My 16-year-old had not yet seen Toy Story 3, so even though my wife, the 3-year-old, the 4-year-old, and I had seen it, we were game for taking the "big brother" to it this past weekend. It was the first time I had seen the same movie in a theatre more than once since "Miracle."
We saw the matinee at an AMC theatre, which meant $7.50 for each of us big folks, and $5.00 each for the little ones, if I recall correctly. Expensive, sure, but far better than full adult prices for evening showings. But then came time for the large pop and popcorn to share, plus small treats because we stupidly didn't stop at Rainbow to get treats to smuggle in. The large pop and popcorn were about $5.50 each. People don't often realize it, but refreshments are so expensive because the theatres make pretty much zilch on the movie tickets.
Just before placing my order, a mysterious gentlemen tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Here, take these if you can use them." They were two self-printed coupons for soda and popcorn. I thanked him politely, if lacklusterly, and checked out the coupons.
At first glance, I thought they said $1.00 off. Then I saw they said $1.00 each, but thought I wasn't going to use them, because I wanted large. Finally, I realized they were indeed for large sizes, and valid on that day only.
Like a scene from a movie, when I turned to thank the stranger a second, more emphatic time, he had vanished. This stranger saved my family $9.00 in a moment of thoughtfulness, when he could have just tossed them away.
I enjoyed Toy Story 3 very much the first time. I enjoyed it much more the second.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Mom and Dad's 50th Anniversary
My mom and dad celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary last weekend. I'm not sure how it all started, but any decently sized event our family holds and invites guests to includes a "program" where my sisters and I, and sometimes others, put together a few stories and sing some songs.
Typically, my older sister and I will bring our guitars for accompaniment, but because we knew we'd have minimal time to rehearse, we used a karaoke machine for back-up. It was cheesy, but easy.
I sang "Playground in My Mind," a one-hit wonder from the '70s sung by Clint Holmes, and my kids sang along to the choruses, except my oldest, who at 16 is too cool for that kind of thing. If you don't know the song, you're either too young, or you simply know the song as the "My name is Michael, I've got a nickel" song.
I sang that one because we told stories about growing up, and this was the perfect song to bring in a new generation of singers at these gatherings. My grandmother loved the song, largely because of the "We're gonna let them visit their grandma" line, and I thought it would be nice for my mom to hear her grandchildren sing it.
I also backed up my sister on "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head," and I sang the Statler Brothers' "The Class of '57," because my mom graduated high school in 1957.
If you're unfamiliar with the Statler Brothers song, the cool thing about it is that despite sounding at first take like a typical '70s country-pop tune, the lyrics are deeper than they may come across at face value. It basically tells one-line stories of various schoolmates, some more successful in their post-high school endeavors than others, with a few words of wisdom in the choruses. Even though it was presumably about people who have been out of high school for about 15 years (based on the copyright date of the song), it is pretty timeless.
I'm sure a lot of people scoff at anything the Statler Brothers did. And while I'm not generally a fan of country music, I don't automatically dismiss every song from the genre. Besides, they really were more eclectic than that.
My favorite line from the song, which wraps it up near the end: "Things get complicated when you get past eighteen." I hope as a father I can prepare my kids well enough to fully understand and appreciate how true that is. Especially my "cool" 16 year-old.
Happy 50th, Mom and Dad. I don't know which event we'll sing at next - perhaps I can get my kids to sing at my 50th birthday party less than six years from now.
Typically, my older sister and I will bring our guitars for accompaniment, but because we knew we'd have minimal time to rehearse, we used a karaoke machine for back-up. It was cheesy, but easy.
I sang "Playground in My Mind," a one-hit wonder from the '70s sung by Clint Holmes, and my kids sang along to the choruses, except my oldest, who at 16 is too cool for that kind of thing. If you don't know the song, you're either too young, or you simply know the song as the "My name is Michael, I've got a nickel" song.
I sang that one because we told stories about growing up, and this was the perfect song to bring in a new generation of singers at these gatherings. My grandmother loved the song, largely because of the "We're gonna let them visit their grandma" line, and I thought it would be nice for my mom to hear her grandchildren sing it.
