Greenday.

Green Day's been around awhile now. I've been a fan since their first c.d., Dookie, hit the charts, I took oldest to see them when he was about the age the Lads are now. That was, what, 8 years ago? Sumpin' like that. Saw them with Blink 182 and Jimmy Eat World in Atlanta. This was before American Idiot cemented Green Day's certain entry into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and Blink 182 was headlining, because Green Day didn't have an album out. Green Day was easily the best show. The energy was great and they seemed to genuinely enjoy performing. Green Day's in Atlanta again this weekend, and babymamma and I got tickets for the Lads. 'Course, somebody's got to take them...

Dookie had several hits, but Longview was my favorite.



The Lads' favorite from Green Day's new effort, 21st Century Breakdown, is 21 Guns.



Peacemaker's mine.



Anyway, gotta get back to work. I'll post the trip when I get back.

Out of Pocket.

I'm gonna be scarce for the next few days. I remember hearing a peer from Tennessee use the term "out of pocket" to describe his pending absence. Dumb as I thought it sounded when I heard it, I've about worn it out myself. I've got another term of criminal court this week, and it looks to be a busy term. I dunno. We'll see.

Sam and Ella's.

Sam and Ella's is definitely a place you do not want to get fish. Even salmon. Especially salmon. This fish was definitely not that fish. Scottish salmon, it was, seasoned with herbs fresh from the garden. Talk about GOOD! Add roasted zucchini with feta cheese, mahogany wild rice and a glass of mighty fine Pinot Gris wine, and you've got yourself a feast. Not sure what I did to deserve this, but I ain't complaining.

A Hunting I Will Go.

My buddy, Phil the Gator Hunter, talked me into entering the lottery to apply for an alligator hunting permit. Looks like I was successful. I've been hunting a few times, but never shot anything. I've seen plenty of deer, but only once when I was looking for them. Good. One episode of the the early 1990's t.v. series Northern Exposure, "A Hunting We Will Go" was about Dr. Joel's first- and only- hunting trip. He shoots, then tries to save, his prey. He comments that he gets the excitement of the hunt, but doesn't care for the result. The killing is good; the dying? Not so much. Anyway, I like deer, and I really have no desire to kill them. Alligators? Them, I could kill. At least, that's the plan. 'Course, I could end up like this guy:

Happy Birthday, Babymama.

I had a pile of kids at the Manor over the weekend. Caroline and the Twins plus four friends. Sunday morning the bodies were everywhere. The place looked like the Frat house the night after a big game. The posse was headed back to Beaufort to TT and C's mom's. She just celebrated a birthday of some sort (I'm guessing 39 again), and the kids wanted to bake her a cake. Responsible parents should never allow teenagers to bake, much less decorate, a cake. The phrase "Fut the Shuck Up" is of AndyMan vintage. One of his peers is named Mr. Shuck, giving rise to the A-Man's dangerous combination of words. I'm informed and believe that the gods were not smiling on Ange one day in class, and, well, you can guess the rest. It was all in good fun. My Babymama and I have had our differences, but she's got a decent sense of humor, and she told me that the cake was delicious.

Horde. The cat is definitely horde.

My internet buddy, John in Illinois, has gone MIA. I've counted on him to supply opinions with which I don't necessarily agree (but enjoy reading), and pictures of kittehs and kitsch. I guess I'll sub for awhile. Caroline's kitty, Pharaoh, got up in the foosball pocket. Check out the World of Warcraft box on the floor beneath Pharaoh. For the uninitiated, World of Warcraft participants are in one of two gangs: alliance or horde. Check out the eyes. Yep. Pharaoh is definitely horde.

The Beatles

Oldest son spotted this bug in the yard. He tells me it's from the order coleoptera; a beetle in the vernacular. Not a bad guess, as beetles represent 40% of all insects and are the largest order in the animal kindom according to bug-guide. Still, I couldn't find the particular monniker for this little guy. Unless someone tells me different, I'm calling him a "Davis-beetle". We videoed him, too:
Well if that beetle doesn't suit you, maybe these will:

I 'taut I taw a Puddy Cat.

Watcha lookin' at Kenny?

