defining tlc: the princess and the pig

i may have mentioned that mrs. blogmaster has been a little under the weather lately. well, that was like two weeks ago, but tonight, even as i sit here tardily typing only my second post this month, mrs. b lay in bed still not fully recovered from what's been ailing her ever since her birthday.

turns out the apple of my eye's tonsils are about four times their normal size (per a medically trained professional). knowing that her tonsils are uncannily enlarged makes aim feel like a freak of nature.... or superfreak, if you will. i tend to prefer the term "mutant" to "freak" as such a label gives her a better chance of being able to join a group of superheros like the x-men, and then wear spandex all the time and go by some wicked awesome nickname like the tonsilator or tonskillz. what have you. i only bring up aim's afflictions so that you, my beloved zombies, may play a pivotal part in settling a point of dispute between the mrs. and me.

the origin of this particular debate reared its controversial head some three or four days ago as i sat dutifully at my dear wife's side on what one could have easily perceived to be aim's deathbed. fortunately, for all our sake, reality was getting the better of any misconstrued perceptions of my muse mustering her last breaths and that dour old chap better known as the grim reaper was no where near knocking at mrs. blogmaster's door. alas, mrs. blogmaster seemed unaware of the science of the matter and, in an effort to curry some compassion from her companion (i.e., me), the lass locked her longing eyes with mine and lamented that she was in need of some tlc.

ever so anxious to please, i grabbed hold of this information and made every effort to internalize it accurately and to its fullest extent so that i might give that which my dear wife desired at that moment. unfortunately, in my mind, the term "tlc" was not entirely clear to me as i figured it could be interpreted in at least one of three different ways.

first option: tlc could mean the grammy award winning american girl-group, consisting of tionne "t-boz" watkins, lisa "left eye" lopes, and rozonda "chilli" thomas. if i'm not mistaken, these gals were at their musical peak during aim's high school years meaning this trio of r&b crooners could have had an immeasurable impact on her impressionable life in such a way that she continues to look back on said heroines as a source of strength and healing. fortunately, i know aim well enough to know that even now as she is reading these very words she hasn't the slightest clue in infierno as to who tlc is. thus, it is unlikely she was referring to them when asking for some tlc and i was successfully able to eliminate this option from consideration.

with r&b out the door, tlc could only mean one of two things: (1) either mrs. blogmaster wanted to cuddle and particpate in every derivative innocuous form of cuddling known to man or (2) she wanted to participate in a more mature form of cuddling. therein lie the dilemma and i was hellbent on getting this right for the sake of my suffering wife.

at first glance, many of you might not think this quandary to be as quizzical as i'm making out to be... and you're probably right as it's probably not. but, sometimes you just have to be sure, because, for instance, if i were to say i wanted some tlc, it would most likely mean something slightly different than if my wife, or pretty much every other woman in the world, were to say they wanted some tlc. but, you never know... so, i had to be sure.

that being said, i thought to myself, "let's not play games here... let's get to the bottom of this." i knew in all liklihood she probably wanted to cuddle, communicate, read books, paint toenails, braid hair, go for a walk on the beach, participate in a dramatic reading of twighlight, or pretty much any other activity known to man other than the alternative form of "mature" cuddling... in fact, i estimated that there was about a 99% chance that the former forms of cuddling were the types of cuddling she was wont to particpate in, e.g. the non-mature cuddling activities.

however, as you may have surmised, there was still a 1% chance that she might have meant "mature" cuddling and if that were the case i wanted to be sure i was there for her in whatever way she needed me to be. and, so, to be sure i just flat out asked, "just so we're clear, when you say "cuddle" you're not saying you'd like to engage in "mature cuddling" (or something like that), right?"

i can't recall mrs. blogmaster's exact response, but let's just say she made it abundantly clear, in no uncertain terms, that she was in league with pretty much the rest of the female world in how she would define tlc. and, as expected, it was nowhere near what i would have expected it to be had i asked for the same. for a minute there, i was hoping she might strive for new heights of greatness by distinguishing herself from the rest of the female species. you know, rise above traditioal stereotypes of what a woman should want... guess she's just one of the sheep.

