Salute to April and "April Love"

April, a time when green returns to the northern hemisphere and some really great people have their birthdays, Krissy, Thanh Thao, Manju, Leah, Kay, and...? Ana's b-day just passed and Dana's is coming up at the start of May. If we were neighbors this could be a really expensive time of year. Happy b-day in advance!

Speaking of April, I watched "April Love" today. It stars Pat Boone--I was curious. If you're wondering "Pat who?", don't feel bad. I know him because my grandmother's friends used to say I reminded them of Pat Boone. We don't look alike. But, you see, he was considered a nice boy and when I lived with my grandma I gave the impression of being a nice boy too. Well, it was mostly true. =)

Anyway, in "April Love" he sings a song by the same name. I was shocked to find a video of the song (taken from the movie) on-line.

If you watch the video, try to figure out which girl he ends up with: the wholesome, not supposed to be flashy, blond; or the slighty more flashy, but still wholesome, blond. It was the '50's. LOL!

Edit: The video won't play. Here's the link.

Old Joke and a Question

Patient: Doctor, I know I'm human, but honestly I feel like I'm a dog.

Doctor: How long have you felt that way?

Patient: Gosh, always, ever since I was a puppy!

Okay, now for the question. One of your loved ones has an itch on their shoulder blade that they just can't reach to scratch. The person sees your hair brush and gets an idea. When you walk in the room and see your hair brush being used as a back scratcher, do you:

A) offer to help scratch the itch;

B) smile and be glad the person found relief; or

C) tell the person he owes you a new brush???

Remember that your hair just might be the dirtiest part of your body at the end of the day, since it filters the air around you. Also remember that we're not talking about a hobo who has wandered into your home and misappropriated your hair brush. The person is a loved one.

Also, how did I do at writing an unbiased question/survey? I bet you can't tell what answer I'm hoping for. ;P

Annual Family Gathering

I had brunch with my 5 siblings on Saturday. Have I mentioned I'm the youngest? Haha, I know, only about 12,000 times.

It wasn't so bad this year. Everyone was pleasant, there weren't even any little digs. I did feel some minor aggravation towards the sister who stayed at my house Friday night. She was in town from Buffalo. Oh, she told me people in Buffalo HATE Canadians! How could anyone hate Canadians? She doesn't, but she hears complaints like, "They drive too slow." Wow, Canadians enter a foreign country and obey the law. Bastards! .

Anyway, that particular sis is a little arrogant--not uncommon in our family. She's surprised when other people know anything and SHOCKED when they know things she does not. I wish I had a nickel for each time she's asked me, "How to YOU know that???" Then I could afford to move to Canada (;P). I've learned to be amused by her. Friday evening I told her that everyone knows things we don't--even 5 year-olds have probably picked up some piece of information that I've never come across, so it's important to listen to everyone. I hoped she would take it to heart. She didn't. But she shared a story about my father and I that made me look great. So she'll be welcome next time. By me. .

My wife may require some convincing. While I was showering Saturday morning, sis told my wife how badly her new husband's family behaved when her father-in-law passed away. She wished they could have been more civilized, "like we were". She couldn't remember whose idea it was, but recalled that we took turns selecting keepsakes. My wife got really annoyed and reminded her that the other two sisters had raided the house before our dad's funeral--taking jewelry and silver. She reminded her that's when I took over the process, forced them to return what they'd taken and put in place the system of taking turns. That didn't ring a bell with my sister, she just remembered it "going so smoothly" and refused to acknowledge I set up the selection process (oldest first, youngest last). To me, that rewriting of history is expected and amusing (humor everywhere, right?). To my wife, it's infuriating. It all happened just a few years ago!!! Sis may have to stay somewhere else next year. .

PS - My siblings get together every spring to discuss what we (I) did with our dad's estate. It's not much, but we (I) kept it together to take care of our step-mom. It's what he wanted. They didn't like it, but I guess they're getting used to it. This was the first gathering that didn't include a terrible argument. Progress! =)

Wing man??? Mayday! Mayday!