I also backed up my sister on "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head," and I sang the Statler Brothers' "The Class of '57," because my mom graduated high school in 1957.
If you're unfamiliar with the Statler Brothers song, the cool thing about it is that despite sounding at first take like a typical '70s country-pop tune, the lyrics are deeper than they may come across at face value. It basically tells one-line stories of various schoolmates, some more successful in their post-high school endeavors than others, with a few words of wisdom in the choruses. Even though it was presumably about people who have been out of high school for about 15 years (based on the copyright date of the song), it is pretty timeless.
I'm sure a lot of people scoff at anything the Statler Brothers did. And while I'm not generally a fan of country music, I don't automatically dismiss every song from the genre. Besides, they really were more eclectic than that.
My favorite line from the song, which wraps it up near the end: "Things get complicated when you get past eighteen." I hope as a father I can prepare my kids well enough to fully understand and appreciate how true that is. Especially my "cool" 16 year-old.
Happy 50th, Mom and Dad. I don't know which event we'll sing at next - perhaps I can get my kids to sing at my 50th birthday party less than six years from now.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
A Bowling List
With golf season in full swing, and my not having touched my bowling balls in two months, I thought it might be fun to post a list I've been thinking about over the years.
Top All-Time Professional Bowlers' Names
5. Bob Handley (Non-bowlers may not appreciate it, but "more hand" is bowling slang for what you need to throw a bigger hook.)
4. John Handegard (A perfect product-endorsing name for bowling, like if a golfer were named "Woods." Imagine that...)
3. Larry Laub (What happens when your thumb sticks.)
2. Gary Skidmore (And thus, hook less.)
1. Charlie Tapp (Minnesota's own, whose name is the golf equivalent of Charlie Shankk, Whiff, or Yipp. Only Charlie Gutterball would be better.)
Honorable Mention: Guppy Troup (In golf, Arnie had his Army. This guy's fan club could have just used his full name.)
I thought there also was once a bowler named Loft, but can't seem to find proof of it, as Googling "professional bowler Loft" gives you the metaphorical haystack in which to find the needle.
And just for fun, a little off-topic, the best name for a bad NFL punter: Bucky Scribner. That name sounds like what you would call a bad punt.
Top All-Time Professional Bowlers' Names
5. Bob Handley (Non-bowlers may not appreciate it, but "more hand" is bowling slang for what you need to throw a bigger hook.)
4. John Handegard (A perfect product-endorsing name for bowling, like if a golfer were named "Woods." Imagine that...)
3. Larry Laub (What happens when your thumb sticks.)
2. Gary Skidmore (And thus, hook less.)
1. Charlie Tapp (Minnesota's own, whose name is the golf equivalent of Charlie Shankk, Whiff, or Yipp. Only Charlie Gutterball would be better.)
Honorable Mention: Guppy Troup (In golf, Arnie had his Army. This guy's fan club could have just used his full name.)
I thought there also was once a bowler named Loft, but can't seem to find proof of it, as Googling "professional bowler Loft" gives you the metaphorical haystack in which to find the needle.
And just for fun, a little off-topic, the best name for a bad NFL punter: Bucky Scribner. That name sounds like what you would call a bad punt.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
How not to spend time on your vacation
It's after 11:00 P.M. on a Wednesday, right in the middle of my vacation, and I'm getting upset because I can't seem to get the wifi to work so I can check e-mails.
I don't have a job that requires me to check e-mails while on vacation, but it is a job that necessarily means I will return with over a thousand e-mails when I return July 6 if I do not check them and delete the deletables. My Outlook inbox is likely already filled to its limit, which is stressing me out more than any subject matter I may find once I do get in.
It's weird stressing out over something that will really not matter one bit once I return from vacation. My July 6 return will be filled with catching up regardless of whether I stress about it now, and whether I do anything about it once I get into the wifi. If I ever do get in, that is.
It's also frustrating that I drove over a half-mile to do this, as our room does not get wifi.
If only my golf game was good enough to relieve the stress.
I don't have a job that requires me to check e-mails while on vacation, but it is a job that necessarily means I will return with over a thousand e-mails when I return July 6 if I do not check them and delete the deletables. My Outlook inbox is likely already filled to its limit, which is stressing me out more than any subject matter I may find once I do get in.