Gator Country

My old high school chums, Phil and Kenny, stopped by the Boro on the way to points beyond. Phil hunts alligators for a living, and sells gator-related gear. I was a little surprised that the official vehicle for this manly pursuit is, um, a mini-van. Phil offered that he'd gotten a really good deal on it. Phil is a thrifty fellow, you see. Manly, but thrifty. They got all types in Gator Country.

Them's Eats.

Though it's been pretty hot in the Boro, a couple of late afternoons last week were downright pleasant. Pleasant enough, in fact, for deck dining. And what a meal it was: roasted red potatoes, fresh summer squash with red onions, a glass of red wine and, buried under the very fine plant material was a well-crafted ribeye steak. Now that's what I'm talkin' about!

Roadtrip: Charleston

Caroline, her friend, Felicia, and I were all set to travel to Tampa to see Aerosmith and ZZ Top when I got a call last night from AndyMan, and an internet heads-up from Jersey Girl, that Steven Tyler had an undisclosed illness that caused the show to be rescheduled, probably until October. Good thing we opted for a Saturday morning departure instead of the original Friday night plan. Felicia had come down from Charlotte to go with us to Tampa, and Caroline was due some sort of escapade. Well, people come from all over to see the Holy City, Charleston. Market street- where slaves were once bought and sold- is now right in the thick of the tourist district. Maybe we can do a little local touring. On another trip I'll get some pics of the historic buildings. Right now, food and shopping seemed in order.

We went shopping. Well, a little, anyway. Ultimately, Caroline bought only one item: a top from Abercrombie and Fitch that will make it's appearance later in the post.

Caroline and Felicia await French Fries.

Caroline, in her new top, and Felicia outside of Charleston dessert mecca, Kaminski's.

This is why we go to Kaminski's.

Aerosmith

I'm taking my baby girl to Tampa this weekend to see Aerosmith and ZZ Top. We'll stay Saturday night with my brother, the Amazing AndyMan. Got to say I'm jazzed (or, perhaps rocked). Though I liked- and still like- Dream On, my first Aerosmith album was Toys in the Attic. I was maybe a year older than the Twins are now when I got it, and several years younger than my daughter is now. She's taking a girl with whom she's been friends for the majority of their lives. They used to listen to then-current Aerosmith when they were in first grade. I'll post pictures when I get back.

General B.S.(A)

Scrounging through my closet this morning I found my old Cub Scout Leader shirt. Oldest wanted to be in Cub Scouts many moons ago, but the existing den was full, so another parent and I started a new one. Least, that's how I remember it. The atomization of the single family unit rendered any desire for the Twins to participate in Mr. Baden-Powell's crew unreachable. 'Course, the Twins never showed any interest in Scouting. Maybe they knew that Dwight Hansen- the mean step-dad played by Robert DeNiro in This Boy's Life- was also a Scout Leader. He knew a thing or two about Scouting.

My Left Foot

I didn't run this morning. I got up to run, but my left big toe was hurting. I dropped a couch on it when I was moving stuff around in the Manor this weekend. I'm pretty sure it's broken, but I'm also quite sure I'm not going to seek any treatment for it. Through years of football, I've broken a number of digits, of both the metacarpal and metatarsal variety. Dad and my coaches were of one voice in the matter: "Tape it up and it'll be fine. Nothing they can do about it anyway".

A few weeks ago, Twin Tyler was complaining about his big toe. He'd come back from his momma's house with the instructions that I take him to the emergency room (I'm pretty sure they have an emergency room in Beaufort's hospital, but whatever). His teacher had also suggested that I take him for medical care. I did. We waited for an hour or so at Colleton Regional. "What happened, child?", the ER doc asked. "I think I broke my toe at recess last week". "Let's get an X-ray", said the doc. X-ray, they did. "See here?", says the doc. "Right here", as he pointed to the film. "Yep. It's fractured all right". I didn't doubt it. "So, what do we do about it?", I inquired. "Oh, just tape it up. There's really not much we can do about it".

Oh, and here's your bill.

You Got to Stand For Something.

