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MAY 2005 May 30, 2005: Two Reasons Why I Still Get Up In The Morning
I got nothin’ to say. How u like me now?
I caught the kids’ cold earlier this week. Lydia now has almost as much hair on her head as I have on mine. Seth can say “chicken nuggets.” I still have no idea what part of the chicken the “nuggets” come from. I also have no clue on why some posts attract more comments than others. [I’m censoring this one because it was both true and nasty.] Nice guys usually finish last. But I’m working to stop it. I’m no longer as cynical as I was last week.
May 25, 2005: French Impressionist
Allo, mes amis! Bienvenue to my petit gallerie d’art! Here is my first piece. . . that I call “Ze Cafe De Paree At Ze Bizet Charleston Street Cornaire.” I think it ‘as a certain, ‘ow do you say, “Je ne sais quoi,” no?
I h‘ope you ‘ave enjoyed my art! Au revoir, mes amis!
May 25, 2005: Who Needs The News. . .We’ve Got “The Simpsons”! I read Harry Shearer’s “Fake-Outs” in yesterday’s Huffington Post and it bothers him that, in Arianna Huffington’s words, “a big part of the daily news diet is made up of stories about things that have not yet happened -- and sometimes never do”. Shearer’s observation rings both true and ironic--especially considering that it comes from the man who provides the voice for Monty Burns. What passes for “news” often rivals the silliness found in a typical episode of The Simpsons. Let’s look at today’s “Most Popular” stories on Yahoo! News: 1. “Britain suffers sense of humour [sic] failure due to worries of modern life.” Well, duh! Who else would stage “MacHomer”? 2. “Man hooks world record 124-pound catfish.” The Simpsons did it. Second season, too. Not important news. 3. “Study: Kids Adopted From Abroad Do Well.” Wow! Our first newsworthy story! But, to borrow that line from South Park, “The Simpsons already did it” in the first season. 4. “Hawaii is world’s stand-in for Lost.” Ok. I’m invoking my “I love Lost rule” for this one, and I can’t wait for tonight’s finale. So shutup. 5. “Child population dwindles in San Francisco.” Hey, that’s newsworthy. How did that get in here? 6. “Plus-size instructor urges yoga for all.” This is a Simpsons episode waiting to happen. Can’t you imagine Homer teaching yoga? 7. “Woman calls 911 with pizza complaint.” Another variation on the old Bart calls 911 to report a Leprechaun bite joke. 8. “South China factories short of workers.” Hold on. . . we’re getting relevant again. What’s with you folks? There’s nothing funny about this. 9. “Car bomb explodes in Madrid; 18 injured.” This isn’t funny, either. 10. “House defies Bush, Approves stem cell bill.” This reminds me of the time I defied the phone company when I called to complain that it overcharged me and I threatened to cancel my phone service. And now for the recap: Half of the stories--and the two most popular posts--(when I first checked the link) qualify as pure entertainment. The more important stories (terrorism overseas, stem cell research and worker supply in China) rank at or near the bottom of popularity. Or, in other words, people seek the news that entertains them. Corporations, of course, seek the greatest profits possible. They also know that the more entertaining the news, the more profits they will reap. Entertainment, therefore, substitutes for the news. And I guess this explains why french fries substitute for a vegetable and The Simpsons have been on television for over 15 years.
May 22, 2005: The Adventures Of Enhancement Man
[Update: The original page with Enhancement Man is not yet uploaded as of 12/11/07. Mea culpa.]
May 21, 2005: The Godfather Cake We really enjoyed making this cake (new banner!) for Seth’s second birthday party today. It’s not difficult and waking up with this in your bed isn’t all that bad, is it?
