Wax Museum

 

A few weeks ago, my 8-year-old's class did a project called the Wax Museum.

The kids had to pick somebody from the history books and give a little oral presentation while dressed like the person they picked.

The teacher requested that they had to pick somebody from the past. The person couldn't be presently famous. The note sent home to us parents basically explained that they didn't won't little Hannah Montanas or the cast of High School Musical running around the halls.

My son labored long and hard over who would be the subject of his biography whittling it down to two people: John Bonham or John Riggins.

Growing up with a father who was a high school football referee and a season-ticket holding Skins fan, Riggins is a figure of mythical proportions in my household. He was one of the original NFL wingnuts who didn't give a fuck about the status quo. With a country boy work ethic and a punk rock attitude, Riggins has always been a personal hero of mine, so when my son was doing his research I gladly saddled up with him to scour the internet for info or to search YouTube for classic clips of Riggins.

I still get goosebumps when I watch Riggins break free on fourth down and rumble to a touchdown against the Dolphins in Super Bowl VXII - a play that has gone down in the annuals of NFL history as one of the greatest ever.

But I also loved the fact that he had the balls to not only sport a Afro but also a mohawk.

And or course there's the "Lighten up Sandy" episode where a drunken Riggo told Supreme Court Justice Sandra O'Conner to relax and enjoy the banquet party they both were attending only to "fall asleep" on the floor later in the evening.

But despite my enthusiasm for Riggins, Zeppelin's drummer still won over my son's heart.

Again, here we have another dude who didn't give a rat's ass about the public perception of him and did whatever the hell he wanted to do. At least Riggins is still alive; it was a challenge trying to explain how some old rock star died chocking on his own vomit (which, by the way, is not something you hear of anymore but was all the rage back in the day).

The obvious thing to do here would be to show a clip of Bonham doing his hand drumming during "Moby Dick" but instead I'll leave you with a little Riggo.

Long Live The Diesel!

You Blunk'ed

Despite the unsavory outcome of the recent weather(see my knee caps below), it has been awesome.

Sometimes we just go straight from winter to summer, with a minor pit stop in spring, just long enough to rain a few times and maybe break out the sweatshirt once or twice before the heat and humidity become the daily norm.

Ironically, the best spring we've had in years came on the heels of one of the severest droughts the Southeast has had to endure.

Things were looking pretty grim in January but we have had plenty of rain since then so much so that they have lifted some of the water restrictions (re: the car washes are back open).

My wife and I call this San Diego weather as that is what it reminds us of: party cloudy, mid-70 degree days with little or no humidity. 70 degree highs and 50 degree lows could quite possibly my all-time favorite stretch of weather. Although when I lived in SoCal, it was precisely this kind of weather that drove me bonkers. The lack of seasons can be disconcerting when you have a hard time deciphering between Christmas or the Fourth Of July. Marked not by the articles of clothing you wear but rather by the seasonal displays at your local drug store.

So it was a no brainer last weekend to sit under the covered part of our deck and watch a storm roll in. Yahtzee being the time-killing game of choice.

That was until my two boys spiraled off into playing the Staring Game which - quite obviously - involves staring at your opponent until someone blinks.

"You blunked!" scream my 4-year-old.
"You blunked. I saw you!!" he said.

"Blinked," said my wife.
"It's 'you blinked'" she said.

Ten minutes later I play the reigning champion, my 4-year-old, who stared at me with the widest eyes ever.

"You blunked!" he said.

Victory was his.

Ouch!

 

Yesterday my oldest son found his soccer season ending on a double header. It was a beautiful balmy day. We made lunches for in between the games and brought snack for his teammates.

Turns out everyone had the snack idea as several parents brought food for the budding Beckhams.

Last week I was sporting a freshly shaved head and it got a little sunburned so this week I opted to wear a hat. I couldn't find my sunglasses from last summer so I was still subjected to squinting for the majority of the morning.

