October 2005 Archives

This weekend we had a Halloween party. One of the little touches was a cauldron of simmering witches brew, complete with dry ice.

I got the dry ice at a local market that stocks it for Halloween. The block was too big to fit in the cauldron so I stuck half of it back into the freezer for tonight.

Katy went to get it out but found nothing but an empty bag. Whoops! Carbon dioxide sublimates when it's warmer than -109.3 degrees Fahrenheit - and my freezer definitely qualifies.

So, be sure to buy dry ice the day you're going to use it - and use it the day you buy it.

I've been getting a little behind on the pictures. So while I wait for trick-or-treaters I will attempt to catch up.

The kids started school in mid-August. Here are the traditional first day of school shots:

That is one cute first grader.

Note Cameron's shoes. His grandmommy gave him some cash to spend for back-to-school and that's what he decided he wanted. I'm so proud.

We did go to the beach a few times this summer. Here's Claire with her boogie board.

Here are the kids at the local pumpkin patch earlier this month.

The kids had a week off in October for fall break and so we went up to Yosemite. The fall is a great time of year to visit. The weather was really nice and the crowds were not too bad. One day we hiked up to Mirror Lake - dry this time of year - below Half Dome.

The kids sitting on a bridge over the Merced River.

And here they are at Glacier Point, with Half Dome in the background.

And now, the pictures you've been waiting for: Halloween costumes!

Claire dressed up as Obi-Wan Kenobi this year, and Cameron is a clone trooper. As you can see from the orange shoulder armor, Cameron was not dressed as any old clone - no, he's clone 2224, aka Commander Cody, Obi-Wan's most trusted clone soldier. It's amazing what you can do with a safety cone, a pair of cutters, and some orange thread.

Katy told me something troubling about Cameron yesterday.

The three of them - Katy, Cam, and Claire - were playing Monopoly. Cameron bankrupted Claire due to some well-placed real estate investments.

AND THEN HE GAVE HER SOME MONEY! Not loaned, GAVE! As in, Here, Have Some Cash.

What? There's no Charity in Monopoly! In my book, Monopoly is a Show No Mercy, Neither Give Nor Ask For Any Quarter kind of game. Katy won't play it with me any more - apparently I'm "too cut-throat." (Come on, it's a game about Capitalism, with a Big C. You're supposed to play it that way.) Give away money? To another player? Never!

We're going to have to have a little father-son talk about this one.

I have an exceptionally low threshold of humor. Warning signs often crack me up.

Here are three I saw on my recent business trip:

This one was on a rung of a ladder in the broadcast area of the Eiffel Tower. You are obliged to climb this ladder.

If you enter this room, you will have to do the limbo while Zeus hurls lightning bolts at your throat.

No Holding Daddy's Hand. I guess the French want their little girls to grow up independent.

While I was in Europe last month, I had one day to look around Paris.

Sadly, I was pretty wiped out from the combination of an unhappy gastrointestinal tract and many late nights, and so I didn't get out of my hotel room until about 2 in the afternoon.

My first stop was at a Starbucks I had spotted around the corner. I felt a little bad doing it - I wouldn't even consider eating at McDonald's in Paris - but I needed a Big Damn Cup of Coffee. The coffee in Europe was just fine - strong and dark, just like I like it - but the cups are eeety beeety.

My second stop was the chapel of St. Chappelle. This Gothic chapel dates to the 13th century and has amazing stained glass windows. My crummy pictures do not do it justice. When you are in Paris - and I'm sure you'll get there some day - don't skip it just because it's smaller than Notre Dame. In some ways I found it more spectacular.

The stained glass panels each tell the story of a book of the Bible. The large rose window at the back of the chapel is supposed to be the Book of Revelation. I stood there for about ten minutes trying to find a horseman but couldn't find one - I guess I'll take their word for it.

I left St. Chappelle and went strolling off towards Notre Dame. I walked around a corner and suddenly it was there. I managed to not say "Holy Crap, that's Notre Dame!" but again, I was thinking it pretty loud.

All of the pictures I remember seeing showed it with a grimy facade, but clearly there has been some restoration work done. It looks fabulous, inside and out. I was struck at how big it is inside. It is huge. I bet it was pretty effective at cowing the peasants who came to mass back in the day.

I paid my euros to go up to the top of the south tower and took this panorama from the front of the cathedral, facing Paris.

There are lots of great gargoyles on the towers. This was my favorite:

After that I found a cafe and ordered a beer and a sandwich from a medium-surly French waiter. He couldn't have possibly been rude enough to bother me - I was tooling around Paris, and somebody else had paid to send me there!

