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June 29, 2004: Seth’s Dictionary

Now that he’s thirteen months and five days of age, Seth has developed his unique vocabulary. My wife is proficient in ASL (which means “American Sign Language,” not “Age/Sex/Location”), and she’s been teaching Seth some basic signs. Seth can now sign several more words than the seventh president of Gallaudet University.

Seth’s first “major” signed word was “light.” His favorite ASL expressions, however, are “more” and “milk”--especially in combination. Seth employs his baby variation on these signs. When he wants “more” food, for example, he takes one fist and claps it into the palm of his other hand. When you hold a conversation with someone in ASL, however, you would not imitate Seth’s sign for “more” because you’d be babbling in sign language like a baby. If you want to know the correct way to make the sign for “more,” I recommend looking here.

Seth loves to utter “da-da” and “bye-bye” as his preferred spoken speech. What can I say? He loves the classics. My mom tells me my first word was “ice,” and for many years I believed her. This led to my pride when anyone dubbed me eccentric. My illusion (that my first word was “ice,” not that I wasn’t eccentric) was shattered, however, when I checked my baby book last year, and I discovered that my first word was, in fact, “da-da.”

There remains no doubt, however, that, as a toddler, I stomped my pet turtle because--and, again, this is what my mom tells me--I believed the turtle to be a cookie, and I loved to place my cookie on the floor and stomp it. Lest you believe that the I-thought-my-turtle-was-really-cookie-defense sounds silly, you should remember that I was a toddler. And besides my mom didn’t want me to have a turtle anyway because turtles carry Salmonella. So remember, if you ever buy a pet turtle for your child, wash your child’s hands after he touches that turtle!

We’re confident that Seth won’t confuse a turtle with a cookie and stomp a small reptile. And if he did confuse a turtle with a cookie, chances are he’d eat it. Did I mention that Seth loves to eat? Ask him if he’d like to have some food, some drink, or anything edible, and he makes a joyous sound that I can barely transcribe as a “GGZZZZZZZZZZZsssssssssssss.” That means “YESSSSSSSSSS....gimme that cookie (milk, cracker, Dorito) NOW, DA-DA.”

We’re always happy to oblige Seth’s requests for food. But turtle soup will not be on his menu anytime soon

June 28, 2004: New Design

Today’s new design is brought to you by Jasc’s Paint Shop Pro 7™, the number 7 and the letter J.

June 26, 2004: Dress Your Weblog In Camouflage And Burlap

Some of you will notice I’ve modified the design of my humble abode on the invisible web. I would have done it sooner, but this is not my full-time job, and caring for a thirteen-month old boy, whose mother experiences horrible attacks of morning sickness, takes priority over my maintaining this website.

As you can tell, I prefer a simple design. Content interests me. That’s why when you visit this site, you won’t see any altered images I’ve made with my Paint Shop Pro 7™ graphics editor. And, if you do see an image, then you can safely assume that a virulent strain of “writer’s block” has afflicted my brain that week.

Judging a weblog, or personal website, based on its appearance is ridiculous, of course. No rational individual would review a book based on the quality of the paper on which it’s printed, its typeset, or the binding. And although the internet presents an entirely different visual medium than traditional print materials, I don’t think the design of a personal website should determine its value to others. I’m not suggesting that you should never judge a website by its design. In some cases, you can judge a book by its cover. For example, when I see Dr. Phil gaze at me from the jacket of his latest tome, I have all the information I need.

I suppose I could add “bells and whistles” to this website, but, trust me, that’s not going to change the content here. Actually, if you’re seeking a website with all those “bells and whistles” and interactive content, then I suggest that you leave this site immediately, and surf on over to Dr. Phil’s site. He has about a dozen photos on his front page--including four of himself--to complement his links to his message board, his books, his compact discs, his “I love Dr. Phil T-shirt,” his “I love Dr. Phil ‘Tri-Fold’ mini photo frames,” his “Weight Loss Booty Camp T-Shirt,” his “I Love Dr. Phil Night Shirt,” his “Dr. Phil Black Baseball Cap,” his “Dr. Phil Khaki Baseball Cap,” his “Dr. Phil Sweatshirt,” his “Dr. Phil Grande Latte Mug,” and, of course, let’s not forget--his “Dr. Phil Photo Coffee Mug.”

