Archive for November, 2008

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Disney Princess Death Match

November 26, 2008

If you’re like me, but you’re probably not, you have a small girl in your house. Likely this small female human has asked you to allow her to view various movies produced by the children’s entertainment goliath known as Disney. Most of us acquiesce to the begging and pleading and permit the viewing, hence the mammoth Disney Empire.

Probably, again if you’re like me, you’ve accumulated a collection of DVDs prominently featuring an array of princesses. You may even have purchased sheets, paper plates, or toothpaste branded with your child’s favorite animated royalty.

In my house, as my child is beginning the process of leaving behind these characters, our discussions have changed. At one time she might have asked, “Daddy, which one of the princess do you like the best?”

I would have answered something like,  “Well, Belle has a good head on her shoulders, prettiest girl in town, brunette…I’m gonna go with Belle.”

“Why do you care what color her hair is?”

“Well, look at your mother dear. Blonde. My girlfriends before her, blonde. Daddy is coming to grips with middle age and the roads not taken. “

“Oh. I like Cinderella. She has talking mice.”

In the present day weasel household, more that one conversation of late has started like this.

“Honey,” I ask, because I’m curious to her reasoning, “if there were a war between the Disney princesses, who would win? Which one would be the last one standing?”

Of course this initially leads to a discussion of what constitutes a princess. Pocahontas isn’t technically a princess, but she’s close enough right? Mulan on the other hand is billed as a princess, but ends up with a soldier. To make matters easy on ourselves we decide to include the female leads we can think of.

Out of fairness, we exclude any of the animal princesses. Can you imagine Ariel fighting the female mouse from the Rescuers? Of course not, that’s not even close to fair. Nor would it be fair for Sleeping Beauty to try and tangle with Nala from the Lion King (talk about a cat fight).

Trying to approach this logically, we put our European cookie cutter princesses (Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White, Belle) in one pile and leave them for dead. These girls with no level of fitness or training are ill equipped for the likes of Pocahontas or Mulan.

Ariel from the Little Mermaid, likely has some decent cardiovascular health due to a lifetime of swimming, but since she’s only had legs a few weeks, I doubt she could mount a decent challenge to the Native American or Asian princesses previously mentioned.

Esmeralda on the other hand is a Gypsy and a dancer. As a Gypsy she probably has had more than a few run-ins with the local Constabulary. Her jail time and street life have probably given her ample time to learn to defend herself as a means of survival.

I wager if Pocahontas and Esmeralda went at it, the later would quickly go dirty, pulling a razor from under her skirt and dispatch Pocahontas to the happy hunting ground toot sweet.

The last two standing would undoubtedly be Esmeralda and Mulan.

Here we have no contest. Mulan has military training, a wicked smart brain, and has endured weeks of Donny Osmond singing at her. No wacky musical number is going to distract her. Mulan, needing only her most basic martial arts skills would take away Esmeralda’s razor and use it to give her a Columbian necktie.

“Dad, I’m glad you corrupt everything that was sweet about my childhood. Can you do it again sometime?”

“Sure baby, is December 25th too soon?”

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I Thought I was Finished with Homework

November 19, 2008

Kids go to school. We did it, they have to do it. What we didn’t understand in our youth was the price our parents had to pay.

Every day, after 8 hours of school, my little girl comes home, gets a snack and gets started on her homework. When I get home an hour or so later, she’s still working. An hour or two later when dinner is ready, she’s still working.

Admittedly, I have a daughter. The second X-chromosome triggers an urgent need to tell me stories about her life, her friends, her hopes and dreams…all stuff I just don’t care about.

“Hey dad, did you know-”

“Are you done with your work?”

“No, but-”

“Do your work.”

“But-”

“Do your work.”

We eat. She dawdles. In 10 years, the kid has never eaten a hot meal. She eats so slowly I can watch mold grow on her food. I have eaten cleaned the kitchen, and gotten hungry again before she finishes dinner.

When mealtime is over she resumes homework. When she’s finally finished, I check it. Inevitably there are mistakes. We talk about them, and she corrects them. We go over her spelling words. Her Spanish vocabulary. It’s around 7. She needs to take a shower. Around 7:20 I finally get to tell her, “You can play. Until 8, and then it’s bed time.”

She thinks it sucks that she works basically 12 hours a day 4-5 days a week with less than 5 hours of free time.

I say, she has it easy. Who’s missing Wheel of Fortune and Maury Povich cause he has to feed his child and keep a talkative kid on task? This guy.

In 1978 some hooligans spray painted “SCHOOL SUCKS” on my street. Boy, were they right.

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De-Faced Book

November 19, 2008

I am slow to your newer technologies. I’m stuck in the web 1.0 mindset. Blogging, I came late. Twitter, I came late. Facebook, late.

I’ve been on Facebook about a week or so now. I’m not sure I get it.

I appreciate some people like to have lots of ‘friends’. I’m not one of those folks. Mostly I would just like to have people I genuinely like and consider a friend or close acquaintance, even if we don’t see each other that often.

