tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-124467502024-03-07T16:29:14.471-05:00The Hygiene ChroniclesStevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.comBlogger350125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-25063171973837733662009-10-10T09:57:00.004-04:002009-10-10T10:06:35.392-04:00Type CastingWe are out of town visiting friends and they have two girls that are Corey's age. The kids get along well and play all day long. Yesterday, Corey comes running in the room.<br /><br />Corey: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Daddy, I need to the Ninetendo DS."</span><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"I think it is on the table in the family room. But you shouldn't be playing your DS when you are all playing together."</span><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"No, it's okay. We're playing house."</span><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"I don't understand. Why do you need need the DS?"</span><br /><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"I'm playing the daddy so I need to be on the computer."</span><br /><br />SIGH.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-45893835953372602942009-08-30T08:30:00.004-04:002009-08-30T08:41:07.917-04:00A Word From Our Sponsors<div>Learning comes in many different forms. </div><div> </div><br />I love how inquisitive Corey is becoming. We no longer get the annoyingly vauge <em>"but why?"</em> questions. Instead, they are thoughtful and show a clear grasp of trying to solve problems. <div> </div><br /><div>One of our favorite movies is <span style="font-weight: bold;">Herbie Fully Loaded</span>. I will always be partial to the first Herbie, but Michael Keaton and Matt Dillon are great. We have easily watched this movie 50 times. </div><div> </div><br /><div>This weekend, Corey was watching the cars race around the track and asked, <em>"How come that car says Home Depot on it?</em>"</div><div> </div><br /><div>Good question, I thought. I paused the movie and explained that companies sponsor the drivers. By giving money to the racers, the companies could then put their names and logos on the cars. </div><div> </div><br /><div>He thought this was way cool. <em>"So when it says Quaker State and Cheetos...those companies gave money to them?"</em> </div><div> </div><br /><div>I answered affirmatively and suggested he look for the other names on the cars. </div><div> </div><br />We found Du Pont, Nextel, Loews...<br /><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgzSXtC9y_xvJtlF44X_2nzFH6hZCMPpkVEhOW5yEsrz-iaa8KycTWZd5ISS5CDA07D9Be365Td7DGvTJ3TwhbtwTSwXveSgA8Oks1GP03VONcgfQ862yxfuto2xWYfkncYSPuw/s1600-h/viagra.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgzSXtC9y_xvJtlF44X_2nzFH6hZCMPpkVEhOW5yEsrz-iaa8KycTWZd5ISS5CDA07D9Be365Td7DGvTJ3TwhbtwTSwXveSgA8Oks1GP03VONcgfQ862yxfuto2xWYfkncYSPuw/s320/viagra.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375735233711237826" border="0" /></a><em>"What's that one, daddy?"</em><br /></div><div><em>"Umm, that would be Viagra."</em><br /></div><div> </div><br />He then asked, <em>"What do they sell?"</em><br /><div>I thought for a moment. <em>"Assistance."</em> </div><div> </div><br /><div>Hey Disney, thanks for that teachable moment. </div><br /><div> </div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-41443118956362917232009-08-22T18:05:00.003-04:002009-08-22T18:10:14.685-04:00Life according to LucasFilmsOur conversation in the car today...<br /><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"How did Michael Jackson die?"</span><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"He died in his sleep."</span><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"Was he sick?"</span><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"He was taking some medications so he may not have been feeling well."</span><br /><br />(Pause) <br /><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"But he died in his sleep?"</span><br />Me: <span style="font-style: italic;">"Yep."</span><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"Cool. That's just like Yoda."</span>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-4494503606920435372009-08-15T12:04:00.005-04:002009-08-15T12:08:29.999-04:00Why I Love ViriginiaBecause you can buy your gun safe at Costco...right next to your Graco Pack-n-play and the Eddie Bauer car seat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYuCKAQBreYCxqRQeAsK4TwCQlA3ux8Axu0bKecCDt3zsveUGPQaNCyijGs1atEHHXQ2ZCCnrQv-Vx8Bye1lXpw1VrHRwdnhbf9yBOr19R06T89erJvX-qMRjbg-jiqTV0Mjx0cw/s1600-h/0815091105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYuCKAQBreYCxqRQeAsK4TwCQlA3ux8Axu0bKecCDt3zsveUGPQaNCyijGs1atEHHXQ2ZCCnrQv-Vx8Bye1lXpw1VrHRwdnhbf9yBOr19R06T89erJvX-qMRjbg-jiqTV0Mjx0cw/s320/0815091105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370223004781722866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0wtrjiGyW7R1Z6ZWTeL5mBbgXSikAqSBWshoP4MsD-l9TygDqhAlYuk3-bMTLPCKFGimX2cenlvcIxVUrixtUI8aLg11wJHVwAhUD6LzEjg52WkTv9fgKd2su8ZgMUdJ3QSaiQ/s1600-h/0815091105.jpg"><br /></a>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-49606004449539320632009-07-26T12:16:00.011-04:002009-07-27T14:17:59.468-04:00The Rite of PassageThis weekend, I finally succumbed to a tradition in parenting I thought just perhaps, the Good Lord would help me avoid: The Chuck E Cheese Party.<br /><br />Corey has been invited to a few in the past but his moms always took him to those. This year, for his 7th birthday party, he wanted to return the favor. It's like Vegas, Branson and Denny's all crammed into one germ-infested petri dish.<br /><br />It went smoother than I expected, but then again, my responsiblities consisted of showing up on time. The first hour was games, then 15 minutes of consuming as much pizza, cake, ice cream and soda as possible before returning to the games. Truthfully, eating that quickly and returning to the games threw me into a major sugar rush. My scores were WAY off compared to the first hour.<br /><br />I think there should be a rule much like swimming that you need to wait one hour before entering the game zone.<br /><br />That being said, I won over 200 tickets and only pissed off one kid who clearly should have seen I was on a streak and NOT asked to play my Street Hoops game. I'm fairly certain I will not be allowed back.<br /><br />For all the shit I give Chuck E Cheese, it is an amazing factory of organized crap. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDYTuW9j64kyHmINPGDwSa8S0H2mxFB7J1E85Xb4PgvoL7CI5hm14oDDVidzabmSom-Gv8rhvvzOAmU_iw33agGJFu8QTHplPJTzKoICBS-JFEfM0agOi__-RVhsg9RG2xtC52g/s1600-h/urinal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362803614470189362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 166px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRDYTuW9j64kyHmINPGDwSa8S0H2mxFB7J1E85Xb4PgvoL7CI5hm14oDDVidzabmSom-Gv8rhvvzOAmU_iw33agGJFu8QTHplPJTzKoICBS-JFEfM0agOi__-RVhsg9RG2xtC52g/s200/urinal.jpg" border="0" /></a>How smart to plan 5 parties at once and then only have one rat in costume? Brilliant.<br /><br />However, my one question is the bathroom designs. The only urinal in the place is about 3 inches off the ground. Not so easy on dad, who consumed 6 diet cokes during the three hours and then had to stand two feet back just to actually hit porcelain. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH045yTEOz-QR6QAskeqtqWs7CWrv5Dw-pHyOTpvBhLRk5qZXzX2KKo0pFyz-C1fGsR4g_FZMTFrAYPt_IxhG0CEfiumrqc0wwy3HTvy0mE9yGMhjKcARde_mC3ewPL3LuY2D9Fg/s1600-h/paper+towls.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362803681440761058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 168px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH045yTEOz-QR6QAskeqtqWs7CWrv5Dw-pHyOTpvBhLRk5qZXzX2KKo0pFyz-C1fGsR4g_FZMTFrAYPt_IxhG0CEfiumrqc0wwy3HTvy0mE9yGMhjKcARde_mC3ewPL3LuY2D9Fg/s200/paper+towls.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />But then someone installs the paper towels 5 feet off the floor. Seriously? How dumb is that?<br /><br />Clearly another reason I wasn't about to share my Street Hoops game with some kid who has wet hands.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-61472153359901490012009-07-24T14:15:00.013-04:002009-07-24T15:01:37.294-04:00Blogging FathersThree years ago, I was asked to become part of a fine <a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/05/becoming-part-of-family.html">group of men </a>that I highly respect. I had been blogging for over a year and was beginning to make friends with my fellow writers. One day, <a href="http://www.childsplayx2.com/">Matthew</a> emailed and said I was being invited to become a Blogfather. It opened a whole world for me; developing both friendships and skills.<br /><br />With my own blog, I was careful in my posts, but becoming a Blogfather...well, there was a greater need to craft the stories and put special attention towards my writing. After all, this was big time and I was going to be read by many people I had long since admired.<br /><br />Some of those posts were probably the best things I'd even written. They come from a place that few people can get to in normal conversations. But with writing, you expose a part of yourself that most don't really get to see. I even received a Perfect Post nomination for one of them. There is no great feeling that your writing inspires, elates or moves someone.<br /><br />I was pretty active on the site until school started two years ago. Hell, if you still read <a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/">Hygiene Chronicles</a> (given my lack of posting there), you should know that I did practically nothing at Blogfathers. Well, it seems no one posted there. I visited the site the other day and noticed it's not longer live.<br /><br />Luckily, I had saved copies of the posts and will put them on my site over the weekend. (If you use RSS feeds, my apologies for 'reposting'. )<br /><br />Until then, here are my favorite posts from Blogfathers. Enjoy.<br /><ul><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/05/for-those-about-to-rock.html">For Those About To Rock</a> </li><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/06/man-in-between.html">The Man in Between</a> </li><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/08/home-sweet-home.html">Home Sweet Home</a></li><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/08/pinewood-derby.html">The Pinewood Derby</a></li><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2006/09/dont-let-go.html">Don’t Let Go</a></li><li><a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-small-step-for-man.html">One Small Step for Man</a> </li></ul>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-87496054552816050782009-07-23T20:59:00.008-04:002009-07-24T07:00:42.410-04:00World's Colliding<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3DaMiyRIYV21VWtZyBrBpG_YsCege54DogELkXNGttl3uF5ZX4tkio1hD0aF77TB7FE7epbsGeSsPaJWXoOtiSPiEi52A6DwGxy3AmxgMtPI7W482RzVXF5L_9ba0hmHWrSYHw/s1600-h/house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3DaMiyRIYV21VWtZyBrBpG_YsCege54DogELkXNGttl3uF5ZX4tkio1hD0aF77TB7FE7epbsGeSsPaJWXoOtiSPiEi52A6DwGxy3AmxgMtPI7W482RzVXF5L_9ba0hmHWrSYHw/s200/house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361826981151948434" border="0" /></a>Three weeks ago today we moved into the new house. In some ways, it feels like yesterday; in others, it feels like we've always lived here. I'm amazed at how easy it feels to call this place home.<br /><br />Luckily, almost everything fits and we find that this house allows many pieces of furniture and paintings to be showcased even better. A living room couch that was never used is now in the family room right in front of the TV. Things fit even better into these cabinets. And the master bedroom closets ROCK!<br /><br />What's more...we love Virginia. We love being close to Corey, we love the conveniences of having so many stores close by and Larry loves the short drive to work. Seeing our friends has never been so convenient.<br /><br />And we love our neighbors. Since this is a brand new street of houses, everyone is moving in fresh. There is no 'old man Withers' who terrorizes the neighborhood because he's lived here since Moses was a child. We are all going through the same difficulties associated with moving. We're all reaching out and helping one another.<br /><br />But for some of us, we are connected even more.<br /><br />Today, Facebook sends me an email because I've been tagged in an old picture by one of Corey's mom. This woman writes to the mom, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ummm, I think your son's dads are my new neighbors."</span><br /><br />Sure enough, she used to work with the mom and now we live on the same street. So we Facebook each other.<br /><br />Then she writes me. <span style="font-style: italic;">"Facebook says we both know </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://sarahandthegoonsquad.com/">Sarah</a><span style="font-style: italic;">. How do you know her?"</span><br /><br />I write back <span style="font-style: italic;">"Well, she & I met blogging. She writes a fabulously funny blog and we connected because I write the Hygiene Chronicles."</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTmJsakmq1Oxv1Qh3KAujWNlW-5VYAZQNdVY43_EUMT06YqLUVS_6S49ZHaD6zA6lurAbplTfibP81zrKEIpP4lJe4BRfebL31EMFrLWiI8OgKQYiwFhyx32Zx9DGpQ-MNbAY2w/s1600-h/115390106_059b1dcc65.