Should Donutbuzz experience a sudden surge in popularity, this site will remain commercial free for your enjoyment.

I also promise to spare you the offer of the official Donutbuzz coffee mug with my picture.

June 24, 2004: My Tzippy Is Not For Sale

Over the last couple years, we’ve managed to recoup our investment in Yahoo! Some might wonder why anyone would keep a losing position in any stock for several years. I’ve often wondered myself. But as the old maxim goes, you only lose when you sell, and had we sold our Yahoo! stock when it dipped below eight dollars a share, we’d be kicking ourselves now. Instead, I’m only kicking myself for not buying more Yahoo! stock, and “dollar-cost” averaging when the stock traded in the single-digits.

But even with its remarkable rebound over the past year, Yahoo! isn’t our best investment. Our best investment is not a stock. It’s not even what I would call a traditional investment. Our best investment is a toy we purchased on Ebay. We don’t own any Ebay stock, of course, and we didn’t purchase our toys for investment purposes either. But after this week, I may consider otherwise. Let me explain.

I love Maurice Sendak’s writing, especially his book “Where The Wild Things Are.” That should be evident from my “About Me” page. For reasons that I still don’t understand, my mother tossed the Max costume I wore for my third Halloween. A couple of years ago, during one of our many excursions to the local mall, my wife and I spotted one of McFarlane Toys’ “Wild Things” creatures at one of the toy stores. To be precise, we saw “Tzippy,” the Wild Thing with long, flowing locks, a slight overbite, and a stubby tail. Although all the Wild Things scared me when I was little, Tzippy never looked as imposing as the other Wild Things, such as Bernard, who in his plastic incarnation, still looks as menacing as ever. Tzippy’s price was five dollars, a ridiculously low sum for such a wonderful, plastic collectible action figure. I didn’t need to plead with my wife to buy it, and Tzippy became an immediate fixture on my dresser.

But Tzippy wasn’t enough. When I looked on her box, I noticed McFarlane Toys manufactured the other Wild Things: Moishe, Bernard, Emil, Aaron, Goat Boy, and, of course, their leader who made them most afraid of all--Max. Tzippy lacked all of their companionship. And I had to complete my collection for her.

We searched every toy store within a ten-mile radius of our home--without any luck. McFarlane had ceased production of the Wild Thing action figures in 2000. It was 2002. So there was only one place to look for them now: Ebay.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from years of surfing the web, it’s this: If you can’t find something in your garage, or at your local flea market, you will find it on Ebay. I know this because in the days before Ebay, I often pondered where I could find the original Mr. Potato Head set.

As any true Generation X’er born before 1970 can tell you, the original Mr. Potato Head set did not include a plastic body on which to place Mr. Potato Head’s facial features. The original Mr. Potato Head I had--like many of my other toys--required you to use your imagination, and use a real vegetable for the head. When I received my first Mr. Potato Head circa 1970, my dad also presented me with a dark, green cucumber and an earthy, brown potato. I gouged both with various sharp, pointy Mr. Potato Head eyes, noses, and ears, as well as the softer felt mustaches, eyelashes and eyebrows. No, it wasn’t the safest toy for a three-year old (even with parental supervision). But it was more fun than the plastic crap that now masquerades as a Mr. Potato Head.

One day during my work at a defense firm, when I became bored writing a brief in support of denying a widow her dependent’s benefits, I searched for the Mr. Potato Head figure I remembered from my youth. Not only did I discover several listings for the toy; I also discovered several other folks were outbidding each other for these sharp, plastic and nostalgic eyes, ears and noses. Possessed of the common sense I now lack, I refrained from making the necessary $50 bid for the original Mr. Potato Head figure.

When we couldn’t find Moishe, Bernard, Emil, Aaron, or Goat Boy and Max (who shared a box, by the way), I knew I would find them on Ebay. I did, I bid, and I won the entire set--MIB, or “mint in box”--for a total cost of $45. I took Moishe, Bernard, Emil, Aaron, Goat Boy and Max out of their boxes, and they joined Tzippy in a rumpus parade on my dresser. The extra Tzippy remained in her box on top of our bookshelf in the computer room. I made one more purchase on Ebay for a “vintage” Fisher-Price Sesame Street Clubhouse a month later, which I will address another time. (It was a gift for Melanie.) Neither of us made any purchases on Ebay for the next two years--until this week.