It's weird stressing out over something that will really not matter one bit once I return from vacation. My July 6 return will be filled with catching up regardless of whether I stress about it now, and whether I do anything about it once I get into the wifi. If I ever do get in, that is.
It's also frustrating that I drove over a half-mile to do this, as our room does not get wifi.
If only my golf game was good enough to relieve the stress.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Opposites attract
I hate slow walkers. My wife is a slow walker. OK, I don't hate her, nor other slow walkers really, but I hate getting stuck behind them in places where I'm not even trying to walk fast - just at a nice, lively pace.
My wife hates slow drivers. I am a slow driver. OK, she doesn't hate me, nor other slow drivers, but she hates getting stuck behind them in places where she only wants to go 5 mph over the speed limit. I don't really drive slowly, either, just typically 1 mph slower than the normal flow, unless I'm in a hurry, which isn't often.
She really gets stressed out over other drivers, which causes her to tailgate, cuss, etc. And that stresses me out even more than she already is.
But you know what's good for stress? A nice, lively walk. It's supposed to be, anyway.
My wife hates slow drivers. I am a slow driver. OK, she doesn't hate me, nor other slow drivers, but she hates getting stuck behind them in places where she only wants to go 5 mph over the speed limit. I don't really drive slowly, either, just typically 1 mph slower than the normal flow, unless I'm in a hurry, which isn't often.
She really gets stressed out over other drivers, which causes her to tailgate, cuss, etc. And that stresses me out even more than she already is.
But you know what's good for stress? A nice, lively walk. It's supposed to be, anyway.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
World Cup
At the risk of sounding like another ignorant American, I just can't get into the World Cup. But to all those worldly, smarter-than-I fans of the game, who "get it" like I "obviously" do not, I have a few things to say, in no particular order:
1. Because I don't enjoy the game as much as the "Big 4" American professional team sports does not mean I do not enjoy the game.
2. Because I would like to see more scoring in an average game, does not mean I do not "get it."
3. If soccer is such a pure sport, why is the most important game of the "best game in the world" allowed to be decided by the luck of a goaltender's guess? (Oh, that's right, I know the answer...because I just don't "get it.")
4. If soccer fans do not have the same short attention span as we glib Americans, and fully understand and enjoy the beauty of the game as it is, why must they blow those vuvuzela's from start to finish, in a game that takes a mere 2 hours total time to complete? (What's to "get" there?)
5. Because I criticize the game as I do, does not mean I do not enjoy it.
6. I greatly appreciate what soccer players can do with the ball without resorting to their hands. Because that does not entertain me to the same extent as many other sports, does not mean I do not "get it."
7. Soccer, like many other sports and games, is great fun to play. It just ranks lower on my list of sports and games I enjoy watching. Which, again, is not the same as my saying I do not enjoy watching it at all.
OK, I think I've made my point(s), although I admit there may be some straw man arguments in there. I probably will watch the World Cup final for the same reason I watch the college women's softball finals, and other sporting events I otherwise don't regularly follow. That is, when something is truly on the line, I enjoy pretty much all forms of athletic competition.
I'd just rather clap along with an organ than blow a vuvuzela.
Yes, I do see the potential for the sophomoric innuendo joke in that last sentence. Have at it, if you wish.
1. Because I don't enjoy the game as much as the "Big 4" American professional team sports does not mean I do not enjoy the game.
2. Because I would like to see more scoring in an average game, does not mean I do not "get it."
3. If soccer is such a pure sport, why is the most important game of the "best game in the world" allowed to be decided by the luck of a goaltender's guess? (Oh, that's right, I know the answer...because I just don't "get it.")
4. If soccer fans do not have the same short attention span as we glib Americans, and fully understand and enjoy the beauty of the game as it is, why must they blow those vuvuzela's from start to finish, in a game that takes a mere 2 hours total time to complete? (What's to "get" there?)
5. Because I criticize the game as I do, does not mean I do not enjoy it.
6. I greatly appreciate what soccer players can do with the ball without resorting to their hands. Because that does not entertain me to the same extent as many other sports, does not mean I do not "get it."