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 50px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTmJsakmq1Oxv1Qh3KAujWNlW-5VYAZQNdVY43_EUMT06YqLUVS_6S49ZHaD6zA6lurAbplTfibP81zrKEIpP4lJe4BRfebL31EMFrLWiI8OgKQYiwFhyx32Zx9DGpQ-MNbAY2w/s200/115390106_059b1dcc65.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361829562873867426" border="0" /></a>Immediate the email responds. <span style="font-style: italic;">"HOLY CRAP. I've read you at Blogfathers. I'm </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://lumpyhead.blogspot.com/">Lummpyhead'</a><span style="font-style: italic;">s mom."</span><br /><br />I could not love this street anymore.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-8131857885825470162009-06-15T10:30:00.004-04:002009-06-15T10:42:17.634-04:00Moving on OutI began writing this post on May 24 and just haven't gotten through it because of packing. Now, it's all done and it seems appropriate to finish.<br /><br />Tonight is the last night in our house. Sixteen years of being in one location ends tomorrow. The closing date for the DC house is June 18 and the moving trucks arrive in the morning. When I get home tonight, the only left to go into boxes is the toaster and coffee maker. We've raided Home Depot every couple of days for wardrobe boxes and paper to wrap glassware. The house echos since there are no pictures anywhere and all that dominates each room is stacks of cardboard containers.<br /><br />We will be closing on the Virginia house June 29. Unfortunately, I'll be in Boston so poor Larry will have to sign the documentation for both of us. I return July 1 and we are hoping to schedule the moving crew for July 2. With luck, that should be our first night in our new home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LSA77knk-Z_SOBlshJaJRsawRpXbmji_LGGXMQ5VEvAn7pL_9c-52-Bxvvutbpvm-zYb_nl0lH352svZFWT1upSBZ-se9OoaBcoTPUFIlERO2h5EKzmYb9rKbNV1VaJzQuvNDg/s1600-h/hotel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339532240004207154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LSA77knk-Z_SOBlshJaJRsawRpXbmji_LGGXMQ5VEvAn7pL_9c-52-Bxvvutbpvm-zYb_nl0lH352svZFWT1upSBZ-se9OoaBcoTPUFIlERO2h5EKzmYb9rKbNV1VaJzQuvNDg/s200/hotel.jpg" border="0" /></a>Between now and then, Larry & I will be bunking down at the Residence Inn. We swung by a few weeks ago to see just how big of a room we will get. Umm, holy crap. You have to really love one another to be in this close of space for three weeks. This could be it's own reality show to see gets executed first. The good part is breakfast and light dinners are served there nightly. The bad new is, no hot tub.<br /><br />Life never stops providing adventures. However, I'm going to really enjoy daily maid service for a few weeks.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-34764315555488717452009-05-21T18:15:00.000-04:002009-05-21T18:35:42.401-04:00What I Learned in Grad SchoolThe program may be over, but the lessons stay with you forever.<br /><ol><li>At 42, I discovered that accounting was based on credits and debits. Who knew?</li><li>Cliques are still rampant as hell. You find your academic soulmates within 2 days.<br /></li><li>Professors LOVE to have you read their text books. Hell, at $99 a pop, it probably pays better than teaching the 4-week class. </li><li>Half.com can then sell that same book and recoup almost 45% the original value.</li><li>Finance is one of the most complicated aspects of business. But if you master it, you're golden. </li><li>I still have no short-term memory. I mean the moment I would open a book...wait, what number are we on? </li><li>Michael Porter is considered the God of MBA programs. He made my life a living hell.<br /></li><li>Every class still has a prom queen and a dork. </li><li>The professors who teach the more obscure classes (cough, cough...ethics) are usually the most adamant about how valuable their subjects are to the business community. Clearly the scholastic Napoleon complex.</li><li>Executive-level programs, no matter how much more money they cost, are worth every penny to have your books handed to you and never step one foot into the bookstore. </li><li>My student ID gets me discounts at movie theaters. So by going to 35,000 movies I should make a profit from this education.<br /></li><li>When going to Vietnam, buy more things, even if you think you don't need them. Spa treatments are also less than half the price than in the states.</li><li>Having laptops with Internet connection in classrooms is probably the single biggest mistake in the educational system.<br /></li><li>Working in teams sounds like it will be less work...it isn't; it's usually worse.</li><li>Making yourself just one little bit smarter, is the best thing you can ever do.<br /></li></ol>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-64035262209475037982009-05-16T09:00:00.000-04:002009-05-16T09:03:00.039-04:00Rights, Privileges and Responsibilities Thereunto Appertaining<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-dN-4ErTg0VEZKenx8T3zoU1v8LjjJgBimul93A6TpHTK5ZmSZRoTY5CXHliH9fJJeIfJF1ode7iz21MFcCEHkUDe7_suQMbupkhuNPtDzr2Ldp_KfuE0lovD8Sh1kc1pPVzJw/s1600-h/grad+pic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-dN-4ErTg0VEZKenx8T3zoU1v8LjjJgBimul93A6TpHTK5ZmSZRoTY5CXHliH9fJJeIfJF1ode7iz21MFcCEHkUDe7_suQMbupkhuNPtDzr2Ldp_KfuE0lovD8Sh1kc1pPVzJw/s320/grad+pic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336404311572995330" border="0" /></a><div> </div><br /><div>The day I thought would never arrive, finally happened; Graduation. Two years ago, I began the long journey of grad school. Last night, it all came to a closure as I walked across the George Washington University stage.<br /><br /></div><div> </div><div>While the celebration commemorated my achievements, I walked on behalf of four others, who without their support, I never could have gotten this degree. Through their actions and encouragement, they made it possible for me to go to school. Last night was about them just as much as it was about me.