The Death of Malathionman

In the movie “Bleak Future”, Malathionman meets his demise in a gruesome manner. If you have watched the trailer posted in the sidebar of this site, I get in a fight with the dude in the kilt. Kilt dude is mute because I cut out his tongue, so he doesn’t like me very much. I was pretty much kicking his butt, but then I got cocky and taunted him with his tongue that I had been carrying around in a jar for God knows how long. As I began to eat his tongue, I choked on it (Which is kind of funny because I actually did choke on it while filming that shot, and it tasted nasty!) and Kilt dude is able puncture my malathion tanks, giving me a bath in my own malathion juice, causing me told melt before a horrified audience.

Wear Gloves and Protective Eyewear will not meet such a slimy ending. I am just quietly shutting it down and putting away the Malathionman mask for good.

When I started a blog on MSN Spaces a couple of years ago it was just supposed to be a way to keep in touch my fantasy baseball buddies. I needed a screen name and I had all this Malathionman stuff so I thought it would be fun to use it in the blog. And it was, but the blog that I had created for my baseball buddies had became the blog for the friends I had made on-line.

As I got more interested in blogging I moved from MSN Spaces to Blogger, and started Wear Gloves and Protective Eyewear. I like this blog, but I have had this feeling for a while now that it had no real identity, other than the Malathionman, a character that most people don’t get unless they take the time to get to know me. As open and as honest as I am on my blog, I think it is hard to get past that scary looking dude in the comment section.

In case you were wondering, I am not quitting blogging. In fact, I’m going to try and step up my blogging game, but not as Malathionman. The new site will be similar to this one and the mask will be gone. I noticed that one of my friends had me listed as a daddy blogger. A couple of years ago I might have shunned that label, but I have realized that I am a better writer when I’m writing about my kids, so why fight it I’m a daddy blogger.

So, I have a web host and a domain and will be opening my new site soon. I will be going from a Blogger page to a Wordpress page. I probably should have used a free Wordpress theme to start, but I bought one that I liked and I am still trying to figure out how to customize the page. I have very little ‘code” experience. I’m sure I’ll figure it out and have things up and running soon.

I am going to leave this email for those of you who want to know my new address. anchorice26@yahoo.com Although I don’t think I said anything too crazy here; it has come to my attention that some people read this blog that I didn’t know about. And no, Jackie isn't one of them! So I would like to start the new site with more of a clean slate. I will continue to visit the sites that I usually visit and I’m sure you will figure out who I am.

Until then, you may want to try this new blog out. She is a much better writer than I am, but very new to the blogging world. Stop by and say hello.

P.S. We have a date and Sarah is coming home. I'll share details on the new site. Or you can check out the new blog linked above. :)

Thanks Dad

Do you have a stepparent, blood relative, or in-law that drives you and the rest of the family nuts?

I do, it is my stepmother, Jackie.

For years she would complain behind my father’s back, to his family, about what a jerk he was. When she tried to gripe to me about him I let her have it, “ You are preaching to the choir lady. I grew up with him. I know what he can be like. You should be having this conversation with him, not his son.”

Here is another example of Jackie’s lack of common sense.

Over the last couple of years it has become obvious to my wife and I that Jackie doesn’t care for my youngest, Alissa. But she adores my son Austin. Today she invited him to go fishing and spend the night at her house, without Alissa. Later, Alissa asked me why grandma Jackie likes Austin better than her. Nice going grandma.

After my father passed away, my sister threatened to kick her ass if she ever saw her again. I didn’t believe my stepmother when she told me that, but then she showed me the letter that my sister had sent.

My family makes great blogging material.

Not long before my father’s death he asked me to do one thing for him. I don’t know how I knew what he was going to say, but I did, and thought to myself, “Please don’t ask me, please don’t ask me,” but then he did, “Please take care of Jackie when I’m gone.” Heavy sigh, “Sure dad, I’ll do that for you.” “Thanks Tommy, I didn’t think I could ask your sister to do that.”