This week marks the third time in the last four years that I purchased something on Ebay. Yes, I admit I paid $72.99 for the out-of-print Disney Treasures series: “Mickey Mouse In Living Color, Volume 1.” My Ebay research informs me that Disney ceased issuing this two-disc set in 2001, and the set with the tin included has fetched a prices between $85 and $90--and as high as $150 last September. I love classic animation, and surely you can understand how I could not afford to miss this amazing opportunity.

After I purchased the $72 dvd set, however, I experienced some remorse. Should I have really shelled out that much money for two or three dozen Mickey Mouse cartoons with Leonard Maltin’s annoying commentary? Then I recalled my other purchase of the Wild Things on Ebay, and I decided to see what others were bidding for them. That’s when I felt better about spending the $72.

As of today, an unopened, mint and complete set of the Wild Things retails for over $100 on Ebay. One auction has a current bid for the set of $80, and it still has two days left. A seller has a “buy it now” option for the $100 set. As individual pieces, the Wild Things often sell for $20 or more. And, of course, “they say” that the rarest individual piece of the set is my Tzippy.

I suspect if I placed my extra Tzippy for sale on Ebay, I might collect almost as much as I paid for the entire set of Wild Things over two years ago. Based on the appreciation of this collection, I wouldn’t be surprised if the set sells for over two hundred in the next couple years. I don’t think I can say that for Yahoo! or any other stock with as much confidence.

When our children get older, Tzippy will get her release from the box. She’s a toy, and toys are for play. But my Tzippy is not for sale.

You might, however, convince me to sell you my $72 Mickey Mouse dvd if the price is right

June 22, 2004: What To Expect When Your Wife Has A Really, Really Horrible Attack Of Morning Sickness

Another Father’s Day has passed, and after reading a blogger’s recent praise of her husband’s support for her during her pregnancy, I harbored doubts about the assistance and comfort I’ve offered my wife over the last several months. “Honey,” I told my wife tonight over our cajun beans and cornbread dinner, “I think I’m doing a lousy a job of being a husband during your pregnancy.” “Oh, honey,” my wife reassured me, “You’re doing a wonderful job.” Then she reminded me of the infamous Arby’s episode last Tuesday.

These days, finding my wife something she likes to eat and that will not cause and/or aggravate her nausea is more difficult than Hans Blix’ finding weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. No food I suggest to my wife appeals to her. Last week, when I suggested hamburgers, she made what hip-hoppers call the “gas face,” which, no surprise, describes how she felt after my mere mention of consuming a hamburger. “How about Mexican food?” I said. She gave another gas face. “Spaghetti?” A worse gas face. “Chicken.” A twisted gas face. “Chinese food?” Fuggedabouddit.

But a nice salad from Arby’s sounded promising. So when we ate at Arby’s that evening, my wife ordered the Martha’s Vineyard salad, I had the chicken tenders, and Seth had some roast beef on his face, which did not reach his mouth.

Later that night in Target, sometime between the time that I picked up the store’s third remaining copy of “The Simpsons: The Complete Fourth Season” on dvd and when I noticed that Target had only one copy of the dvd left, my wife tells me that we need to leave the store--NOW.

Ten minutes later, we’re in the car, and that’s when my wife notices that we have only one empty Cool Whip container in the car, and no large bags. As a man who is not pregnant, I think one empty Cool Whip container is ample receptacle for anyone’s attack of morning sickness. I love Cool Whip, and I know I could never eat a whole container of it--much less fill it up with my puke. Boy, was I ever wrong!

How can I describe what happened next? Um....My wife puked into the Cool Whip container. And puked. And puked. And puked some more. Then, as calmly as I could, I rolled down the car’s windows, and said in my I-never-knew-my-wife-could-fill-up-a-Cool-Whip- container-with-all-that-vomitus voice, “Do you want me to stop the car?” That’s when my dear wife replied, “Please find a trash can!”

Next door to the Arby’s, where we had eaten, is a Burger King. And it has a drive-through with a drive-up trash can. I got in line, waiting a few moments for the driver in front to order his Whopper, and held the filled (to the brim, I might add) Cool Whip container in my left hand. Then, I moved the car forward, and dumped the container and its contents into the drive-through’s trash receptacle. And then I floored the car’s accelerator, which Seth found amusing.