on the bright side of things, i guess we know now and, as a result, i don't ever have to make the embarrassing mistake of assuming "tlc" means something that it clearly does not. crisis averted. problem solved. myth busted.

we all lived happily ever after... at least until aimee decided to poll everyone she's come across since by inquiring as to what they mean when they or their wives ask for a little tlc. turns out, not to my surprise, that most guys lie when answering and most women agree with my wife to the point where during one such polling a female friend finally turned to me and said in a "this-pretty-much-confirms-what-we-already-knew" tone of voice: "well, jeremy, i guess you're a pig."

maybe... but, i must ask: what's so piggish about wanting to listen to a little ionne "t-boz" watkins, lisa "left eye" lopes, and rozonda "chilli" thomas when i'm in the mood for some tlc?

mrs. blogmaster is one year older

it just so happens that mrs. blogmaster's birthday is on easter sunday this year. i guess its bound to happen once every six or seven years, but i don't really recall the last time it happened... which is kind of surprising because mrs. blogmaster can be somewhat of a diva on her birthday. more power to her. it's her day and i'm happy to celebrate the moment of her birth to the greatest extent possible; as such, that other semi-important event... the resurrection... may have to take a backseat to the other important event i just mentioned.

i'm only kidding of course, but aim did inform me yesterday morning that she was going on a "mom hiatus" for the weekend which was her right due to the fact that her birthday fell on a weekend (meaning she gets the entire weekend off in order to celebrate). fine. following that logic then, i guess i get the rest of the week off when my birthday falls on a weekday. i'm not counting on it.

like i said, she deserves it... she's more than earned it; but, i don't know if i have the mental, physical, and emotional capacity to handle aim on her birthday when she is also sick. aim can also become a little diva-like is when she gets sick. i guess if someone gets sick, you should take care of that person and, for some kooky reason, that's what human beings have come to expect from one another. thing is, i never get sick and when i do, i downplay it as much as i can and don't expect any pampering. because of this, i typically, and maybe callously, downplay other people's infirmities, as well.

unfortunately, aim kind of takes the opposite approach to sickness and whenever she's a little under the weather she's usually within inches of losing her life. well, at least in her mind she is. and along with aim's said mortal illnesses, or as like to call them stuffy heads or runny noses, she expects the exact kind of care given to her that she gives to others. there's nothing wrong with that, she deserves it... i'm just not hard-wired that way, so i typically don't respond the way i should. rather than remain at her side all day long ,i'll usually come up with some lame excuse like, "i have to go to work" and then leave her on her deathbed. it's amazing she's survived all these years.

the reason i bring this up is because i have now mentioned two instances in which mrs. blogmaster has the potential to expect diva-like treatment (keep in mind, i'm not saying she doesn't deserve this type of treatment, i'm just telling you how it is). and so later last night, on the eve of mrs. blogmaster's birthday, she tells me she's not feeling well. uh oh, diva-like treatment to the second power. i all of a sudden felt as though i was staring down the double barreled shotgun of sickness and birthdays. luckily im shifty and can dodge the lethal spray of visceral buckshot coming from such a shooting iron and planned to give the queen of cooper manor a small slice of a poor-man's diva-esque treatment:

yesterday, or the day before aim's birthday, i realized i hadn't gotten her a birthday present. i had a couple hours at one point to do some shopping for her, and so i did. while i was shopping for aim's b-day present/s i found a great deal on some shoes and a shirt... problem is, they were for men and they just happened to be my size. being the bargain shopper i am, i couldn't resist. plus, there really isn't anything wrong with buying something for yourself while you're out shopping for someone else's birthday, is there? is still got her some gifts and spent more time and emotional effort looking for her stuff than mine. it's all good.

besides, i rushed around to three different stores to buy the ingredients for aim's birthday menu today which will be catered... by me.

it actually started last night with hagen daaz's chocolate and almond covered ice cream bars. maybe as close as you can get to balboa bars without going to newport. good substitute, but not nearly as good as the real thing. rich man's diva treatment: charter a sesna to newport just to get a balboa bar and then head back. poor man's diva treatment: the aforementioned. they'll do for now. oh, and she had a sparkling glass of grapefruit flavored perrier.