I love to read. I don't get to do as much of it as I'd like, but I do love it. Though I have a disdain for fundamentalists of any stripe (folks who can't change their minds and won't change the subject), I love my faith (such as it is), and my Church (such as it is). I also like exploring different points of view, to the extent I am able. That mishmash of competing instincts led me to Christopher Hitchens' anti-religion diatribe "God is Not Great".



He trots out a variety of arguments for the proposition that "religion poisons everything" from Islamic and Christian Holy Wars to ad hominem attacks on defenders of religion (calling C.S. Lewis "dreary and absurd". I love Lewis. Read "The Screwtape Letters", if you get the chance). Some of his arguments- for example: that the rituals and particulars of religions, and the writings of those religions are composed by fallible people and not by any deity- have traction; some of them- for example: that Christians' failure to stand up to German fascism was somehow the same thing as killing millions of Jews- do not. He trashes the teachings of Jesus as derivative and the Ten Commandments as more conducive to creating "sin" than effectively helping people. He says that we need a new Enlightenment emphasizing, as many have done for at least hundreds of years, that the proper study for humans is humanity.

While he quotes liberally from both the Pentateuch and the New Testament, Hitchens seems to miss the point: Religions, at least the ones I understand best, are all about relationships between people. You wanna love God? Love his people and treat them the way you want to be treated. The Golden Rule is in both Leviticus (not my favorite chapter, but I liked this verse, anyway) and Matthew (Matthew's account here is very active and specific). Hitchens is a clever fellow, and an atheist since his childhood, but by adopting an "anti" philosophy he's painted himself in a corner. He admits that the pervasiveness of religion strikes at some basic need humans have (citing Freud's "Future of an Illusion"), and his own struggle to find truth included embracing- then rejecting- Marxism. He takes glee in his attempt to knock down religious faith, but he offers no answers other than the "Care-Bear" weight argument lifted from Animal House's Faber College that "Knowledge is Good". Come to think of it, Hitchens isn't that different from his early hero: Karl Marx did a pretty good job trashing capitalism, but in the end, he offered no plausible alternative to it. History judged Marx wrong; I can't imagine Hitchens will do much better.

I'm Your Handy Man, Redux

Fixing stuff and putting stuff together is not in my DNA. What I fear my kids have learned from late night Christmas Eves sneaking a look at Santa Claus putting together Christmas toys is that Santa is unafraid to use the Lord's name in vain- especially on his birthday. Still, the household resident arrangements appear to be changing (the Lads are moving out, and their older sister is moving in), so the household configuration has got to be changed. Caroline'll get the Twins' room; I'll have to create another bedroom, since the house only came with two. Space is at a premium, so a loft for a twin bed and a futon for multi-use underneath in a little alcove off the big room seems to be the answer. Problem is, nobody sells this stuff delivered and put together anymore (well, not at a price I'm willing to pay, anyhow). So, how did I spend my Fourth?

What is all this crap?

This an "N" or a "Z"? List of parts doesn't have either, though they do refer to in later in the instructions.

Looks like I'm building a car or sumpin'.

Well, looky there! Success. Doesn't look too bad, and it seems my gamble that the futon would fit under the twin bed paid off.

Now I just gotta deal with this.

MJ Smackdown: Billie Jean

John nominated Billie Jean. Hard to argue against his statement that it is one of the best pop songs of all time (well, Chase would...). MJ's appearance on the Motown Special was also probably one of television's greatest moments. I remember asking, with most of America, "How'd he do that?" when MJ unveiled the Moonwalk about 3.50 into the song.

Rats! (and MJ Smackdown, II)

Caroline's rats, Reepacheep and Steve, would like to introduce Beth's suggestion, Ben.

Michael Jackson Smackdown: Wanna Be Startin' Something.

Okay, now where were we? Oh, yeah: Michael Jackson smackdown. Already got a couple of suggestions, and I'll post them, but I'm trying to go one at a time. My daughter, Caroline, has come to stay for awhile, and has brought a menagerie of pets, including a kitten, pictured at left, which she found by the side of the road. Vampire kitten brings the attitude, which is, I'm hoping, consistent with today's selection, Gonna Be Startin' Something, from Off the Wall.