Basketgirl

You have got to see this one to believe it. Not basketball, but basketGIRL.

Dance, White Boy, Dance

For all of you sick of the Numa Numa dance video, here's one that really got me laughing too. A buddy plays a prank on his roommate, who likes to hip hop dance when no one is around.

Thanks to Ill Jackass for the link.

Sun vs. Moon

Grady, Liam and I had a fun ride to school/work this morning. We first saw an oversized moon against a pink sky, then as we drove down the hill in our neighborhood, we saw Mt. Hood's silhouette, caused by the early sun rising behind it. For the whole commute we had the giant moon in front of us and the low sun behind us. By the time we got to Liam’s school, you could just barely make out the moon.

While talking about how nice it was, Grady asked me, “Will you remember this forever?” I told him I would, and I think I really will because it’s just one of those moments that having children make so much better. Grady also began talking about the planets he’s been studying in school (and learned more about in a planetarium field trip yesterday), and I told him I love hearing him talk about the planets. He asked why, and I said it reminds me how vast our world is and it helps put a lot of things into perspective. Grady didn’t really get it, as those concepts are a bit foreign to a four year old, but it did make me feel better about some things going on in my life.

Speaking of moons, check out the recent posting in My Nacho about the moon in New Zealand. And, note the new blog I linked to over in my Blogs of Note list. Ill Jackass is written by a really good guy I work with.

Boys vs. Girls

OK, so I'm hooked on yet another season of American Idol. I watched Monday's show where the 12 male finalists each got about 90 seconds to belt out a song. I thought about 10 of them did a stellar job, with the best performance going to Bo Bice (caveman-looking rock 'n' roller), and the second best going to Mario Vasquez (he who is fond of tilted hats). Then I watched Tuesday night's performances by the final 12 females. I thought all but 2 were terrible. Highlights were Nadia Turner (attractively lithe, big hair) who was entertaining and different, and Aloha Mischeaux who is already a star in my opinion.

My prediction: Mario Vasquez and Aloha Mischeaux will be the final contestants and Mario will be the 4th American Idol. Only about 14,000 more episodes to get through to find out.

Oh, and wasn't Simon's comment to the Vegas show girl contestant, "In my next life I want to come back as your microphone," uncomfortable and creepy? I was glad she gave him a disgusted look and Ryan "Seacrest Out, Hair Gel In" didn't let it slide either, asking Simon to elaborate, which Simon wisely refused to do.

Do you watch? Are you into it as much as other years?

Back on the Video-wagon

Finally sat down and equipped my new computer with video editing. I posted a couple of new videos today of my son, Grady, showing off his imagination and his goofy singing.

6 MB video of Grady discussing his houseboat, a goal for his adulthood that he's discussed recently. Click here for the .WMV file.

2 MB video of Grady and his younger brother, Liam, singing Frosty the Snowman in a weird voice. Click here.

Best played on Windows Media Player 10.

To the Grass of Autumn

I referenced a poem in a below post that I've always enjoyed. It captures well the apprehension or reticent feeling one gets when seasons change. I get that feeling when summer turns to fall. This poem captures the author's bleak feelings of moving from autumn to winter.

By W.S. Merwin

TO THE GRASS OF AUTUMN

You could never believe
it would come to this
one still morning
when before you noticed
the birds already
were all but gone

even though year upon year
the rehearsal of it
must have surprised
your speechless parents
and unknown antecedents
long ago gathered to dust
and though even the children
have been taught how to say
the word withereth

no you were known to be
cool and countless
the bright vision on all
the green hills
rippling in unmeasured waves
through the days in flower

now you are as the fog
that sifts among you
gray in the chill daybreak
the voles scratch the dry earth
around your roots
hoping to find something
before winter
and when the white air stirs
you whisper to yourselves
without expectation
or the need to know

Elmopalooza

Liam is so in love with Elmo. Elmo shirt, elmo dolls, elmo shows. This picture from the plane trip back from Virginia says it all. The death grip on Elmo ensures his friend stays with him. You can be sure who his Valentine is!

Pictures from Virginia

My sister, Katy, married Erik Davis on February 5th. Click for album.




While in Virginia/D.C. for the wedding, it snowed enough to get outside and play.

East of the Mountains

I'm reading a book right now, East of the Mountains, recommended to me by a good friend, Cara Walker. It's by the author of Snow Falling on Cedars, David Guterson. It's a beautiful, meditative book, coupled with some harrowing action. There came a passage on pg. 99 that floored me for how accurately it portrays my feelings about summer. Something I've always felt, but have never been able to put into words. My feeble attempt came last July, but that pales in comparison to Guterson's words:

The season of pears was upon them soon, at that point in August when nothing tangible suggests the demise of summer, except our apprehension.