I even had the foresight to slather some sun screen on my face... unfortunately I didn't have the sense to put the shit anywhere else on my body.

And apparently, as the Earth's orbit would have it, that hole in the ozone just happened to be over the soccer fields in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, this past weekend.

I also had the pleasure of having to work a catering gig later in the night.

I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to have polyester tux pants rubbing up against your sunburned knees for several hours.

Fuck water boarding, this shit could break the weak at heart in two Gitmo Bay minutes.

Celebrate Diversity

 

It seems lately that my yard has become the default spot for the neighborhood kids to play.

They are a motley bunch ranging from ages 4 to 12 and comprised of El Salvadorians, Egyptians, Indians, a French-American half-breed, a couple of unidentifiable-origin'ed Caucasians and my mutt children. It can get to be a bit much at times, trying to make sure the older ones don't outdo the younger ones (or expose them to "mature" subject matter). For the most part the kids are all well-behaved and cordial to each other and they know they I have a rule that if they all can't agree on something or make piece with each other after a disagreement then the "party is over" as I like to say.

I had to start keeping disposable cups on hand because I was finding that I had to wash too many cups on a daily basis; water is of an utmost premium here in the drought-ridden Southeast.

The other day they were playing soccer in the backyard - a hectic, discombobulated sea of bodies and heads going in all directions - when I heard the Indian boy, who was playing goalie, yell out defensive strategies.

"Nobody's listening to me," he said as I walked outside to inspect the ruckus.

"Well maybe you should tell them in Punjabi," I said.

He laughed and then let out a tongue-trilling bombardment of sentences.

"See," he said. "They won't listen to me in Punjabi... because THEY DON"T KNOW PUNJABI Greg!" he said.

The next day I was with my 4-year-old and we made a pit stop at the drive-thru teller at the bank.

"Why does that girl have a dot on her head?" he asked.

"It is part of her culture," I told him.

Later that day I told him to ask his neighbor who then explained to me that the size of the dot indicates whether the girl has reached adulthood, is about to get married or is married.

"So her small dot means she's old enough to date?" I asked him.

He laughed.

"Girls don't date," he said. "Marriages are arranged."

"Oh yeah right," I countered.

Today was one of those early release school days which means the kids began congregating in my back yard slightly after 2pm. My son came in and asked if he could play over at the Indian boy's house. He's the oldest but for some reason - one that everybody knows - I'm just not comfortable with a 12-year-old being held responsible for my 4-year-old.

My Indian neighbor stepped up and said that his grandmother and sisters were home.

"Okay," I said much to the delight of my sons and their friends, a rousing round of Hi-Fives ensued.
"But I'm going to walk you over there and make sure it is okay."

Grandma came to the door and I asked her if it was okay that my boys play there.

She looked at me and then at her grandson.

He translated my inquiry.

"She said it's cool," he said.

"Thanks dad," my oldest said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Behave yourself," I said.

"I will," he said. "We always do."

Notice A Pattern?

I've been so hella busy that I haven't had much time do much writing of any kind but this morning while waiting to drop off my youngest son we got to talking.

He brought up how much fun he had at the mountains a few weeks back.

"Yeah," I said. "That was a lot of fun."
"Especially you streaking," I said.

"Streeee-eeekkk-innnngggg?" he said.

"Yeah, remember you would run from one bedroom to the other naked," I said.

"Well that's because I didn't want anybody to see me naked," he explained.

"But everybody saw you naked," I said.

"It's best to put your clothes on before you run about in public," I explained.

"Oh," he said.

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

 

I often tell my friends and relatives about how nuts my oldest son is, and mostly in jest, but the lad does have an obsessive/compulsive streak a mile wide.

Here's a shot of his card collection, separated by sport, then team and then Lord only knows what else...

But then I guess I should expect this from a kid who takes off all his clothes to go poo.

I shudder to think just what he will do at a keg party (that's where I would usually put forth my naked equation).