If he only knew, if he only knew.

I Put My Pants On Today

I know this may sound weird, but it has been 6 months since I have worn a pair of pants.

Today was opening day at the golf course that I work at. Pants are required from opening day until Easter, after that we can wear shorts.

It always feels strange when I start wearing them again.

I just thought I would share.

Let the rude comments begin.

The 6th Letter of the Alphabet List

Peas and carrots, peanut butter and chocolate, Malathionman and Death Chick, some things just go together. D.C. is a great blogger and when you die she would be glad do your make up before they display your corpse to curious friends and family.

Sometimes the Death Chick gets a little excited abouts things and rants a bit. She accidentally (yeah right) started a meme called the F-List. I'm not sure my F-List was what she was looking for, but she linked me anyways.

Sign of the Times

My kids had a fun Halloween.

I walked my daughter around the neighborhood with her best friend and her father. When Alissa was done she took over the task of handing out the candy, something I think she enjoys just as much as receiving it.

My son is old enough now that he was able to go out on his own with his best friend. It is no longer cool to hang out with dad or the little sister.

We have lived in this neighborhood for about 6 years. It is a nice neighborhood, people would drive to our neighborhood to amass Halloween candy, but I have seen a change the last couple of years that makes me a little sad.

I bet two years ago 80% of the houses in my neighborhood participated in Halloween festivities. This year I would guess closer to 30% bothered to participate. That was still enough candy to keep our dentist in business, but nothing like it used to be.

The streets were just dark. People were not at home, at home but not handing out candy, or the house was bank owned. And there was a lot of the latter.

Are times that tough that you can’t afford to buy candy for Halloween? Maybe. The vacant homes, now looking more like haunted houses, might support that statement.

It’s depressing to think about what my house is worth now compared to a few years ago. I’m not even going to ask. We don’t have plans to move anyways...

So, what kind of candy have you been stealing from your kids this weekend? Anything with the word Reese’s has mysteriously disappeared from my kid’s bags.

Aww Shucks

About 5 years ago I was finishing up the general education credits for my Turf Management degree.

Physical education was part of those GE requirements. I would need to take 2 PE classes. Each class was only 8 weeks, half a semester.

The first class I took was tennis. This would be easy for me. I was the team captain on my tennis team in high school and I played in many competitive events when I was in my twenties.

The class instructor’s name was Wendy. Wendy was more of a personal trainer than a tennis instructor, but it was a beginner class and she had done this enough times that she was able pull it off. After a couple of days she could tell this class would not be very challenging for me. I ended up helping her teach the class. She would often pick my brain for new things to do in class and then we would try them out.

One day we were talking before class,” Hey Tom, do you need to take another PE class?”
“Yeah I was thinking about golf.”
“That’s probably some other sport you already know how to play. Why don’t you be a man and take my yoga class?”
“I don’t know....”
“It is the same time as this tennis class, starting right after these 8 weeks are over. It is always full but I’ll add you anyways.”
“Yoga...”
“Come on, come to a class that I really know something about.”
“Do very many guys...”
“Hardly any guys take this class. Just good-looking women. You should love it.”
“Well...”
“Don’t be a WUSS. Are you afraid you can’t keep up with a bunch of girls?”
She finally pushed the right button.
“OK, I’m in.”
“You won’t be sorry.”

The 8 weeks following the tennis class were “challenging”. Wendy was a genuine yoga instructor. I think she was teaching a power style of yoga. You had to be flexible, but most of the poses required a lot of balance and strength. She pretty much kicked my butt for 8 weeks, and I showed up everyday for it. And I wasn’t about to complain.

About 2 weeks into the class Wendy made an announcement. She was pregnant.
This would be her third child. She said that she would still be able to teach the class, but that she might have to tone it down a bit. I’m thinking this was my lucky day. Two poses later she was standing on one leg and had the other leg behind her head.

Yoga turned out to be one of my favorite classes, and not just because Wendy didn’t lie about the good-looking women.