will do a light breakfast this morning: yogurt parfaits, some more perrier and the traditional cinnamon rolls.

then some brunch: eggs benedict. aim has become a big fan of eggs benedict ever since she had hash house a go go's eggs benedict. i will be preparing something similar to eggs benedict but instead of using canadian bacon i will be using prosciutto and a little spinach. mine are pretty good, but not as good as hash's. unfortunately, that's what the poor man's diva gets. we'll have some more perrier and the leftover birthday cake our friend stephanie made and brought by... possibly the best tasting birthday cakes i've ever had. and it looked really, really cool.

dinner: homemade pizza napoli style minus the coal-brick oven. i've got the ingredients to make some wannabe settebello's/grimaldi's pizza, unfortunately i don't have the know-how or the brick stove (and i forgot to buy some pine nuts) to fully replicate. we'll see how it turns out. finish off the perrier and maybe give aim a glass of her favorite: pellegrino (i personally can't stand that stuff).

twilight dessert: no we are not going to eat the book, edward, or jacob for dessert; rather, we will probably pour aim her final glass of pellegrino as the sun starts to go down, but not before we use it to chase down some lava cake and vanilla bean ice cream. should be good.

so, that's the menu. everything always sounds so much better in my head than when i actually taste it. we'll see how it turns out.

in closing, let me just say that although mrs. blogmaster deserves rich-man diva-like treatment, she married the man that only has the capacity to give her middle-income diva-like treatment... for now. all in all, she is the polish that makes the cooperfive shine. time and again she amazes me with her dedication to perfection and desire to be a good person. she won't allow anything of value to be cheapened by complacency or apathy. sincerity is key with her. she can be a very sensitive person and that keeps her keen on other people's feelings which is the catalyst behind her desire to help anyone in need. i love seeing that very motivated, yet selfless side of her. and i would be remiss if i didn't mention that aim is also a pillar of spiritual strength to the family whose dedication to our faith is nothing short of inspirational. row hi who, babe, you grace us all with your presence.

i also failed to mention that aim is pretty easy on the eyes... so easy i feel like my corneas are getting a massage every time i look at her. note to zombies: it always helps if at least one person in the relationship is smoking hot. it's done wonders for ours.

and with that i sing in a monotone key: happy birthday to you, mrs. blogmaster!!!

the anniversary but not before a quick political disclaimer

if you don't want to read about my politics, skip the stuff in ittalics:

i just got on the blog to post about phase 2 of the gauntlet and noticed an ad addressing health care reform linking you back to harry !@#$'s website (for those new to the blog, !@#$ is used in place of the four-letter word "reid"). as a disclaimer, i do not in any way shape or form endorse harry !@#$ or the healthcare reform bill that was recently passed. i also don't endorse any stake conveniently holding firesides for brother !@#$ during an election year, but don't get me started...

as for health care...

i, like anyone with a heart or conscience, admit that health care needed some changing and credit to the democrats for having the anatomy to actually do something about it. unfortunately, according to friends of mine who are native to other countries with the very kinds of health care systems the left covet but who have also lived in america as non-resident aliens (note to zombies: these friends are anything but conservative), something moving towards a universal system is not any better than what we have now... their words, not mine. in fact, more often than not, the reason some of these individuals came to america was to escape the health care of the other country, ie canada. both systems have their pros and cons, but more often than not I have heard negative commentary from people i know and trust who have actually lived in and dealt with both systems.

plus, i think there is also the issue of whose corruption and cronyism you trust more: the governments' or the capitalists' because you are flat out lying to yourself if you try to claim that a given side is immune from either. i tend to side with adam smith and the invisible hand because the market is less binding and generally responds more quickly and willingly to consumer dissatisfaction and similar market forces than the government does (those pesky set terms and the ability to make law and all); that being said, we need both forces at work as together they serve as a nice check and balance against each other.