I think the Facebook program is interesting. Many of the “you may also know…” people are in fact old acquaintances or friends. All of my blogger pals I’m holding off on adding, trying to locate some of my lost college and high school friends first.

Unfortunately, the first HS pal I added seems to have initiated a number of ‘friend’ requests from people I don’t know that well. That is to say, we were neither friends nor enemies, just kids at the same school. I let a couple go, making them ‘friends’ figuring what’s the harm? Then I got one from a guy I remember only for having a hot sister, but beyond that I don’t think I ever said so much as a single word to him. I can’t bring myself to confirm him as a friend, yet I’m hesitant to just hit ignore.

Am I a snob? Sure, I guess, but I’ve had nearly 20 years since high school to make friends in college and at various jobs. People I have had drinks with or deployed with. I like the thought of a place where I can keep in loose contact with the people I like.

I place little value in having a bunch of contacts I don’t give a shit about.

I have a feeling I’m going to have to be a little bit cruel to be kind. Thanks 98 Degrees, in your lyrics I find the truth I need.

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Grammar Nazi, Beware

November 18, 2008

We all know grammar Nazi’s. The good one’s just bitch abstractly, the others…the ones who don’t understand why they eat alone everyday, want to put how ’smart’ they are in your face.

I pity these people. In a world with cancer, homelessness, war, scurvy, and dial up Internet service, the greatest contribution they offer society is knowing the difference between its and it’s.

The knowledge they take such pride in falls somewhere between the number of calories in a fried turkey beak, and the middle name of Mary Jane Watson’s abusive father on the grand scale of matters of general importance to society.

We all have hobbies. Some of us enjoy physical activities such as hiking or sports. Others volunteer time to charitable organizations or churches. A small number devote hard earned free time to punctuation.

Live and let live. But if you interrupt my baseball conversation to tell me I should say “Rs B I” instead of “RBIs”, your sandwich in the common fridge is likely to taste a tad more mucas-y than normal.

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This Doesn’t Make Me Gay

November 17, 2008

A few years back, Buffy the Vampire Slayer was my favorite TV show. Somewhere around the same time Blade the Vampire Hunter , a 70s Marvel comics creation was reborn as a profitable movie franchise. Vampires never go out of style. I could probably name half a dozen vampire series with minimal mental strain.

Around 2000 I was pulling a short tour in Oman. Trapped in my room after the bombing of the USS Cole I came up with my own character, I christened Christoph the Vampire Flamer. It should be obvious that I’m not much of a writer. Sure, I can string a few words together to convey a point, but long form writing is not my thing. I prefer the pith. I’ve never at anytime planned to put any of my ridiculous concept to paper.

Christoph has languished, unwanted, in my head for the last 8 years and I need to exorcise him.

In my head, Christoph is a very, flamboyant man. Through a misadventure he obtains a magical ring that shoots fireballs. He uses these to kill vampires. Hence, Christoph the Vampire Flamer. I had no over arching story I wanted to tell. My brain just continued to create lines of dialogue and situations that sounded funny to me.

I gave Christoph a sidekick. A large Indian (feather not dot) clad in leather. The Indian’s name is Rod. Rod has no ring only a large bow-staff (it should go without saying that he has wicked bow-staff skills).

One liners rolling in my skull include:

“My, that staff is enormous!”

“So, you wish to use my Rod as a plaything?”

“I told you, I’d keep doing this until every bone was smoked.”

“Once they see my balls, they usually run away.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover your back.”

“One of us needs to crawl inside that manhole.”

“Did you really think I’d let you suck my Rod?”

I do not pretend to be a creative type. I’m almost too progressive to have this juvenile sense of humor…yet here it is. Perhaps putting it out there will quiet my demons within.

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A Vote for Me is a Vote…duh

November 4, 2008

    I voted this morning, and as is common in the smaller offices there were officials running unopposed.

    I despise the uncontested election. I think we should have choices, even if they both suck. So when I got to the mayoral election in Hendersonville, I did what I always do.
    I voted for myself.
    The town could do worse.
    Much worse.

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Beats the Sheet Out of Me

November 3, 2008

I’m a pretty white guy. I can’t help that, and I’m not sorry for it.

My first college was predominately white. Sure there were minorities there, but obviously it follows a majority of the students were white.

We had parties. We got drunk. Guys tried to get laid.

Then I dropped out.

I still managed to have fun, but my career path was not what I hoped.

One day working a manual labor job at TSU I decided to go back to school. I enrolled and a couple of years later I was gainfully employed.

At first I was nervous, what with all the black kids running around, but I quickly learned the following truth.

Black college kids like to have parties, get drunk, and try to get laid.

Under the skin we are the same, BUT there are cultural differences.

Like sheet advertising.

At WKU I never saw sheet advertising. 

I don’t even know how effective sheet advertising is, but I still see it around my alma mater.

In case you’re not familiar, the above is sheet advertising.

I didn’t go to Homecomin this year. I hope T-Pain was awesome.