My wife tells me I never gagged, held my nose, or complained. And I was actually smiling when I held the Cool Whip container, she tells me.

We now have several empty Cool Whip containers in our car. With lids, of course.

June 17, 2004: The Dan Rather Interviews Bill Clinton About His New Book Drinking Game

Dan Rather addresses Clinton as “Mr. President”: Take one drink.

Dan Rather refers to “Monica”: Take one drink.

Clinton uses the name “Monica” during interview: Chug your drink.

Clinton deflects a question and offers non-responsive answer: Take a long drink.

Dan Rather asks Clinton about Iraq: Take a small sip.

Clinton praises Bush: Take two drinks.

Clinton praises Reagan: Take three drinks.

Clinton uses word or variation of word “sex”: Chug that drink!

Clinton tells joke, and Dan Rather laughs: Take a small drink.

Clinton tells joke, and Dan Rather offers a blank stare: Drink all of your drink, and then re-fill the drink.

When Clinton responds, he has a smirk: Take a baby drink.

When Clinton responds, Dan Rather has a smirk: Take your baby’s drink.

Clinton tells one lie: Take one drink.

Clinton tells two lies: Take two drinks.

Dan Rather tells a lie: Take your partner’s drink.

Clinton boasts that his book sales will surpass his wife’s book sales: Eat some more doritos. And take a drink.

Clinton uses the word “evildoer” without laughing: Chug

Clinton remembers “Buddy”: Drink your pet’s drink.

Clinton offers nostalgic story about his mom: Take one drink (if you can swallow it)

Clinton convinces you to buy his book: You obviously don’t need to take any more drinks.

June 14, 2004: Attorney Heal Thyself

Last week, a physician from South Carolina proposed a resolution to the American Medical Association (AMA) stating that, excepting emergency situations, “it is not unethical to refuse care to plaintiffs' attorneys and their spouses.” According to the information obtained by Ralph Nader:

The chilling explanation by Dr. Hawk for this proposed resolution is that lawsuits against medical-practice mayhem raise malpractice insurance premiums "forcing physicians to reduce their scope of practice, relocate, and retire early." Therefore, he concludes, trial attorneys should be given "the opportunity to experience the access problems caused by the professional liability crisis," [and] then "perhaps they would be willing to help change the system.

Foolish as his reasoning is, Dr. Hawk expressed his honest opinion about lawyers who represent plaintiffs. Could you imagine seeking treatment from a doctor who loathed persons in your profession--and kept his feelings secret? As scary as that sounds, my wife and I experienced this treatment from a local doctor.

A couple years ago, before Seth entered our world, Melanie and I had difficulty conceiving. We had tried to have a child for several months, but Melanie had a miscarriage. We didn’t know what had caused it, but based on our research, we suspected Melanie had endometriosis.

Melanie and I aren’t doctors, however, and we decided Melanie should consult with a gynecologist. The gynecologist she first approached was a local doctor, who still practices in this area. I won’t mention his name, but I will note that he wears cowboy boots.

I didn’t attend the visit with Melanie, but I remember what she told me. After my wife told this doctor that I practiced law at a firm representing plaintiffs, the doctor’s demeanor toward her changed. When she told the doctor that she could not get pregnant, he told her that we needed to keep trying. Adding further insult, he then ordered a pregnancy test for my wife, which, of course, resulted in a negative result. And when my wife suggested her theory that she had endometriosis--later confirmed by my wife’s current gynecologist--he dismissed her suggestion, and didn’t order any test.

Had my wife followed the advice of her first gynecologist, we would not have had Seth, or conceived our second child. Fortunately, for us, my wife obtained another opinion, and found a competent, qualified physician.

I’m glad Dr. Hawk let everyone know how he feels about plaintiffs’ lawyers. I’m sure other men who practice law like me would appreciate knowing how their doctors felt about the legal profession. After all, isn’t a prostate examination unpleasant enough when your physician respects your line of work?

June 12, 2004: Eight Simple Rules For Dating My Thirty-Something Sister

I love my sister. Other than my wife, my son, and my mother, I adore her more than anyone else. And when someone upsets my sister, he upsets me.