<br /></div><div> </div><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">To my son's moms</span>: You have done so much to give Corey the best life a little boy could ask for. He's healthy, happy and well-adjusted. Clearly that doesn't come from someone in grad school. You bore the brunt of parenting these past two years. It was all too easy to say I had a child when you did so much of the work. I am truly honored to be part of the best parenting team ever. </div><div> </div><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">To my Son:</span> For two years, I've been deficient in my responsibilities as a father. You have never once complained and accepted whatever time we had together. We had such little time together and even then, I would grab a book as soon as you started playing. I short-changed you more times than I can count, but it means the world to know you still love me as much as you do. I promise to be there from now on. </div><div> </div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">To my Partner: </span>No one listened to me complain more than you. When I felt like quitting, you talked me out of it. When I hated my classes, you encouraged me to get through it. When I degraded myself for not having a enough brains to be in this program, you pushed me back up. You kept me fed, sane and out of prison (for not killing my team year 1). <br /><div> </div><br /><div>This degree, I share with you. No one can earn something by themselves and I cetainly learned that these last two years. I love you all and am so happy to call you my family. </div><br /><div> </div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-75140373291451087382009-05-13T10:12:00.008-04:002009-05-13T11:36:33.670-04:00First Class?Dear Post Office,<br /><br />Let me be blunt; I hate you. I've written <a href="http://hchrons.blogspot.com/2005/06/finding-georgia.html">before</a> about how stupid you are. It amazes me you are able to stay in business, except that you really have no competition. I can only hope that the Internet makes you so obsolete that you go out of business.<br /><br />Last year you screwed me with your Automatic Postage Machine. Being so excited not to deal with your personnel, I used if for every transaction possible. In February 2008, when I went to buy 100 stamps for work, it issued Christmas stamps. Quite obviously, I couldn't use them for business given that our all customers are not Christian. When I asked to exchange them, you told me you were unable to take back previously issued merchandise. And the supervisor agreed with you. Stupid people.<br /><br />I sell books on Half.com and most of that goes out media mail. Each time, I tell you <em>"It's media mail; just a book." </em>And every time you ask <em>"Is there anything dangerous, liquid or perishable?"</em> as if I'm dumber than a ficus tree. One time I even said <em>"Just a shovel"</em> and you went about your business without batting an eye. Useless Robot.<br /><br />Today you told me that I could no longer use my credit card to purchase anything because I hadn't signed it. It says "Please check ID" on the back and I hand you my driver's license each time. <em>"Where am I supposed to sign it?"</em> I asked, pointing out there was no room left in the signature block. You shrugged your shoulders. Clearly uttering words was too much work.<br /><br />I'm tired of you punishing me for doing business with you. I pay you and you treat me as if I'm causing you an inconvenience. You want inconvenience...fine.<br /><br />I'll pay the entire bill in nickles from now on. I'll ask you about every delivery option available just so you have to talk for 10 minutes. I wish I could fart into the package and make you smell it behind that bullet-proof glass.<br /><br />Good luck with this mail thing. I'm paying most bills online. Magazine & Newspapers can be received <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Magazines-Journals-Kindle/b?ie=UTF8&node=241646011">other ways</a>. FedEx and UPS are getting cheaper.<br /><br />You get from people what you give. I hope people put you out of business faster than you can say 'Forever Stamp'.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-85494787381693974182009-05-10T18:35:00.004-04:002009-05-10T19:11:35.967-04:00Family TimeThe little boy who sat next to me was probably 4. He wore a pair of striped shorts and Diego tee shirt. He was playing with his cars. He kept to himself though he talked a lot and tried to get his mommy's attention. Every once in a while he would ask questions.<br /><br />Another little girl sat right behind me on her daddy's lap. She was pretty fussy and spent most of her time grabbing at her food. She cried a couple of times but hey, she was only 2 so who could blame her.<br /><br />How nice to see parents out with their young children. Family time is always treasured and I love watching people spend their weekends as a family.<br /><br />Except when I'm at the theater seeing <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Wolverine</span>.<br /><br />As much as I tried to concentrate on the (not-so-great) film, I was just taken back by this appalling lack of responsibility. For the love of God people, why on earth would you think you are good parents by taking your youngsters to <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Wolverine</span>? What kind of example do you think you are setting for these kids?<br /><br />There are days I cringe when Corey asks for <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Herbie Goes Bananas</span> for the umpteenth million time. But the sound of him laughing just makes it worthwhile each time I sit there.<br /><br />For this little boy in the theater, what reference of being 4-years-old does he have when he's watching a movie like this? I can only think of how distorted his world view is when it is all at a PG-13 level.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-10620074147787436012009-04-20T21:22:00.007-04:002009-04-23T19:21:45.662-04:00Almost BackDoes it feel like I've been gone forever? It totally does from this end. Not much longer folks, just don't give up on me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">School</span><br />My last class day is tomorrow. I'm stunned. May 3-8 is our final residency and graduation is May 15. It feel like it flew by at some moments and dragged at others, but who cares...it's done.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEges3gj1j0umei-uwgeidPMkibNHfiV8VzeKuqE5lllFxAOnMbY4wKP9g2J6zymRQW0UjGdhnOsEqmHMsT0J95XXKJNp5YB2Jwkm01LH4OytxYRSzUx_KwRfhSgeVVgOmtSdsz0og/s1600-h/0423091829_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEges3gj1j0umei-uwgeidPMkibNHfiV8VzeKuqE5lllFxAOnMbY4wKP9g2J6zymRQW0UjGdhnOsEqmHMsT0J95XXKJNp5YB2Jwkm01LH4OytxYRSzUx_KwRfhSgeVVgOmtSdsz0og/s200/0423091829_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328029465948317730" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Old House</span><br />The current house was listed last Friday. We've never kept a house so clean in our lives. Everything gets buried into drawers as soon as we walk out the door.<br /><br />Sunday was the first open house which produced a lot of foot traffic. We've had a major nibble and should hopefully be able to announce something within the next few days if all goes well.