March 23, 2012

Are We There Yet??

By Simon

Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Weak

This morning I had the pleasurable experience of getting caught in a traffic jam when the interstate I was on was closed due to an accident.  I take these kind of things in stride fairly well but this particular bit of traffic put me in park sitting completely still for 68 minutes.  It was raining and I was in the left lane boxed in by two large trucks.

Lately I have been adhering to all of the health advice out there about staying hydrated and drinking plenty of water.  At minute 55 of the traffic standstill I realized some sort of action needed to be taken and I did not have extra pants.  Below is a picture of the emergency urinal I constructed.  Luckily upon completion of the build traffic began to move and I found relief at a nearby service station.  If you are interested in helping me patent this object please let me know.

Getting stuck in traffic is completely weak.

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March 21, 2012

When Did Giving You Money Stop Being Enough?

By Simon

Sweet

100 % More Country Stats 

About a month ago WordPress launched a new blog statistics page that shows the country that the click to view your blog originated.  If I am representative of many new bloggers, we begin writing because we have a creative side that needs to get out or have something funny or interesting to say and keyboards rarely interrupt or doze off in the middle of our diatribe.  Then in some mysterious way we kind of get sucked in to who is reading our stuff and even resort to surfing around other blogs leaving lame comments in hopes that they will return the favor.  Honestly I have only heard of that method of generating new readers.  I have never tried it myself.

I will be the first to admit though, that knowing people are reading your blog or even winding up there on accident because they Googled the word squatchy is pretty sweet.  For a certain period of time we get sucked into the statistics page and even neglect things we once held so dear like Facebook to see if anyone new has stopped by to read our nonsense.  I think it is a phase that we bloggers mature out of and realize that the reason we started a blog wasn’t to win a Shorty award or turn our blog into a NY Times bestseller.  We hold onto the dream of one day being Freshly Pressed but for the most part go back to our roots and write because we have things to say, not because we want to pump up our stat bar.

That was me, a happy maturing blogger that had gotten over my stats obsession and had shifted focus to writing what I wanted to write and enjoying the community of readers and fellow writers out that make the blogging process so rewarding.

There timing was impeccable.  Just as I had situated myself on the high road and stopped measuring my self -worth with my blog stats, WordPress showed me a page full of awesome little flag icons that tell me all of the places in the world my blog has popped up on a screen.  Just like that, I am sucked right back in.  I don’t have a huge map in my office that I put thumbtacks in every time I see a new country or anything, but based on the stats page this blog has been either viewed or accidentally stumbled upon in 57 different countries since the new feature started.  It probably seems silly to most people but if I see that 4 or more people in Paraguay clicked on my blog I decide it wasn’t an accident and I think it is pretty sweet.

This may be the closest I ever get to a glamorous life of international travel and I am OK with that.  So if you are reading this today or randomly landed here after Googling “ideas to disguise a TV remote” (true story) Where ya from?

Weak

What Happened to “Here’s your Receipt, Have a Nice Day.” 

Have you bought anything lately?  I am not sure exactly when it happened but it now seems like every transaction concludes with me getting a to do list.  I just gave you money.  When did that become not enough?  Here is the thing, I don’t want to be entered in your sweepstakes. I don’t have time to go home and spend two hours filling our surveys for every store I walked into at the mall today.  I am not going to go to this website and make sure I rate your service excellent just because you told me to.  I have stuff to do like spend 30 minutes thinking up back stories to who is reading my blog in Morocco.

Is it too much to ask to go back to the way things were?  Are people doing this?  Are people actually winning a $1000 gift certificate to Lens Crafters?  If I call the cable company because my favorite show Happy Endings isn’t coming in clear do I get to talk to a real person faster if I agree to the short 5 minute survey at the conclusion of this call?  I get it, in today’s world of business buzzwords, every single breath we take needs to be measured and the results quantified.  Somehow, some out of touch with reality power point slide has trickled all the way down to me standing in Sears pretending to listen to your spiel waiting for you to let me go so we can finally do something fun and get free samples in the food court.  If my opinion is really that valuable to you can’t you just install one of those Facebook “like” buttons next to your cash register?  I would happily take a second of my time to high-five a blue glowing thumbs up button if I knew I wouldn’t have to take home a four foot long receipt with different sections circled and your name scrawled across the bottom in a plea for me to rate you excellent.

If you work in retail you probably hate this more that I do and I truly empathize with you.  Getting a sales pitch, a guilt trip, a chore list, and a pocket full of paper when all I wanted to do was buy socks is totally weak.

