Curse you, Shamus Young!

I’ve mentioned Shamus and his blog before, and in fact if you look over there —> you’ll see a link. So today, I pulled up his page, and I see a video from my old pal YouTube. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I cannot resist. I click. I’m treated to this…

Go ahead… click it. You know you wanna…

Life, the Universe, and... Tae Kwon Do?

OK, so I turned 42 this year. I should have all the answers (or, according to Douglas Adams, perhaps I should be the answer). So, riddle me this, Batman… Why on earth did I pick now to take up Tae Kwon Do? What was I thinking?

Ok, what I was thinking was, David started TKD last year. Susie and I wanted to find a physical activity for him that he liked and would stick with. He’s not much for team sports, so when we saw the class advertised, we asked if he’d be interested. He said yes, and we signed him up. A couple of weeks in, I suggested maybe I could join the class as well, and it could be a sort of father/son thing. He seemed to like the idea, but it was obvious he was torn. We eventually puzzled out that maybe he didn’t care so much to be “in competition” with me, and if we were both in the same class, I would (by virtue of age and general experience) be “better” than he was. So I offered him a deal: I’d start, but not until after he had his second grading, for yellow belt.

Well, he just got his yellow belt. (*EDIT: THIS LINK POINTS TO THE FORMERLY NEW AND NOW NEWLY FORMER HOME OF THIS BLOG. THE PIC SHOULD STILL BE THERE, THOUGH)

This IS the funny you're looking for

Oh, yes, if you’re at all a Star Wars fan, you MUST go see this now. Chad Vader. Genius.

I'm not hungry... yet.

I got a call from my doctor’s office today. Seems I forgot to go to the lab and get my blood re-drawn for the physical I had last month. Oops. But this means I have to do the whole “fast for 12 hours” thing again, which means I have to go to my morning workout without breakfast. Yeah, that’s gonna work out just fine.

On the bright side, I’m almost at a 20-pound loss since just before Christmas, which makes me happy. Just 36 more to go… I know I said this wouldn’t become one of those “weightloss blogs,” and it isn’t, but I can’t recommend Weight Watchers enough.

Time to go watch “Life On Mars,” which, for those of you outside the UK, is a detective show about a modern-day cop who, having been hit by a car, finds himself 30 years in the past, in 1973 Birmingham, England. Is he in a coma, is he dead, is he crazy? Who knows? It earn the highest accolade Susie and I bestow, which is, after each episode, we look at each other and say, “That’s a good show.” If you can find a way, watch it.

Moving...

I've decided to move this blog to a different blog host, at least for now. The new one gives me stats (heh) and has some other features that I like. If you're one of my millions of devoted fans (see below) then you'll surely be following me to the new home of The Wit Farm.

See ya there!

The more things change...

When I was a kid, every Sunday we'd go to my Dad's house. At the end of each visit, as he drove us back to Mom's, we'd ask if we could stop for ice cream at the shop on the next block. The answer was usually "no." One week, Dad heaved a sigh and said, "You know, I like to give you guys things, but sometimes I like them to be a surprise. If you ask me every week for ice cream, then I can never surprise you with it. I wish you wouldn't ask every week." So of course we stopped asking, but every week we held our breath as we drove past the shop, to see if this would be the week for "the surprise."

I only mention this because I'm beginning to understand his frustration. The situation isn't exactly the same, but it's similar. Susie and I like to give the kids surprises. The Disney trip, for instance, was a massive surprise... mostly. And this weekend, I took David to the fun fair (carnival) and (as a surprise) I wanted to take him to a movie that he'd been wanting to see ("Arthur and the Invisibles").

The problem is that David is a very big "why" person. As in, "Why do I have to hurry and put my shoes on?" or "WHY do I have to take a bath?" or "WHY do I have to go to bed?" Normally, the answers are, "So we can go out", "Because you're dirty", and "Because it's bedtime." But when the answer is REALLY "So we don't miss the surprise movie time" or "So you don't have to bathe tomorrow before we go to DISNEYLAND" or "Because we have to get up early so we don't miss the train," the usual 8-year-old foot-dragging and tantrum-throwing sulkiness becomes twice as irritating. And it inevitably leads to us saying, "Why? You want to know why? Because we're going to DISNEYLAND tomorrow, which we wanted to do as a surprise, but since we've spent an hour and a half trying to get you into the tub without resorting to physical violence, and we can't just say 'Forget it, no bath, no Disney,' we're going to spoil the surprise and see if maybe, just MAYBE, that will motivate you to get yourself into the tub and then into bed before midnight." And that kind of sucks the fun out of things, you know?

I love him to pieces, but I begin to understand the heavy sigh that prefaced my Dad's comment.

I'll get the hang of this, really...

OK, well, once a week is certainly not going to keep anyone reading. I know this. And that assumes, of course, that anyone wanted to keep reading in the first place. So let's assume there's a million of you out there, my devoted fans. I'll try to write more often, daily even. Most of it won't be gems, but who knows? Maybe there will even be something worth reading now and again.

Been a while...

Yeah, I've been slacking. I took a few weeks away from work to study for a promotion test, and I kinda got out of the not-quite-well-established habit of blogging.

Susie's taken David to London for the day, in anticipatory celebration of her birthday tomorrow. So it's just Lily and me here today. We've got a full day planned, with a trip to the library, lunch out, and some other fun dad/daughter bonding things :)

I was inspired to write here today because I commented on a post over at Shamus Young's "Twenty-Sided" blog section. When you comment there, he asks you to enter your website, and I realized that if anyone read my comment, and came here, they'd find a somewhat outdated site. So I thought I'd at least post something.

