Feeling Like One Of Those Army Commercials Today

You know, the one from a few years back about how they do more by 6AM than most people do all day...

I got up at 7:30am and made sure the kids had breakfast. It wasn't a breakfast of champions as the cupboards were bare so they turned to Kix cereal with soy milk and a strawberry pop tart each. Then I corralled them into brushing their teeth and getting dressed while I made them lunch.

As I was making lunch, I threw in a load of laundry - I had it in the dryer by the time we left for school. Oh, and I changed the kitty litter because today is trash day so it just made sense.

I had a pang in my heart for my youngest; he's going through growing pains and is now realizing that school happens everyday all day and he's not happy about that. Plus it appears he has inherited the seasonal allergies that wreak havoc on his older brother and me so the little fella was a wee bit tired - from school and from a stuffy nose that kept him from a good night's sleep.

After I dropped the boys off I came home and took a shower because I stunk like an ashtray from the show my band played last night in Raleigh. I didn't get home until close to 1am because the city had all these streets closed off for today's celebration of the new convention center. With the street closings and all the construction that the city has seen, I got all turned around and lost my bearings. By the time I readied my ship and got to I40 to head home, I was greeted by the cops who had closed off the west bound ramp. So I got on the east bound ramp and figured I'd just go down one exit and turnaround. But as soon as I got on the interstate I was greeted by more orange cones than I could count and an assload of blinking lights.

Guess the city decided to re-stripe that part of the interstate and I have a hunch it was on account of the previously mentioned celebration because once I got past the city it was nothing but open road.

I also needed to go to the grocery store but to do that I had to manhandle my bass cabinet out of the wagon.

The grocery store was mobbed.

Of course because there's a hurricane headed our way and people like to clog the grocery stores in the name of preparation. I can't blame then, the hype is heavy on Hanna even though the poor bitch has been downgraded to a tropical storm. I have been on the receiving end of poor hurricane preparation and it wasn't pleasant and that was before I had kids.

And then I had the good fortune to have one of those baggers who likes to put like three items in a bag. I should have done it myself like I usually do but the bagger was already halfway into it by the time I finished unloading my cart. Suddenly I felt bad about how environmentally unfriendly my trip to the store had become... then again we do have a rain barrel and we still do use the bucket in the shower.

It's not even noon yet.

I'm not even halfway done with what I need to do today.

And I can't get this song out of my head...

Beer

 

Many, many moons ago I began the task of collecting beer bottle caps for an art project.

I wanted to do something fun with them like cover a coffee table or maybe a shed door.

Something.

But after a few years it got out of hand and my wife told me to stop collecting the caps.

Then when we finally bought our house in '98, I was told to "get rid of them" because, really, where would we store them until the creative muse struck us?

Well the muse finally did strike.

And it was a funny moment at that: my wife and I were sitting out on our deck enjoying a lovely evening as kids played in the Back Forty when she quipped, "we should totally cover that table in beer bottle caps" and pointed to a table she had made out of wood scraps when we had out deck built.

I'm not quite sure what kind of look I had on my face but it was one that got the retort, "Wh-wh-whaaaaat?"

She followed that up and asked where all the bottle caps were, you know, the ones I had transported across the country and into and out of one townhouse and one mill house.

"You made me throw them all out," I said.

"Uh-huh, yeah I vaguely remember that," she said.

"But did you?"

I brandished a sheepish grin.

"I saved a couple of bags," I said.

Then I ducked in the house and retreived a couple of plastic bags worth of bottle caps that had been stashed under our bed (where else does a dude stash stuff?)

My idea was to just put them on the wooden table randomly but that was quickly trumped by the realization that my wife rarely does anything randomly.

So we had to sort them by color or logo.

I have to say it looks pretty good.

And I could show you a picture of it.

But I found this picture infinitely more intriguing - and revealing - by the caps that I have collected.

I mean, those are Mickey's Malt Liquor bees, but then who drinks Mickey's and doesn't buy the big mouths? Right next to that is a Schlitz Malt Liquor (a.k.a. The Bull) cap. Who knew The Bull came in a bottle that wasn't a screw top? Kind of defeats the purpose now doesn't it? I also found a good twelve pack's worth of Olde English 800 caps in there, again not twist offs.

Clearly I was going through some sort of malt liquor phase at the time but I thought I had outgrown that in college (well and there was that one time I wrote a review of malt liquors for Big Brother magazine and felt the need to sample them all being a fan of participatory journalism and all) but that still predates living in the Carolinas by over a decade.

The outer ring of the table is lined with Red Hook ESB caps, which back in the day was a tasty microbrew before one of the major breweries sank their claws in to it. A bunch of Sierra Nevedas, followed by Fosters and, of course, a smattering of High Lifes.

There's also a few Lucky Lager's in there which are notable because they were the first, if not one of the first, to put little puzzles on the underside of their caps.