The last class I took in college was a nutrition class taught by Wendy. She was well into her pregnancy. I didn’t she would be there at the end of the class. She almost made it. She missed the last day, finals, to have her baby.

I never got the chance to see her again after I graduated. Until...

... Last weekend when the Pink Puppies played the Blue Angels! Wendy’s oldest was playing for the other team. I was sure that was Wendy on the other sideline. She came over after the game with her family to say hello. She laughed and told me she knew I was a coach the moment she met me, and that she had a great time just watching me with the Pink Puppies.

I noticed that her youngest was a little boy and asked, “ Is that the guy who made you miss my last day of school?”
“Why yes it is!” she smiled.
“And what’s his name?”
“Tommy.”
“Really?”
“What can I say, I’ve always liked guys named Tom.”

Raise That Bar

Before the start of my soon to be legendary girls soccer coaching career, the league made all the coaches take a class on coaching soccer to eight year olds.

The instructor was some guy from England who took his soccer very serious. He was about my age but in much better shape. It looked like he still played.

He shared with us about how he has been to Wembley Stadium to see many great football matches. The San Diego Chargers and the New Orleans Saints will be playing a “real” football game there on the 26th.

I thought he did a great job. I took a lot away from his class.

One thing bothered me though, his expectations for this age group. I thought they were very low. He didn’t think kids this age should bother with the goalkeeper and that if the kids could just dribble the ball and change direction every once in a while the season was a success.

This year the kids are using a goalie. The field they use is much bigger and most penalties will be called except for offsides. They are playing a game with a referee, but nobody is supposed to keep score. Yeah right! Those girls know exactly what the score is.

Last year Alissa played flag football with the boys. I just realized that I never posted anything about that, what a lousy daddy/evil mutant blogger I am. Her coach (coach Weed, that cracks me up) had high expectations for his team. Coach Weed had "high" expectations, I'm killin myself here. He had a playbook that he expected the kids to know, by the end of the season, they did. He didn’t coddle the kids either, he wasn’t psycho football coach, but he was firm and the kids listened when he spoke. And they were a year younger than my Pink Puppies.

So I have taken that into my first season of coaching these little girls too.

I think the Pups are the best-prepared team out there. They know what to do when it is a goal kick, corner kick, or throw in. Our goalkeepers are aggressive and do a good job kicking or throwing the ball back down the field.

Their skills are improving too. They can already dribble and change direction. I’m working on getting them to pass the ball and use their left foot.

The main thing is that the girls have fun, and I think part of having fun is being successful. The Pink Puppies are having fun, and so am I.

Lets Be Honest

Someone I consider a good friend revealed to her readers that she was a birth mom. Being an adoptive parent, I can not begin to express the kind of heart I think she has for doing one of the toughest things a woman can do, give a child up for adoption. The reason she shared this information was because the child she gave up for adoption has found her. If you click on the link you will read that mother and child are doing great.

The conditions of my adoption were different. The birth mother of my children did not voluntarily give her kids up. They were taken from her. Despite that lousy situation, I’m pretty sure my kids will be looking up their birth parents.

I’ll be honest, that bothers me. And I’ll be even more honest, it bothers me for a very selfish reason, I don’t want to share. I understand an adoptive child’s curiosity about their birth parents, but it will still hurt when Sarah, Austin or Alissa decide to look them up.

But I shouldn’t be so insecure. The birth parents of my kids are not very appealing. Both dads are in jail and mom is a drug addict.

Hopefully ALL the family involved in the above reunion are better equipped to handle the situation than I will be. I wish them all the very best.

Why I Sometimes Feel Old

It has been a very long week. I have just worked an 11-hour day and I have to rush in grab Alissa and go to soccer practice.

Austin is eager to talk to me about something, “Dad, can I tell you about my homework!” “Dude, tell me in 90 minutes,” I said as I walked out the door.