Dear Oprah: I dig you. I dig your show. I dig your generosity to others. And I would really dig everything about you even more if you could lend me a hand. Please don’t mistake my missive. I’m not asking you for money, a free automobile from General Motors, or an analysis of the shape of my poop. I crave something much smaller, but, nevertheless, much more important to me. Let me explain. I absolutely love FritoLay snack foods. I know you do, too. Remember how several years ago FritoLay ceased production of a certain brand of potato chips that you liked? It annoyed you. You complained about it on your show. And your complaint sparked FritoLay to continue marketing your favorite brand of chips. I don’t know if you enjoy eating Doritos™ brand tortilla chips or not. Me, I love ‘em. I love most potato chips, of course, except for Baked Lay’s, the taste of which I find merely satisfactory. My favorite Doritos™ are the Smokey Red Bar-B-Que flavored ones. Several years ago, FritoLay distributed its Smokey Red Bar-B-Que Doritos™ in large bags (like its Baked Lay’s). But guess what, Oprah? My luck with snack foods and fine dining establishments has always run poorly, and FritoLay discontinued distribution of the big bags of Smokey Red Bar-B-Que-flavored Doritos™ soon after it marketed them. To date, I’ve had no success locating any 13 ounce or even Big Grab™ bags of Smokey Red Bar-B-Que-flavored Doritos™ anywhere near my home in Charleston, West Virginia. I’ve looked everywhere for my Smokey Red Bar-B-Que-flavored Doritos™ to no avail. I did find a “Munchies” mix FritoLay makes, but it looks like it’s only available in Canada and the package includes several other chip brands. Trust me, Oprah, as much as I love snackies, I’m not making a pilgrimage to our northern neighbor for some of my favorite Doritos; even if I did travel to Canada for these Smokey Red Bar-B-Que-flavored Doritos™, I’d still have to purchase several bags just to get a couple handfuls of the Smokey Red Dorito chips I like. And if I travel to Canada for anything, it will be for those good, cheap prescription medications we can’t get here in the States. Let’s face it. I’m a cynical, liberal-leaning plaintiff’s lawyer with a lousy chess game, an overwhelming mortgage, and two screaming kids (both of whom came down with colds the day before our two-year-old’s second birthday bash--which, of course, we now might have to cancel after having spent $84 on food and party supplies and my having taken a day off from work to help clean and prepare the house for guests). Did I mention I also live in a red state where the political agenda often involves using the poor to provide subsidies to the rich through the transfer of funds marked for social programs designed to assist the underclass? And, oh yeah, now I find out that I’m no blogebrity, either. So here’s the deal, Oprah. I don’t think it’s too much for me to ask you to make some waves about FritoLay’s decision to stop distributing those big bags of Smokey Red Bar-B-Que-flavored Doritos™ brand tortilla chips. You have clout, Oprah. You’ve done this before, too. You won’t alienate any Texas cattle farmers if you do this, either, and I’m sure FritoLay would appreciate all the resulting free publicity. In fact, you will also probably benefit from the publicity, too. And, of course, I get back my favorite snackies. Everybody wins! Help me, Oprah. You’re my only hope. Cordially, Hoyt
May 19, 2005: Lydia’s Six Month Newsletter This would be funny, if it weren’t so sad. (My apologies to Dooce for the title).
May 19, 2005: I Am Not The World’s Worst Chess Player But I’m close to it. What’s really sad is that I’ve played thousands of chess games, which include many on Yahoo!’s site. Over the last couple weeks, however, my game has experienced an especially painful decline. My blunders now occur as a matter of routine. I don’t think I could plan to play any worse if I tried. Maybe if I abandon playing chess my game will improve. I like playing literati more, anyway.
May 18, 2005: He Said “Choose Wisely” Consider this week’s “major” news announcement that West Virginia University’s and Marshall University’s football teams will play a seven-game series beginning in 2006. The teams last played each other in 1997, and it took the schools until this week to agree on terms that will result in a series of games. If you live in West Virginia you support either Marshall’s Thundering Herd or the West Virginia Mountaineers. There is no middle ground. You have to choose your tribe. And, in the words of that Guardian Knight from Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, make sure to choose wisely when you make your selection. Please permit me to explain in further detail. Remember that scene from The Last Crusade where Elsa and the Nazi dude follow Indy into the cave containing the Guardian Knight who stands guard over the Holy Grail? And remember how many frickin’ fake cups that cavern contained? And how the Guardian Knight tells Nazi dude to “Choose wisely” before choosing the cup? And then Elsa directs the Nazi dude to select one of the really, really ornate cups, and the Nazi dude drinks the water from the ornate cup, which, of course, we all knew was a fake because what self-respecting Jewish carpenter would ever drink wine from a designer grail, right? And then do you recall how cool it was to watch those special effects with the Nazi dude aging faster than a sitting President, turning into a skeleton, and disintegrating into dust (save Nazi dude’s Nazi ring) before the eyes of Indy, Elsa and the Guardian Knight? And all this happens before the coolest moment in the film, perhaps one of my favorite film moments ever, which is when the Guardian Knight turns to Indy and Elsa and says: “He chose. . . . poorly.” Well, I think that someone should have given a special Oscar™ to Robert Eddison for the delivery of that line. It was that perfect. I didn’t attend Marshall or West Virginia. As my luck would have it, I chose a college that has the dubious distinction of losing forty-four (44) straight football games. As for my choice of schools, wherever you are Mr. Eddison, don’t even think it.