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March 13, 2012

Finding Your Inner Strength

By Simon

Sweet & Weak

Roughing it

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and you have to dig deep inside to muster the strength to go on and overcome sudden hardship.  It is in those times, when situations look hopeless, that families can find a way to come together and triumph.  With gritty determination, teamwork, and good old fashion gumption, my family came out on top this morning smelling like vanilla.  That’s right, vanilla.  That is because this morning’s metaphorical Everest was a 5:55 power outage and we held on tight and reached the summit together by 6:30 thanks to flashlight apps on our phones and a cabinet filled with half burned scented candles.

I will not make light of it (horrible pun), it is a difficult thing to look into your child’s eyes and explain to her that “No sweetie, I can’t turn on a kid show while we finish getting ready.”  With holiday scents released from our flickering light sources wafting through our humble abode, my brave little girl found the strength to occupy her time by sitting in the dark playing Angry Birds on the iPad.  She was scared and didn’t understand why the sink would work but the lights were dead.  It is in moments like this that a parent can take advantage of a real learning opportunity and share a pint of ice cream with his little ones for breakfast, explaining what life was like for people long ago.

I was truly proud of the resourcefulness  exhibited this morning as we made the best of things.  Make-up was applied by candle light and moose and hairspray saved the day as the flat-iron lied impotent on the counter.  Lunches were packed and coffee was replaced with caffeinated soda (even if it was a hard pill to swallow realizing the refrigerator wouldn’t drop the ice directly into our cups and we had to scoop it out with our bare hands).  Our problem solving was at its zenith as we continued to find a way where there seemed to be no way.  Garage door openers were pushed out of habit and the fear of our cars being stuck was quickly washed away as we remembered to pull down on the red hangy down thing to open the garage manually.  In a stroke of luck we even knew where a key was to our house so we were able to lock up behind ourselves to hopefully protect our possessions once the inevitable looting began.

As we drove down the streets of our dark subdivision you couldn’t help but feel a sense of community as parents escorted their kids to the bus stops flashlights in hand.  Somehow we all managed to make it out alive.  It may have taken longer to update our statuses relying solely on 3G instead of wi-fi, but we did it and we learned a few things along the way.  I like to think that our forefathers would have been proud of us this morning for pulling up our bootstraps and exhibiting the kind of determination this great country was founded upon.  In fact, I could hardly wait to share our story of overcoming hardship and roughing it like a real pioneer as soon as I got to Starbucks.

Sometimes a morning that starts off pretty weak has a way of turning out sweet after all.

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March 12, 2012

Some People Don’t Have to Search for Their Inner Child

By Simon

Sweet

via wookieepedia

Being a Kid at any Age

I will be 34 years old later this month.  Perception of that age lies solely in the beholder as I am still a spring chicken to many and old man river to others.  I don’t have any issue with getting older and have been sporting that distinguished salt and pepper look for close to a decade now.  One of the reasons I don’t worry about getting older is because by now I have realized that there is a part of me that remains a perpetual child.  I do my fair share of grownup stuff like pay bills and taxes and schedule parent teacher conferences but even in a deep-sea of responsibility I cannot escape certain Peter Pan type tendencies.  I don’t do these things as a concerted effort to “stay young at heart” but I know that they probably help.  Here are some of the ways my inner child escapes no matter how old I get.

  • If I stop at the grocery store on my way home from work I still get the kid cart with the race car because, hello? race car!
  • Though not often down south, if I am ever driving and it starts to snow, I pretend I am taking the Millennium Falcon into hyper-space.
  • The only downside to two daughters is toy shopping, that’s OK though, I bought a suction cup dart blow gun last week that is suuweet!
  • BOO! If given the chance, I will always lurk in the shadows so I can scare you when you walk in.  Then you will slightly pee yourself and I will crack up.
  • Race Ya.  To the mailbox, folding laundry, cleaning up toys, I am always up for a good race.
  • Chasing the ice cream truck.  This is way less embarrassing now that I have kids with me but one day I will be frantically searching for loose change in my room at the home when I hear that thing rolling up the street.
  • Licking the spoon. (no explanation needed)

I could go on and on because to be honest I still probably do more kid things than grown up things but I will start the list with these and let you add your tips on staying young and feeding your inner kiddo.  I once had a dream I was licking frosting off of the mixing spoon when I heard the ice cream truck coming down the street, I looked at my wife and she said “race ya” and it was totally sweet.

How do you keep from growing up?