90 minutes later, to the second, I walk through the front door, prepared for excited greetings from dogs and son. The poor dogs had to wait their turn as Austin leapt from the couch with a report in his hand.

It is times like this that I have to take a deep breath and compose myself. My first thought is, “Take a chill pill Austin! I’ve had a long day and just want to veg-out for the rest of the night.” But I know he is just happy dad is home and he wants to share his day with me. He is not much different than the dogs, and I think that’s a good thing. I really love my dogs.

“Dad we did a report on Iraq today!”
“Oh yeah, did you talk about the war?”
“You knew about the war?”
“I heard about it.”
“It started March 20th, 2003”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Did you know that Iraq used to be a place called Mesopotamia?”
“Yes, I did.” Really, I did.
“Oh, is that because it was Mesopotamia when you were a kid?”
Pause
Sigh
Cracks open a beer.
“Yes, Iraq was Mesopotamia when I was a kid.”

Malathionman's Horror Holiday Picks

I don’t know why I never did this before, post Malathionman’s Halloween Movie picks! Who better to know about horror than the evil mutant Malathionman?

When I sat down to think about my recommendations it occurred to me that I could categorize this list in many ways. Vampires (Bram Stoker’s Dracula), werewolves (Dog Soldiers), and chick flicks (Steel Magnolias) are types of horror movies.

I tried to be less specific.

FOREIGN.
You may have noticed that I have recommended some foreign movies on the sidebar. I like foreign movies. If I can watch an entire movie in subtitles and enjoy it, it has to be a darn good movie. I do not watch the dubbed versions. Here three of my selections.

Ringu (Japan). Ringu was remade in the U.S. as The Ring, which wasn’t a bad movie. Ringu was a little darker, a little creepier, and no blood, just a good scary movie. It is a little dated with that whole videotape thing. Subtitles.

The Orphanage (Spain). This is probably still a new release in most of your video stores. 30 years later, a woman comes back to the orphanage that she once lived at as a young girl. With her husband and adopted son, she wants to run her own orphanage for special needs children. Like Ringu, this movie has no blood; it’s just a really good ghost story. Subtitles.

Dead Alive (New Zealand). Before there was Lord of the Rings, there was Dead Alive. I think this was Peter Jackson’s second feature film. The blood and guts that are missing in the above movies are in this one, 10 fold. This zombie comedy is one of my favorites. One of my favorite scenes is when the zombies come knocking at the church’s door. The local priest answers and decides to take the Lord’s work into his own hands and feet. He then proceeds to kung fu on hordes of zombies exclaiming, “ I kick-ass for the Lord!”
No subtitles, English.

COMEDY/HORROR
This is my preferred “Halloween” type movie. Dead Alive definitely falls into this category, but it fit nicely into that foreign film slot. I think horror is better if there is some comedy mixed in to take the edge off; it also makes the comedy funnier, even it isn’t that funny.

Evil Dead 2. This is actually a remake of Evil Dead. Evil Dead wasn’t a bad movie, it was just more of a traditional horror movie. Director Sam Raimi remade Evil Dead with laughs in mind. It has lots of blood and gore, and that famous flying eyeball scene. It also has Bruce Campbell; he appears in many of Rami’s films, very funny guy. Check it out; it makes many must see lists for this genre.

Re-Animator. This is not a movie for everyone, but if you like Dead Alive or Evil Dead 2, you’ll probably like this too. It’s just your typical mad scientist movie. Geeky guy discovers a way to bring dead things back to life. Decapitated and reanimated evil doctor’s body walks around carrying his own head so he can kiss the girl he likes. Great
stuff.

American Werewolf in London. This movie has genuine scares and laughs. The hospital dream sequence scared the you know what out of me. This movie won an Oscar for make up effects. Still one of the best werewolf transformation scenes and baddest looking werewolves to date.

REASONABLY KID SAFE
I tried most of those movies above on my kids and I can safely say yours won’t like them. Here are some movies that most elementary age kids won’t get too freaked out by watching.