It Was A Robin's Egg...

 

and it was blue.

I discovered this nest the other day after nearly being side-swipped by Mama Robin.

Having lived in North Carolina for the better part of a decade as well as being a music critic in the Chapel Hill, Raleigh, Durham area for a large chunk of the '90s, it's almost impossible for me to see a robin's egg and not conjure up the Superchunk song "Mower."

So now I'm going to imprint both audio and video so that you too - when spotting a robin's egg - will forever hum this indie rock chestnut.

[UPDATE: The wrens have hatched, the robin has laid three more eggs and Superchunk is playing a free show. From Ross Grady at Trianglerock.com: "You've probably heard about this by now, but just in case. The Barack Obama campaign is running a huge early-voting push in North Carolina, and this show is part of it. Tickets have been available for a couple of days now at Obama tables near early-voting sites in Chapel Hill, Carrboro, Durham and Raleigh. It's unclear how many people the Carrboro Town Commons will actually hold--initial reports were that they were planning for 3-4000, but later I heard 6000.

Gates (what gates?) open at 1:00 p.m., with Superchunk tentatively scheduled to go on at 2:00 & the Arcade Fire at 3:00. Nobody is promising an Obama appearance (and since he's at the Dean Dome on Monday . . .) but it'd be amusing to see him drop in via helicopter or something.

But I daresay most folks in possession of tickets--even folks like me who've been rocking Obama bumper-stickers for years now--are more excited about the chance to see Superchunk (or the Arcade Fire, anyway)."]

All The News That's Fit To Print

Scanning the web this morning as part of the internship I've been doing over at WUNC radio, I came across this fine nuggets.

First up, from my hometown of Durham, NC, is this:

"Traitor" Chinese student threatened
NYT

DURHAM, N.C. -- On the day the Olympic torch was carried through San Francisco last week, Grace Wang, a Chinese freshman at Duke University, came out of her dining hall to find a handful of students gathered for a pro-Tibet vigil facing off with a much larger pro-China counterdemonstration.

Ms. Wang, who had friends on both sides, tried to get the two groups to talk, participants said. She began traversing what she called "the middle ground," asking the groups' leaders to meet and making bargains. She said she agreed to write "Free Tibet, Save Tibet" on one student's back only if he would speak with pro-Chinese demonstrators. She pleaded and lectured. In one photo, she is walking toward a phalanx of Chinese flags and banners, her arms overhead in a "timeout" T.

But the would-be referee went unheeded. With Chinese anger stoked by disruption of the Olympic torch relays and criticism of government policy toward Tibet, what was once a favorite campus cause -- the Dalai Lama's people -- had become a dangerous flash point, as Ms. Wang was soon to find out.

The next day, a photo appeared on an Internet forum for Chinese students with a photo of Ms. Wang and the words "traitor to your country" emblazoned in Chinese across her forehead. Ms. Wang's Chinese name, identification number and contact information were posted, along with directions to her parents' apartment in Qingdao, a Chinese port city.

Salted with ugly rumors and manipulated photographs, the story of the young woman who was said to have taken sides with Tibet spread through China's most popular Web sites, at each stop generating hundreds or thousands of raging, derogatory posts, some even suggesting that Ms. Wang -- a slight, rosy 20-year-old -- be burned in oil. Someone posted a photo of what was purported to be a bucket of feces emptied on the doorstep of her parents, who had gone into hiding.

"If you return to China, your dead corpse will be chopped into 10,000 pieces," one person wrote in an e-mail message to Ms. Wang. "Call the human flesh search engines!" another threatened, using an Internet phrase that implies physical, as opposed to virtual, action.


Not to be outdone, there's always are hapless, helpless government as evidence by these two short entries:

"Secure" WTC plans found in trash
NYP

It's a good thing Osama wasn't walking through SoHo yesterday morning.