May 17, 2005: I Think I’m Having A Mid-Life Crisis It’s been only two days since I turned 38. This sucks.
May 16, 2005: Crib Jumper, Back Crawler, Backpetal & Lowrider, LLC We’re starting a firm at our house. It’s not a law firm. Nobody--not even lawyers--likes law firms. You can’t have fun at a law firm. I’ve tried. The first time, they told me I wouldn’t make partner because I fraternized with the support staff. Well, of course, I fraternized with the support staff. With few exceptions, only the support staff knows how to have a good time. Lawyers may earn more money, but, trust me, the support staff has a better time spending it. The next firm I worked for offered improved social opportunities because my boss understood how to have fun. But that ended when I met my wife, and my former boss decided that my wife and I were having too much fun, and he decided that I should attend more continuing education seminars on Saturday mornings at locations fifty miles from my home. And that’s why I now work where I do. As for my current job, I love it. It not only offers me the most amazing opportunity to display my legal acumen, but it also allows me the freedom to develop my sense of humor. Seriously. I’m not making this shit up, and I’m not ending this sentence with a preposition, either. I LOVE MY JOB! And, if my boss reads this, he’ll know it’s true, and she or he (heh heh) will pay me that raise I deserve. We’re not providing legal services in the Glazer household. We aim to provide entertainment for ourselves because--with the exception of Saturday evening, when my wife and I dined with friends to celebrate my birthday--we never leave the house. Each member of the firm offers his or her unique talents. Allow me to introduce them: Seth (a.k.a. “Crib Jumper”): Seth enjoys jumping in his crib, especially to a song called “Cows,” which appears on “The Philadelphia Chickens” album. On Saturday, we replaced Seth’s crib with his new big boy bed. He still enjoys jumping on his bed, but we’re keeping his alias and The Philadelphia Chickens album. Lydia (a.k.a. “Back Crawler”): Lydia loves crawling backwards. What? You think moving backwards doesn’t qualify as crawling? I’m sorry, but it looks as if our firm will be unable to meet your entertainment needs. This isn’t Lydia’s decision, however. She would love for you to hold her while she spits prunes on your shirt. My wife (a.k.a. “Backpetal”): Backpetal is my womyn. She mows our grass--whether it’s my birthday or not. She also has a good attitude about things. She even presented me with a portable dvd player so that she can see the back of my head even more! I love Backpetal very, very much. Me (a.k.a. “Lowrider”): For my birthday, my mother-in-law gave me two pairs of jeans. I needed them, and they fit me well. And after my daily affirmations, by golly, I look great in them. What can I say? I have a great butt.
