fooling myself

Watching the weather yesterday, I imagined today's soccer game being cancelled, and I relished the thought of getting some sleep.

Friday is the latest night Momma works, usually getting home sometime after 4:00 Saturday morning. It's hard not to stay up sometimes, thinking I'm waiting for her to get home, but I seldom actually stay up that late, especially if we have 9:30 soccer games Saturday morning.

We didn't get the shitty end of the storms, but we are getting plenty of rain, enough so that the games were cancelled. But did I get back to bed? I suppose I could have after my nine phone calls to tell families not to bother going to the fields. But I didn't, and no amount of wishing I had will get me that sleep I gave up on.

So the clock slowly wends it's way toward 10:00, and I'm the only one awake. I've lied about all the reasons to homeschool, and this is the true reason that you can sleep in. At least you can most days. I'm not saying you should, but you can. I'm a little surprised that neither of the boys are awake. I really expected The Boy to be up and about as this is his usual time. I'm not complaining that he isn't up as I'm actually getting a little peace and quiet, sadly rare and all too shortlived.

It's time to run to the garage. I can get another cigarette in before my shift starts.

GAAAAACCKKKK!!!

Aren't modern times great? Isn't it lovely that we can go from an interesting idea in children's fantasy literature to having the actual thing? And magic has nothing to do with it.

I know, that wordacious first paragraph as filler before I get to the real meat of the deal here.

Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans certainly sounded like fun the first time we read Harry Potter. I certainly didn't want to taste half the flavors, but that didn't matter. Wizard candy would seem difficult to attain in the Muggle world.

Then along comes Jelly Belly, fast becoming my favorite producer of nonchocolate candies. Anyone who can make a jelly bean flavored like buttered popcorn vaults several levels based on that one candy alone.

So what I was told was tutti frutti tasted like bubble gum flavor, which I don't really like so much. I'm certainly not repulsed by it, saving repulsion for the next one. Big Brother checked the bean then checked the guide on the package and declared it was either dirt or earthworm. It was dirt, but not a spitting dry dirt out of your mouth in a soccer game kind of dirt. This was a gummy dirt that still lingers somewhere in my nasal passages. Follow that with sardine which I promptly spit out.

I doubt The Boy notices differences in flavor when eating candy as he generally just attacks it. But Big Brother has to check each individual jelly bean before eating it so that he knows what flavor it is. I'm not sure if that stops him from eating any of them. I'm also not sure how they get the grass flavor to taste like grass. But that's quite okay.

braggin' on Momma

Momma has been practicing for the past few weeks with the Hard Knox Rollergirls, our town's answer to the growing roller derby craze. The practices are held at a fairly local roller skating rink. We aren't the only people there with kids, and several of the other girls bring their kids. During practice, any nonrollergirls are allowed to skate around the outside of the rink.

Big Brother is taking to the skates like a natural. He's made a couple of new friends as well as getting to see some old friends that we haven't seen in a while.

At the first practice I followed The Boy around, ready at a moment to catch him before he fell. Practice number two he didn't want to be followed/helped, so I let him go and did a little skating myself.

Last night I didn't bother with skates. The Boy wasn't making my night easy, and my sore as shit inner thigh muscles didn't need to be worked that way. So I got to pay attention to the girls a bit more.

They are coming along nicely. Many of the girls hadn't really skated before or hadn't skated in a very long time. Momma certainly hadn't skated in a while, though she actually owns her own skates.

On to the brag and the finish.

During time trials, Momma out skated every one there and consistently scored the lowest times. As I watched, I saw where she could get even faster. She needs better wheels if not better skates altogether. Her wheels were slipping as she took the curves, though she controlled her speed and turns well and didn't fall. If she were more stable in the curves at speed, she would easily shave a couple of seconds or more off her time.

They also began splitting into teams last night. I'm not sure exactly what's happening, how it's working, but I'm thinking that all the girls are basically the beginning of the local league, and from the crowd of girls at the practices they will form teams. Momma was offered a position on a team almost immediately.

Other than a message board, the only website I can find for the Hard Knox Roller Girls is their Myspace page. It's linked if anyone cares to check it out.

nothing worse

In a comment to my last post concerning Bush, the unstoppable juggernaut of unable to admit his own evil, friend Bridget left this comment.

