December 21, 2006
This will probably be the last post before Christmas. Tomorrow morning we pack up and head down to Norfolk. Saturday is daughter Robyn's wedding, and on Sunday morning the whole wedding party will be travelling back to our house for Christmas Eve and Christmas day, at least. Lots of celebrating, lots of cooking and eating, joy and all that happy crap.
See y'all next week.
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December 20, 2006
A few nights ago there was a murder up the street. A guy that I'd seen around (he owned a lawn-care business) was shot and killed in the middle of the street. Details were sparse, other than that he was shot in the back of the head.
This bothered me for obvious reasons, but mostly because it seemed so random. We live in a pretty good neighborhood. A robbery didn't make sense since he was shot in the back of the head. Drug dealing was possible, and gang related violence wasn't inconceivable, but something about the whole thing just didn't add up.
Until yesterday, when the local paper finally published their story. Long time readers may remember back in 2003 when we had another murder about six doors up from our house. It was probably over drugs, but the gist of it is that two guys walked up to the living room window and shot the wrong guy inside to death. Then they jumped into a car driven by a third guy and sped away.
All three were caught, and the two shooters are serving looooong sentences behind bars. The driver did some sort of plea-bargain thing with the cops, and did little, if any time.
You know where this is going, right?
The guy murdered the other night was the driver of that car. Knowing that, the story seems less random. Maybe it was payback, that's certainly a plausible motive. And in an odd way, it has actually eased my worries some.
Reap what you sow. Home to roost. Goes around, comes around. Those aren't just quaint, empty phrases.
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December 17, 2006
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December 16, 2006
Me: Honey, I just bought some stuff online. Don't look too closely at it. (she handles the banking)Liz: How much did you spend?
Me: One hundred ten dollars and change.
Liz: Whoa, that's a lot!
Me: Well, porn is expensive.
Liz: So is a trip to the emergency room if you aren't kidding.
I love my wife.
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December 12, 2006
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December 05, 2006
And then, one morning, I get this:
I don't understand any good reason to defend Walmart on philosophical grounds. Maybe if you own the hacienda you have the free time to think of bogus arguments to defend your villainy. Then one day the workers find other uses for the tools.
Now, I see several ways to respond to this. But the simplest is to say, "Fuck off, commie."
(Note: this was an old post that's been sitting in my "draft" folder for a long time. This morning, I'm in the mood to finish it.)
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December 03, 2006
Beautiful, isn't she? She's a sweetheart too.
We hope that her and Fred will take a liking to each other and become a bonded pair. For now she has her own cage and they're getting used to each other gradually, through the mesh of an exercise pen. Java is a bit bigger than Fred, and almost as large as our little dog, Trix.
Once Java and Fred become buds (they're both fixed, so there will be no little surprises), then they can move in together and then we can begin to foster-care for another bunny or pair. The animal rescue group that we're working with, Bunny Lu, does outstanding work and last year placed 105 rabbits in permanent homes. Unfortunately, they've got more rescued rabbits than homes, and it's just getting worse, which is why we volunteered to temporarily keep a couple more on an as-needed basis.
So far, so good. Her appetite is definitely there (she's eats a lot more than Fred), and that's a good sign. She also plays more with toys, whereas Fred is mostly the explorer type. From what we've been told, Java is somewhat of an escape artist and a jumper, so we're keeping her in a 4 foot tall exercise pen during the day to keep her from going up and over. Her and Fred and the dogs have been checking each other out through the mesh of the pen, and there've been no problems.
A year ago I had no idea that my wife had always wanted a rabbit, and now we've got two with plans to board more. Life is strange. If you're lucky.
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November 29, 2006
Where I work now, my normal schedule is cyclical. I have a very busy week, followed by an insanely busy week. That rhythm is broken only during the rush leading to the turnover of the fiscal year, with a lull - such as it is - until the rush at the end/beginning of the calendar year. This year there was no letup. The ramp-up started in mid-August and we haven't slowed down yet.
Professionally, it's been fun. It's certainly not been boring. Add in the many things that have been going on in our personal lives, and Rocket Jones has been neglected. At some point, things will calm down a little and I can get back to tending my little garden of inanity like I used to. Until then, this place hasn't been abandoned, even though the posting frequency is way down.
"Always leave 'em wanting more." Someone famous said that. Maybe Linda Lovelace. I forget.
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November 25, 2006
My idea, my photoshop (neither of which is all that).
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November 20, 2006
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November 19, 2006
But it dawned on me that this little wonder is the ultimate in lazy-assed remote control. Just record yourself clapping, and then you can play it when walking into a room and all your clapper-attached lights will go on. Oh, wait. They already have something like that. It's called a light switch.
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We had a good laugh at one store when the saleslady informed us that they offered "midget delivery". I cracked up, knowing that I couldn't have heard that right, and Liz translated the accent for me. "Midget delivery" equals "immediate delivery". Now you know.
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Across the bay there were the Oakland A's of Rick Monday and Reggie Jackson, Vida Blue and Rollie Fingers. I saw them during their year of the big mustache, and they were colorful even without the kelly and gold uniforms. I saw Rod Carew, Tony Oliva and Harmon Killebrew when the Twins came to town.
On the lower pantheon of legends were Charlie O'Connell, Joanie Weston, Ann Calvello and Alvin Mallory of Roller Derby fame. Do a little googling, and then tell me those guys (and gals) weren't amazing.
Back in SF was Joe Montana and Jerry Rice (after a long and painful drought when the Niner's weren't very good) and Darryl Lamonica, George Blanda and Ken Stabler (to name only the QBs in silver and black) led an always entertaining cast of misfits and characters which existed as one of the most successful sports stories for almost three decades.
