And baby makes Trey

This is my friend Jay and Katie's first baby, Hazen Henry Tuck III. He was born Wednesday and was a whopper: 9 lbs, 3 oz. at 21.5 inches. Jay is for Junior, so Hazen III will be known as Trey. Congratulations to the new parents.

Sound it out

Nicholas' aunt is named Shelby. You need to know that for this story.
Last night, when he was lying in bed and trying to avoid going to sleep, he began sounding out the first letter of everyone's name. First:
Mm-Mm-Mm. Mommy.
Next: Da-Da-Da. Daddy.
I was impressed and said so. Then,
Na-Na-Na. Nicholas.
And finally,
Ja-Ja-Ja. Shelby.
It was one of those moments where you have to squelch your laughter.

More fun

Okay, so the first day of vacation has been a blast. This morning, I ran out of gas. That wasn't entirely unexpected. Whenever I buy a new car, I make it a point to figure out how much gas is left when the gage reads "E." With the Ford, about 30 miles worth.
Then, I had a stereo guy take a look at the CD deck; I bought that part "as is," two speakers don't work. I was hoping it would be a simple (read: cheap) fix, but it'll cost a couple hundred bucks, he said. Guess I'll get used to listening to the left channel only.
Next, I got into a Christmas-season fight with my wife. Spent a half hour on the phone with my sponsor and went to an AA meeting over lunch. Those parts were good; the fight, not so much.
Finally, I just finished putting new brake pads on my Saturn, the car I'm going to sell. I'm proud of that. Now I just have to find someone else to buy it.

Vacation

Today's my first day of vacation. People ask me where I'm going for vacation. The answer? Not work. It's a great holiday destination.
I still woke up at 6:30 a.m.

Pre-emptive strike

Since this photo is going to be beamed throughout cyberspace anyway, I'm going to beat the shooter to the punch. Backstory: Today at work, a photographer mocked my pink shirt, so to respond to his unabashed pinkophobia, I put on a female coworker's fuchsia coat. The result was this ill-advised pose. Oh well. You saw it here first folks.
To the man police: I had to look up the color "fuchsia," it looks like pink to me. You can't revoke my membership.

Dear readers

Help me out here. Why is it fashionable to hate David Blaine? Is he the new David Copperfield? Why did we hate him, anyway? This Thanksgiving I saw this question repeated online: "Who's more despicable, O.J., Michael Richards or David Blaine?"
Now, I'm no fan of Blaine, but why is he in the group with an unrepentant murderer and a comedian now infamous for his hateful, racist ranting? I mean really. So Blaine hooked himself inside a gyroscope over Manhattan for hours to shill for the Big Red Dot. It was for the children, people. It's Christmas.

Who needs flames when you've got four-wheel drive?

Okay, so I balked at buying the flame-emblazoned PT Cruiser pictured below because after actually looking at one in real life, I realized it's just a glorified Neon. And after what happened, I want Nicholas surrounded by at least 3 feet of car in every direction when he rides with me.
Also, we had 11 inches of snow here on Friday, so I opted for the Ford Explorer 4x4 with anti-lock brakes and 15-inch tires. It's the best car I've ever owned.
Although, it doesn't have much competition for the title. I've owned some crates. Let's take a little trip through the inventory.
The first: a primer-gray Olds Delta 88 that had four different-size tires (all bald) and a headlight frame I reconstructed entirely from Bondo. Sticker price: $150.
Then I moved up in the world with a 5-speed Volkswagen Gulf that ran well until the transmission fell out of it. Sticker price: $1,800. Cost to replace transmission: $1,300.
That car konked out on a road trip to Champaign so I dumped it there and came home to find this beaut waiting for me behind a mechanic's shop. The only difference is my Chevy Cavalier had oxidized blue paint and the corner of every fender was busted. Sticker price: $250.
That Cav was trusty, despite getting in numerous scrapes, including the night I backed a wheel over the edge of a retaining wall. But the head gasket eventually blew, so I picked up a rusty Chevy Celebrity wagon. And mine was way rustier than the one in the photo. Plus the passenger door wouldn't latch, so a bungee cord stretching across the front seat held it shut. Price: $50.
By this time in my evolution of car ownership, I was 19 years old and working my first "real" full-time, year-round job. So I could afford a decent car, one that cost more than three figures. So I got this one. And I drove it for a long time. Price: $3,000.
So during the eight years between when I got my drivers license and got married, I spent a grand total of $5,250 to buy cars.
Since then, I've driven a Hyundai Accent, the now infamous Saturn SC1 coupe and a Hyundai Sonata. None of which qualify as luxury vehicles.
So I'm thankful for my new ride. I love it.