I Parked Next to Oscar the Grouch's Car Today

In an earlier post, I showed you how someone saved money by doing his own car body repairs.

Today, I saw a car that someone is using to save on trash collection bills. Like a sucker, I’ve been putting my old drink cups, banana peels, junk mail, and other refuse into the trash can, which gets emptied—for a fee—once a week (provided I remember to drag it to the curb). This guy just throws everything into his Ford Tempo, saving time and money. I presume it accumulates until he can no longer see over the top of it, at which time he only has to open the passenger doors in the Wal-Mart parking lot, letting it all cascade to the ground.

He must be filthy rich.

Rain water and glare make this a crummy shot, so you'll just
have to take my word that the entire car is filled with trash.

It looks like a win-win situation: there’s still plenty of room for him in the driver’s seat, he has a perfect excuse to refuse giving rides to friends (where would they sit?), and he never has to go looking for a wastebasket, dumpster, or recycling bin. As an added bonus, he’ll never have to worry about women trying to go on a date with him… or talk to him… or even stand within 20 feet of him.

To my wife and kids: After seeing this, I apologize for all the times I’ve gotten on your case over a few gum wrappers or a video rental receipt in the minivan, and I promise to lighten up from now on.

I'm Like, WAY Behind

Lately, it seems I've refused to be intimidated into a conventional belief in things like deadlines for work projects, due dates on school assignments, and "promises" I've made to get things done around the house.


I'm so far behind, I'm almost ahead. It's like once when I was running in a footrace. (This was a LONG time ago, when I would sometimes run just for fun. Nowadays, I need something chasing me.) I was so slow, after a few minutes the other kids came around the track and almost lapped me. But it appeared as though I was in the lead! They were all behind and I was in front... never mind how we got that way.


I guess that only works when you're running in circles. Too bad our lives move along this linear timeline, never looping around to the beginning. I just need to suspend belief in that whole situation, and I'll be fine. First, I'd better catch up on a few things...

Working Together, We Turn Nice Things Into Nightmares

My daughters like to make cards, and they've come up with some pretty good ones. I expect Hallmark to call any day with job offers.


I recently found this one, which was not homemade, but enhanced by us:

Artwork © Dianna Marcum; Card © New Seasons.

As you can see, there's a nice little drawing of a bear on the front.


When you open it, the bear pops up inside, and one of my girls (I'm not sure which one, but I have a pretty good guess) wrote a caption:

"A bear is hungry for something else but all he has is apples."

I thought this was cute and rather fitting. I mean, just look at the expression on his face. What else could it mean?


Never one to leave stuff alone, I felt it needed just a little something to be complete.


So I added a few words of my own:

There! Much better.




I could have also put something about the giant bees, which look like they're getting ready to sting somebody, but there's no need to go overboard, eh?


Maybe Hallmark won't be calling after all.


...


I believe in always giving credit where it's due, so I have to tell you the inspiration for this came from Jenny Lawson, a.k.a. The Bloggess, one of the funniest women I know. Check out some of her work, but be warned that she has a potty mouth, so her blog is not recommended for children or the overly sensitive:

TheBloggess.com August 10, 2011

"Be Kind" card at The Bloggess's Zazzle store

... and many other products to offend people you don't like

Dancing Robots and Toilet Water

In my last post I said writing is what I pay attention to, therefore I’m a writer. If you were to assess my four year old boy by this standard, you’d conclude that he’s a robot.

Caleb’s had a keen interest in all things robotic for most of his life. He knows more about robots than any kid his age has a right to. He recently told me about a TV show he's been watching called Eon Kid. Apparently it’s about a “real human boy” who finds a magic glove that transforms him into a robot when he puts it on. This would be a dream come true for Caleb. But his dream is ironic because robots have the following qualities:

• Complete lack of emotion
• Lack of all self-awareness
• Sharp focus on specific, repetitive tasks
• No need for parental or other human interaction
• Ability to work long periods without assistance or rewards

Caleb doesn’t quite meet up to these criteria. In the current vernacular, I’d say, “Robot-like? Not so much.” I’d describe him more as the needy, demanding, selfish type, with no focus, lousy work ethic, and frequent dramatic mood swings. It’s okay, because we give kids a pass until they're five or six. Hopefully by then he'll have a handle on stuff, in other words, he'll figure out the universe does not revolve around him.

But Caleb's a fun little guy, and we have lots of good conversations. We had one the other day that started when he saw me take a drink from the bathroom faucet, and went like this:

Caleb: You drank some of that water?

Me: Yeah, it's okay. You can drink water from that faucet.

Caleb: Oh. Okay.

Me: [Knowing that he loves potty humor] But you can't drink the toilet water.

Caleb: I know!

Me: Only Cooper can drink that.

Caleb: I know. Because he's a dog.

Me: Right. He likes drinking from the toilet, and cats like to flush it.

      (This is a reference to one of our favorite videos on YouTube.)

At this point, I started singing the "Cat Flushing a Toilet" song, which made him spontaneously break into a frantic robot dance. When I say "frantic" I mean he was throwing down his usual robot dance moves, but at super high speed. I think an effortless ability to dance like a robot is one of the things Caleb envies most in robots.

If you can picture this interaction, you have a pretty good idea of what my life with Caleb is like.

...


Did you like what you just read? Why not join Unintimidated by Convention? There's no membership fee, you don't have to attend any meetings, and I promise not to send you annual renewal notices. Just click on the right where it says "Join this site" and then type in your stuff that it asks for. Do it now!

Why I Blog

I've not been very bloggy lately; I only posted one short entry here all weekend and nothing in the past couple days. I'd like to catch up now, and to explain something.