this reform may bring some balance to the spectrum, but most of us gun-toting free market capitalists fear that this may be a step in the wrong direction (for the record, i don't own a gun, but i do own several light sabers). for if political geniuses like sean penn and bill maher get their wish and this system drives insurance out of business, eliminates competition, and leaves the government with all the power... well, you know what they say about absolute power and barney frank and fannie may and freddie mac. i'm happy to be proven wrong, but i am inherently incapable of admitting that politicians can get things right unless, of course, i agree with them.

last word on this, my main concern is that if this new system disincentives some of our best and brightest from the medical field, in other words if the quality and cutting edge advancement of our health care services goes down because the prestige/financial incentive evaporates from the field, the words that come to mind to describe my feelings towards those who passed this legislation in spite of major opposition to it are too strong to utter on this blog.

that is all. i've vented and now i'm going back to semi-professional blogging in the comedic arena full-time. politics gets me too riled up and into too much trouble with friends.

the cooperfive recently spent a few days in san diego while i was there for a work seminar. san diego is a pretty sweet city. we used to spend a week or so there each summer growing up in the mission beach area, but i'd never really spent much time downtown in the gas lamp district. i know they recently revitalized that whole area, so it wasn't as cool then as it is now, but i was really impressed. i kept having to ask myself why we don't come to visit more often, but then i'd remember that it's because it costs money.

not long before the san diego trip, aim and i celebrated our 12th anniversary. it was a fairly uneventful celebration this year as mrs. blogmaster requested that we not do much. being a guy, i actually thought she was serious about that... on second thought, she probably wasn't. but, hey, we've only been married 1 and 1/5 decades, how am i supposed to know that kind of stuff yet... give me some time to get to know her a little more.

at any rate, we spent the evening watching a show i don't really recommend called "diary of a mad black woman" or something like that. i'm almost ashamed to even admit that we had the dvd, but someone at work whom i trust almost implicitly when it comes to movie recommendations recommended it and actually gave me a copy of the dvd to watch, so after we'd had it for like 6 months and there was nothing at red box, the dvr, or on tv, we finally gave in.

it had a few funny lines here in there, but overall i felt like i was watching a seminary video or that love dare movie fireproof i wrote about a while ago, but for the bet channel. interesting, but not my cup of tea.

the movie is about some pompous wealthy lawyer who treats his wife like garbage and eventually kicks her out. she, in turn, finds true happiness through some young handsome thing with sweet cornrows who works for a moving company by day and the tv show criminal minds by night. there was a nice underlying Christian message throughout the show which is always nice to see, but watching this show before bed was kind of like hearing the mormon tabernacle choir sinker in on the ipod at an inopportune moment like i shared in a recent post... if you know what i mean.

thing is, the couple in the movie had a few fights which reminded me of the one or two fights mrs. blogmaster and i have had over the course of our marriage. right. and when i think that far back i am reminded of virginia and helen's house: the century and a half old house we lived in as newlyweds while attending school in provo, utah. lots of fond newlywed memories there. take for instance the time that aimee, being the good dutiful wife she is, made a special dinner for the two of us... perhaps an anniversary dinner.

for the record, i think mrs. blogmaster is an excellent cook. admittedly, cooking was not really something she'd had a ton of experience with coming into the marriage, but i didn't care... that's not what i married her for. over the years, however, she has become quite the culinary wonder, to her credit. she, on the other hand, feels fairly inadequate when it comes to this area of homemaking, but keep in mind, she's a perfectionist.

on this particular evening, aim decided to try her hand at little dish i like to call chicken cordon bleu. pretty ambitious for a novice. but when she brought it out and served it up, it looked and smelled great. in fact, it even tasted great, leaving me thoroughly impressed. after one bite went down smoothly i proceeded with little inhibition until i started to notice a minty fresh-like aftertaste. curious. no matter, maybe it was some new age recipe that incorporated some odd ingredient to give a traditional favorite a modern flare. i'm down with that. but the taste persisted and seemed to even get a little stronger. and then i noticed a greenish liquidy looking color that appeared to have bled off of the string holding the ham and cheese together and onto the chicken meant. it was at that point i either realized or had to ask, is that dental floss in the chicken?