 

Weak

I didn’t Know That was There Until it Hurt So Bad 

via someecards

Man, I am getting old.  I know this because after working in the yard all day yesterday it hurts to type.  Yeah you read that right, my hands are sore.  As much as I may be a perpetual kid inside, there is no mistaking the fact that the new car smell has worn off and some of the features of this thing don’t work like they used to.  I often joke about the 20-year-old me shaking his head in disappointment if he heard some of the things I say or think today.  For example, I now place real value on something called a good night’s sleep.  There is no escaping it, somewhere inside of me is a cardigan sweater, the faint smell of Ben Gay and the desire to cut out things from the newspaper.  I hold that person at bay the best I can but here are some of the things that remind me that I am no spring chicken any more.

  • When people come over I want them to take off their shoes and stand on our new memory foam bath mats.
  • I researched toothbrushes online and read reviews.
  • I know better than eating too many cucumbers.  Ever get indigestion when you were 22?  didn’t think so.
  •  I know that if I took acetaminophen 3 hours ago and my back still hurts, it is OK to take ibuprofen now.
  • I know the names of different kinds of medicine.
  • Food guilt. (Like standing over the sink inhaling leftovers at 11:45 at night and not being able to look in the mirror later.)
  • WebMD isn’t just for finding gross pictures anymore.
  • I walk down the cereal aisle and think “it can’t taste that different and 43 cents can really add up.”
  • Having a birthday coming up makes me think about getting older instead of hoping I get a 4 wheeler.

Sadly, I can probably fill this list out faster than the first one.  What are some things that remind you that you are getting older?  Realizing it would probably be a good idea to invest in a pair of work gloves is totally weak.

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March 7, 2012

The Telltale Sign a Car Seat was Moved Here

By Simon

20120307-154820.jpg

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March 5, 2012

This Post is Brought to you by Public Restrooms

By Simon

Sweet

Blown Away 

Public restrooms aren’t much for excitement beyond the obvious relief they bring.  That is, however, until I see one of those Xlerator hand dryers.  How awesome are those?  The automated towel dispenser lost its luster quickly and the Jedi like sinks that you wave your hand under to turn on are a pain.  The turbo hand dryer though, is totally sweet.  If I see a regular old hand dryer in your restroom, you can be sure that I am leaving with equal parts damp hands and disappointment.  But if you have one of those turbo hand dryers I can’t wait to put my hands under it and watch the skin on my hands almost blow off.  I haven’t tried it yet but I bet if you bend down and look up into that thing it is a lot like skydiving.

Finding a little piece of awesome in unexpected places is totally sweet.

 

 

Weak

Do You Guys Sell Hand Sanitizer?  

via Wikipedia

Most of the time a public restroom holds zero awesome.  In fact, I don’t think that I could stomach the travel portion of my job if I had to sit down in those places.  Ladies, I don’t know how you do it.  I have been told it has to do with dark voodoo magic and levitating. My hat is off to you for both the courage and ability to navigate a place like that.

I used to think message boards on the internet were the home of hate speech and filthy innuendo.  Apparently the founding father to this segment of expressionism is the Bathroom in the Swifty Fuel on highway 59.  I learn more stuff that I didn’t want to know from that reading material than I care to admit.

I will spare you from the detail of a particular encounter I had last week, but I will sum it up like this.  Sometimes I finish using the bathroom, look at the sink, and realize my hands were just touching one of the cleanest things in the room.  I walk back out into the store and look for a little bottle of hand sanitizer.  It may cost $7.99 but at least I won’t have to be shipped off to the CDC because of the unknown strand of monkey pox I picked up at mile marker 68.

According to the literature, a good time can be had there on Wednesday nights at 10:45, but I think it is safe to say public restrooms are completely weak.

 

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February 27, 2012

That Thing You Still Have

By Simon

Sweet

The Human Highlight Reel

We all have something right?  An old sweatshirt, a hat, a pair of BVDs.  Something that we have managed to keep all this time.  It may have started as a fluke and just seemed to always be around and by now it has grown into an icon of years gone by and achieved shrine worthy status in your home.  No one understands it but us and even though it is worn and torn it has become one of our most prize possessions.

For me it is this sweet beach towel.  Santa brought it to me when I was a wee lad and it has stuck with me ever since.  How sweet is Dominique Wilkins dunking in all of his short shorts glory?  Things have a way of passing in and out of our life with little consequence but every now and then something sticks around.  I love this beach towel.  Not only because is has the Human Highlight Reel on it, but because it takes me back every time I see it.  Just like the smell of mothballs will always take me to the hall closet of my grandparents house where they kept the Dukes of Hazzard board game, seeing this towel reminds me of growing up on Azalea Circle.  Having a tangible reminder of a  memory is totally sweet even if it does have holes in it.  What is that one thing that you still have?