I have dinner every once in a while with a single pal of mine. Every time he suggests instead of dinner, we should go to a bar so I can be his wingman. Every time I tell him, "No, I'm married!" But in truth, even if I were single I wouldn't do it. Don't get me wrong, I've helped friends--like the poem I wrote for a guy to pass off as his own, stuff like that. But I wouldn't be a wingman. Back when I was single (you know, 14 or 15 ;P), I had a few bad experiences.

Way back when, my friend Tom was going to see a girl and asked me to provide moral support. She had a friend visiting and the 4 of us talked in her living room. She and Tom left for awhile (they were in the kitchen with her mom). I chatted with the friend as we watched a movie. Within 20 minutes the pair returned and Tom and I left. The next time I saw our hostess, she said she was so glad her friend and I were a couple, she knew we would hit it off. I'd been set up and didn't know it! She got mad when I set her straight (not a couple)--and stayed mad! The friend wasn't upset, just the matchmaker. The next day when Tom and I got off the bus after baseball practice, we heard the girl yelling to us from her porch, "Hey, you two, I want to talk to you." I ignored her, so she kept yelling, "Rick! Rick, I want to talk to you." Tom thought I should go over--I told him no, I wasn't going to engage. When she realized I wasn't stopping she yelled, "That's right Rick, keep going. Just run away!!!" I didn't stop until I was home. We played out that same scene every afternoon for a week--with her adding more interesting profanity each day.

Around that same time, I received the fallout from having helped a friend almost a year earlier. Mark asked me to go to a baseball game with him. He was meeting a girl and wanted me along to talk with her friend. I did and we had a nice time. Later (almost a year later), as I was warming up in center field before a baseball game, I heard a girl yelling. I looked over and it was the girl Mark met at the game last year. She was yelling at ME...and using interesting profanity right from the start. She didn't need time to warm up like the other kid. She was quite emotional and convinced that somehow I had hurt her friend. In the face of her fury, I decided to move to right field to put some distance between us. As I meandered over there, I heard her yell, "That's right, just run away!"

Now, I like to think I'm not a coward. I didn't run from an armed nut on a strange Halloween night or the crazy truck driver who stalked me to the train station. I could deal with them. But those two teenage girls completely confused me and all I could think to do was walk away. All I'd done was talk to their friends in support of my friends. Why the anger that bordered on rage? Because of those two experiences, at the ripe old age of 15 I permanently retired from the role of wingman. I know that adults are much more rational than teenagers and hopefully I'm a little wiser now. But when given a chance to be an adult wingman, I think I'd rather take my chances facing a pack of angry wolves.

When it comes to being a wingman, this "coward" bails out! ;P

Edit: Please note that it was the friends who got upset, not the girls I talked to. I guess the friends wanted to palm those girls off on me. Story of my life, girls' friends and mothers always liked me more than the girls themselves--especially the mothers.

Humor Everywhere (almost)

Maybe it's just me, but I think there's humor out there just waiting for us to see it. Today I was reading an article in the Washington Post about scandals facing DC's new mayor: nepotism; cronyism; violating the city’s salary ceiling; paying a 3rd candidate to politically attack the former mayor. It’s a sad situation. But as I read the article, I started laughing because of this sentence:

"Gray and Green have denied wrongdoing in the case of Brown's allegations"

Whatever it is Green may have done, I’m sure Blue and Yellow put her up to it! =)

Also, thanks for your comments on the post about my brother. For those who wondered, my wife is the only family member who visits my blog, but there was nothing in the post that hasn’t been discussed openly within our family. The post was the result of disappointment, I thought he was changing. My mistake. But it reminded me of something. When someone disappoints us, we need to step back and think about whether it happened because the person misled us or we misled ourselves, wanting the person to be something they are not. Just a thought.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

My Brother

This a TMI, personal post. I have a story about my brother...and how he taught me to stay focused in the face of danger. He was the danger. I'm a little annoyed about it today because I just learned he tells the story as an example of something great he did. He laughs and is proud. Here's the story.

I was 12 and about to join my first little league baseball team. To prepare for that, my friends and I formed mini-teams to practice. We played in a rocky field next to the neighbor’s house across the street. The field had been the staging area when the house was built and there were lots of rocks and small pieces of cinderblock. You didn't dare slide during the games.