For years I've had a poem hung on my office wall, but I moved offices recently and it's still in a box. I'll have to dig it out and post the sad, poignant words about the end of summer from the perspective of grass. Right now I can't even remember the poet. Unlike Erik Henne, who booed the onset of Spring here in the NW because it cuts his ski season short, I'm egging it on so we can move on to summer.

The Long Weekend

We got home yesterday after five days in Virginia. My sister's wedding was fun and went off without a hitch (pun intended). It was held at the Willard Hotel on Pennsylvania Ave, just a block away from the White House. It's Capital Suite was 2,000 sq feet of opulence, and the location of the ceremony.

My godfather, Richard, performed the ceremony at 5:00, and by 5:30, we 40 guests were all toasting the happy couple with champagne. Katy wore an elegant cream-colored dress and Erik wore a black suit, very light pink shirt and a cool pink tie. We all posed for the obligatory pictures, and ate delicious crab balls my Uncle John had prepared. We also cracked open a bunch of wine, beer and liquor.

At 6:30, we went downstairs to the Occidental Restaurant, and up to the private President's Room. Five tables were set up for a four course dinner, with wine included. The first course was a delicious lobster bisque. Then a choice of either a caeser salad or baby spinach. Entrees were either sea bass, a pork chop or filet mignon. Colleen and I got the filet, and, evidently, it was the right choice. Dessert was a choice of either vanilla ice cream with seasonal berries, or chocolate hazelnut cake. It was all scrumptuous. After a half dozen heartfelt toasts, and Katy and Erik's first dance (danced to a group sung You Are My Sunshine), it was 9:00 and we moved the party to bar in The Willard, called the Round Robin.

About 30 people went to the bar, while some of the local folks called it a night. Colleen and I took full advantage of Katy's offer to drive our rental car back the next morning (she and Erik stayed in the Capital Suite, of course). So, we stayed at the bar drinking until almost midnight and took a cab home. Ugh. When the kids woke us up at 6:30 the next morning, I was in BAD shape. MUCH white wine and then several beers will do that to you if you forget to drink copious amounts of water and take aspirin before heading to bed. It took until about 1:00 in the afternoon to start feeling like myself.

Katy and Erik stopped off with the car, and had lunch with us at my parent's house. We relived the evening before, and laughed about some drunken gaffes, including one from me. I learned I bear-hugged Erik's father at the bar, only to hear from Erik at lunch that his dad is not a hugging type. Cringe.

We watched the SuperBowl with our good friends that evening. Some of you know MSL from the comment section. He and his wife have a daughter Liam's age, and we all had a great time catching up with each other. It's one of life's greatest benefits to have friends like MSL, where you can go months or years without seeing each other but still pick up right where you left off the last time. I suppose this blog helps with that too. We were pleased to catch the end of the game with my dad back at my parent's house, and pleased to see the Patriots win. Quite a time for New England sports fans. Red Sox and Patriots. I was amazed at the inefficient time management by the Eagles at the end of the game. Down 10 with 4:30 left, they acted like it was early in the second quarter. Long huddles, long snap counts, receivers walking back from their routes. Unbelievable.

The next morning, we took off at 5:15 a.m. to catch a 7:30 flight out of Dulles Airport -- about 35 minutes from my parent's house in Alexandria, VA. All flights were on time and half-full, so we had a pretty easy time of it with a 4 and 2 year old. Plenty of room to strecth out and take a real nap, and Alaska Airlines' Dig

E players (personal DVD machines) made for happy kids and happy parents. It's good to be home, but I have to admit, not so good to be back at work. Just five days away, and I was able to forget all the stress and demands of the office. Sigh.

Adieu to 1982

Isn't it Uncle Rico from Napolean Dynamite who harkens back to 1982 as his glory year? Well, here in Alexandria, VA, where I'm staying at my parent's place during my sister's wedding festivities, we bid adieu to 1982. As in a microwave oven. I remember being in 6th grade and going with my sister and mother to the store to get one of those new microwave ovens, to the protests of my father. Something about the Dire Straits' Money for Nothing lyrics, "We gotta install microwave ovens" that gave us the fever.

Anyway, the General Electric workhorse finally went kaput yesterday morning. 23 years of hard work. It deserves a pension and social security.

In its place is a sleek new stainless steel Panasonic whiz kid. If this lasts for 23 years, my parents will be very lucky. I just don't think they make 'em like they used to.

I removed the old microwave and almost dumped it on the floor. I slid it off the shoulder-high shelf not knowing how damn heavy it was. Like a T.V., with all the weight on the back. Seriously, the GE heavyweight champion weighed in at over 80 lbs. The new one, just as big, weighed less than 25. My back salutes you, featherweight newcomer. Let's hope you can earn the title belt.