P.S. Remind me to dedicate an entire blog to The Dukes of Hazzard because little in this world is sweeter than that show.

Weak

Crying Digital Wolf 

Do you see what you are doing there Mr. high importance email?  I notice the trend, everything you send me has a red exclamation point on it and when I open it you are forwarding me a chain letter or asking to buy a box of Tagalongs from your daughter.  That actually may be a bad example because it is one of the few emails from you I have ever responded to.   What are you going to do when it comes time to notify us that you actually have re-formatted the TPS reports?  Do you have a dial that goes to 11?  You are crying digital wolf, my friend, and no one cares anymore.

While I am at it I should remind you that a read receipt on your message should just be called a click receipt because I don’t read any of them,I just click that box to make it go away.  I know that you have a voice and you want it to be heard.  I know what it is like to feel like you are drowning in a sea of cubicles but it is time to re-evaluate.  Are you trying to be that jerk that talks above everyone and always acts like what they are saying is the most important thing ever?  It seems like you are.  You don’t have to reply to all when your message is only to one person.  You don’t have to set up tons of auto forward rules so I get email from you on the nights and weekends.   I am not trying to hurt your feelings I just want you to take a second of self-reflection.  All of those extra email bells and whistles can be totally weak.

This message was sent with High importance.

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February 14, 2012

Hello There Resolution, I’ve Been Waiting for You

By Simon

Sweet

Hello There Resolution, I’ve Been Waiting for you.

Weak

Extreme Measures  

It was Sunday evening and our sweet little 16 month old angel was being anything but angelic.  She seemed to be trying to make a statement to the family that this was her show and we were lucky just to have supporting roles.  She was cranky and whiny and just couldn’t get right.  She didn’t want to play and the only time she smiled was when she was taking something that she shouldn’t have and throwing it on the floor when we said no.

She may be the smallest member of this family but on Sunday night she was taking more than her fair share of the pie.  Our oldest just wanted to sit and color without prying crayons from her little sister’s mouth and the evening’s soundtrack of constant crying and bickering was putting everyone on edge.

With nerves starting to frazzle is was time for dad to step up and be the captain of the ship.  So, I walked into the bedroom, put on a pair of khakis, laced up my shoes and decided to make a stand.  This kid needed something that we apparently weren’t able to give her so I got her dressed and we headed to church.  Sometimes it is in our darkest hour that we turn to God for help.

Luckily the church is only 3 miles from the house so we made it just in time for the evening service to start.  I carried our little one and a bag filled with diapers and juice and Cheerios for her to sprinkle on the floor to the church nursery.  I checked her in, handed over her gear, and gave the nursery worker an apologetic nod.  I should have slipped her a 50.

Then, without looking back, I walked out to the car and drove home basking in the silence and hopeful that the preacher would be long-winded.   Sometimes parenting requires an outside of the box approach and the next 90 minutes of monster free peace was just what we needed.  I said a prayer of thanks to baby Jesus and gloated a bit at my stroke of genius.

This didn’t really happen but when your kid is bad enough that you contemplate extreme measures it is totally weak.

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February 7, 2012

I Hope This Gas Station Sells Roses

By Simon

Sweet

Free Kittens

Parenting is a pretty amazing adventure.  I have been a dad for almost 6 years now and somewhere along the trail of Cheerios, runny noses, and snuggle sandwiches I think I have managed to learn a few things.  I have a friend that is preparing to become a father.  He asked me, the other day, if I had any advice.  This is what I told him:

  • A sleeping baby that is starting to wake up is like an eclipse.  Whatever you do, do not look directly at it.
  • At some point you will be taking a shirt off your toddler and it will get stuck around their head because you forgot to unbutton the back.  For a split second you will consider yanking it the rest of the way.  You won’t because you aren’t a monster but you will question your value as a human being for even considering it.
  • One day your kid will learn to read.  Start working on your response to the “Free Kittens” sign now.
  • When your baby is in that “don’t you dare put me down” stage, the most fun way to cut up a frozen waffle is with a meat cleaver.
  • Realize now that anything your child brings with them to play with in the car has a 78% chance of never being seen again.  Ever.
  • When out alone with your baby in public you will think it is hilarious to ask another mom what flavor of Power Aid 9 month olds like the best when in front of a vending machine.  Your wife will not find this as funny but you should do it any way.
  • Unless you go all out with glitter and a poster board card, it is best not to mention that you sent a birthday message into the Sprout network.    The only fruit you will have to show for your labor is diminished DVR capacity and disappointment.