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">New House</span><br />Still on schedule for mid-July. I've never loved Tyvek so much in my life. The windows went in this past week. There's a pile of bricks sitting in the front that should go on the front of the house shortly. It's coming together nicely.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Train Wreck</span><br />I will leave you with one funny gem. Larry found a marathon of this reality show called <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/joseph/">Any Dream Will Do</a> on BBC. This is a casting call for a new production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. The show is similar to the Grease "<span style="font-style: italic;">You're the One that I Want</span>" show that America did, except this version is so much campier and probably the gayest entertainment since the Birdcage.<br /><br />The judges are dreadful and the host Graham Norton is annoying as shit. The Lord (yes they call him that) Andrew Lloyd Weber gives the final yes or no if the Joseph stays that week.<br /><br />But what nearly made me wet myself was the 'dismissal' song that each fallen Joseph goes through as the remaining contestant strip him of his coat. Bloodly brilliant.<br /><br /><center><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1uhNkTsdgHI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1uhNkTsdgHI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></center>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-1931881811891087362009-03-26T10:42:00.007-04:002009-03-26T10:56:56.319-04:00Domestic ViloenceSometimes pictures can say a thousand words. <p>But doesn't it suck when the picture says one thing, but the true explanation isn't as exciting?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHHzRS8RmAj8rXAQa_iJPJPeF6QpWzSv9HXVm0ZRLlyGdATPHtG7xMcfWsYGo550vfu4EsVDtOAxg4dXzlovgW6npac59DC3VvM1l9Z_e4GL9dmg8iqadq8g3mfFtABk6uv_9tfA/s1600-h/hole+in+wall.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317507424035977346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 326px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHHzRS8RmAj8rXAQa_iJPJPeF6QpWzSv9HXVm0ZRLlyGdATPHtG7xMcfWsYGo550vfu4EsVDtOAxg4dXzlovgW6npac59DC3VvM1l9Z_e4GL9dmg8iqadq8g3mfFtABk6uv_9tfA/s400/hole+in+wall.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The cool story would be that Larry gets all liquored up and when he's out of control, I have to body slam him into the wall in order to calm him down. You can just see the new WWF show: Gay Man Smackdown. <p>Sadly, Larry just got progressive bifocals. He went to pick up the remote control and realized objects change distances mid-reach. He missed, fell over and the wall "caught" him. <p>Luckily, the contractor who is working on our basement is still here. He just made a few more dollars on us. <p>We need a more exciting life.<br /></p>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-245588575491960952009-03-23T14:12:00.002-04:002009-03-23T14:13:26.963-04:00GroundbreakersIt has begun...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDj05bPjAQ_B7STs-GHMp-DYhrp7C9M9KxFTlvqLpeet-fK4kk6OJwN3jdSlouAwcTWAZfRLEc4WZx1ueH2ddVEDlOWGLOPLm3E5DsmNuWlC_LwY-ZwqdkgE-joek36Rf6IWEe7Q/s1600-h/0322091332_01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316447724233604434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDj05bPjAQ_B7STs-GHMp-DYhrp7C9M9KxFTlvqLpeet-fK4kk6OJwN3jdSlouAwcTWAZfRLEc4WZx1ueH2ddVEDlOWGLOPLm3E5DsmNuWlC_LwY-ZwqdkgE-joek36Rf6IWEe7Q/s400/0322091332_01.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-28193958039298638212009-03-08T12:29:00.003-04:002009-03-08T12:39:44.288-04:00Lot 15<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8sPjCgf6ZvLG26PABPWRjV_5W3TFTjolzP7r0YLeHpnEoSFvqcjlebK2xxHZgJkqpmxuR3FufBUwElVoIxEtQ6wfA1Fv9yfFUwqegxbnUqRP8s9rADHCZiX8aN1L0iHFV2rhwLA/s1600-h/bathroom.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8sPjCgf6ZvLG26PABPWRjV_5W3TFTjolzP7r0YLeHpnEoSFvqcjlebK2xxHZgJkqpmxuR3FufBUwElVoIxEtQ6wfA1Fv9yfFUwqegxbnUqRP8s9rADHCZiX8aN1L0iHFV2rhwLA/s400/bathroom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310857111466065730" border="0" /></a><br />We seem to be progressing slowly, but it looks as though they have a bathroom already in place.<br /><br />Honestly, we're fine with still seeing a pile of dirt. The longer they delay, the longer we have to sell the current house (which goes on the market in about 2-3 weeks).Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-68733322738894040362009-03-02T16:22:00.005-05:002009-03-02T16:42:58.281-05:00Snow Day = Blog DayA whole month since my last post. Geez, it's embarrassing. Don't give up on me. I swear I'll be back soon. Here's what February brought.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">New House</span><br />We've had a number of meetings these past weeks. Remember how I said the great part was that you could pick everything you wanted for a new house? Well, you <span style="font-weight: bold;">actually </span>have to pick everything. We've had meetings with the builder, the designers and the electricians.<br /><br />For the most part, we're not straying far from the colors, cabinetry, tiling, and other styles we've already used for our remodeling jobs at this current house. And we each decided to pick one nice upgrade. Larry opted for the wider plank boards for the hardwood floors on the first level.<br /><br />Me? I went for the Sony Homeshare media station, allowing me to play and CONTROL the iPod from 4 different rooms using one central docking station. Technology kicks ass!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">School</span><br />Seven more classes. SEVEN. I am so done with the program...not because I hate it, just because I'm tired of studying and schoolwork. Friday is my last day of Entrepreneurship and the following week ends Marketing. All that is left is Ethics, Negotiations and a final closing residency...which I hope is mostly trust falls and ropes courses.<br /><br />Graduation is May 15th which ironically is 20 years to the same week I graduated college. On that day, I vowed never to go back to school again. I'm glad I didn't listen.<br /><br />But seriously, if you're still with me 20 years from now, don't let me go for my PhD in 2029.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Snow Day</span><br />I love the fact that DC can't seem to handle large amounts of snow. (And by large, I mean my street got 5 inches.) I did a whole week's worth of homework today. I also took a two-hour nap. Who loves bad weather?