May 14, 2005: Madison Avenue Meets Our Mountains
Friday, May 13, 2005: Clarence Vs. Brandon (The Final Exam) Tort Exam Spring 2005 Brandon worked as an employee of a Frozen Custard Store in North Carolina. One day, while operating his store’s custard mixing machine, Brandon severed part of his right index finger. The General Manager of the Frozen Custard Store shut down the mixing machine, begin sanitizing procedures, and removed the affected bucket of custard. In the few moments between the time Brandon’s finger was severed and the General Manager's response, however, a drive-thru employee who was unaware of the accident, packed the only custard served from the mixing machine after Brandon’s injury into a pint container and sold it to a customer named Clarence. Brandon’s coworkers rushed him to Cape Fear Hospital while Clarence returned home to eat his gourmet ice cream. Clarence discovered the piece of Brandon’s missing index finger within 30 (thirty) minutes after the mixing machine had severed it. Clarence returned to the store where he displayed Brandon’s missing finger to the General Manager. When the General Manager requested Clarence to return Brandon’s missing finger to her, Clarence refused. He claimed he wanted to keep the missing finger to test it for diseases. Neither Cape Fear Hospital nor Brandon’s General Manager were able to retrieve the missing piece of Brandon’s index finger from Clarence immediately after the accident. Several days later, however, Clarence had a change of heart and decided that he would give Brandon’s finger back if it could be reattached. Assume for the purposes of this exam that medical experts will testify that an attempt to reattach a severed finger can generally be made within six hours. Assume further that Brandon’s fingertip amputation was the second time in less than a year that a worker lost a finger on the same frozen custard machine. The worker was found by investigators to have been negligent in the July 2004 incident, and the state Labor Department cleared the Frozen Custard Store of wrongdoing. Question 1: You have been retained by Clarence to protect and advance his interests. Advise Clarence as to all theories upon which he can recover from any other party and explain to him all defenses that are available to each party. Question 2: Assume you have been retained by Brandon to protect and advance his interests. Advise him as to all theories upon which he can recover from any other party and explain to him all defenses that are available to each party. Question 3: Now assume that you have been retained by the manufacturer of the frozen custard mixing machine. Also assume that you can bill at the rate of $175 an hour for your time for this client. How do you advise the manufacturer? Please remember to provide all your billing codes and time spent on each aspect of your advice. Question 4: This is a three-hour exam, and we’re going for the blisters on your fingers. Let’s change the facts. The custard shop is in West Virginia, an employee named Nick was operating the mixing machine, and a drive-thru customer named Biff received the frozen custard treat, took it home, and discovered Nick’s missing finger. Further assume that the drive-thru employee of the custard shop (Buster) held a grudge against Nick (because Nick stole his girlfriend and this was Buster’s first real girlfriend). After Buster heard Nick’s screams and watched the General Manager of the custard shop shut down the custard machine, Buster continued taking Biff’s order and procured a frozen chocolate custard for him. While several of Nick’s coworkers (except Buster) arranged for Nick’s transport to Overlook Hospital, Biff returned to the frozen custard store and presented Nick’s missing finger to the General Manager. And in this hypothetical, when Biff refused to return Nick’s missing finger, the General Manager (whose name is Randy) grabbed Biff, wrestled him to the ground, and retrieved the finger from him, which Biff will later claim caused him physical and mental injuries. The General Manager then took the finger to Overlook Hospital where doctors performed the reattachment procedure on Nick. It failed. Assume you now work for a large, heartless, nasty, and, of course, fictitious law firm in Chicago that has been consulted by an unnamed, imaginary West Virginia law firm that lacks the ability and talent to maintain the business of large, multi-million dollar clients. You also work for a despicable senior partner who delights in abusing his staff, including you, a junior associate who receives $175,000 a year for billing hours drafting memos in response to questions like this. The senior partner, who is married, has a hot and heavy affair with another junior partner, and he’s too cool to waste his time on you or on drafting memos, plus he derives great satisfaction from tormenting everyone because his mommy never gave him the love he so craved. This senior partner asks you to advise him as to all theories upon which any of the parties can recover from any other party and explain to him all defenses that are available to each party. And he wants it done yesterday. Don’t leave the office until you’re finished drafting his memo. Question 5: You’re still not done. Don’t forget to address proximate cause in your response to Question 4 because this senior partner’s clueless and thinks Palsgraf is a type of dinnerware. Bonus opportunity: Work him into your answer. Remember the exam instructions. Have a groovy summer!