So let me make a suggestion to all you nerds, geeks, losers, tools, and jerks who want to date my sister. Here are my “Eight Simple Rules” for you:

Rule 1: Use good grammar! My sister can forgive dyslexics. But if you’re not learning disabled, I urge you to learn how to use spellcheck. Proper subject and verb agreement is also important.

Rule 2: Don’t bother my sister if you’re looking for an “athletic,” “adventurous” “traveller.” My sister’s idea of adventure doesn’t involve bungee jumping, sky diving or hang gliding. For her, trying a new restaurant = adventure!

Rule 3: Don’t suggest anything European, k? She likes French and Italian food. Greek is fine, too. But, please, don’t suggest “whirlwind” and “Europe” together.

Rule 4: Don’t assume anything my sister says on the first date should make sense. When my sister becomes flustered, her speaking skills deteriorate, and she sounds like she’s reading a resume.

Rule 5: Be a good interlocutor! If you don’t know what “interlocutor” means, don’t bother. (Or use a dictionary for a change!)

Rule 6: My sister loves making jokes about everything. If you think she’s being serious, she’s not. Don’t let it bother you. Lighten up.

Rule 7: No touching. That’s not her rule, it’s mine.

Rule 8: If you’re not interested in her, or you’re not attracted to her, don’t get drunk three weeks after the date, and write her the following:

From: Major League Jerk

To: My Sister

Subject: sorry

it's been so long sice i've emailed. I liked talkng to
you reallly. But when we met at [well-known bookseller] I felt a
little star trek teck geek devide, no offence, and
there wasn't any physical conection, but I did say
i'd call you which was not cool. so I guess I'm
calling. word. I'm drunk after fri, night. sorry.
thats all really.

By the way, dude, next time you want to date someone, my sister suggests that you not lie about your height or lack thereof. WORD!

June 11, 2004: Executive Torture!

As much as I try to avoid political topics, sometimes the news demands the expression of my opinion. If you haven’t read this, take a few minutes now.

Six years ago, I thought I had seen Clinton reach what I call the “apogee of sophistry” during his deposition testimony. You remember it. “It depends on what your definition of ‘is’ is,” replied Clinton when describing his cigar escapades with Ms. Lewinsky. The logic contained in this memorandum of our government’s use of torture, however, would confound even Clinton. The memorandum justifies torture of prisoners as long as the torturers don’t have a “specific intent” to torture.

And what is the difference between “general” and “specific” torture? That’s easy! Whenever our government gives our troops some orders to beat the living daylights out of somebody, that will qualify as general intent. Whenever you or your cronies give somebody orders to beat the living daylights out of someone,that will qualify as specific intent--unless, of course, you can afford to hire Mark Geragos or Johnnie Cochran. Then you might be able to prove general intent. Especially if your name is George Bush.

June 8, 2004: The Obligatory Meme Entry

1. Since my last post, Seth’s developed his walking skills. He can now walk by himself.

2. We visited Melanie’s family this weekend.

3. Melanie’s mother makes a really good chicken. She’s a great cook.

4. I like staying at Melanie’s parents’ house because I can sleep in late, and Melanie’s mom buys extra bags of Doritos™ and Little Debbie™ cakes for us.

5. Seth’s grandparents love feeding Seth pound cake, ice cream, and anything else they’re eating that is not larger than Seth’s head.

6. Seth loves to eat everything except watermelon and anything on the Shoney’s menu.

7. When Seth doesn’t like aforementioned food, he spits it out of his mouth.

8. Seth now drinks whole cow’s milk. Seth drinks several bottles a day.

9. We may have to buy a cow soon.

10. Melanie’s father raises beef cattle and Quarter horses.

11. As much as he loves Seth, Melanie’s father knows better than to lease us the use of his cows.

12. Seth adores his grandparents, and laughs at everything his granddad does.

13. When Seth visits his grandparents, he often ignores Melanie and me.

14. I’ve lost track of the number of clothes Seth’s relatives and our friends have bought him.

15. No matter what he wears, Seth looks better than I will.

16. Although the magazine is free to new parents, I’m still cancelling our subscription to “American Baby” magazine because it refused to acknowledge how cute Seth is.

17. Seth looked especially cute when we visited Noah’s Ark Animal Farm this past weekend.

18. Noah’s Ark Animal Farm features a couple ostriches, a zebra, deer, two young black bears, various birds whose names I cannot remember, and a llama that lives under a giant KFC billboard.

