A few things...

--Tonight Meegan was hungry and she wanted to eat some twice-baked potatoes I made. So she preheated the oven, not realizing that Nicholas stuck a towel and a plastic bib inside. Now the downstairs smells like a burnt marshmallow. It's kind of funny.
--I'm leaving the jack-o'-lantern out all night tonight. I think I'll leave it out and see how long it takes before somebody smashes it. Right now it matches the dried, crusty egg yolk on my front window.
--This is what I ate for dinner: Cheez-Its, a glass of tomato juice with Tabasco and a huge brownie sundae.
Further pointless bulletins as trivial events warrant.

Snakes on a demolition site

Nicholas and I were exploring the rubble of a knocked-down building yesterday (Garrison School, Abby! Your grade school library is now a pile of concrete chunks). I noticed a garter snake slithering away in the grass. Of course, I began herding him around, blocking its escape routes with my feet, steering it toward Nicholas and otherwise pestering it. Nicholas was only slightly interested in the legless reptile until he got a hold of a big stick. Then he began poking at the snake with it, taking our level of wildlife harassment to a new height. By now the snake, who was only about a foot long, had enough. He reeled up into a coil and began striking at the stick. Nicholas was unfazed, even after I took his stick away in a pang of role model conscience. He kept pointing at it, watching it lunge toward him and saying "He's going to bite you, Dad! He's going to bite you!"
And laughing.
So I guess there must be a male gene for tormenting animals, since Nicholas already knows how to do it.

Now this?

A recent history lesson: In 2003, the World-Series starved Cubs choke in Game 6 of the National League championship, keeping their 95-year avoidance streak alive. The next year, baseball's other pathetic team, the Boston Red Sox, ascends the throne after their 86-year hiatus. In 2005, the rotten White Sox win the World Series and rub it in the northsiders' faces (which is well within their rights). Now this!
It's a cruel, cruel world.
And people say there is no curse...

Funeral

The memorial service for my grandma will be at 11 a.m. Friday at the chapel inside the First Assembly of God church at Mulford and Spring Creek. Thanks everyone for all your kind words in a tough time for me. Here is her obituary.

Road rage: Part II

Sometimes I do things on impulse. Kind of like Camus' Meursault: unreflective and sensation-seeking. Today it was just a kneejerk facial gesture, but it could have gotten me into a lot of trouble.
I was driving home from picking Nicholas up from the sitter's. After I crossed the Whitman Street bridge, I stopped behind a long line of cars at the stoplight there. There wasn't much space to get into the right-hand turn lane; I was blocking it. A blue sedan behind me honked just as I darted down it and turned. The driver must have wanted me to get out of his way, but I thought nothing of it. He didn't feel the same way. Instead, he drove up along side me and cussed at me from his open window.
Tough Guy's baseball cap was cocked to one side. I couldn't hear him -- my windows were closed -- so I gave him a blank look. What the heck? Then he shouted again and gave me a challenging stare. Now I was annoyed. I jutted my chin toward him and perked my eyebrows as I stopped in a left-turn lane. You really want some?
That was all Tough Guy needed. He stopped about 50 yards away (this was a four-lane street) and continued his unheard shouting, only this time he cracked his door and waved a rolled-up umbrella in the air. Gimme a break. Seriously? I just shook my head while I waited for my light to turn, but that only antagonized him.
Then I remembered my three-year-old son was in the back seat and testosterone antics were really the last thing I wanted to impress upon him. If the light hadn't changed at that moment, I think Tough Guy would have backed up his car to set me straight with that umbrella of his.

How much is that dog in the tiny glass enclosure?

Nicholas and I are always looking for fun things to do on Saturdays. One of them is taking trips to the pet store. Nicholas likes to see the snakes and fish, pet the bunnies and play with the parrot toys (I know, I know). I like to see the dogs. We played with a silky terrier pup, which looked like the photo on the right. I've never heard of this breed, but it's apparently a toy variety from Australia. Like many terriers, the puppies have dark coats that eventually turn tan. So they're better looking as puppies than full grown.
Anyway, the puppy chewed my shoelaces and jumped all over Nicholas, trying to nip at him. He thought it was hilarious. It sort of made me miss having a dog. I had a springer spaniel mix as a kid and my family also had an Airedale terrier. But as much as I'd like to have a dog with my family now, we just don't have the time to take care of one properly. Still, I can't wait for the day when we can get Nicholas one of these.

Rumbling

One of the perks of my house is that it's located right on a corner with a stop sign. Another is that it's located in not far from the ghetto. So while I'm sitting in my quiet house, with the rest of my family asleep and the TV off, every half hour or so somebody drives by in a boom car and stops at the intersection long enough to rattle the glass in my windows for a few seconds.
Sometimes I find it annoying, but most of the time it seems mildly amusing to me. Other people call it acoustic terrorism. I guess I'm not quite ready to go that far.

Goodbye grandma

My grandmother died of heart failure at about 3:30 p.m. yesterday. I just found out this morning. I'm glad she didn't linger very long or suffer much. I'm thankful that I got to spend some time with her, especially the night when she was lucid and responsive. Abby got a chance to see her and say goodbye, too. But I'm sorrowful about the whole situation; she died alone in a hospital.

Misery loves company

Tonight Nicholas got his big toe jammed under the bathroom door. You know the hurt: nail bent back, blood underneath it. He sobbed for a half hour. So now both Ghost and Bunny have Band-Aids on their feet because they too got their toes hurt in the bathroom door. That doorjamb caused a veritable massacre tonight.

Something in a name

One of Nicholas' great aunts sent him these two Halloween stuffed toys. One is a vampire teddy bear with fangs and a satin cape. The other is a Casper-style spook that says "Boo! Did I scare you? Huk, huk, huk" when you squeeze him.
Nicholas named both of them. The bear is called "Ah-Kah Ah-Kah Ah-Coo-Ka-Choo."
And the ghost's name?
"Ghost."