Upon starting Unintimidated by Convention last month, I said I was doing it for a class assignment and also for my own reasons, which I will now share with you. I see lots of blogs, many of which focus on a specific theme. This is where mine differs. I am not doing any of the following as I blog:

- riding my bike cross country to raise money/awareness for some rare disease

- trying out new material for later use in my burgeoning stand-up comedy act

- training for a marathon, triathlon, beauty pageant, or chess tournament

- fighting breast cancer, either first-hand or for a friend

- learning the ins and outs of parenthood

- getting advertising income

They say the pen is mightier than the

sword. That would mean a typewriter is

more powerful than a machine gun, and

a personal computer is greater than an

atomic bomb. I am a world superpower!

Photo by Kriss Szkurlatowski

The Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset said, "Tell me to what you pay attention, and I’ll tell you who you are." If he could observe me, he'd say I'm a writer. I write all the time. I write at work, at school, at home and on the road, for homework and for fun. I write to pass time when I'm in a boring meeting. I write stuff inside my head almost constantly, and later type up or jot down the parts of it I can recall. I also read, because reading and writing are closely related activities that support each other. I read novels, stories, poems, magazines, blogs, websites, newsletters, jokes, scientific research, movie and book reviews, literary criticism, textbooks, and greeting cards.


Someday, I might get paid to write, maybe enough to make it my primary occupation. For now, I just do it because it's what I am.

So, if writing is such a natural and essential activity for me, why do I need the blog as a medium on which to do it? My answer: Blogging is the best way to encourage others to read my words. Writing in a journal that I keep to myself has its own special attraction. So does writing on a piece of scratch paper that goes immediately into the trash. Or writing a school paper that I know my professor will read, but probably nobody else ever will. All of these and many others are fine in their own right. But when I blog, I know there's at least a potential of reaching many people, both friends and strangers, all over the world. My writing takes on new meaning when I know others might read it. It sounds arrogant, and I think most writing is unavoidably arrogant. The key is to find a personal style or "voice" that is not egotistical, even if the activity tends toward arrogance. For example, I've just typed several paragraphs about myself, including frequent use of words like I, me, and my. With this realization, the writer now chooses to end, but will return soon.


...


Did you like what you just read? Why not join Unintimidated by Convention? There's no membership fee, you don't have to attend any meetings, and I promise not to send you annual renewal notices. Just click on the right where it says "Join this site" and then type in your stuff that it asks for. Do it now!

Some Wacky Diversions

If you are reading this, you're one of the lucky few who survived the space junk bombardment and you must now help rebuild the human race in a post-apocalyptic wasteland... But first, let me share a few things that have entertained me lately. (When I say entertained I mean "distracted me from doing something productive.")

...

Ever heard of chap-hop? It's rap music performed by pompous English gentlemen. Seriously. I was introduced to it a few months ago by a Wired magazine article, which you can read here if you wish:

Wired online, 26 April 2011

There's been an active rivalry between the genre's two prominent (perhaps only?) artists, Professor Elemental, and Mr.  B, The Gentleman Rhymer. But unlike the west coast vs. east coast rappers here in the colonies, these fellows don't go after each other with drive-by shootings. They're more inclined to cast scathing insults back and forth, calling each other scoundrels or frightful bores, or my favorite: declaring, "I don't like your tweed, sir!" Following are a few representative samples of their work.

Professor Elemental's "Fighting Trousers," with a message for his chap-hop rival:

Mr. B's "Chap-hop History," in which he gives his little banjolele quite a workout:

I have to be in the right mood to enjoy this hybrid of urban American musical styles and urbane British sensibilities, but it’s growing on me. I've even begun to swap catch phrases like "Fetch me my trousers at once!" with a friend at work. I have a vague theory I could share on this music's appeal, but that will have to wait for another time.

...

I read quite a few blogs, though not many serious ones. A favorite that is far from serious but very intelligent is called "Hyperbole and a Half." Check it out when you're ready to smile at least, maybe laugh out loud, and be amazed at what a very creative Idahoan named Allie Brosh can do with Microsoft Paint.

If you read Hyperbole and a Half and love it, I think you and I could be best friends. If you just don't get it, that's okay, but we will probably not get along. If you don't find it funny, there might be something wrong with you, and you should seek professional help.

Also, check out a video interview with Allie, giving some insight into her genius.

Update: New Info on the Space Junk Bombardment

Yesterday, I warned all (or is it both?) of my readers about the impending fall to Earth of an enormous satellite, an event CNN didn't seem too concerned about. I've now learned more details and can tell you there is no point in running for your lives... because the only safe place to be is ANYWHERE BUT OUR PLANET.

Utah's quaint little provincial news channel, KSL, featured a helpful story on their website today, which you should read in its entirety here:

Space Junk Expected to Hit Earth in Coming Days

It seems nobody knows where this school bus-sized hunk of destruction will touch down, at least not with any more precision than "almost anywhere on the globe." Worse yet, it will likely break into several smaller but still deadly pieces on its way down, just as I feared.

My favorite part of this story is that they contacted a guy at NASA named Mark Matney, whose job title is Orbital Debris Scientist, and even he has no idea where the satellite will hit, because it is "not behaving" (his words, not mine). Darn those pesky satellites, always refusing to eat their vegetables, leaving their room a mess, and wiping out entire cities when they plummet to Earth! What I wouldn't give for a job as a NASA scientist, with its accompanying salary, that allows me to blow off questions with "It's tumbling in ways that we can't control." This guy's expertise is needed about once every 30 years, and his answer is basically How should I know?

And everyone's been worried about a silly zombie apocalypse. You may now commence to freaking out. I think I'll go hide in my camp trailer.