I discovered Shamus' site when someone pointed me at the brilliant "DM Of The Rings" comic, which reimagines what "Lord of the Rings" might be like if it were a "Dungeons & Dragons"-type gaming session. If you're a gamer, check it out. I've added Shamus to my list of regular reads, and I'll be adding a link over on the side there next to Susie and Wil Wheaton.

Now, I've included some links above, and I know there's some sort of "Trackback" feature on some of them, which I think is supposed to let him know I've linked to him. But I don't know how to make it work, at least, not for sure, so, Shamus, if you read this, and it's NOT because of "trackback," sorry... I'll figure it out.

Who's the leader of the club...?

Susie and I took the kids for a surprise visit to "Disneyland Resort Paris" last weekend. We told them we were going to London for the day, and the next morning instead of taking the train home, we surprised them by getting on the Eurostar instead. We got in on Sunday afternoon, and left on Wednesday. For those of you considering a trip to "The Park Formerly Known as EuroDisney," here are a few observations:

1) French train stations suck. They're all (and I mean every one we saw, stopped at, or passed through) gray concrete and glass and cavernous. They aren't so much "buildings" as "big bus shelters." They keep the rain off, but they don't keep the wind out, because it's the kind of building where it's a roof held up by posts, and there are walls but they don't go all the way to the roof (or even the floor). They actually have space heaters scattered about, built in. The waiting rooms make the NY Port Authority bus station look like a suite at the Ritz. Have a look at the station right at the gates to Disney here.

2) Some French people are actually not rude. By this I mean the people who work at Disneyland, who are exceptionally well trained in "the Disney Way."

3) Many Disneyland visitors (and I mostly mean the French ones) are extremely rude. F'rinstance, when the four of us were wandering through the "Alice in Wonderland" labyrinth, enjoying letting Lily "lead" us, more than once we were literally physically shouldered aside by... pairs of adults. Yes, grim faced, determined, these couples acted as though they had been told that if they were not FIRST to the Red Queen's Castle at the end someone would take away their escargot. They have no concept of "getting in line" for something. David actually missed not one, not two, but THREE chances to get an autograph from Stitch (of Lilo & Stitch fame) because of both pushy children, and parents who shoved their children in front of him. Infuriating, and giving the parents the evil eye resulted in, of course, a gallic shrug (which, if you've always wondered exactly what that means, is a little shrug with a look of "And this is my problem, how, exactly?")

4) If you're going to go, and don't mind a little cold, go in the low season. Waiting times for most rides was under 5 minutes, and there's enough to do indoors that you don't mind the wind so much. And besides, the kids don't care, as long as they're bundled up (and sometimes even if they're not).

5) If you're going to do anything requiring a reservation (breakfast with the characters, for instance) take the first slot of the day. No one else does, and you get much much more value for your time. We did the character breakfast. The restaurant was set up with 25-30 tables, and there were 5 characters wandering the room interacting with the diners. There were only 6 full tables for the first seating. Halfway through the characters leave, and 5 more come out. Still only 6 tables. We had a blast having Mickey, Donald, and the rest at our table the entire time we were there, rather than having to fight for a few minutes of their attention with the other diners (and, see #3 above).

6) Eurostar: Nice train. Take the direct one from London to Disney, and avoid the change at Lille Europe. A missed connection, a late train, and your travel day is ruined.

All in all, a great trip, despite #3 up there, and #1 was only a problem at the end. If you're on "the list" you've probably been pointed to the slideshow highlights. If not, drop me a note and I'll send you directions.

Wow, this was a "fluff piece," wasn't it? :)

There I go, thinkin' again...

You know, I want to write about politics. I want to write about the situation in Iraq and Afghanistan. I have thoughts on this, as some of you might well imagine. But it seems so... pretentious. I just said in my last post that I knew what I wanted to write here, and I do. But it's just so heavy. So I'm going to just jump in.

I've seen pictures and videos of the Iraqi and Afghan armies, and heard the stories of the "rigorous" 2-day, or 2 week, or whatever, "basic training" program that they go through, and then I see them, on the news, walking the streets of Baghdad and Qandahar, looking completely unprepared. I hear stories of them helping insurgents, because they consider us occupiers rather than allies, because their imam has told them we are tools of Satan, or because they are using their newfound power for their own gain rather than to help their country. I see and hear all of this, and I despair of ever getting our troops out of there, because until those armies (and police forces, and anyone else with the official power to use force) thinks of themselves as professional and capable they will be little more than poorly trained Wild West posses.

But I have a suggestion...

No one in the world creates a more powerful or more deserved feeling of esprit de corps, belonging, and competence than the US Marine Corps. If you've ever known a Marine, you'll know what I mean. Their boot camp is grueling, demeaning, and demanding. It will tear a person down to nothing, then take that nothing turn it into a Marine. That Marine will never doubt his abilities or his loyalties, which are never to himself, but to his country, his Corps, and his comrades. This is the training we need to be giving to the Iraqi and Afghan armies. Then they will see themselves as protectors of their country. Then they will see that they have the real power, not the insurgents. And they will see that the real honor comes in using that power to build, not to destroy.

So I suggest that we take the two armies, in turns, to Parris Island and run the recruits through the full boot camp course. Teach them what it means to be a part of something bigger. And give them the actual skills they'll need to defend their country. And once they have the skills and confidence to do that, THEN we can leave them to it.