sure enough, it was. ever the industrious woman, aim had made good use of our dental floss by incorporating it into the preparation of this celebratory meal (i'm not sure how much we were flossing back then). i couldn't have cared less. it still tasted great overall and the effort aims had gone to in making it to begin with was all that mattered to me. one thing for sure is that i had the best smelling breath i'd ever had after eating cordon bleu when i walked away from that meal.

back to san diego.

while driving in the car...

caleb: "dad, i've got a rash from colston's underwear."

me in my mind: what am i missing here? how the heck does that happen?

colston in his unassuming little three year old voice, with a slight lisp: "i've got my own underwear."

it was then that i remembered caleb had thrown on colston's underwear that morning because he had been too lazy to get his own out of his suitcase. these types of comments are commonplace during a road-trip with three boys.

then there was dinner at the mexican place on coronado island.

colston: "i've got to go potty."

i look at aim hoping she'll bail me out but knowing full well it is infinitely my turn given all the diaper changing and potty breaks she takes care of when i'm not around. i look back at coles.

me: "let's go."

we get in el bano and, of course, there aren't any kids sized urinals. great. not surprisingly, coles insists on using the urinal and he also insists on dropping trow to the ankles which means i have to pick up the kid and hold him on par with the urinal so he can keep the stream in the urinal while his pants are down. note to readers: this is an odd site to the common passerby, me standing there holding a kid with his drawers down to his ankles while he goes tinkles in an adult sized urinal.

as luck would have it, he gets stage fright and doesn't go. i wait patiently, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else in the bathroom, until time is up and we call it quits. we head back out to finish the meal. not more than three minutes later.

colson: "i've got to go poops."

i don't even bother to look at aim this time and grab the kid by the hand hurrying him along to the restroom again... those sizzling shrimp for the shrimp fajitas aren't going to sizzle forever.

we get into the bathroom and this time he has no choice but to use the toilet. we enter the stall and he refuses to let me put anything on the toilet seat as a buffer between the seat and his cheeks. fine. i place him on the seat where he braces himself from falling in by placing his hands on the seat itself. i try not to throw up. please tell me hand sanitizer is as potent as i'm hoping it is right now. a couple of grunts later he's done and insists on flushing the toilet even though it flushes itself. at this point i don't care what he touches in the bathroom and let him feel around for the flusher. he finally believes me when i say he can't flush it and we leave the stall and wash his hands like he's a surgeon prepping for surgery. now back to the fajitas if i can still muster up an appetite.

i sit down and start to eat. not more than four minutes go by.

colston: "i've got to go tinkles."

me: "that's it, babe. it's your turn."

let's move on to the pictures...

scooping poop for disneyland

to-do lists seem to be the bane of every relationship. ours is no exception. sometimes i will get home from a long day at work just as mrs. blogmaster is heading out to yoga, the latest birthday dinner party, book club, church youth activities or some other extracurricular event but not before she slips me a to-do list. to put it nicely, i hate it. generally, the last thing i want to do when i get home from work is more work, but that's the way it is.

thing is, i'm not any better in that some mornings i'll wake up, get dressed, and jet off the work only to send mrs. blogmaster an email of to-do items that she can busy herself with during the day (it's not like she has myriad other things she has to get done). to put it lightly, she hates it.

thus, the moral of the story is that we've both learned the hard way that to-do lists are a menos eficaz (that means less effective in spanish) way of making deposits in one's emotional bank account. in fact, it typically has just the opposite effect. as such, we tend to only make these types of requests when there has been a recent direct deposit in the emotional bank account such that the emotional cup runneth over. on the other hand, sometimes we don't care if the account is overdrawn and just want the other spouse to get something done we don't want to do ourselves (how's that for mixing metaphors? does anyone even have an idea of what i'm talking about anymore?).

moving on...

as with all things blogmaster related, there is, of course, some endearing anecdotal evidence, sitting as an illustrative backdrop, against the moral of this story which you zombies should wisely view through the ever-changing to-do list lens of life.