Ah, not to worry.

The White House isn't a foreign place to our next President. She's just going to be sitting in a different office.

This comment of course reminded me of a delightful piece of video that the good folks over at Daily Kos were nice enough to point out and link to.

According to Tom Delay, there is nothing worse than a "know it all woman."

Take it for what it is. Hardball really doesn't seem that hard in light of the pandering to Delay that is evident in this clip.

And for the record, so that she can be even with Bill, I'll stand up now and offer my services to perform for Mrs. Clinton from under the desk.

ancient history, modern lessons

Can Bush learn from ancient Greek history? We are well into a war with no end in sight, and Lioness makes an great observation on this HERE.

Oh how I long for a day when I don't hear the phrase "President Bush" ever again.

guide to dining in a restaurant, the first

Too often customers dining in a restaurant don't quite know how to behave. It isn't that they can't behave in public, but for some reason, entering a restaurant seems to give these people a misplaced sense of themselves as a sort of master of the staff.

This isn't a post I've planned out and thought about in a usual sense. However, though I'm currently a stay at home dad, my work history is almost entirely food service based. I have several years of cooking experience along with a very few in management roles.

This post sprang from an experience that my wife had at work last night. Apparently, she is very often the only person inside Nama with a lighter. Nama, a swanky sushi bar here in the Patch, is one of a very few local places that are voluntarily smoke free. This is a whole other post that I need to write concerning establishment by government of smoke free by legislation. Momma's lighter was making the rounds of people, some staff using it to light tableside candles, some staff and customers taking the lighter outside to smoke.

She was not in possession of her lighter at the time of this occurrence. She had loaned it to a staff member and hadn't yet gotten it back, though she was aware that this staff member had sent it out on a loan train through staff and customers. One particular customer wanted to borrow the traveling lighter and knew that it belonged to her. So how did he request the use of the lighter?

Okay, hours later and at home, upon hearing the story, I nearly flew into a rage. This is something that you should NEVER do to anyone, especially anyone who is in control of how your food arrives for you to eat.

So what did this chump do? He snapped his fingers at her. He didn't utter a single word, didn't say please or anything that reasonable people do. He snapped his fucking fingers at her!!!

You might call a dog by snapping your fingers. You might snap your fingers in time to music. You might even try to get your kids attention with a quick snap of the fingers. But you should never, ever snap your fingers at the staff of any restaurant ever.

It is extremely rude. It is somewhat dehumanizing, especially in an industry so devoted to pleasing customers. Along with all the work it takes to run a restaurant correctly comes the attitudes of people who leave their humaneness at the door. Without having done the job, one cannot have any idea of the extreme stress of doing the job. Add to the unavoidable stresses the shitty attitudes of customers who expect servitude to just increase the stress.

I'll have to readdress this topic of customer behavior somewhat over time. I won't go into anything else here that idiot customers can do to infuriate restaurant staff. I will return to this in future postings and perhaps I'll write a tidy little pile of blogs that will become a book. I've long thought about writing a manual for restaurant diners so that they can be sure of good service and food. I have a store of experiences and anecdotes on which to rely as well as many friends in the business to maintain the flow.

We'll leave the topic for now however. We will reiterate what we've just learned. Do NOT snap your fingers at your server or at the cooks. It isn't appreciated and will only cause the staff to remember you as an asshole. It will reflect poorly on you and it very well might affect the service you can expect.

need to refocus myself

The point of this blog was never to sit idly waiting for me to remember it. I hoped to do more writing here of various kinds. I hoped that this would give me more reason and desire to write, to get back into the habit of writing regularly.

I've let the internet rule most of my days lately. Aside from constantly checking bloglines to see if there are new posts, I find that I keep getting dragged to blogs that I wouldn't normally bother with. I'm proud of some of the writing I've done in some comments to some fools. I can even make decent comments to the smart and nice people that I feel a camaraderie with in this crazy internet/blogging/homeschooling world that's growing so wonderfully.

