacturers please take note anyway:

One of the reasons I probably haven’t actually played your game yet has nothing to do with finding the one to two hours you tell me an average game is going to take (though that is sometimes a factor); the reason is the one to two hours it takes me to punch out and sort all the pieces before I set up the game for the first time before spending at least an equal amount of time learning how to play the game well enough so I can explain it the other players when they all simultaneously have one to two hours to devote to learning a new game.

I know for you, and for many others, this is part of the fun, but for me the last time this wasn’t a nigh-insurmountable hurdle it was different decade (and I’m not going to say which one).

I Can Only Hope It Works Better For Other People

It’s not the worst thing about funerals, but I’ve always had . . . problems with obituaries and eulogies. Good and/or bad, they never seem to say what people are actually thinking. I know, I know . . . the formula is supposed to be soothing, but it’s never soothed me.

Rest In Peace, James

A couple days ago I got the news that a cousin of mine had died unexpectedly, and I’ve been processing that news ever since. We weren’t close either as children or adults; in fact, I don’t think we exchanged even one word between us once we were grown.

But we played together as children.

This candle’s for you, buddy.