Ghostbusters. Classic 80’s movie period.

The Monster Squad. A boys club team up with Frankenstein to battle Dracula, Wolfman, the Mummy, and Gill-Man.

Gremlins. More 80’s more fun. I think monster movies were friendlier in the 80’s. Everything today seems to be pretty shocking.


Unfortunately Bleak Future doesn’t make my list recommendations, but you can rent it! I am a member of Blockbuster Online. While looking for something to rent I was shocked to come across Bleak Future. I am even listed in the cast. So if you are feeling brave, check it out and see the Malathionman in action.

Feel free to throw any of your Halloween favorites my way. Chances are I've seen it and have an opinion on it.

Pink Puppy Training

Coaching my daughter’s soccer team has been ... different. Any coaching I have done in the past has not been for little girls. I would have used the term “little girl” to motivate teams that I have coached in the past.

Coaching girls is different, but my toughest problem has nothing to do with gender. Amanda and Dorian, the identical twin sisters are my biggest challenge. It is bad enough telling them apart, but these girls are wild animals. Any lapse in action during practice results in hair pulling, cartwheels, or somersaults.

I played soccer in elementary school and all the through high school. I know how to play the game. I also know talent, and these girls are pretty good.

I enjoy coaching, and I really enjoy coaching players.

Besides Alissa, my favorite player is a little girl named Malia. She is the smallest player on the team, but she has big game. It’s not that she has the most talent; she just plays harder than anyone else. Its like she is playing with a chip on her shoulder, trying to make up for her size.

This may sound bad but I do have a least favorite player. I won’t say her name but this sweetheart really pushes my buttons. This pink puppy likes to correct me. I don’t know many adults that like to be corrected by an eight year old.

“Amanda, I want you to take the corner kick.”
“Excuse me coach but that’s Dorian.”
“Is that right Amanda? Are you Dorian?”
Giggle, giggle, giggle, “Yes.”
“Told you.”
“You sure did. Why don’t you go take a lap.”

Longest Month of the Year

The longest month of the year for me is October.

It is the month my golf course closes for over seeding.

What we basically do is dry up all the warm season grass and scalp it to the ground. It is a very dusty job. A lot residents leave town because the grass in the air is too much to handle. I just stock up on allergy medicine and try to stay awake while I’m operating heavy equipment.

We will hopefully have the scalping done in one week. We work dawn till dusk until it is.

Next we reseed the course with about 110,000 lbs. of cool season grass. Another 3 days, dawn til dusk.

That leaves 20 days of worrying about if that seed is going to grow. Waiting for that first sign of life can seem like an eternity. Like waiting for water to boil.

Like waiting for me to post

If They Can Get Batman Right...

I made a cd for my daughter a couple of months ago.

While I was looking for songs, I thought it would be fun to look them up on YouTube. I wanted to see what, or if any videos had been made for these great songs.

What I found was pathetic. Now that I think about it, most of the early MTV videos are dismal too.

I think the world of music videos should do like the world of movies, remakes! There are so many “older” songs that tell wonderful stories; they would make super music videos. Or maybe a music video was made and it just didn’t do the song justice, remake it.

One of the music video stations that still play music could easily make a weekly show out of this idea. Maybe they already have and I’m just out of touch, its not like I’ve watched MTV or VH1 or whatever in the last decade.

Here are four songs I found on YouTube.

A Boy Named Sue- Johnny Cash
Long Tall Glasses- Leo Sayer
Space Oddity- David Bowie
I Don’t Like Mondays- The Boomtown Rats

I really like all four songs but don’t like the video on them. These could be great music videos if done right.

Anybody else have an old favorite (music video) they would like to see made or remade?

The Wrath of Mrs. Khan

I was whining about my daughter’s class last week.

The school has started sending the second graders in Mrs. Valasek’s class to a second grade math class. The teacher’s name is Mrs. Khan.