Now living in the Washington D.C. metro area, we've had the treat of seeing Michael Jordan in his post-Bulls days. Still legendary, and although diminished it wasn't enough to tarnish the career.
Baltimore offered us Cal Ripken and Eddie Murray, both of whom I shall tell my grandchildren about.
And now, much like those fortunate enough to live in Edmonton during Gretzgy's reign, or Pittsburgh while Mario was on the ice in his prime (or the Steelers during the *spit* "Steel Curtain" *spit* years), I have the opportunity to see a very rare talent in action. I got to see Alex Ovechkin play hockey for the Washington Capitals live last year, and countless times on local television. Folks, if he comes to town, take advantage and see this kid play. Amazing, and it's not hype to say that he belongs with the legendary names mentioned above.
I need to snag tickets for the Caps/Penguins for the chance to see Ovechkin and Semin, Crosby and Malkin playing all at once. That's one for the ages, and happens not too rarely thanks to hockey scheduling.
For the record, I dislike Sydney Crosby for no real reason other than the fact that the NHL handed him the throne before he played a single minute on the big ice. He's earning star status, but not *the* star, and I find it hilarious that he's been referred to as "Captain of the Canadian Diving Team". Hopefully, he'll be whistled for some penalties that will disabuse him of that shoddy habit, but I worry that "the star" will come to expect calls to go his way as he tries to draw penalties. Anyway, he's exciting to watch and a genuine talent and I don't like him. Maybe I'll mellow in time, but I'll for sure go to see him while I have the chance.
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November 12, 2006
That's the good.
On Friday, the kitchen floor people came out and removed the new floor that they had botched. Somehow, somewhy, when they moved the stove to get at the floor underneath, instead of removing the temperature probe from the oven, they took the readout from the counter and tossed it inside. That night, I went to preheat the oven and was almost overcome from the fumes as that plastic readout unit melted and made a huge mess in the bottom of my brand new oven. A half hour of scraping and scrubbing got it out, but I was *not* a happy camper.
Yesterday the subfloor guy showed up to fix the problem that contributed to the screwed up installation of the floor. He had given me a ballpark estimate of the cost based on what we could tell him because he didn't want to cut the floor up ahead of time. He was concerned that with Liz on a cane, it would leave him open to liability if she tripped on it. He came highly recommended by several people, and I was prepared to fork over the top end of his estimate, while hoping it would be closer to the low end.
No such luck. After an hour of looking at what needed to be done, I finally asked what it would cost to do the job right (instead of the cheaper mickey-mouse alternatives that we'd been discussing). I knew what really needed to be done, but he didn't want to have to say it.
Ouch.
Well, it's done. It's beautiful, as much as a sub-floor can be beautiful. He was a craftsman, as carpenters go, and in the end the new floor will be better for it. Tomorrow the kitchen people show up again and install the new floor. That part of it (removal and install new) is free for us, because they goofed the original. Liz will be watching like a hawk, because she's still pissed that it had to be redone. Plus, now she knows what a good job should look like.
So we've spent our 3-day weekend with more contractors making a mess in the house, and spent way more money than was originally planned, but that's ok. Robyn's wedding dress is absolutely beautiful, and Liz is gorgeous in her new dress.
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My wife has two shelves for her various bottles. My son has a shelf with two bottles. Rachael has a shelf with multiple bottles, even though she's away at school. I have a single shelf, with a single bottle of shampoo. The dogs have a single shelf, with a single bottle of shampoo.
Means nothing, but I'm glad that the dog's shelf and mine are nowhere near each other, lest some half-awake morning I wind up citrus fresh and flea-free.
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November 10, 2006
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November 06, 2006
You want to hunt deer? Here's my suggestion: take the bullet, slow it down to 55mph and put headlights and a horn on it, and I promise you, the danged deer will jump in front of it.
I think he's on to something.
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November 05, 2006
Whew, where to start? It's been busy busy busy lately. Here's a suggestion, if you meet someone who works in your payroll group, and you've been paid lately, buy them lunch or give 'em a hug or oral sex or something. Trust me, these folks have earned it!
On the home front, Liz just got back yesterday from a week in Norfolk with oldest daughter Robyn. My life has consisted of work, coming home and cooking, and then falling asleep in front of a hockey game or one of my beloved crappy horror movies. It isn't often that it takes me three evenings to finish watching an hour and a half movie.
Not much beyond that, I guess. Too busy to blog. Too busy to *write*! My NaNoWriMo ambitions this year were completely wiped out by about 9am on November 1st. I do hope to still do some work for the Giant Evil Space Robots anthology (is that still on?).
So hang in there, and I'm doing the same. Posting will resume on a regular basis just as soon as the lithium kicks in as is practical. I've been surfing a bit and reading y'all, if you don't notice, it's because I wipe my feet before coming in. Mama taught me right.
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October 23, 2006
At some point the goofy mutt took a snap at the scissors as Liz worked, and got his tongue cut. Bled like hell for a while, and he drove Liz crazy as he wanted to give himself a bath, leaving himself a bloody mess.
That was all done and over with by the time I got home, or so we thought. As I cooked dinner, I looked down at the dogs and saw Trix sitting there in a puddle of smeared blood, one paw looking half chewed off. Once again, his "bath" opened the wound and he recreated the "bucket at the prom" scene from Carrie.
We've got brand new carpet in the house, remember?
I snatched him up like a football and scrubbed like hell with a dishrag to clean him up as best I could. Then I took him upstairs into Liz's sewing room where he doesn't mind hanging out, is gated to keep the rabbit in, and has old carpet on the floor.
When he kisses you, he smells like blood.
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