Wednesday night means time for another new “Lost” episode. Still watching? I am--for now. Last week’s episode featured new material and an interesting background story on the character Sayid. Until last week, only one episode had featured him, and I didn’t dig it. ABC repeated it twice. I don’t want to keep posting suggestions for ABC about handling “Lost,” but after the recent clip show, I share the concerns of many who believe this show might falter. I don’t want that to happen. Here’s my humble list of suggestions to keep “Lost” from jumping the shark: 1. No more clip shows. Can anyone recall a great clip show they’ve watched of another show? Case closed. 2. A little romance goes a long way. There’s nothing wrong with developing a story involving love between (or, better yet, among) the characters. But let’s avoid the kissy faces, goo-goo eyes, and longing looks in these story lines. If I want to see that, then I’ll rent the seventh season of “The X-Files.” 3. More Hurley, please! I think “Lost’s” writers have this one figured. The Hurley-centric episode ranks as one of the--if not the--best episodes of the series. Hurley’s an interesting character and Jorge Garcia does an awesome job with him. If there’s anyone who deserves his spinoff (or is that castoff?) series, it’s Hurley. 4. And Locke. More Locke, too! Last week was a close call, huh? But after that clip show, I should have learned not to trust ABC. Using Swoosie Kurtz to play Locke’s momma was genius. You cannot go wrong with Swoosie Kurtz in anything. 5. Remember to use sun screen. Shannon looks fine in her bikinis, and I’m sure many think Sawyer looks fine without his shirt. But let’s remember that the dangers of UV rays exist on Lost island. The writers simply cannot permit the characters to display more than excessive amounts of skin without certain undesirable consequences. Do not take this to suggest that I don’t want to see Shannon in her bikini. I’m just pointing this out as a safety concern and for the sake of the children. 6. Only add characters OFF the island. Flashbacks provide most of my enjoyment in watching “Lost.” Flashbacks also offer the writers an awesome opportunity to introduce different characters as the show develops. New characters means using new actors. Using different actors allows for a virtually limitless chance to use guest stars to boost interest and ratings. Do you see where I’m headed? Of course, you do. . . . 7. No musical numbers. I mentioned “Cop Rock” to my wife. Her response: “How long did that last?” I’m still scratching my head over how anyone could believe a musical involving cops could succeed on any level. Did ABC believe there was a market for persons who wanted to watch actors dressed up as singing and dancing cops? I don’t think even someone who is a cop wants to indulge in this television viewing behavior. 8.Continue the philosophers. You have Locke and Rousseau. Now how about adding a Spinoza? (Not that “Lost” requires a Jewish character. I’m just sayin’.) 9. No Ted McGinley, Pauly Shore, or other silly guest stars. I wouldn’t mind seeing David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, or Dan Futterman (the other guy from Columbia College in my class who has good payin’ acting gigs) on the show. Feel free to pimp your site and/or offer your suggestions in the comments because today is official “delurking” day.
May 10, 2005: I Know I’m A Little Late On This One But It’s Still Keeping Me Up At Night (When My Kids Aren’t Screaming) Ok, everyone--especially my fellow West Virginians--raise your hands if you think you might receive a $26,000 raise this year. Wonderful. I think it’s groovy if you get more money. According to yesterday’s Charleston Daily Mail, at least one other lawyer tells us he’s all in favor of it: "Logan lawyer Robert Noone talks politics to friends via e-mail every day, but he says that the bond issue has never come up in conversation. "It's odd that something this important isn't known by more people," Noone said. "It's under seven weeks from now and people do not even have a clue." The 47-year-old Noone says that he would approve the bond because of his sympathy toward judges and their pensions. "Judges allow me to eat," Noone said. "If it makes them happy, then I'll vote for it."" Bob’s right, you know. People don’t have a clue.