In addition, and as a shitty excuse, I've let my online time grow to encompass so much of my day that I don't allow myself time for much else. My patience with the boys has diminished because of this as well. I can't blame the internets for my own problem, no matter how much I'd like.

Basically, I need to refocus myself and my energies. Even cooking meals has slid to a place of unimportance that really should embarrass me. I've allowed the boys unending hours of television, and they've proven that they will watch just about any cartoon, even if they saw the exact same episode mere hours ago.

All that to say, I should spend less time fucking off around these parts, but I don't know how likely that is. I really need to get off my ass and do lots of things. The computer aint going to do it for me, so I guess it really is up to me.

Okay, now I've said to much. The computer can hear me I think, and it knows what I'm saying. I don't think I'm making it happy, and I'm afraid it's going to do something. I'm sorry, computer. It's not you; it's me.

crazy weather

Sometime around 8:00 last night, shortly before the sky opened over us, I noticed a weather report. I could have told you it was going to rain, and suddenly it did.

I quickly remembered the car windows and quickly ran to roll them up. The driver's side, into which the rain was ferociously blowing is the hard one. While pushing the button you have to pull the window up. This of course was especially difficult as the window and my fingers were soaked. As I got the windows up the hail started. I waited the hail out in the car then darted inside.

The storms raged on and off all night. The wind was insane, howling around the house, roaring in the tree tops. It was a night to feel small and weak in the face of that tiny taste of what nature can do.

I learned this morning about the tornadoes in the other end of our state. We were under a torndoe watch ourselves for a bit of last night, but I hadn't heard of any touching down at that point. Our largest hail was golf ball size according to my wife. I was retucking The Boy into his bed and heard it, but I wanted him asleep and wasn't willing to get up and check it out. I could hear how bad it was though.

All day today we saw dark clouds hovering, blowing slowly past. The wind was in the tree tops again with it's steady roar. There's something almost hypnotic in watching the trees in the wind. Miyazaki captures that mysteriousness really well in My Neighbor Totoro, especially when Tsatsuki is outside getting firewood and the wind come blasting through and whips the wood pile into the air. I didn't expect this would end with Miyazaki, but it's fitting. Whenever I really notice the wind, I tend to also think of Totoro as the wind is such an interesting facet of the movie.

In addition to the links above, here is the IMDB page about Miyazaki. I wouldn't bother so much, but he deserves every bit of recognition he gets, and all children deserve to watch his movies.

Our weather should be normal and calm by tomorrow. I hope so. I have great plans for mowing grass sometime this week. I'd like for our practice field to be dry for Big Brother's soccer practice tomorrow night.

using a comment as a blog, with commentary

I'm not sure what exactly Danny was getting at when he posed his comment to me in his blog. I'm not going into the whole story of why the hell I ever bothered with this dumb fuck, but I did. Go see Doc about it if you want any more info. Those that know already already know, and since they are the few people reading this, they already know. Anyway, here is my response to the new Dumbass Danny. Anyway, after my "hitting kids is bad" comment, he accused me of being a spanker. I answered him.

I will admit, Danny, that I have spanked my kids. I have used very flimsy arguements to justify it. I still feel the shame of having hit my kids, and I know that I've done bad and hurtful things to my kids.
I know what it's like to feel that I have so little control that perhaps I should hit my kids and make them do what I want. That is a very powerless situation to put yourself in as a
parent, but that is nothing compared to what it does to our kids.
I also know what it's like to grow up with the dread of the whippings. I grew up being whipped in a manner that doesn't seem too far away from much of what the Pearl family suggests. Did they ever serve their intended function? Not one bit. They certainly hurt like hell. If anything, they served only to frighten and hurt me as a child, confuse me as an adult and to lessen my supply of tools with which to raise my children.
Once you've accepted hitting as acceptable, it lessens the power of every thing you do and it cheapens your role as a parent.
No matter how long it's been since I stopped spanking, I still know that fear in my kids' eyes that their father might hurt them. They certainly know I've hurt them, and I can't even start to think how that might effect them. I still know that I'm a person that has hurt his children.
I think a number of parents are upset at this boycot because it points out their own shortcomings. If you've been spanking, you've conditioned your kids with pain, how can you ever hope to top that as a motivation? How can you admit that what you've done, what you've justified, is actually wrong? How can you admit that you've twisted scripture to justify wanton abuse of kids? It's really hard to do, to admit that you've been hitting your kids. You never even want to call it hitting, because spanking is more acceptable, while hitting is hitting. But spanking is hitting. You can't spank without hitting. And hitting isn't okay.
If you don't believe that hitting kids is okay, then how can you support people who earn money from advocating the hitting of kids? That's foolish to even think it's okay. It's certainly at least selfish to be more concerned about your internet community than the fact that children are being abused by parents who think it's okay because their church or their christian friends suggest that it's okay.
That is the very heart of the matter, and it seems people want to hide it. Hiding child abuse is as bad as abusing the child. If you hide an entire culture of abuse, then you must take responsibility for each and every child hurt by these teachings.