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Boy Wonder</span><br />Corey is doing great. He constantly amazes me at how fast kids learn these days. He reads so well that every single book we have at this house is beyond him. His new obsession is those word search puzzles. Every time we go to a restaurant and he gets a kids menu, he'll push his dinner aside just to finish the puzzle on it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Happy Holidays </span><br />My folks arrive in three weeks for our late Christmas celebration. I have the week off for Spring Break so they'll come here since we didn't travel in December. While I have a number of gifts bought, I realized that most of the Christmas stuff got packed away into a pod a few weeks ago; wrapping paper, bows, bags & tags. Mom & Dad will be stuck with presents in baby shower themes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">POWER</span><br />My parents are asking what I want for a graduation gift. I've toyed with the iTouch, but then my friend Mark lent me something last week that changed my mind forever...a power washer. Holy shit, have you ever used one? It's perfect for someone who is both compulsive and loves horsepower. I washed everything within 25 feet of the house; the siding, the patio, the deck. Hell, I started washing the alley, but then realized I didn't have enough cord.<br /><br />OK, that's it for me. Catch you in a few weeks.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-62747767672634272182009-02-01T12:20:00.000-05:002009-02-01T12:32:49.039-05:00When you're talking home, you mean the Old DominionWell the big news can be broken...<br /><br />We are moving. This weekend we signed a contract on a house in Virginia. Since it's new construction, we won't be moving until mid-summer giving us time to sell this place and giving me a fighting chance to finish school. But we are thrilled and if I had my way, I'd start painting tomorrow. (Albeit a little difficult since the foundation hasn't been poured yet.)<br /><br />For six years, we've lived about 30 minutes from Corey's moms. It was never a huge issue, but as he's gotten older, we've noticed that we're missing more activities and he's getting an abundance of tardy slips when we drop him off late in the mornings. The time has come to be closer.<br /><br />As much as we'll miss this house after 16 years of being here, there is something to be said for new beginnings. And even more important, there's something to be said for dropping your son off to school on time.<br /><br />Regardless, it's exciting and now I'll have even more blogging material.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-82277083401669115632009-01-21T20:34:00.001-05:002009-01-21T21:20:18.851-05:00Through Her EyesThis weekend we had the distinct privilege of hosting the <a href="http://theinnerdoor.wordpress.com/">Chilis</a> as they, along with thousands of others braved their way to DC for the inauguration of Barack Obama. Over the years, I've become good friends with Mrs. Chili having been connected to her through another blogger. We've shared many a laugh and even a burger once as she passed through National airport.<br /><br />One of the things I've come to respect about Chili is her passion. She is woman who can voice an opinion stronger than Oprah, multi-task better than Martha Stewart and swear worse than Gary Busey. But through and through, she is passionate.<br /><br />She and her family drove from New England to witness history this week. On Tuesday, they woke at 5:30 AM and jumped on Metro within 30 minutes, heading downtown. Twenty degrees and a few granola bars in their pockets; she, her husband and two kids each took off wearing two pairs of socks, two hats, gloves and more layers than I could count. They crammed onto Metro cars, squeezed up escalators, walked several blocks and stood shoulder to shoulder with thousands of new friends.<br /><br />As we were planning the activities in our family room the night before, the TV was playing with weather and transportation updates. All of sudden, Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech played...and she teared up. Another segment aired a little while later...and she cried again. The next day as they recounted their experience and how it fulfilled everything she hoped for, she choked up once more.<br /><br />As she welled with emotion over the two days, I could not have been happier for her. But I realized at the same time...I have never felt that same passion about anything (aside from maybe my family and dear friends). The inauguration was amazing; for what it represented and what other people felt. I was thrilled for her happiness, but I could not create those same feelings inside.<br /><br />These are the moments when I realize how emotionally divested I've become over the years. I can celebrate other's joys and sadness, but rarely will it affect me personally. I no longer cry at funerals or movies. It's difficult for me to stay engaged in activities beyond a few months. I don't even get worked up when Sally Struthers talks about the starving children (though much of that stems from my belief that she's eating a large portion of the food herself).<br /><br />Watching Chili's laughter and reflection made me realize how much I miss that in myself. It was there inside me at one point...but somewhere, has slowly gone. I appreciate it in others, but none of these feelings exist deep down. Who knows if it's the speed at which life is going or some scarring over the years that has made me this jaded.<br /><br />Regardless, it was nice to be a part of that passion this week. Living this event through her was probably the best way to experience something so historic and memorable. She thanked me over and over for what a magical experience it was, but I think it was I who got the better end of the deal.Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-19979647125355245212009-01-07T08:00:00.000-05:002009-01-07T08:20:28.586-05:00It's 2009 Already?I'm having a hard time gearing back into blogging for this year. Let's attribute that to my (self-diagnosed) Seasonal Affect Disorder...which sits right up there with my (self-diagnosed) ADD. Who needs medical coverage when I have all this insight into afflictions?<br /><br />I'm not a huge fan of cold or evenings that get dark at 5PM or realizing that I'm in contention to replace Valerie Bertinelli for Weight Watchers, but then again, I really have no control over it. The sooner winter is over, the happier I'll be. (As I sit here complaining even though we haven't had our first snow fall yet.)<br /><br />My last semester began on Saturday. It was a harsh reality to start school on Jan 3, but then again the 16-week countdown began. Thank God I have no math-based classes this semester. I won't tell you my grade for Financial Strategy, but if it was applied directly to my life, I wouldn't even be able balance my checkbook.