May 9, 2005: Did I Mention How Cool My Sister Hilary Is? As much as I teased her during the 1970s and most of the 1980s, Hilary still loves me. Knowing that her older brother will soon be another year older this Sunday, she sent me this e-mail last Thursday: Hey there, I got back from indy last nite....my head is killing me right now so i'll keep this short. How would you like me to commemorate your 38th birthday? Please choose one of the following: a. Buy myself a present. b. Buy myself dinner out. c. Ignore it completely...if you don't get older, neither do i. d. Buy you a gift. e. If you chose d, please list item you so desire: __________ Thank you for your participation. :) I opted for “d” and told my sister to surprise me. She did. Today I received (oh joy, oh joy) the brown box from Amazon with not one, but THREE, count ‘em, THREE, gifts: Sister Gift Numero Uno: The R. Crumb Handbook. My father-in-law: What are you reading? Me: The R. Crumb Handbook. My father-in-law: What? Me: Robert Crumb, the counter-culture artist from the sixties, offers his unusual take on life. My father-in-law: And who is Robert Crumb? Me: You know the “Keep On Truckin’’ cartoon? My father-in-law: [Glancing askance at me now] No. I don’t. Me: Do you remember the Freak Brothers or those strange looking comics from the sixties? My father-in-law: Nooooooo. Me: Well, Robert Crumb created unusual comic strips, and he produced some subversive works, especially critiques on the media. My father-in-law: You want to read a good book? Me: Crumb is a good book. My father-in-law: [ And that’s where our conversation would end--because by now there’s really no point to my mentioning the effect of lysergic acid diethylamide on Crumb and his work now, is there? Sister Gift Numero Dos: The Complete Peanuts 1955-1956. I’ve sung my praises for Charles Schulz. Like Crumb, he’s another American icon. But he never took acid, and in the interest of equal time, I offer another hypothetical account of a conversation with my father-in-law arising upon his discovery that I’m reading the third volume of The Complete Peanuts series:
My father-in-law: What are you reading? Me: The Complete Peanuts. My father-in-law: [Guffawing even more loudly than he did in the Crumb hypothetical] Comic strips!?! Hahahahahahahahah. Me: Well, Charles Schulz’ “Peanuts” offers more than laughs. It offers post-modern commentary on America. His comic influenced generations of artists and writers. My father-in-law: You want to read a good book? Me: “The Complete Peanuts 1955-1956” is a good book. My father-in-law: That’s junk. Now “War and Peace”--there’s a good book. Me: I told you. I don’t want to read “War and Peace.” My father-in-law: How can you not want to read “War and Peace”? Me: It’s easy. There are too many other good books more relevant to me. My father-in-law: Oh, I don’t agree with that. “War and Peace” is a classic. Me: Yes, it is. But I’m reading Peanuts instead. My father-in-law: I can’t believe you’d rather read that junk than “War and Peace.” Me: I’ll make you a deal. If you read one of my books, I’ll read “War and Peace.” Needless to say, I won’t be reading “War and Peace” any time soon. Sister Gift Numero Tres: Fat Albert and The Cosby Kids dvd. You know what a perfect birthday gift is? The one you’d never expect. It’s something that you’ll really enjoy, but also something that you’d never purchase for yourself. This dvd wasn’t on my wish list, but what a wonderful surprise--I really dig Fat Albert and The Cosby Kids, and I’m going to relish watching the first year of this cartoon. Thank you so much, Hilary, for being such a wonderful sister! I love you very much. As for the hypothetical conversation with my father-in-law involving my viewing this dvd, I can’t imagine its ever happening. He doesn’t own a dvd player, and I don’t think I could convince him to buy one even if it included the complete “War and Peace” series on disc.
May 8, 2005: An Existentialist Critique Of The Hokey Pokey On the drive to our children’s great grandma’s house, I started singing “The Hokey Pokey.” That’s when it hit me: “’The Hokey Pokey’ is the ultimate existential song.” I mentioned it to my wife: “Hey,” I say to her, having hummed the “The Hokey Pokey” several times in my wife’s Ford Taurus, “’The Hokey Pokey’ is a very existential song.” I turn my head toward Melanie and give her a quick glance to determine if she’s displaying her usual reaction when I start to offer my zany prating on something. Yup, that’s the look. But we have another hour’s drive, and I continue with my analysis: “It makes perfect sense. Think about it. . . . The first line of the song begins ‘You put your right hand in. . . . Existence precedes essence. . . . ‘You take your right hand out. . . .’ We have the power to choose, to act. But our power to choose produces anxiety in the search for value and meaning, which results in the putting of one’s right hand in again and then shaking it all about. But do we really have any choice in the matter? Do we? No. That’s why “You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around. . . .THAT’S what it’s all about.” I wondered if anyone else had this same idea about the existential subtext of “The Hokey Pokey.” Then, after we put the kids to bed, I googled this. Hmm. Yet another reminder that there are no original ideas.