In a sense, it's sort of a coming clean for me. I really wish I'd never spanked my kids. Nothing I say can change that I did it. I was spanked so regularly as a child that it really lost a lot of the horror that should be associated with hitting kids. It was so normal to me, just a part of life.

There's a dark humor for me in all this talk of spanking. I've read some true horror stories from people who were spanked similarly to how I was spanked. So many people carry such hatred and fear and distrust for their parents into adulthood because of the abuse. I certainly have very conflicted feelings, not the least of which is the distinct difference in my lack of belief versus the whole extreme Baptist upbringing.

I was taught that humans were born with a sin nature. Left to themselves, all people would do all day is lay around and sin. If you were taught at a young age to fear god and dad, you would be spared this horrid life of sin and death and hell. So when I sinned, I was supposed to accept that I deserved to feel the pain of the rod and then be remorseful. I was never sorry because of my sin nature, so I had to be taught with pain how to truly feel sorry.

And still it didn't really have a major effect on me that I can point to and say, "Yes, that's because I was spanked." Of course I haven't really had to think about it for several years, and now it's all slowly coming back out. I don't remember the last time I truly considered the whippings I got till the boycot started me thinking. Reading some of the shit from the Pearl's book was just so much like my own experience that it kind of put me back there. I still don't like to think about it, so I may never figure out how those whippings fucked me up.

Between reading at Danny's then answering and having to be lazy about blogging, I need a fucking cigarette and a beer. I'm sinning twice, and it's all because I didn't get punished often enough as a child. Is cussing a sin? The commandments don't say "thou shalt not say fuck or shit or damn or hell or pussy or dick or etc." So what's a bitch to do? Fuck it, I need that goddamn cigarette!

who the fffffffff

I'll go ahead and admit that I'm jumping on this from damn Kos. But seriously, who the fuck does this Howard Kaloogian think he is?

Here's the link, BLECH-AAAACK!

Cindy Sheehan is anti-troop? And he's pro-troop because he insisted that fresh coffee be given to some of our troops? Fuck you Howard Kaloogian! Why don't you and your coffee go and fight the fucking war and let the soldiers come home to their families?

How much more up Bush's ass could the Republican party be?

do you hit kids?

Regardless of where we think babies come from, when we choose to produce them and bring them into this world, we take on a certain duty and responsibility to them. Sadly, many of us don't stick with the contract.

I propose we remove words like spanking and beating and abusing from conversations that involve children. In their place we will simplify it to hitting. There are other abuses of children, but we aren't discussing those right now.

Do you hit kids? Do you hit all the kids around you that don't obey your rules? Do you hit your own kids? Do you call it something else when in reality it is hitting? Do you hit kids? Are you an adult? Do you hit you husband/wife? Do you hit your kids? Do you hit your neighbor? Do you hit the cashier at the grocery store? Do you hit kids? Do you hit your siblings? Do you allow your kids to hit? Do you hit kids?

It's just that simple. Kids don't react as well to being hit as you might think. Regardless of human resiliency, kids don't like being hit. Kids don't deserve to be hit. Do you think it would be okay for me to come hit you?

How about that last one? What if I came and hit you? Would that be okay? What if I could show you scriptural passages that I said indicated that I should hit you? Would that be okay? If I said to you that god told me to come and hit you, that god wasn't happy with what you were doing. Could I come and hit you then? If I decided that you were not following god's law, could I come and hit you?