partake...

if memory serves, i was the latest perpetrator in the union of mrs. blogmaster and myself to unleash a to-do list on the better half. one of items on this to-do list included: make sure you sign us up for disney's give a day get a day. for those unfamiliar with this type of sorcery, the bottom line is that if you sign up to volunteer a day's worth of service for some noble cause, then you get a free ticket to disneyland. not a bad deal if you think about it: volunteer a day and get something in return. nothing says charitable service like a quid pro quo beneficial arrangement. thus, in the spirit of providing philanthropy with the intent of being compensated for it, i thought the cooperfive might as well throw our collective mickey mouse eared hats into the ring and get some free tickets to disneyland by serving our fellow human beings.

thing is, i didn't actually end up serving human beings... i served animals. pets at a pet fair to be more specific.

yes, you read my words correctly. my lot in this whole ordeal was to serve animals at a pet fair. to my pleasant surprise, i only discovered my assignment upon receiving my confirmation email from the program. at first i was pretty stoked since as an active member of the mormon church and an eagle scout i have had plenty of opportunities to serve; however, these opportunities have usually involved manual labor and physical exertion. it is not uncommon for me to profusely sweat or hurt myself during a mormon service project... and all for something we generally refer to as "blessings", not tickets to disneyland.

lest ye think i'm complaining, i'm not. i enjoy helping out where i can, i'm just saying that service for me doesn't traditionally involve helping out at a pet fair. it usually involves blazing a trail in the vegas heat or carrying a piano up the stairs on my back. a pet fair sounded like a nice change-up from the usual... kind of fun, actually. i especially got excited when i saw that part of the job description included being a pooper scooper. rad.

to illustrate...

having grown up a cooper, i heard my fair share of cooper pooper scooper name calling. as funny as is to hear that over one bizziliion times as a kid, it's still a barrel of laughs when i hear it today as an adult... even like three moths ago when someone dropped it on me at church. i was laughing so hard that i wasn't laughing at all. name calling is one thing, but with this pet fair, though, i had the opportunity to actually put my money where others' mouths had been for so long in that i could actually dig in and scoop some poop, thus, earning my rightful moniker.

funny thing is, on the other end of this machination mrs. blogmaster anxiously awaited my reaction thinking i would be bummed about an assignment that involved scooping up canine feces given my sour disposition towards coddling pet owners, coddled pets and, one could safely assume, their poop... au contraire mon frere! for, unbeknownst to me, mrs. blogmaster had specifically chosen pooper scooper duty as my service project in direct retaliation for my having left her a to-do list which included signing us up in the first place. the funnier thing is that i was actually looking forward to the event for some odd reason... maybe i was because of its potential blogability. how's that for backfired, lover?

unfortunately, i didn't really get to scoop any poop as there wasn't much excrement left on the ground at the event. either all the dogs were constipated or the owners were responsible enough to clean up their own stuff. i'm not sure. i did get to count some dogs, hand out some doggie bags, and assist in unpacking a car to help set up a ferret display, though. it was good times.

i especially enjoyed the idiosyncrasies of the near fanatic pet-owner crowd. they definitely are their own culture. in fact, i once authored a blog post touching on my feelings towards those who seem to value their pets more than their offspring (although, i think some of this crowd can't tell the difference anymore).

i'm not hating on the peta type, their hearts are in the right place and maybe the pets are all they have... to which i say, i'm glad you have someone. but then there's the couple with the ferrets that seem pretty normal on the surface, but upon closer look something just doesn't seem right and i have to wonder...

for instance, how does that first conversation about being a ferret owner (and not just any ferret owner, but a multiple ferret owner that goes to pet fairs to parade ferrets) go over with the significant other for the first time? maybe there's some bar or online dating site where pet lovers go to chat/hang out and there's this pretense that everyone involved is little over the moon for their pets. if that's the case, then fine: caveat emptor... that's one thing (although, with the stigma on-line daters already have, do you really want have the potential for weird to the second power by making it an on-line dating website for ferret groupies?).