May 7, 2005: Only 12 Days Until Episode III . . . and the line for Star Wars tickets has now formed at one local theater. Make sure to get yours soon! And, of course, “May the force be with you!”
May 6, 2005: Professor Hoyt’s Final Exam Instructions Please place your books and papers under your chair. Write your answers in the blue book. Should you require more space, please obtain another one from the proctor. When making your arguments, remember to base your opinions on sound logic and avoid reliance on false causes (cum hoc ergo propter hoc). You are free to cite cases we have studied during the semester, as well as any cases you have consulted in your other classes. I have a good bullshit detector, however, and I will know if you’ve attended my classes or if you simply had your girlfriend give you her semester notes that you perused ten minutes before the exam. Your grade will be determined by your ability to convey your understanding of the material using the lessons and materials we studied, as well as my mood after I’ve consumed several packages of Nacho Cheese Doritos and a 2-Liter of Cherry Coke while watching “The X-Files” reruns. Good luck!
I love reading Dr. Seuss stories to my kids. I have no difficulty picking my favorite one, either. It’s “The Sneetches and Other Stories” in a landslide victory. When I was little, my mother often read “The Sneetches And Other Stories” to me. The book contained several good tales, including “The Zax,” “Too Many Daves,” and “What Was I Scared Of,” but “The Sneetches” always held my attention and resulted in its repeated readings. If you’re not familiar with “The Sneetches,” allow me to provide my sketch of the story. Two kinds of Sneetches existed on the beaches: 1) Sneetches with stars on their bellies; and 2) Sneetches without stars on their bellies. As you may also recall, or possibly anticipate, the Sneetches with “stars upon thars” flaunted their own perceived superiority over the Sneetches who lacked “stars upon thars.” The Sneetches with stars upon thars wouldn’t permit the Sneetches without stars upon thars to partake in any of their festivities. They wouldn’t invite the Sneetches without stars to their games on the beach. They wouldn’t even include the Sneetches without stars to their weenie roasts. . . until, of course, Sylvester McMonkey McBean arrived on the scene. Sylvester McMonkey McBean owned the “The Fix-it-up Chappie” machine. “The Fix-It-Up Chappie” machine supplied stars to those Sneetches who lacked them. Like any great entrepreneur, Sylvester McMonkey McBean charged the Sneetches without stars to use his chappie machine. And, as you might further anticipate, all the Sneetches without stars opted to undergo “The Fix-It-Up Chappie’s” “star-on” procedure. They gladly parted with their green, Sneetch dollars to Sylvester McMonkey McBean. (Time to digress: I don’t think anyone can glorify Dr. Seuss’ writing too much. He crafts the most amazing, imaginary characters and objects in children’s literature. Without his influence, do you think George Lucas ever writes “Star Wars”? You cannot convince me that George Lucas wasn’t channelling a little Dr. Seuss when he created C-3PO, R2-D2, Jabba the Hut, the Ewoks, or that nightmare known as Jar Jar Binks. A computer-animated “Cat in the Hat” would have offered a vast improvement over Jar Jar Binks in “The Phantom Menace,” but Lucas probably didn’t consider securing the rights for this.) Back to the Sneetches. Following the “star-on” procedure, nobody could tell one Sneetch from another. This result prompted the original “star-bellied” Sneetches to consider how they could perpetuate their elitism and prejudice against the former “non-star bellied” Sneetches. Capitalism in the form of Sylvester McMonkey McBean and his “Fix-It-Up Chappie” machine offered the original Sneetches with “stars upon thars” the solution in their quest to oppress those Sneetches they deemed undesirable. You see, says Mr. McMonkey McBean to the Sneetches, the “Fix-It-Up Chappie” machine can also remove stars! And the original Sneetches with stars on the bellies sacrifice their green, Sneetch dollars to Sylvester McMonkey McBean, enter his “Fix-It-Up-Chappie” machine, and have their stars cleaned off their bellies. You can probably determine how the story continues and ends. By all means, if you haven’t read “The Sneetches,” I implore that you do so immediately. As my dad would say, “You can get a copy at your local library.” Plus, when you read “The Sneetches” as an adult, you’ll appreciate its subtext on capitalism, elitism, inequality, prejudice, and race relations--which I missed the first hundred times that my mom and dad read “The Sneetches” to me.
