Seeking rejuvenation, of course we spent Star Wars Day at Disneyland.
“We are Big Disneyland Nerds.” My entire family. Since 1957.
I’ve been trying to get my photo act together to share some of that day here. I’ve been failing miserably.
So one last try…
Continue reading “May the Fourth Be With You! Always. Even on May the 17th.”
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms and all the sons and daughters — because we wouldn’t be moms without the kids, right?
Yes it did, and I kinda liked it.
“Ha! ‘Kinda liked it’? I call BS. You’d rather sit there and write than [fill in the blank].” My BS Detector
Most people have probably heard of The Zone, and many of us have experienced it — that mental space where everything flows, things seem to fall into place without effort, and Time has no meaning. Artists, artisans, athletes, authors, drivers, gamers, inventors, mail sorters, mathematicians, meditators, readers, scientists — almost anyone doing anything that requires reflexivity or creative thought can sometimes find themselves in The Zone.
But fewer people know how to get there at will.
“At will? What are you talking about?” You. And Doubting Thomas.
“This guy is so full of himself!” Me reading [mumble-mumble’s] ninth post of the morning.
It’s a fact. There too many a whole lotta a few bloggers out here who are so full of themselves it’s difficult to believe they have room for lunch.
Don’t worry — I’m not talking about you.
My youth was full of doctors. I won’t bore you with medical details because what’s the point?
The point is that post- the most significant part of my medical past, I endured an extended-followup that lasted from age 5 through age 22, when I stopped going. Every year, I submitted to either an X-ray or a fluoroscope, and one of two sets of blood tests. The classic “1 from Column A and 1 from Column B” choice. Except I didn’t make the choice. If the choice had been mine, I would have gone out for Italian.
Continue reading “X-rays and Fluoroscopes and Blood, Oh My!”
Baby Jason was Brylan’s baby to help him practice being a good daddy.
Brylan was four when he started kindergarten. He could already read and write (he had addressed the invitations to his fourth birthday party — not that I was proud of that or anything). His teacher, Mrs. Reels, was maybe 33, soft-spoken, kind, and pretty. Or maybe she was pretty because she was soft-spoken and kind. She loved the kids and offered them chances to Show and Tell about anything they chose.
Brylan chose Baby Jason for Show and Tell.
Just before Christmas, 1984, the first holiday season of my Child Care career, the second of Cabbage Patch Kids, I started thinking about adopting. I wasn’t too worried, after all, 1983 had been the Year of the Cabbage Patch Christmas Riots. Surely, Coleco had manufactured enough of them this year to meet the growing demand.
Oh, sorry. You didn’t think I meant to adopt a real child, did you?
Don’t watch the video at the end unless you’re a True Math Nerd. I put it here only to prove what I’m about to say.
“There are an infinite number of infinities, and they are all different sizes.” Me. Summarizing part of Vsauce’s video, How to Count Past Infinity
Stick with me here… I promise, I’m not going to talk about math. I’m going to share my Black Hole/White Hole Theory and the cool analogy the talk of infinite infinities led me to.
“Oh yeah, THAT’S better.” You
I injured my dancing doll. I don’t know how old she was, but I was four. It was kind of an accident, but if I’d understood the physics of stress, I might have saved her.
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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