I told him that anything I didn’t cover in that list he could probably find in a book because that is where they put advice from people truly qualified to give it.  Being a parent is the best and passing along some pearls of wisdom you have picked up along the way is totally sweet.

Weak

The Last Minute Valentine 

Via Wikipedia

I wanted to go ahead and toss a friendly reminder out there to my fellow husbands.  Valentine’s Day is next week.  Now, when you are executing your poorly thought out romance action plan on the way home from work next week, don’t say I didn’t warn you.  If you do find yourself scrambling  at the last-minute, remember there is no time to launch an elaborate gesture of love and romance to your significant other.  Keep it simple.  Here are a few of my hopes for the last-minute valentine.

  • I Hope the gas station sells roses.
  • And not the kind that turn out to be rolled up red panties.  (Unless you are into gas station underwear.  If so, go nuts)
  • I hope you finish your heart-felt message in her card before the light turns green.
  • I hope you think of enough things to write in the card that you can draw a little arrow at the bottom signaling to the next page. ( I know as a dude when you see that little arrow you just think “great, more reading” but trust me, women love it.)
  •  I hope you remember that this isn’t your nephew’s graduation and putting a check for $20 inside the card won’t cut it.
  • I hope you remember to figure something out for dinner.  Don’t even try to find a last-minute babysitter and take her to a restaurant, that’s a suicide mission pal.  Just bring something home (from a place that doesn’t have a drive through).
  • I hope you aren’t one of those dudes with glazed over eyes standing in front of a mile long display in a card shop.  If you are, just get one of those long skinny cards (girls love those).
  • I hope you don’t, in an effort to save time, just grab a birthday card and scribble out the word birthday and write Valentine’s above it (girls don’t love those).
  • I hope you remember to tell her you love her and mean it.
  •  I hope she gives you a few chocolates free of the exploratory thumb poke on the bottom.

You don’t have to start planning now but just remember it is coming.  It may be a holiday manufactured by florists and card companies but she deserves to know you love her everyday, especially on Valentine’s Day.

It is hard to use the steering wheel as a writing surface for a Valentine’s Day card and waiting until the last-minute is totally weak.

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January 31, 2012

Its Getting Kind of Squatchy in Here

By Simon

Sweet

That Should Buy Me a Little More Time

Let me tell you about something that is awesome. You know when you throw something away in your kitchen garbage can and it is full? Yeah, we all hate that. What is awesome though, is when you muster up the fortitude to smash your hand down into the can like a human trash compactor and buy yourself 8 more inches of chore freedom. It is a risk that we all take and though it pushes the plastic fibers to their limit and increases the chance the bottom blowing out, we are ok with that. We have just created bonus time. The mind reels when considering the endless options of what you can now do with the 4 minutes of extra time you just created. I am not saying that I brag about it on Facebook or anything, but when I press that paper plate down and the top of the pile retreats all the way to the halfway point of the can, I can’t help but feel a little proud. Chore procrastination is totally sweet.

Weak

Nothing Says Reality like Bigfoot.

It took a bit of time for reality television to gain credibility as a legitimate television genre. Those days are over. I don ‘t even remember what it’s like to watch shows with actors and writers and stuff. I think I may have a problem. Everyone says that House Hunters isn’t bad and can’t hurt you but we all know it is a gatekeeper. I started slow, a little here, a little there. I knew people who were talking about it and hey, I will try anything once. What’s the worst that can happen? The cool kids are talking about Pawn Stars and Hoarders and I want to be accepted at the water cooler.

Well kids, let me set you straight. The worst that can happen is horrible. Last night I was up in the middle of the night like some strung out crack fiend watching a show called Finding Bigfoot on Animal Planet. I know what you are thinking, I didn’t make the jump from something relatively innocent like 19 kids and counting straight to using the word “squatchy.” No, it has been a downward spiral of Toddlers, Tiaras, Little People, Swamp People, and Teen Moms. I don’t know if there is a 10 step program but after convincing myself that Bigfoot was, not only real, but in my backyard last night, I think I may have a problem. In fact, I am thinking about stopping my car payments just so I can get on TV on one of those repo shows. It’s bad guys. I was looking around the internet for a support group or a meeting or something but did you know that every episode of Jon and Kate plus 8 is on Netflix? Please keep me in your prayers and send snacks, I will see you in April.

Reality TV has gotten pathetically weak and I can’t help myself.

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