May 4, 2005: Good News, Bad News Hey, Toyota announced it’s bringing 150 new jobs to Putnam County, West Virginia. That’s good! Wait, the South Charleston Stamping Plant laid off about 60 employees last Friday in Kanawha County. That’s bad! That still leaves 90 new jobs in the area? That’s good! Didn’t Mayflower announce last August that it planned to eliminate 375 jobs at its South Charleston plant? That’s bad. The Mayflower workers who lost their jobs can still apply for opportunities with Toyota. That’s good! Not everyone who worked at Mayflower will find a job with Toyota. That’s bad! But President Bush’s actions are moving our economy forward! That’s good! . . . . Hey, didn’t you hear me? President Bush is ensuring America’s prosperity! And don’t forget, West Virginia is part of America! That’s good! . . . . HEY, I’M TALKING TO YOU. DON’T WALK AWAY FROM ME. WEST VIRGINIA’S ECONOMY IS IMPROVING! (Hey, I found a gas station that sells unleaded for only $2.149!)
May 3, 2005: Supplies Are Limited, So Act Now While They Last! I had an interesting day Monday. I can’t discuss what happened at work except to say that I spent more time drafting e-mails than I did working on my cases. Believe me, I did not plan that. If it had been my choice, I would have spent more time on the phone, listening to people call me “Ma’am” and hearing them offer apologies for the “bad connection” or their feigned “colds” or whatever excuse they felt comfortable with for fear that they might offend my “fragile” male ego. NOTE TO STRANGERS WHO CALL ME MA’AM ON THE PHONE: I’M MALE, I HAVE A HIGH VOICE, GET USED TO IT. The highlight of my day occurred when I went home for lunch. Since Seth was born, I usually eat lunch at home because I like to see my wife and kids. Lately, Seth has developed a habit of hitting me on the head with his hands or his red Fisher-Price plastic baseball bat--whichever one suits his preference at the time. And Lydia--oh, my little girl Lydia, Lydia-loo--she coos and loves to spit her formula all over my suit’s jacket. So you can see that I consider lunching at home a vast improvement over my interaction with the public over the telephone. When I arrived home, my wife tells me that she needs me to sit at the computer and take a picture of my head. Why? Do I need to explain this too? Here’s the answer. And, yes, I wore the hat. Why not? I got to sit in my favorite chair.
Seth at Coonksin Park, early March, 2005.
Lydia in our living room, April 23, 2005.
The cold spell took care of these.
. . . and these.
Chillin’ with my girl.
Hangin’ with my boy.
My girls.
Smile, Lydia, smile. Smile, Lydia, Smile. Come on, say cheese. Smile! You can do it. Ok. I’m taking the picture.
My wife and kids. I didn’t do a very good job of cleaning the Progresso Minestrone soup off Seth’s face, and I couldn’t figure out how to use the timed photo feature on our digital camera that would have resulted in my inclusion in this image.
All written material copyrighted by Donutbuzz™ Productions 2004-2007. Seriously.
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This next one, c’est mon piece de resistance--as in “your resistance of my art-- it is futile” (ooh, I make myself go “hee-hee” out loud when I tell you this). I call it “Ze lithograph that I intend to sell for at least $250 dollars on the Ebay.com to pay for all of the bebe’s formula and stage two dinners.” You like? Maybe I should ask for more of the money?
D’accord, mes amis. D’accord. My final objet d’art. . . I hope you like it. . . I make it special for you in the Jasc PaintShop. It depicts the existential nightmare of all the humankind past and present in the world as well as the placemat that I often use when I eat my starving fella television dinners all alone after I ‘ave pissed off my wife. I call it “I took a trip to ze freezer and all I could find was ze old chicken nuggets and stale ice cream.”
For those unfamiliar with this book, how do I describe Robert Crumb and his work? Let’s imagine the hypothetical discussion with my father-in-law derived from my last discussion with him that arose when he spotted me reading “