Do you hit kids?

Even if you say that you don't beat or abuse your kids, if you hit them, then you've gone too far. You've proven that you are an incapable parent. You have two options. You can stop hitting and start parenting, or you can find a way to pretend that hitting kids is okay. You can be an adult, or you can be a person that hits kids.

Do you hit kids?

today is . . .

Wednesday, 3/29, and Momma is, as usual, at work. The weather here has a hint of coolness, yet it is a beautiful day full of sunshine. I've scooped the dog poop from the yard and kicked the boys out into the outside to play. I however sit hunched over the computer tappingtappingtapping the keys, trying like hell to write something both legible and readable with just a touch of worthwhileness to it in the hopes that one day I will be the king of blogs.

Or not!

I have a mental list of chores that need to be done. I can look into the garage from here and see one of my big chores, cleaning that giant hole that hasn't been clear enough in years to admit a car. The grass is growing in wild patches of grass here, of lovely little purple flowers there. The lawnmower awaits, still resting from last year, hoping like hell that this is the year I change the oil.

Being Wednesday, tonight is Momma's roller derby practice. I'm sure I'll take the boys, and Big Brother will get even better on the roller skates while The Boy will continue his baby stepping along, convinced that my hands will forever hover just so, ready to either catch or pick up as soon as he should slip and fall.

Being 3/29, tomorrow is Lucero. I love getting to go out to see bands, and I've been looking forward to this show for a couple of months now. I certainly plan on fitting as many High Lifes into my belly as I can, and I might even raise the rock fist and sing along. Being the stay at home dad these days, along with Momma's all too often insane work schedule, my going out has been seriously curtailed. Subconciously, that seems to mean make up for lost time when the chance finally drops into my lap.

I know that it wasn't that long ago that I mentioned Lucero, and perhaps I should take a break between my rabid fan talk, but I just can't. Remember being a teenager when a single band could really change your life? You would get that album/tape/cd and listen to it so much that you almost wore it out that first week. The band took on some mythical greatness in your teen mind, and every word and note spoke to you of something bigger than you'd ever known, love greater than has ever existed, things you alone understood.

Then you grow up and things aren't so big, so grand, so right or so wrong anymore. You appreciate and love music a little differently. You've seen more of the world and of life and you just aren't as green as you were back then.

I believe that almost anyone can write a good song, and almost anyone can fall into a just so alignment where they have that one huge hit song without actually being a good enough band/musician to last. I need only mention the song "Come on Eileen (sic?)" to prove that point. Many bands can pull off a certain sound with a certain panache that they attract a cult following without having to actually be a good band, i.e. The Smiths (blech.) Some bands seem formed by someone else, a sort of musical ID that sits alone in the heavens, always knowing how and when to nudge this guitar player with that drummer who is friends with that guy that writes songs.

I fear I'll never stop adding to this meandering thing. I've come and gone several times, most recently to fix lunch for a pair of monkeys. Now I'm back and wondering what possessed me to start writing where I did, and what took me around that random corner to finish writing where I did. The world is certainly a worse place because I can't answer that question.

word of the day is . . .

Forfend, as in an old lady, back of her hand to her forehead as she slips from the chair in a dead faint at the sight of . . .whatever the hell could offend some genteel old matron.

"Heaven forfend," she says just as her eyes close in the swoon.

Forfend: avert, ward off, forbid or go to dictionary.com for the whole story like I did.

I'm afraid that once again I was reading at the Daily Kos. I usually only check them in my bloglines, but sometimes, as will happen throughout bloggywood, some random topic will actively suck me onto the page. Someone's comment contained the term "heaven forbid" which term I tend to mentally translate to "heaven forfend" because it sounds archaic and silly, like something Bart Simpson would say on any random episode in which he had to wear any sort of period dress.

Maybe I will dredge up more words of the day. It isn't a bad idea and additionaly gives me a topic about which I shouldn't generally be able to fuss/cuss over too much. Having said that, I'm due for a good rant sometime soon. I also don't have to think or link too much, just gibber a little bit in a way that at least I am amused by.

word of the day anyone?