in contrast, if the conversation is more of a coming out of the closet event in the sense that it's a sudden "hey, i know we just met, but i've got to tell you that i'm really into ferrets... i mean really into ferrets! i've got five of them that i parade at pet fairs every once in a while. they're a big part of my life. are you down with that?" well, then that's quite another situation.

and then i have to wonder if there's even proper etiquette in that culture to govern when such news is properly sprung. is it proper to lay it all on the line during the first meeting/date? or is there some more strategery involved in the sense that one is better off waiting until a few dates have gone by and here's some emotional investment already in the bag? inquiring minds want to know.

hey, if you want to refer to your pets as your children, more power to you. i get the bond. i cried every time we lost a pet as a kid. in fact, i got a little emotional when i just found out my parents took the cat we all hated to the pound the other day... and i seriously disliked that thing. i get it. i just don't get the dog strollers. unless your dog is injured, old, or legless, dog strollers are an abomination to humankind.

in summary, the service project was fulfilling. it was especially fulfilling when i printed out the free vouchers for disneyland yesterday. at least i got to do something interesting like count dogs rather than something boring like prepare meals for homeless people like mrs. blogmaster did. where's the fun in that? my mom, on the other hand, takes the cake. special k's project consisted of her reading to birds. i said birds.

what is this world coming to? do i need to remind you all of what happens to the humans on planet of the apes? consider yourselves warned.

jameson presents on bugsy seigel: it's what we've always wanted as parents... that our son could portray a gangster

jameson recently had to do a project for class on a famous nevadan. at first when he told me about it, he said the person had to have been born in nevada and that the person had to be dead. that really narrows the field quite a bit seeing as how hardly anyone is actually born in nevada anymore. everyone's a transplant. and anyone who is famous and from nevada, is still alive.

the obvious choice would be the blogmaster since i am a proud native, problem is, i'm still alive and i wasn't about to take one for the team just so the boy could do a presentation on me. when jameson first told me about the project, i spent some time in deep thought trying to be a helpful parent, but wasn't really able to come up with anyone. after a while i just forgot about it and figured he or mrs. blogmaster would figure it out.

next thing i knew, he had been given the option of presenting on bugsy seigel or benny binion. ah yes... two of nevada's favorite sons. we nevadans can all hold our heads high in honoring the memory of these two examples of model citizens who blessed our great state with their presence and respective contributions. oh, that every parent could have a son or daughter grow up to be a gangster/murderer who establishes mafia run gaming in a desert town before being taken out by the mob himself. on the other hand, if the mafia is out of reach or one doesn't want to set his/her sights quite so high, each child can still set his/her sights on opening a trashy casino or two and be implicated in a murder and other crimes. allegedly. we should all be so lucky.

virginia has chumps like thomas jefferson and george washington, but we've got bugsy and benny... at least our guys didn't own slaves. apparently, the teacher changed the requirements of the assignment since bugsy wasn't born in nevada. i just think it's funny that nevada's heritage lies in a bunch of knuckleheads like these dudes. on the other hand, what else should i expect from a town that lives and dies the poker table? besides, i shouldn't judge... we've all been faced with the option of: should i kill this guys or not... he's losing me money? it's not an easy choice to deal with.

back to jameson...

so, jameson put together a report on bugsy's life along with creating a tombstone replica of bugsy's tombstone. i helped jameson with the report and ended up researching bugy's life quite heavily by skimming wikipedia. first, let me just say that writing papers for kids these days is so much easier than it was when i was a kid thanks to the internet. i can't complain though, 'cause i can't imagine going through college or law school without the internet either.

thing is, i think kids shouldn't even waste their time learning how to write anymore... what's the point? if someone wants to learn latin, morse code, how to use a rotary dial phone, a fax machine or how to write, then to each his own; but, do it on your own time. schools should be teaching kids how to type from 2nd or 3rd grade on. to people like mrs. blogmaster, penmanship is an art that should not be undervalued... i say, bullocks, it's an inefficient waste of time, especially for error prone kids. word processing for kids would make every parent's life easier... plus, end products would look much better.