19. I took a picture of the llama beneath the KFC billboard.

20. I’m not posting the picture of the llama because I don’t have the llama’s permission.

21. Did I mention that I read an excellent account of intellectual property and copyright by Larry Lessig? It’s called “Free Culture.”

22. I also watched Katie Couric interview O.J. Simpson.

23. I know several people who don’t think O.J. did it. Some of them are lawyers, too.

24. I think Scott Peterson killed Lacy Peterson and her unborn child.

25. I don’t think a jury will convict Scott Peterson based on the evidence and the reasonable doubt standard.

26. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when Mark Geragos spoke with Michael Jackson about his defense.

27. On second thought, I don’t wish I were a fly on the wall. That’s just gross AND stupid!

28. Seth often demands his needs now. When he walks, he will cry if I try to move him in a different direction.

29. Seth also enjoys pinching my fingers, and squeals with laughter when I say “Ouch!”

30. Melanie tells me I shouldn’t encourage this behavior.

31. I can’t stop myself, however. The cute look he gives me outweighs the excruciating pain of his nails in my skin.

32. Did I mention Seth enjoys roast beef from Arby’s?

33. When Seth plays outside, his body retains the smell of the outdoors. It reminds me of William Faulkner’s “The Sound and The Fury,” where he writes “Cassie smelled like trees.”

34. The only other things I remember about “The Sound and The Fury” are that Cassie was promiscuous and I needed to use the Cliff’s Notes to help me understand the time shifts and the Benjy section.

35. Hemingway may not use words that send you to the dictionary, but I enjoy his writing over Faulkner’s.

36. I wish J.D. Salinger had a weblog.

37. Ronald Reagan would look much better on a twenty dollar bill than Andrew Jackson.

38. Clinton would also be an improvement over Benjamin Franklin. I also think it would be cool to say “It’s all about the Clintons” when you use a hundred to purchase some cigars.

39. I don’t smoke cigars, and I hate cigarette smoke.

40. My mom hasn’t smoked in three weeks.

41. I hope she quits some day.

42. My mom had quit smoking several years ago, but began again after my dad lost his job.

43. My dad was the best librarian West Virginia ever had.

44. When I was three years old, I starred in a television commercial for libraries.

45. The commercial aired for almost a decade, and people in my area would often ask me about it when I was in grade school.

46. Somewhere in my mom’s house, there is a copy of that film and the accompanying record.

47. The song is called “Get It At The Library.” I remember the tune, but I can’t sing it because I have a monotone.

48. The commercial also featured a hippie running down the street. My dad named him “Easy Reader.”

49. Years later, I realized that “Easy Reader” was a play on “Easy Rider,” which was popular when I was little.

50. Some folks think “Easy Rider” has a happy ending. I try and avoid these folks.

51. Tonight, I hope to start another book, which is about competitive Scrabble® players. The book’s called “Word Freaks.”

52. Subcultures of people interest me.

53. Popular culture doesn’t interest me as much anymore now that everyone loves it.

54. Popularity usually changes things for the worse.

55. Taco Bell’s meat hasn’t tasted good to me since the late 1980s.

56. I liked Taco Bell when it wrapped the tacos in thin, yellow paper that leaked the grease from the meat.

57. I also liked the “Bellbeefer” Taco Bell served.

58. Taco Bell resurrected the enchirito. But I’m afraid to try it.

59. Doritos have fared better than Taco Bell food for me.

60. The best Doritos I ever tasted were the hot bar-b-que kind. The advertisement featured a female model with an umbrella if I recall correctly.

61. As I’ve mentioned, if there’s a snack food I love, it will be discontinued.

62. When I was little, I ate too many Doritos and threw them up. It took several years before I was brave enough to eat them again.

63. In college, my favorite Dorito flavor was “Cool Ranch.”

64. My current favorite Dorito flavor is “Nacho Cheese.”

65. I think Seth may have eaten a Dorito crumb off the floor the other day.

66. I often wonder why some many people who maintain personal websites write about their bowel movements and farting.

67. Judging by the number of hits, the most popular entry on Donutbuzz is the one where I use the “f” word.

68. People may protest about profanity, but the reality is they love to read it.

69. I bet I could increase my traffic if I talked about sex.

70. That’s not going to happen.

71. I reserve the right to use the “f” word in the future.

72. I also reserve the right to post that picture of the llama.

June 3, 2004: The Dating Game

I met my wife through the Yahoo! personals. Before anyone knew who Dr. Neil Clark Warren was, or even what a pregnant chad was, my wife and I dated, got engaged, and married. Almost five years after our first meeting, we have a son and another child due in November.