Cold season

We had our first snow here in Rockford this week. It was unusually early for a 1/2 inch of snow, since most of the trees aren't even changing color yet. And the early winter weather brought with it the colds and flu because everybody in my family has some case of the sniffles. My strain is the sleepy kind. I just want to lay in bed all day doped up on cold meds. We also know Nicholas is sick because he's docile and quiet and wants to sit on the couch and watch Dora the Explorer all day. And eat popsicles. Mmm... popsicles. Maybe I should have one too. I am sick, after all.

To my loyal Rockford fans

I will be on WREX-13 (cable channel 3) tonight during the 6 o'clock news cast doing the "Weekly Business Wrap-up." Tune in around 6:10-6:15 p.m. to catch all 90 seconds of me.

More on my grandma

I've been to see her several times in the past week and she's been improving. When I saw her on Monday, she was able to communicate with me, though mostly by answering yes or no questions. Her eyes are active and she can talk a little, but her speech is very garbled. It seems like she had a small stroke, but the nurses say that the blood tests they ran didn't show any signs of one. I'm not so sure.
A doctor friend told me that when somebody is dehydrated or having renal problems, they look close to death and she certainly did. But it seems like she's getting better, even though she's depressed and does not want to return to the nursing home. I'll go back to see her this weekend with my sister, who will be in town. Thankfully, Abby won't have to see her when she looked so bad.

Bad to worse

Today after church, one of the kids pulled a fire alarm, forcing everyone out of the building abruptly. As Nicholas and I walked to the car, I drilled him on what to do when he heard that noise: Go outside. My son will be ready for emergencies.
Good thing.
When we got to the Saturn and I buckled him into his car seat, I took off my jacket and threw it on the passenger side before shutting the door. As I strolled around to the driver's side and tugged on the handle in vain, I realized my keys were in the pocket of that jacket. And both doors had locked back up. (Stupid auto locks!) So there I was, in the parking lot, with my son happily restrained in his car seat, locked inside an uncomfortably warm car.
I called up Spinello's because they bailed Meegan out of a similar brain freeze two years ago. In less than 10 minutes, Guy Spinello (the former mayoral candidate himself) zooms up in his big Mercury, hops out, puts two little inflatable bladders into the doorjam and wedges it open wide enough to stick a hooked metal rod inside and catch the lock. He had the door open in 90 seconds.
I love that Guy. Guess he still works on Sundays.
Nicholas never even realized anything was wrong.

Road rage. Or maybe road irritability.

On Saturdays, I bring Nicholas to Heartland so his grandma can take him to the kids' church. He likes it a lot and looks forward to it. When we leave, we have to be directed by orange-vested volunteers because Heartland is such a megachurch that moving parishioners in and out is a complicated business. They insure quick movement at one exit by posting signs saying "right turn onto Perryville only" because it takes forever to turn left across four perenially congested (and uncontrolled) lanes. So today I go that way and angle over to the right side of street and stop to check oncoming traffic. There's plenty.
All of the sudden, a guy in one of those luxury SUV pulls up on my left. Now all I can see is the front end of his Land Crusher. I shake my head. I'm miffed. There's at least three signs requesting us to turn right. The line behind me is five cars deep, but none of us can turn until Mr. The-Rules-Don't-Apply-To-Me gets his glorified school bus out of the way. I'm seething. I sit back and wait. And wait some more. Finally, El Capitan launches his vessel out into the sea of traffic, sailing halfway out, into the median lane so he can wait for an opening on the other side.
I wait for my opening and go. As I'm driving off, I realize that the entire episode, the waiting, the anger, the head-shaking, etc., must have taken 30 seconds. Thirty friggin' seconds! I'm so impatient and resentful that I can't give half a minute to an inconsiderate driver without getting bent? And so, even if he's a dweeb, I realized I'm the one with the problem.
Here's what James said about it in his ancient letter to the Jewish Diaspora:
"Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness that God requires."
No, it doesn't.

Weddings

Today my friend Adam is getting married in Evansville, Ind. I'm kind of bummed I'm not there because all of my friends from high school will be. It occurs to me that every time someone gets married out of town, I have to skip out because of childcare, money or time issues.

Chili day

Meegan went out of town today, so Nicholas and I are going to have a man's weekend. We kicked it off with a Texas chili feast tonight, which we both devoured. Of course, Nicholas only wanted to eat the con carne part, which he did by picking each kernel out with his fingers. Bon appetit!

Giving up

My 78-year-old grandma is in the hospital. She's my last living grandparent. I'm not sure she'll make it, even though she really isn't in poor physical health. She moved into a nursing home this summer and got depressed. She stopped getting out of bed, stopped eating and drinking, stopped talking. She's just giving up. Now this is a stubborn old woman of Danish stock. Not a frail creature. But she looked awful when I visited her tonight, she's lost 40-50 pounds. She's jaundiced and barely cognizant of her surroundings. I held her hand. I think she tried to speak, but she just groaned. I thought I heard her moan "I love you" to me. I prayed for her with my uncle, who was there too, that the Lord would be with her. I am not very hopeful about her leaving the hospital.

Goals

Today I went to lunch with a coworker. He was talking about his career, where to take it, how to get there. We started chatting about making long-range goals and working to reach them. For the first time in my life, I have some goals. One is I want to pay for my son's college. That goal will force me to make some major changes in the coming years. The concept of goals may be old news to everyone else, but to me, it's like introducing a Neanderthal to the wheel. Unga, now me can get somewhere.

Milestone

My MySpace page logged 800 profile views today. But somehow this milestone isn't quite as rewarding as it sounds.