Mrs. Khan has a little problem with germs. On Alissa’s first day in her class she sent her home for coughing in class. She told Alissa that she didn’t want to catch her cold. I think she may have been joking, but Alissa didn’t understand and thought she was mad at her.

So she spent the rest of her school day at work with me, not a cough all day.

The principle of my daughter’s school called us yesterday. He said he had an opening for her in a second grade class if we wanted it. “Why do you say it like that?” I asked. “Its Mrs. Khan’s class,” he replied. “She is a little ...ridged.”

As you may know, we are trying to get Alissa into a different class. But this seemed a little weird. It sounded like the principle wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

We asked the school counselor what she thought about the move. We gave her the low down on Alissa and that we thought she might need a teacher with a little softer touch. She agreed, and we will just continue to wait for a different class to open up.

Feel free to ad-lib a Star Trek 2 line except it is Mrs. Khan instead of (Ricardo Montalban) Khan.

For example- “Math is a dish best served cold.”

The 100 Million Dollar Question

I was eating lunch with a couple of guys from work. Midway through my Cobb salad one guy says to the other, “Let’s ask Tom.” These are guys are stereo-typical so I’m thinking, “Here it comes, Ginger or Mary Ann, fake ones or real ones, tan lines or not.”

“Tom, if you won 100 million dollars in the lottery, would you stay with your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Dude, you didn’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t have to.”
“Did you have to think about it?”
“If she bought the ticket, heck yeah I’d stay with her!”
“Wow, you would have to think about it?”
“I have asked about 10 guys the same question and you are the only guy who answered yes without hesitation, and only one other guy answered yes.”
“Does that make me weird?”
“Absolutely.”
“Blow me.”

It was really disappointing to hear that from one of my friends; not that I was weird, but that he would hesitate when asked that question. I’m not even sure he answered yes.

I really can’t imagine what my life would be like with out my wife in it. I guess I was lucky to find the right person at such a young age. I remember seeing her for the first time when she was sixteen; she looked like she was 20. I thought to myself, “I’m going to marry a girl just like her.” I married her 3 years later and today is our 23rd anniversary. I think I’ll give her a card with a lottery ticket in it and hope that she won’t have any tough decisions to make.

Suckaaaa!!!

“Is this Alissa’a Father?”
“Yes.”
“Hi this is Rick from Alissa’s soccer league!”
“Cool. When is practice?”
“Well, I’m not her coach, I’m the commissioner of the league.”
“Oh?”
“We can’t find a coach for Alissa’s team.”
“And because people often confuse me for David Beckham you think I know how to coach soccer?”
“Exactly!”

It is true that Rick couldn’t find a coach, but turkey balls actually said, “ I thought maybe because you were older than the other dads you could better manipulate your work schedule.” “Thanks Rick, let me turn up my hearing aid I didn’t catch the last part.”

I got the call 2 nights ago. First practice is tomorrow night. First game is a week from Saturday.

Right now we are team number 48, any ideas for a team name? I bet someone can guess what a bunch of 7 and 8 year old girls are going to name their team.

As Good As It Gets

It is a school night and I am lying next to my youngest Alissa. It is tough getting her to go to sleep. One thing that seems to work is when I stay with her until she falls asleep, half the time I fall asleep before she does.

Tonight was tougher than usual; unfortunately these nights seem to be turning into the norm. Alissa’s mood swings are extreme, yelling, screaming, and crying one minute, laughing and singing the next. It is almost impossible to control her when she is on the wrong side of that pendulum.

I have come to the realization that she has bi-polar disorder and possibly reactive attachment disorder too.

How do I know this? From experience. In addition to the bi-polar and reactive attachment disorders, my oldest has also been diagnosed as a sociopath with a borderline personality. Combine that with a lifetime of neglect and abuse from her birthparents and you have one really messed up teenager.

When we adopted the kids we knew we would have problems with the oldest, we just didn’t know it would be this bad. The therapist we were seeing asked us if we had to take Sarah. (This was an option the county made available to us.) I will admit that it has been hard to bond with Sarah, but there was no way we were going to tell her, “We don’t want you, just your little brother and sister.”