<br /><br />Six classes this term:<br /><ul><li>Executive Communication (turns out that doesn't include updating your Facebook status)</li><li>Business Law (I'm Johnny Cochran and I'll defend you.)<br /></li><li>Marketing Strategy (Wait, there's strategy?)<br /></li><li>Entrepreneurship and New Venture Creation (What about the Craigslist sales; does that count?)<br /></li><li>Ethics & Corporate Governance (hmmm, listing things on eBbay during work hours might not put me in contention for an A.)<br /></li><li>Negotiations (I'm going to have Venti latte AND there'd better not be sweetener in it!)<br /></li></ul>Graduation is May 15 and I think we're ALL ready for that to happen.<br /><br />The biggest thing hitting us right now is Inauguration. Every day is a new prediction of another 500,000 people coming or that Oprah is renting out Dulles Airport for her show. The fanfare is crazy. Once everyone talked about renting out our homes, now many locals are just trying get out of town for the long weekend.<br /><br />Larry's company is having 3000 high school kids in town so he'll be swamped the whole week. I'm planning on watching lots of Law & Order for 4 days. We're also hosting the <a href="http://theinnerdoor.wordpress.com/">Chilis</a> on Inauguration night as they brave their way here from the Northeast. I'm too cynical on parties with 5 million people so it'll be fun to watch it through their eyes.<br /><br />Other big news is growing too, but I won't write about it yet in hopes of not jinxing anything. Wait, did I just jinx it by saying that? (And NO, we're not pregnant.)Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-81194041845088445662008-12-24T15:21:00.003-05:002008-12-24T15:26:22.131-05:00Merry ChristmasCorey: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Pop Pop, you know what I want for Christmas? Nintendo DS."</span><br />Larry: <span style="font-style: italic;">"If you are good, Santa will buy you one this year."</span><br />Corey: <span style="font-style: italic;">"You are silly; Santa has elves. He doesn't have to buy anything."</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">May you have a Rockin' Christmas.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpooT3M4QRr2DV2lrOJijDPrOic5oYp-BtXVCWJXeRAsu2oD3zURidD0iMbUaYkv0wIx1DUyAgigkrzGwenQnb09j2rwxSgv-h_QJV2d2tsjEhk7M5nqF5dfY1SvQRsAIFyS4pg/s1600-h/photo+card+2008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidpooT3M4QRr2DV2lrOJijDPrOic5oYp-BtXVCWJXeRAsu2oD3zURidD0iMbUaYkv0wIx1DUyAgigkrzGwenQnb09j2rwxSgv-h_QJV2d2tsjEhk7M5nqF5dfY1SvQRsAIFyS4pg/s400/photo+card+2008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283455432175337330" border="0" /></a>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-59074781467792314352008-12-20T17:15:00.016-05:002008-12-21T15:41:38.972-05:00There's No Stopping Us<span style="font-style: italic;">"Daddy, want to see my new dance moves?"</span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gd2jZM3rhKc&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gd2jZM3rhKc&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-66721149908096880122008-12-18T09:22:00.000-05:002008-12-18T09:33:18.480-05:00Turning in my 'Card'My last day of class for the semester was on Friday. I now have three weeks of freedom until school starts up again in January<br /><br />Our class days are each 9 hours long, with an hour for lunch and a few breaks during the day. During one of the breaks, my classmate Mark, a naval officer, and I were chatting.<br /><br />Mark: <em>"Did you go to work on Wednesday (Dec 10)?"</em><br />ME: <em>"Umm, yeah...of course. Why wouldn't I work?"</em><br />Mark: <em>"I figured you'd take off to protest the Prop 8 thing?"</em><br />ME: <em>"Why would I do that?"</em><br />Mark: <em>"Dude, it was 'Call in Gay Day' on Wednesday. Pete </em>(a mid-level exec with a construction firm)<em> and I were talking about it at study group and we figured you be out of work."</em><br />ME: <em>"Seriously I had no idea. I'm totally out of touch with those kinds of things."</em><br />Mark: <em>"Don't you find it a little disturbing that you have no idea when your people are doing things?"</em><br />ME: <em>"I think it's more distrubing that the navy guy and the construction guy knew about 'Call in Gay Day' and neither of you are even in the Village People."</em><br /><br />(Pause)<br /><br />Mark: <em>"Point taken."</em><br /><br /><em></em>Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-48785680466127590092008-12-01T07:18:00.007-05:002008-12-01T08:26:12.138-05:00Howdy PartnerWe spent the past four days doing...well, nothing. Corey and his moms came over on Thursday and other than that, we did nothing all weekend. OK, there was little studying and a lot of sleeping & watching TV, but I was thankful to have a low-key holiday.<br /><br />Larry & I also had another thing to be thankful for this month. Both of our companies announced domestic partner insurance benefits for 2009. I know this might slip under the radar for many of you, but this is HUGE for us. For the first time in our lives, if either of us became unemployed, we don't have to scramble to find a job just for medical coverage.<br /><br />I know there is COBRA but do you realize, this also allows one of us to pursue any independent career and not worry about trying to afford individual insurance. We've always been tied to jobs because of medical benefits. Hell, I stayed at my last miserable company while I searched for job primarily for the medical coverage.<br /><br />In the late 90's, I worked for an grocery association that had way too much money. The CFO wanted Lasik eye surgery and quickly distributed a health care memo allowing for the entire process to be covered under insurance. Since his wife wanted it as well, dependents were also included. I quickly went to HR to try putting Larry on my plan since he wanted the surgery. The company said it couldn't afford to add partnerships because then anyone who lived together for more than a few years could take advantage of policy and break them.<br /><br />Of the 212 employees, only 2 of us qualified under the policy. That same year, one guy in the exhibit department got married, his new wife had the surgery 6 weeks later and then divorced him within a year. Phew...I could see the tight constraints needed to protect reckless spending.<br /><br />Larry & I have spent much of our life together creating protective documentation. We have living wills so that Larry can pull the plug on me AND decide where I'm buried instead of that rite going to my parents. I can inherit his retirement instead of some cousin in Colorado that I've never met. And legal paperwork allows me to enter his hospital room. Right or wrong, it's just something you get used to.