So I'm reading at Daily Kos about some political shit. I'm not going into it anymore than I have to because I don't want to plagerise them. The link will take you directly to the article, though it actually has nothing to do with my own blog. I include it as a reference just in case anyone wonders where I got this idea. I'm just covering my bases with thos Kos people. Don't hate me. I lean left. I'm cool.

The article was about privacy rights and mentioned an inability in some on the right to not be very tech savvy. A mention was made to a pair of lobbyists/criminals referring to clients as "troglodytes."

I've heard/read the word before and know that it's meant as an insult. I hear the word and think of some sort of mythical stone being, something like an ancient Thing from The Fantastic Four, but not so bright perhaps. I imagine something hulking and ancient, weathered by time.

Regardless of what I thought I knew, I knew I didn't know.

The following is from answers.com or go directly to the troglodyte page.

Troglodytes is a genus of small passerine birds in the wren family. The genus name (Greek troglodytai, from trogle, "a hole" and dyein, "to enter") refers to the tendency of these wrens to enter small crevices and similar as they forage for food.

These wrens are around 11-12 cm long. They are typically streaked brown above and somewhat paler below, with short rounded wings, strong legs and a cocked tail. The flight is direct and buzzing.

Ssssssssssssoooooooooo . . .yeah . . .ya buncha dumbass wrens! HaHa, you forage for food and tend to make a buzzing noise in flight! Wrens SUCK! But seriously, I'm not Googling this one no matter how easy it is, but who the hell first used troglodyte as an insult? I'd love to know the context of this one.

why I won't bother

I grew up Christian, and I do remember the Bible. I have not forgotten a lot of what was drilled into me as a child. I could easily use the Bible to show certain people how, in their christian zeal, they are breaking the laws of their lord and of the Bible.

I've decided I won't do that. It's a waste of my time. As has been pointed out plenty of times, you just can't argue with someone who refuses to see logic. If you use the Bible or "god said it" to argue your points, besides making you look foolish, you accomplish nothing.

I do not believe the Bible nor do I believe in any religion that is based on the Bible. I believe the Bible is a book written over a number of years by myriad writers, each one interested in some personal reasons. Perhaps our planet has, in the past, been visited by sentient beings, and perhaps our ancestors, in their ignorance believed these beings to be divine. It could just as easily have been the lizard men from Atlantis who impregnated the monkeys whose offspring became human, half monkey/half lizard.

It is impossible to argue with closed minds. Some people have their identity so tied up in a narrow religious based view of the world that they are unable to see the truth of anything.

I have to wonder about that certain kind of christian who takes upon themselves to do god's work. The Bible never suggests that christians should deal in hatred and meaness and spiteful words. The Bible never suggest that it's followers should judge others or punish them. The Bible never tells christians to force their beliefs and laws on anyone. The Bible does say to live so that your life is like a light, a beacon to those around you that they will see the peace that god brings. You can't do this while being mean to people and damning them.

Having said all that, I foresee some visits from christians to insist on my wrongness. The Bible to me is not worth the paper it's printed on. I will gladly read any arguements to what I've said, but any arguement that is based on the Bible instead of actual logic is basically of slightly less value than a fart. A least a fart brings some relief.

been a long time

Wow, I haven't posted in a week! I guess I haven't had anything to be a foul mouthed jerk about. I can't really say that, but I watched as the moral watchdogs turned nasty and went feral on a person that could call her own army around her and smite them all if she wanted to. I'm serious about that shit too, a damn army of angry homeschoolers who be totally ready to start some shit. And from watching that, I decided that this would be the time that I didn't go goofy and rant and cuss. They make themselves look bad and this would be one time that I didn't join them in the hysterics, though my own hysterics are so far removed from theirs, excepting of course the hystericyness. Yeah, I need to think about that.

I found another cool Google Earth download, Unesco World Heritage Sites. I've barely checked it out as there are an enormous number of sites around the world. A member of Google Earth Community, which I'm not, sent them THIS, which she created to showcase paintings she's done. She's marked the places, mostly in France, where she painted different pictures. I love the texture it adds, to see her view of these place against the eye in the sky view of Google Earth.