I was going to go for the Catholic Trifecta and head up to Sacre Coeur, but I didn't feel like going up there after dark by myself. I am a cautious individual, after all.

Wow.

Boy did my Halos stink it up in the ALCS. Yes, there were some bad calls from the umpiring crew, but it doesn't matter how many bad calls there are when the 3-4-5 hitters go 5 for 54 in the series (that's .093, folks).

When I look at the stats, it's a miracle they won one game.

Wait 'til next year!

Game five of the ALDS was darn exciting. A little too exciting for this Angels fan. I didn't think to put my heart rate monitor on until after the game so I can't give you the exact figure but I'd say the old ticker was running along pretty fast in the ninth inning tonight.

There were a couple quotes in the postgame interviews that caught my attention. The first was Ervin Santana, the Angels rookie who came in to relieve Angels starter Bartolo Colon early in the game. He was was asked if he was nervous, and he replied:

"I don't have to be nervous. It's a baseball game."

This really cracked me up. I don't know if he was being cocky or what but he has a good sense of perspective.

The second quote is from Yankees manager Joe Torre and is a little different perspective. I am no Yankee fan but I really like Joe Torre - he strikes me as a classy guy and a great competitor. This is from his post-game comments to the media:

"I don't remember being this disappointed, because I wanted this very badly - I guess that's why you're in the game. It's tough. It's tough - the emotions of the game and the reason you play it, I think were evident in this series. You just want to win badly, like a bunch of little boys out there playing a game - and when you have to go home, it's tough to take."

I know what kind of intensity my little boy (and the little boy in me, for that matter) brings to things he wants to do well at, so I have a pretty good idea what he means by that. I'd say I was sorry for him but that would be disingenuous. But I will say that I know where he's coming from. Good series, Joe.

(Do you think Steinbrenner is going to freak out or what? I guess $200 million doesn't buy what it used to...)

Last week I noticed (with the help of some kind strangers) that my driver's side rear tire was wobbling. I checked the lug nuts and found a couple of them to be fairly loose, so I snugged them all up. This helped but it was still wobbling a bit.

The next morning I took it to a local tire shop to see what was up. I wasn't sure if it was a balancing problem, or a bad bearing, or what. That afternoon I got a call from the shop telling me that my axle was bent.

What?

I was told it was a $700-$800 repair. I told them not to do it just yet, and to please lock the key in it so I could pick it up later.

On the drive home I noticed that the wheel was no longer wobbling.

Katy took it to our normal mechanic for a second opinion the next morning. The axle is not bent. The wheel is spinning true. The tire wear is a little funny because of the wobble, but it doesn't need replacing.

I'm not quite ready to call Shop Number One crooks, but I will say their troubleshooting and analysis skills stink.

Bats That Flutter
by Cameron

Bats, bats
frighten the moths
in the gloomy sky
The pumpkins go dark
The ghosts wail
Ooooooooooo!

Today I quit.

Since late May I've been training for the Long Beach Marathon, which is in two weeks. I won't be running it. Last weekend my knee started bothering me in the middle of a ten-mile run - and when I finished I could barely walk.

I did some research and it seems I have Illiotibial Band Syndrome. If you don't feel like following the link, basically my right knee feels like somebody is hitting it with a hammer if I run more than a couple miles. When I'm running downhill, they switch over to an axe. It hurts.

I bought a brace to try to mitigate the symptoms and gingerly did my training runs this week. Today I needed to do my final Big Run - 20 miles - to prep for the marathon.

I ran about eleven.

At ten miles or so - the last seven or so accompanied by my friend with the hammer - I had a little conversation with myself. It went something like this:

Me: I think I should stop. My knee hurts like a mother.
Me: No, it's not that bad. It will get better. Keep going. You can do this.
Me: Do you really think it will get better?
Me: Yes! Sure! No problem.
Me: Well, okay.

So, on we went. After another mile or so, we continued:

Me: It's not feeling better.
Me: But it's not worse!
Me: Do you remember how bad it hurt after we stopped to fill the water bottle?
Me: Isn't it nice out today?
Me: Answer the question.
Me: (it hurt)
Me: Damn it. We're stopping.
Me: (okay)
Me: It damn well is NOT okay. It sucks enormous donkey dicks. I'm tired of making the fucking Grownup Decision.

The language got worse from there.

And so I shut it down and walked home. I know I am doing the right thing, for several reasons, but that doesn't make me any happier. Frankly, I'm livid. I know that eventually that hot slug of anger will boil down to a healthy dose of resolve, but it's going to be a while.