In 1999, online dating was not the zeitgeist it has now become. My wife was especially reluctant to disclose the particulars of how we met. Although I didn’t advertise the specifics of our introduction, I knew the prevailing attitude toward meeting people online was not an overall positive one. That intrigued me then, as it does now, because how or where you meet someone has no bearing on how that person will treat you. As my wife and I have discussed, Ted Bundy presented an attractive and intelligent figure to women he met in person. His appearance was deceptive, of course, and masked a monster. But the reality is our traditional comfort with meeting people involves meeting them in person.

Five years later, millions of single folks now use online dating services. It’s a billion dollar business, and it’s expected to grow. I know several folks who pay hundreds of dollars for these services. And online dating services are more accepted now than they were in 1999.

As I’ve suggested, online dating makes sense. The companies that sponsor these services allow someone to screen his or her matches. That provides more protection and comfort over meeting a stranger. Think about it. Is it really safer to meet a stranger in person, or safer to meet a stranger online, and then meet in person after an exchange of e-mails and ICQ messages?

Truth told, I don’t understand the complaints against online dating. Yes, some folks may impersonate others, or exaggerate or downplay their characteristics. But I think if someone uses sense, he or she can meet his or her soulmate through online dating. And Dr. Neil Clark Warren didn’t pay me to write this, either.

June 2, 2004: Thank You, Google

When I checked the search results for “Jew” on Google today, I noticed that Google now displays a “disclaimer” involving any “offensive” search results. As you may recall, I considered this topic a couple of months ago, which you may read here.

It’s nice to see Google address this problem. Although I’m still a fan of Yahoo!, I must admit that I still “Google” often. Yahoo! offers a better variety of free services, but Google is, by far, the best search engine.

June 1, 2004: Some Columns Are Easier To Write Than Others, Especially When You Write Like Larry King

I hope everyone had a great Memorial Day weekend. We celebrated Seth’s birthday with the family and ate the barn cake. That Seth is a class act, folks. He’s walking now, and you have to see it to believe it. God, I love that kid!

“Shrek II” is a wonderful film. I can’t believe how much animation has evolved since I saw “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” You know what else? I don’t understand why Disney doesn’t use “dwarves” as the plural. That bothers me. I think somebody should start a petition about this.

Speaking of petitions, I don’t know why “American Idol” didn’t permit William Hung to remain a contestant on its show. He’s more entertaining than any other contestant, except for Fantasia and that redheaded kid who can only sing Dean Martin tunes. That William Hung is a class act, folks.

I watched “Everybody Loves Raymond” last night. Since Brad Garrett moaned about his pay, the show’s quality has plummeted faster than my internet stocks did in 2000. Can you say “jump the shark?”

Why aren’t there more reality television programs involving needless, cosmetic surgery on women? I count only three: Fox’s “The Swan,” ABC’s “Extreme Makeover,” and MTV’s “I’m Having Plastic Surgery.” I know NBC occasionally has aired the colonoscopy of Katie Couric, but what’s CBS’ excuse for not having a reality show about somebody’s surgery? Maybe they could feature one of the “Survivor” cast members. I bet that would be a ratings blockbuster.

We went shopping tonight. Melanie’s morning sickness prevents her from purchasing a variety of foods. She got sliced turkey, peaches and a pecan pie. I got the Puffed Cheetos, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Caramel-filled Hershey Kisses, Little Debbie Party Cakes and Frosted Chocolate and Vanilla Creme Pop Tarts. And for the occasional lunch and dinner, the Chef’s gonna cook for me. That’s Chef Boy-Ar-Dee, baby.

Many people don’t realize that Chef Boy-Ar-Dee was a real person. His stage name was simply a transliteration of the original spelling of his name, “Boiardi.” I was really sad when the Chef died. His obituary picture was the same one as on the cans of food. That Chef Boy-Ar-Dee was a real class act, folks.

All written material ©2004-2007 by HEG