So we tried our best to keep these three kids together. Unfortunately, we ended up putting Sarah in a residential treatment school when we couldn’t control her any more.

Sarah is 16 now (17 in January) and she has been gone for 2 years. We keep in touch with weekly phone calls and visits to the school periodically, but we can feel her becoming more distant. She still says that she wants to come home, but the thought of her coming back is frightening; it was that bad before we sent her away.

Is she better? Yes.

Will she be able to handle a public school? No.

Will she ever let us be the parent? Doubtful.

Is it time to bring her home because it probably isn’t going to get any better? Possibly.

Does that scare me shitless? Definitely.

That being said, we don’t want her to turn 18 in this school and then tell her she is on her own. She was dealt a crappy hand and deserves better from the family that she has always wanted, but doesn’t know how to live with. And to be fair, we didn’t know how to live with her either.

We hoped that Alissa, being the youngest (6 months old when we got her), would be less maintenance; this is beginning to look like wishful thinking. We thought most of Sarah’s problems were a result of the years of drug, physical, and sexual abuse from her biological mother. It now looks more like personality disorders passed on by her biological mother and father.

My kids have the same biological mother. Sarah and Alissa have the same biological father. Austin has a different biological father. Austin does not appear to have any of the personality disorders that the girls do; I guess there is something about that combination of DNA between Sarah and Alissa’s biological parents. We only have three of birthmother’s 6 children. Of the remaining 3, one was born retarded and given to the county because she couldn’t care for it. This was also a child from Sarah and Alissa’s father. Another child lives with his birthfather (father #3). And her newest addition (father #4) was born after Sarah, Austin, and Alissa were taken away from her. The county has let her keep this baby.

It is fair to say that I have bonded the most with my youngest Alissa. If you have read my blog with any kind of regularity you probably already know that. It tears me up inside when I see her in a rage that she can’t control. I try to stay calm because I love her and I understand that she can’t help it. I have not been as understanding or fair towards Sarah. It is for this reason that I am probably more willing to let Sarah come home, even when the chances of a happy ending are slim. Sarah knows Alissa is my little girl; I want to at least give her another chance to just be my daughter.

Alissa and I were driving around town the other day. While we were stopped at a signal I turned to look at her. She had her headphones on and was singing some Hannah Montana song. She smiled at me and continued to sing. I thought to myself, “I love this little girl so much, I’m going to write her a poem.” I don’t know where the hell that came from but that thought really popped into my head. Did Sarah ever have a parent feel that way about her? Did she ever have a parent look at her and melt inside like I do when I see Alissa run home to see me after school?

When Sarah does come home I will try to look at her with a different pair of eyes.




















Green eyes, red hair
Tiny freckles everywhere
Green eyes, red hair
Born with attitude to spare

Green eyes, red hair
Clean your room and make the bed
Green eyes, red hair
I'll probably cry the day you wed

Green eyes, red hair
I love the girl that drives me mad
Green eyes, red hair
I thank the lord that I'm her dad

Tough Crowd

Those Canadians are a tough crowd.

It is an election year in Canada this year too. I think the voting process in Canada is cool. The campaigning starts about 5 weeks before the election. It seems like we started a year ago here in the US. And instead of two real candidates you get three! These guys don't mess around with slinging mud at one another, they sling shit!

My buddy Nelson is from Grand Prairie and he likes to fill me in on what is happening in Canada from time to time. He shared that with me today. We both agreed that we would vote for Harper just because he ran the ad.

395

A couple of weeks ago I was on vacation with my family. This year we rented a van and hauled the kids, the grandma, and the dog up to Donner Lake. Yes, kind of like the Griswolds, except grandma and the dog made it back alive. Grandma took the brunt of most of our jokes but she was a good sport and offered to ride on the roof whenever we needed her to.