My 15 year-old brother was a real sports nut and often served as the umpire when his team wasn’t playing. During one of those games, the neighbor’s son hit a ground ball to me. It hit a rock and bounced away. For some reason, my brother went berserk that I didn’t catch it. He wasn't even on my team, he was the umpire!!! He ran over to me and started yelling. Then I made a big mistake.

Fights with that brother were common. He had a bad temper and you never knew what would set him off. I knew we were about to fight and thought, “here we go again". During the time it took for me to have that thought, I sighed and rolled mys eyes—for just a second. When I looked back, my brother had already reared back and was throwing the ball at my face as hard as he could. Since we were only 5 feet apart, I didn't have time to react. The ball hit me in the middle of the forehead and I dropped over backwards like a tree falling. I'm not sure what happened next. But apparently the neighbors (Mr. and Mrs. B) chased my brother off and helped me to my feet. He wasn't allowed to return—ever.

I thought maybe he told people the story as a form of confession, maybe he felt guilty. But his wife assured me that wasn't the case...he thinks it's one of the funniest things he's done. It was probably the hardest shot to the head I ever took from him....so, that's funny???


PS - He started a lot of fights.  Since he's 3 years my senior, I was at a disadvantage until I was about 15.  At that point he learned not to start trouble with me. When I was practicing driving at 16 I accidentally hit his car. Rather than starting a fight, he decided to run into the house instead. It took him a few more years and a trip to the hospital to learn he shouldn't start fights with strangers. My brother!

Penmanship Tag

I remember clearly when my penmanship went off track. Our teacher was introducing us to cursive writing and the first few letters were easy. Aa, Bb, Cc--then I had to go to the nurse's office. By the time I got back to class they were doing "Uu" and I was lost. And the fact that my fine motor skills suck may have something to do with it too. Writing, drawing, or painting with precision are real challenges.

But a wonderful blogger, Krissy, tagged me to do this penmanship post. So, even though it highlights one of my most glaring weaknesses as a human being (chimps write better), below is a sample of my handwriting--read on and feel better about your own. ;P

Except for my signature, I don't use cursive--not since high school. The tag questions are:

1. What's your name/ Blogger name?
2. What's your blog's name/ URL?
3. Write "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."
4. Favorite quote?
5. Favorite song?
6. Favorite bands/ singers?
7. Anything else you want to say?
8. Tag 3 - 6 people

I tag Lei, 我 MOI, kristieinbc, RML, MizzJ, and Reina. I don'tthink I've seen their handwriting yet! Many of my blogger friends have completed this tag already and gave great answers to #4. I've tried to avoid copying any of them--although, it certainly wouldn't look the same in my handwriting. Okay, here goes:

Lost Treasures II

The day after I turned six, I received a great gift. It was a box of Tonka trucks. The aunt I'd lived with my first 6 months sent them via my grandmother. Her husband had an excavation business and the box included a dump truck, cement mixer, and a bulldozer with a backhoe. They were vintage toys that had never been used.

I'd never had such nice things, but I wanted to play with them. So I did. While my older siblings were at school (or work) during the week I'd take my trucks out to our "sand pile". I had a lot of fun working on imaginary projects. When I was done, I always rinsed them off under our outside spigot, dried them, and carefully placed them back into their box.

One day I went to get them, but couldn't find the box. I wondered if my dad had rearranged stuff in our basement and the box was somewhere else. I asked about the box at dinner and couldn't believe the answer. My dad had given the toys to a friend of his, as a gift for a newborn son. My prized possesions were gone. I couldn't speak, but the horror showed on my face. My father said, "You never played with them. They were just taking up space." Arrrgh!!!

Lesson learned--well, really, I didn't learn this lesson until much later, but the process took its first step that day. The lesson? People can't read my mind. I loved those toys, but no one knew it and I lost them. Don't let that happen to you, show your feelings, appreciation, etc.--and yes, now I'm talking about people, not the toys. Don't make those you care about wonder if you care at all. Who really cares about some old toys anyway. I mean, sure, they were shiny and perfect and I loved them and they were mine! How dare they...oops, got off track. What I want to say is they were just things. People are the real treasures.

PS - The bulldozer was a perfect shade of yellow. *sigh* ;P