7. Soccer, like many other sports and games, is great fun to play. It just ranks lower on my list of sports and games I enjoy watching. Which, again, is not the same as my saying I do not enjoy watching it at all.
OK, I think I've made my point(s), although I admit there may be some straw man arguments in there. I probably will watch the World Cup final for the same reason I watch the college women's softball finals, and other sporting events I otherwise don't regularly follow. That is, when something is truly on the line, I enjoy pretty much all forms of athletic competition.
I'd just rather clap along with an organ than blow a vuvuzela.
Yes, I do see the potential for the sophomoric innuendo joke in that last sentence. Have at it, if you wish.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Duct tape: It really can do anything
We took our four-year-old to the doctor today to look at what appeared to be a wart growing on his foot. Actually, his "Mema" took him, at her insistence, and it pains me to admit I'm glad she did.
It is indeed a wart (we had hoped it was merely a corn), and my wife and I had a brief discussion about whether it is a Plantar wart. She said because it is on the bottom of his foot, it is by definition a Plantar wart. I disagreed in my head, kept my mouth shut, Googled it later, learned to my satisfaction I was right, and continued to keep my mouth shut.
From http://www.howtodothings.com/:
"Plantar warts often appear near the balls of the foot or around the heel (essentially, the places that most likely made contact with the virus in the first place). You can feel the lump of a plantar wart as you walk, but when you look at it, the wart appears surprisingly flat. Due to their location on the body, plantar warts grown inward as opposed to outward. As a result, the wart won't look like a wart on someone's face. A plantar wart feels like a callus because it's covered in callus tissue due to the frequent pressure of walking. Often the planter wart will appear darkly discolored, sometimes with the appearance of a small black core (which is a blood clot, not any physical materialization of the virus itself)."
So yes, a Plantar wart does appear on the bottom of the foot, but exhibits no likeness to the wart my son has. His is outward-growing and has none of the small black cores explained above, which I once experienced in my early twenties.
What I did not expect to learn was the home remedy for it: duct tape. It kills the virus I guess, and eventually the wart goes away. It is supposed to work for "real" Plantar warts, too. I was very glad to know my son didn't have to have it frozen off, for his sake and mine, as I'm not sure my insurance covers the procedure.
I used a daily regimen of a prescription cream, Band-Aids, and a razor blade to remove mine back in the late '80s. It was kind of gross and creepy to self-mutilate my way to a wart-free foot. It was a lot cheaper than freezing the warts off, but it was no match for duct tape.
It is indeed a wart (we had hoped it was merely a corn), and my wife and I had a brief discussion about whether it is a Plantar wart. She said because it is on the bottom of his foot, it is by definition a Plantar wart. I disagreed in my head, kept my mouth shut, Googled it later, learned to my satisfaction I was right, and continued to keep my mouth shut.
From http://www.howtodothings.com/:
"Plantar warts often appear near the balls of the foot or around the heel (essentially, the places that most likely made contact with the virus in the first place). You can feel the lump of a plantar wart as you walk, but when you look at it, the wart appears surprisingly flat. Due to their location on the body, plantar warts grown inward as opposed to outward. As a result, the wart won't look like a wart on someone's face. A plantar wart feels like a callus because it's covered in callus tissue due to the frequent pressure of walking. Often the planter wart will appear darkly discolored, sometimes with the appearance of a small black core (which is a blood clot, not any physical materialization of the virus itself)."
So yes, a Plantar wart does appear on the bottom of the foot, but exhibits no likeness to the wart my son has. His is outward-growing and has none of the small black cores explained above, which I once experienced in my early twenties.
What I did not expect to learn was the home remedy for it: duct tape. It kills the virus I guess, and eventually the wart goes away. It is supposed to work for "real" Plantar warts, too. I was very glad to know my son didn't have to have it frozen off, for his sake and mine, as I'm not sure my insurance covers the procedure.
I used a daily regimen of a prescription cream, Band-Aids, and a razor blade to remove mine back in the late '80s. It was kind of gross and creepy to self-mutilate my way to a wart-free foot. It was a lot cheaper than freezing the warts off, but it was no match for duct tape.
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