This is the week that I finally see Lucero. They are playing an in store at 4:00 in the afternoon so the boys will get to see them. I'm almost sure that Momma has some babysitting set up so that she and I can go see them that night. I believe Momma and I may also get to see The American Plague.

Lucero is a band that I would describe as being born of beer and heartache. While the same could be said of a great many bands, these guys just do it better than most. I could get mystical and hippy about it and suggest some sort of cosmic gathering that brought these four guys together. They really do just work perfectly. To hear some Lucero, click HERE and then on "Nobody's Darling" under the album cover.

The American Plague are local boys. I haven't been listening to them a lot till just recently. I'd heard of them, but my nights out are so random and often unpredictable that I've never been able to see them. I've finally heard them often enough on the local college station that I finally picked up their cd. Description? different heavier '70's styles influenced kind of? Maybe that would work. Kick Fuckin Ass? Well, that would definitely work. To hear The American Plague you can check their Myspace page HERE.

I have no point

First, we'll get the weekend's soccer injuries out of the way. I took what was basically a straight kick to the knee from one of my U8's on Saturday. That one hurt a lot at the time. It's a little tender still, but it's nothing serious.

I didn't play more than twenty minutes today. I didn't start, and very shortly after subbing in I endured one of those top-of-the-list sort of soccer specific joys. The pass was from roughly two feet away and sent the ball very forcefully at about a 45 degree angle. The ball travelled with great velocity into the meat and two veg. As men do when taking this sort of abuse, I immediately went into the fetal position and fell onto the ground.

I won't bore you with the details, the soggy, spongey quality of the field, the deathly cold wind that wouldn't stop, the hopping up and down to be sure that everything was where it ought to be. We lost by much more than we should have to a team that outpassed us. We wasted several good passes by overshooting and giving the goalkeeper the ball. I have to wonder if I hadn't taken the crotch express if I couldn't have stopped a few of their shots, turned the game a bit. But then I think that I don't want to presume such. But seriously, we need to practice.

Okay, that's the soccer post.

goodbye Buck

Country music lost another of the good ones. Buck Owens left us sometime today, and he'll be missed. The link is blue because that's how I feel.

Born the son of a sharecropper in Texas, Buck Owens was doing a man's job by the time he was 13 and making music by 16. His is yet another of those quintessentially American stories.

We miss you already Buck Owens!

amazon sells child abuse manual

Amazon, the renowned internet purveyor of books and more sells Debi and Michael Pearls' books. These books are basically manuals on ways to train a child through continued beatings in order to create a child that obeys on command. The Pearls misuse the Biblical scriptures to justify their horrible and abusive techniques. I have been looking forward to making some purchases from Amazon, but I find that I just can't help them. Buy selling the Pearls' books, Amazon is part of the problem, they are implicitly condoning the brutalization of children in the name of training.

Please join the boycott of all who sell the books of the Pearls or otherwise support them and their abuse.

soccer stadiums of the world

I've fallen in love. And it's all about soccer again. This time however it's Google Earth related, so no dirty thoughts there people.

I found this new toy at Google Earth blog. A lot of the stuff they discuss is beyond me or my concern. Some of it looks neat, but it's just not for me. So imagine my surprise tonight. I can now check out a little over 1,600 soccer stadiums around the world using Google Earth.

I haven't messed with it a whole lot just yet. I checked out the local college stadium where our Lady Vols have been hurtin' some people lately (okay, last fall.) I next looked at RFK where I really want to go see DC United put a hurtin' on someone. Did I tell you that Red Bull bought the Metro Stars? Yeah, that Red Bull.

So before coming back to blog about my new adoration, I was in Germany. I need to start buying lottery tickets again so I can win a trip to the World Cup. I figure the whole trip can be done right for a million, so if I win the Powerball, that's where I'll be this summer.

I'm sure the few people reading this give a shit, so here's the link. Have a blast flying around the world checking out soccer stadiums. Vive la futbol!!! And if you don't have Google Earth, HOLY CRAP! What are you waiting for? And you call yourself a homeschooler? Seriously, if you don't have it, it is soooooo cool! So cool! Go get it.