Beyond annoying

Have you ever encountered something that makes you want to ram your fingers into your ears so deeply that you are rendered instantly deaf?  Or that you wish for the onset of instant hysterical blindness the very minute you see that something?  The very sight of that thing is truly your Achilles' Heel - it cripples you.  I've talked about my crippler, my Kryptonite, before in the Den and it's peanut butter.  It's still hideous to me but I've found its companion and it is...wait for it...any and all commercials for the Kit Kat bar.

Is there anything more annoying?  I dare say no.  Just the sound of that first crackling of the stupid wafer and I'm sent into waves of rage.  That is quickly followed by the hideous sound of someone (someone who should be ashamed of themselves) biting into said wafer and I'm sent into an orbit of white-hot rage. Those two sounds alone slay me.  And not in a good way.  I can't put my finger on why - I just know that I have a visceral and completely unpleasant reaction each and every time I am subjected to that hideous commercial.  It's awful. If the US Army wants to get the confessions moving down in Guantanamo, I recommend playing Kit Kat commercials in an unending loop.  I guarantee that those intelligence officers will have every answer they need in about 30 minutes. Seriously, those commercials are instruments of torture.  Truly beyond annoying.

I may be the only person out there with this specific aversion.  We've all got them.  I suppose that what helps to give each of us our own unique characters.  And you know what, unique is good.  It would be better, though, if it was a unique world free of that annoying commercial...

For Sale - One Home, Excellent Condition

When the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I graduated from college and headed to Phoenix, we thought we'd be there a good long time. We were (thankfully, if you ask me) wrong. More than a few things have changed since we leased our first apartment in the Valley of the Sun twenty-two years ago.  We began our life together behind the Wasatch Curtain, happily housed in Happy Valley, and from there it's been the Valley of the Sun to Southern California (best.house.ever) to the Midwest and now, New England.

It's on, people, yet another move.  Our house is listed and being shown - three showings and it's been on the market one day!  I can only hope/dream/have faith that this is a good sign.  We didn't even have three showings on our California house in six months when it was on the market. Of course, I firmly believe the day that we listed that house back in 2006 you could hear the enormous flushing sound that was the real estate market gleefully sinking into the sewer from which it is only now beginning to escape.  It would be awesome if this house would sell quickly.  It will make finding a new home a tad easier.  So if you could spare a prayer, a lighting of a candle, or the ritual slaughter of a goat to get this place sold, we'd be most appreciative.

As we signed the contracts on the house, SML and I couldn't help but feel a tinge of emotion.  We will miss this house.  It has been another place where we've created memories and endeavored to raise our children well.  It's been an imperfect effort as we are far from being a perfect family but we've tried really hard to make our home, regardless of where that's been, a place of love, peace, and refuge for our children.  SML and I firmly believe the words of Psalmist:

Children are an heritage of the Lord - Psalm 127:3

So we've tried to do right by them, regardless of where we've lived.  We'll keep doing that even though we are down to one full-time resident (The Boy) and one part-timer (CAL).  Our moves have taught us many things but have reminded us that home is what you make it.  It's not the four walls that make a home.  It's what you do with those who live inside that makes a home.  Doesn't matter if you are a party of one or a Clintonian "village" family, where there is a sense of peace, love, and security, there's a home.  I'll be glad to reestablish our home soon.  I'll be even happier when the current one sells!

A Man Alone

As this period of transition in the Den continues, far too often, I am a man alone. Sure, I'm surrounded by work colleagues during the day and they are good people.  After work though, when I'm ensconced in the weird world of corporate housing, I'm a man alone.

A note about the denizens of corporate housing:  since when is it appropriate to go straight from the in-house gym sweating like a stuck pig to the site's dinner line?  As information, that answer would be never.  Unfortunately, this is a lesson that has gone untaught here.

Back to the whole lone man thing...it's quiet.  There is something to be said for the peace of solitude.  It's also nice to not have to fight for the remote, although TV is becoming more and more not worth watching.  And you can only surf the internet for so long before you become acutely aware of what an abyss of nothingness it can be.

I've become incredibly grateful for texting, unlimited calling minutes, and Skype.  I talk to the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML daily.  She is handling this latest upheaval with aplomb and she makes me glad every day that she decided to marry me.  I miss seeing her every day.  I'll just be glad when we are under the same roof again.  After twenty-three years of marriage, for us, that's the way it should be.

Dress Codes

Fare thee well, common sense

This winter has pretty much been a bust. It's been more spring-like than winter, for sure.  This is especially true in the Midwest. Our winter has been the mildest in forever.  Can I point out how ironic that is?  Every winter since we moved there was worse than the last until the winter we choose to move. Nice.

Since it's been really warm, people's thoughts have turned to spring and they have decided to dress accordingly.  This has led to a precipitous decline in dress at the Boy's high school.  Here are some of the snippets of the email that we got from the esteemed principal: "Spring has arrived early. And today, many girls came to school dressed inappropriately: too short shorts and too skimpy tops.  We need your help. If they leave the house, get out of the car, or get off the bus dressed appropriately for school that will help us maintain a modest environment. Please help us make a strong effort to enforce our dress code."

A couple of things - that the principal of a large suburban high school must write to parents appealing that they don't let their girls go to school dressed like they are working the pole is just sad.  What saddens me is that I fear that this appeal will fall on deaf ears.  Why? Our recent experience at the Spring Formal.  The Boy and his date went with a big group of other couples and before the dance, all the parents gathered to take pictures of the group.  Upon seeing the group, my appall-o-meter went to 11 on a scale of 1 to 10.  Several of the girls had purchased their dresses at a big blowout sale at Whores R Us.  Two of the dresses, and I use that term as loosely as possible, were apparently painted on. If either of them bent over, you'd see the moon, and not the one Neil Armstrong walked on.  And here's the thing...most of the mothers were oohing and aahing over the dresses and most of the dads nodded approvingly.

Look, I'm not much for prudishness and I'm certainly not Amish, but it's time to take a stand - we've got to step it up.  It's time for parents to stop letting their daughters leave the house looking like they are working the next shift at Club Spanky or their boys looking like they just got out of a Turkish prison.  As fathers, we have to step it up, especially for our daughters.  Fathers were once teen-age boys.  We know how the mind of the teen-age boy works.  That experience should be enough to pretty much never let your daughters leave the house. Even if I hadn't grown up in the Church with its focus on modesty, as a dad, common sense would dictate that my girls would need to cover up a bit before heading out into the world.  I'm not saying burkas, but I'll say this: Modest is hottest.

I'll say it again - modest is hottest.