The car was full and the mood was tense for the first 90 minutes of the trip, at least it was for me. It takes a lot of effort to get this freight train moving, and I usually don’t relax and settle in until I get to highway 395. This is when my vacation starts, at the junction of interstate 15 and highway 395.

This desert highway is the road to many fond memories in my life.

When I was 8 years old my father woke me up in the middle of the night to pack me into his ‘70 Barracuda for our first father-son fishing trip. He didn’t tell me what we were doing and to try and go to sleep. I slept for a couple of hours but woke up when my dad cranked the 8-track tape player, the group Creedence Cleerwater Revival, the song Travellin’ Band. I think he was excited and wanted me to wake up; I didn’t mind and I like CCR.

My dad told me about our trip. We were going to a place he used to go to when he was a kid, Rock Creek Lake. Rock Creek Lake is about 45 minutes north of Bishop, CA. and about 45 minutes south of Mammoth Mountain. Over the years Sherri and I have caught a ton of fish out of the crystal clear waters at Rock Creek Lake.

It was still dark, and the Cuda was flying. “Slow down dad! Please don’t hit that rabbit!” were thoughts going through my head, but would never say. He never slowed for a single critter, but we managed to avoid them all. I was relieved.

I think we were in Lone Pine when the sun finally came up. I was surprised to see snow on the mountains in the summer; you would never see that in southern California. ”Holy shit! 45 cents a gallon!” my dad bellowed, “We’ll gas up in Bishop.” I think it was 43 cents a gallon in Bishop, much more reasonable.

We stayed 3 days and 2 nights at Rock Creek Lake. Our campsite was next to an outlet creek from the lake. I caught my first fish in the lake and many more just from our campsite. I used worms and salmon eggs, bait that still works for me today. The sun and mosquitoes did a number on me. At the end of 3 days I was sunburned, mosquito bitten, and filthy (no showers), I was ready to go home.

The ride home from RCL is about 5 to 6 hours, an eternity for an 8 year old. I think my dad was shooting for 4 hours, I think the CHP thought those were his intentions too. “Shit! I knew I should have kept it under 90!” my dad whispered as he pulled over. The CHP stood at his window and asked, “Do you know how fast you were going sir?” “95,” my dad replied as he showed him his badge. “Pomona Police? You know sergeant Hannibal?” asked the chippy. “He’s my boss,” said my dad. “Try to keep it under 80 officer Johnson,” the CHP smiled.

The two knuckleheads bullshit for another 20 minutes and probably lost whatever time my dad had saved while speeding down highway 395. I watched my dad’s speed the rest of the way home; he was just under 80, like a good boy. We didn’t talk that much but it was understood that mom wouldn’t know about that little CHP thing.

My father and I made 3 more trips to RCL, all of them before I got married. When he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer I tried to get him to make one more trip. It was literally one of the first things that popped into my mind. One of the first things that I thought would give him and me comfort. He said it was a great idea but he kept putting it off until he was just too sick to do it.

As a teenager I made a couple of trips with my friends, no parents, fun, very fun. Sherri’s family is very familiar with Bishop and places to go along the 395, so the tradition of camping and fishing along that highway continued when I got married. Each trip I would be surprised at how things have changed and haven’t. Each time that pleasant feeling, as I turn off the 15 and head north on to the 395.

Double WTF!!!

WTF in bold letters! WTF in italics!

Last year I was a little disappointed with Alissa’s teacher. So you can guess how happy I was when we walked over to the school last weekend to see who her new teacher was going to be and found out it was the pickle lady again. But it gets worse.

My daughter’s school has put her in a combination 1st grade/2nd grade class. There are 15 first graders and 5 second graders. I guess the first grade class was short on students and the second grade class had too many students. This was their solution.

The principal let Miss Valasic hand pick the five 2nd graders that would be in her class. We feel so lucky.

Alissa thinks this is great. The other four kids were good friends of hers last year.

I think Miss Valasic handpicked 5 little teacher’s aides.

How much attention are those kids going to get in that class?