But then there's about a case or so worth of caps that say nothing but "pure cold" with frosting on top of the lettering and I haven't the faintest idea what beer these caps belong to.

It's something to ponder...

A Task Of Herculean Proportions

Well maybe many tasks but starting with the show my band played last night, I will either have to work a catering gig or play with my band 11 out of the next 13 days.

That's pretty brutal if I may put it bluntly: Imagine getting up with your kids at 7:30am everyday, making them breakfast (and lunch for school), doing household chores for the next few hours while Number 2 is at playschool (and writing to meet deadlines), entertaining both kids afterschool until dinner (which I will have to make) and then head off to work some party until God knows when (or in the case of last night play in some smoky club until God knows when). Then come home and pray for a good night's sleep so you can wake up and start the whole process over again... like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

This is my life right now.

In two weeks I'm sure I'll be writing about having bronchitis or the flu or some shit.

I'm smart enough to wade through the waters with caution but being dead dog tired doesn't ward off the cooties very well.

The Bickering Has Begun

 

I started off summer vacation really well.

First there was the matinee viewing of Surf's Up! A trip to the Museum of Life & Science and then a play date hike through the NC Botanical Gardens. I wanted to keep on my toes by keeping them on their toes so I made a list and have been consulting it.

Aside form these field trips, there has also been many games of Candyland, Chutes & Ladders, Go Fish, playing catch, riding bikes and then there's always the pool.

But last weekend the whole tick bite thing threw me for a loop (plus I aslo think I may have a hernia but I'll save that for later). Because of the antibiotics I'm taking for the tick bite, my exposure to sun has been limited.

So this week, without the pool to fall back on, I had to dig deep for some other plans, preferrable of the non-paying variety. Also to be considered is that it has been pushing one hundred degrees in the shade here. So I took the boys to the mall (the small mall, not the big mall) and we browsed the hobby shop, books at the book store and sealed the deal with pizza at Alfredo's - they could possibly have the best pizza in the area.

Next day was the pet store, which is by the grocery store so we could kill two birds with one stone. Speaking of birds, the boys want a new pet. Should it be a bird? A lizard? Fish? These are the pressing questions you have to ask yourself. We also cat sat for our neighbors recently and so now Cole has a hankerin' for a kitten. But we already have a cat and she's an old lady so maybe it would be a good idea/maybe it would be a bad idea.

Yesterday I decided to take them to the Ackland Art Museum which is part of UNC but it was a bust (no pun intended there!): Spencer, unbeknownest to me, had recently gone there on a field trip with his class. And Cole didn't like it because it was too quiet. I was bummed because the second floor was closed down to install a new exhibit. So my planned "kill a couple of hours" scheme went belly up in about 30 minutes flat. I tried to rally the troops with yet again another slice of pizza, this time at the storied Pepper's Pizza on Franklin Street followed up by locally-made ice cream at the Maple View Farms store in Carrboro just across the street from Weaver Street Market (local co-op grocery store).

But today, I had nothing.

As a matter of fact, I totally forgot that it was Friday because it is the first weeekend that I haven't had to work since mid-April and the obvious fact that school is out so all my days blur together now. I barely remembered to take out the trash; it would have been ugly had I forgotten that because last Saturday my wife satisfied her blue crab jones for the first time this summer so crab shells had been festering in the can all week.

In hundred degree heat.

Phew. Glad I remembered.

The plan for today was to "record" the boys' band. You see this week I picked up the artwork for the CD my band is about to release and this spurred Spencer into prying into asking about how he could make his own CD. So I told him that my MacBook has GarageBand and that I could record them and then burn a CD.

This was a very bad idea.

Because for the last two days he has been badgering his brother to play their set so I can record it. But getting two boys - ages 4 and 7 - to do the same thing at the same time takes crucial planning. So for two days, if one boy wants to play, the other defiantly says no. I tried to explain that this interaction is very much like a real band but they just can't grasp the real world explanation.

Enter the bickering.

"Wanna play?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to!"
"Daaaaaaaaddddd!!!"

"Where's Spencer?" asked Cole.
"He's in his room," I said.
"I want to tell him something," he said.
"What?" I said.
"That he's not my brother anymore," he said.

Nice.

Then I tell Spencer he's has got to change his approach. Don't whine at your brother and demand him to play, but rather ask him if he wants to record or be on a CD or play rock star.

He had almost convinced him when Cole delivered the fatal blow: "I don't like your songs. Can we play something else?"

"Wh-Wha-Whaaaattttt?" said Spencer.
"But dad he said he was going to play," he said on the verge of tears.
"Welcome to the real world son," I said.
"Maybe you could ask him if he wants to play some of his songs?" I said.
"But I don't waaannnnnaaaa play his songs," said Spencer.
"Guess you got a problem," I said.