Two sets of confidential blueprints for the planned Freedom Tower, which is set to rise at Ground Zero, were carelessly dumped in a city garbage can on the corner of West Houston and Sullivan streets, The Post has learned.

Experts said the detailed, floor-by-floor schematics contain enough detail for terrorists to plot a devastating attack.

"Secure Document - Confidential," warns the title page on each of the two copies of the 150-page schematic that a homeless, recovering drug addict discovered in the public trash can.

*or*

Military doubles felon recruits
GRDN

The US army doubled its use of "moral waivers" for enlisted soldiers last year to cope with the demands of the Iraq war, allowing sex offenders, people convicted of making terrorist threats, and child abusers into the military, new records released yesterday showed.

The army gave out 511 moral waivers to soldiers with felony convictions last year. Criminals got 249 army waivers in 2006, a sign that the demand for US forces in Iraq has forced a sharp increase in the number of criminals allowed on the battlefield.

The felons accepted into the army and marines included 87 soldiers convicted of assault or maiming, 130 convicted of non-cannabis-related drug offences, seven convicted of making terrorist threats, and two convicted of indecent behaviour with a child. Waivers were also granted to 500 burglars and thieves, 19 arsonists and nine sex offenders.

The new data were released by the oversight committee of the House of Representatives. Henry Waxman, the Democratic chairman of the oversight panel, said that while "providing opportunities to individuals who have served their sentences and rehabilitated themselves" is important, the waivers are a sign that the US military is stretched too thin.

The number of moral waivers in the military, mostly for misdemeanours such as speeding fines, reached 34,476 in 2006, or nearly 20% of all enlisted soldiers, according to the Palm Centre at the University of California. Recruits with felony convictions are more likely than other soldiers to drop out or be released from the military.

And now something to cheer you up:

Wii Fit ...to strip?
ABC

As the new Wii Fit made the rounds on morning talk shows this week, a U.K. company was working on a buzzy tidbit of its own: a stripping game for the popular console.

Peekaboo, a company that specializes in temporary at-home stripper polls, including one endorsed by Carmen Electra, announced this week that it's developing a strip aerobics game for the Wii.

"Peekaboo is pleased to confirm that it is in talks to develop a game for the Nintendo Wii that meets mainstream demand for the fun and fitness benefits of pole dancing," the company said in an e-mailed statement. "Peekaboo and its partners are focused on using Wii-friendly hardware to make aerobic pole dancing instantly accessible just as 'Guitar Hero' did for rock'n'roll."

Electra will not be involved in the game, according to the company.

"It would be natural for the platform. ... That's the Wii's strength," said Rob Enderle, a Silicon Valley analyst. "If you wanted to create a stripper poll game, this would be the system you'd target."

Ah, It's That Time of Year

The time when I step back and think about the fucking gnarly ordeal I went through four years ago.

Over-the-counter drugs are evil folks.

Worse than street drugs because you are told to take them.

Click on headline for linkage.

Rob & Big

Tonight is the season finale and final episode of the MTV hit show Rob & Big.

If you pay close attention, you just might hear the Chest Pains song "Action!" tucked somewhere in the television show.

Below is the trailer for Season 3:

My Friends The Wrens

 

They are back to making babies!

This time around my neighborhood wrens have decided to make a nest in this pine cone Christmas tree thingy my wife made during one her Martha Stewart moments.

While it is obviously an awesome place to make a birdy home - it comes with a heavy price as it is located next to the front door and therefore finds itself next to heavy foot traffic. I moved it a little bit further down the porch so it would be bit more out of the way of the kids but not far enough away to confuse the birds.

Cheetos Sandwich

 

Crazy busy and finding little time to write anything.

Yet it's times like this when I feel I have the most to write about.

Conundrums.

Above is a staple sandwich from when I was a kid: The Cheetos Sandwich.

White bread with yellow mustard, yellow cheese and topped with Cheetos.

It doesn't get any better than this folks.