<br /><br />But new doors have been opened with partner coverage. I actually could become a consultant if I wished. I'm not certain that's my path, but it's nice to have options, isn't it?<br /><br />Hope you had a nice Thanksgiving!Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12446750.post-8547665957919593712008-11-16T17:14:00.004-05:002008-11-16T17:41:27.616-05:00ThunderstruckAwestruck was more like.<br /><br />I was lucky enough to see the AC/DC Black Ice Tour at Verizon Center last night. Holy crap; it was beyond amazing. Brian Johnson (who is scarily 4 years younger than my mom!) still has the pipes to pull off <span style="font-style: italic;">Highway to Hell</span>. Angus scared the crap outta me when he proceeded to disrobe from his school uniform to his shorts, but that man is still one of the best guitarist alive. His <span style="font-style: italic;">Let There Be Rock</span> solo was truly magic. The show never disappointed (aside from a strange metal group from Belfast).<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TxTXPmTzLR4&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TxTXPmTzLR4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong>Setlist:<br /></strong><br />Rock n Roll Train<br />Hell Ain't a Bad Place To be<br />Back In Black<br />Big Jack<br />Dirty deeds done dirt cheap<br />Thunderstruck<br />Black Ice<br />The Jack<br />Hells Bells<br />Shoot to thrill<br />War Machine<br />Anything Goes<br />You Shook Me all night long<br />TNT<br />Whole lotta Rosie<br />Let There Be Rock<br /><br /><strong>Encore:<br /></strong>Highway To Hell<br />For Those About To Rock<br /><br />In celebration of the AC/DC concert, enjoy this <a href="http://www.theblogfathers.com/">BlogFather</a> oldie but goodie from 2006:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Those About to Rock</span></span><br />How many times do we impulsively buy something at the store? The display looks great and we know that we totally don’t need it. But it ends up in the cart and we take it home only to lament hours later that the money could have been better spent on something else.<br /><br />I had the reverse happen this weekend. Every Saturday we somehow end up at Target. It’s an easy store to do one-stop shopping, plus the Corey can run around and not get too far away. Target is one of those stores that does a lot of wallet-damage for us. We never leave without dropping $50 or more on things we really don’t need. This time however, the item I most desired, escaped me.<br /><br />Corey inherits a ton of clothes from his cousin who is about nine months older than him. Most are in great condition, so rarely do we need more outfits. That doesn’t seem to stop us every time we pass through the kid’s clothing section. It never hurts to get a new shirt or pair of slacks.<br /><br />Larry was over in the swimwear section salivating over this ’shark attack’ theme shirt & trunks combo. The kid has three swim trunks already, but I had to admit, this was a cute set. Into the cart it went. When all of sudden my eyes caught hold something on the other side the boys section.<br /><br />You know those moments when your mind grabs hold of something before your brain can process it? Almost like a sixth sense, you instantly react and then marvel at your near-superhuman powers of response. I saw the shirt my son must own.<br /><br />You could have mistaken me for Jackie Joyner Kersee (except for being a gay white male, about 5’9, and missing the dreads and long finger nails.) as I ran near double speed to grab the only XXS shirt they had left. In my mind, it was a foot race between me and… Actually no one else was near, but AC/DC totally seemed like a reason to knock over the display of ½ price pajamas.<br /><br />What better way to set up my young child to become respected among his peers? To be the envy of his friends. And for me to be known as the ultimate bitchin’ dad who lets his son wear this outfit to … well … room 4 of Creative Playland. Trust me, there will be jealousy. Angus Young, totally kicking my Pretty Pony’s hindquarters.<br /><br />I held up the shirt high like a beer bong at a fraternity party; the ultimate sign of manhood dangling from a plastic hanger. My other hand shot up in the air with the index finger and pinky extended as I shouted across menswear, “<span style="font-style: italic;">Rock ON, my little man.</span>”<br /><br />And he laughed; Larry just laughed. Years of heavy metal pride seeped from my pours in anguish. After all, I camped out for two days to get Telsa/Poison tickets in Cincinnati. What better way to pass on a legacy to my son then with 80’s metal?<br /><br />I pleaded for the shirt. “<span style="font-style: italic;">Please, let me, I mean him get it. He really wants it. He looks good in black. He looks good in … ‘Back in Black’.</span>” Instinctively, I reached for my air guitar and hit the most amazing C chord. You should have heard it. MAGIC!<br /><br />And that was when I lost my case. Larry looked over and said, “<span style="font-style: italic;">No way am I having two little boys in my house singing Skid Road.</span>”<br /><br />(UGH. Skid Row you dumb ass.)<br /><br />So we went home. My (ARGH), I mean his AC/DC shirt left hanging there for some undeserving child to pick up and wear while finger painting. No art of the Brian Johnson screeches being passed down from generation to generation. Instead, we have ‘shark attack’ swim trunks. Yippee!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBzncGMix9d1KaPXnjACRaFCSbN9lQuKoNeubDgl-LpVvi0MNBMA6hyphenhyphenIieFvkC2dckt6IpYodwklSUOTg-fRPs8d3ZtZHklhN6Yp8E1uy05v8yOOovQCAqsFLH1fbheK3s-BVJw/s1600-h/IMG_4820.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBzncGMix9d1KaPXnjACRaFCSbN9lQuKoNeubDgl-LpVvi0MNBMA6hyphenhyphenIieFvkC2dckt6IpYodwklSUOTg-fRPs8d3ZtZHklhN6Yp8E1uy05v8yOOovQCAqsFLH1fbheK3s-BVJw/s200/IMG_4820.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269388127481001618" border="0" /></a>We checked in with his moms the next morning and I forewarned them of the sad state they might encounter with our son. His depression would most likely have to be monitored for the next few weeks. I would begin putting money away for future therapy.<br /><br />And Mom #1’s response to all of this. “<span style="font-style: italic;">We have three AC/DC CD’s at home and play Dirty Deeds all the time.</span>” WE SALUTE YOU!<br /><br />(Larry did give me the shirt for Father's Day that year!)Stevehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12020142087227196082noreply@blogger.com5