the reason i bring this up is because jameson had to hand write his report. no big deal, if you get it all right the first time. but not so good when you have to erase a few times here and there with a cheap eraser... after a while the report starts to look like an ancient manuscript that survived a world war or two. so, instead of having more time to do important things like play x box or watch the suite life of zach and cody (kill me now), jameson has to re-write his paper. consequently, while elementary school kids and the guys who still use those really old school printing presses that required you to place every letter on a page in backwards in order to print it are wasting their time with that stuff, the rest of us are typing blogs, emails, books, and the like in a fraction of the time.

can you imagine if i had to handwrite this blog? one good thing is that my posts would probably be shorter. but, they wouldn't be nearly as legible and they'd probably be less coherent than they already are.

back to jameson again...

at some point that night before his project was due, we finished it. i was pretty involved in helping, maybe too involved... but that's debatable. i couldn't let him turn in garbage when it comes to writing, i just couldn't... not the blogmaster's son. it was actually an oral report he was going to be giving, as well, not just a paper he turned in. so, i'm sitting at work the next day and i get a voicemail from jameson saying that the vice principal liked his paper so much that he wanted jameson to come back the next day to be videotaped as he presented it.

my first thought was, uh oh, was i a little too helpful on jameson's project? but, i quickly rationalize it all (a git we lawyers have) figuring it was all good since wikipedia was literally the sole source of research for the project and he physically wrote it out. all i helped him with was sentence structure, grammar, overall paragraph organization, and research. not that much, really. anyway, like i said, he did write it out all by himself... three times. let's just say, jameson tries to get his homework done before i get home so his mom will check it and go over it with him instead of me. it's funny, because i learned that lesson early on in life, as well (to avoid having my dad help me with homework). thing is, from about 2nd grade on my mom wasn't able to help with any of my math homework... that stuff was way too complicated for her.

bottom line: jameson did a splendid job preparing and presenting his report on someone who should be very close to all nevadans' hearts: bugsy seigel. if you live here, hang a picture of him on your wall next to Jesus (or moses, if you're jewish, or oprah or any holywood star if you're spiritual, but not religious, etc.).

here's some pics of jamebo and his ilk looking very debonair in his gangsta' get-ups:

phase one of the gauntlet, valentine's day: check

i know it's a little late, but i needed to report on phase one of the gauntlet. for those who are unfamiliar with my personal gauntlet, you can read about it here... but basically it starts with valentine's day, then leads to the anniversary, then to aim's birthday, and then to mother's day and all in successive months.

luckily for me, the last couple years for valentine's day have worked out pretty nicely since the law firm i work for does an attorneys retreat to newport, california right around valentine's day. being the opportunist i am, i seize the moment and have aim come up with me so we can stick around an extra day or two and we make a weekend of it sans kids. it's a pretty good time.

for the most part the weather is pretty good, but sometimes there's some overcast, but nothing too bad. either way, that never stops us from renting some beach cruisers and riding up and down the coast, though. we usually make the trek up to hunington beach and hangout in the little downtown area there always willing to support the ca economy by buying some clothes we don't need and taking in some of the local cuisine. this year we had some fish tacos from wahoo's. they were pretty rad. we have also seem to have made it tradition to stop in on fashion island so that we're tempted beyond capacity to spend even more money on more things i'm sure we could do without. it's actually quite pathetic, but we are unable to resist the allure of this crass shrine to commercialism. we're still bargain shoppers, though, and even at joints like this you can find amazing deals.

after hunington beach, we head back towards newport which is nice because that's mostly downhill and the wind's at your back. this year aim didn't crash on her bike, which is always a plus. without fail, we always hit bablboa island to do a little shopping on it's enchanting downtown strip and, most importantly, to grab some balboa bars at dad's. as i mentioned in the previous post, no trip to newport would be complete without a balboa bar. i highly recommend them to all and would even go so far as to say the 3 hour drive there is worth it just to enjoy a balboa bar.


all in all, the weekend is a nice break from normalcy and the daily grind of endless responsibilities, work, baseball practices, homework, laundry (so i hear), parenting, etc., etc. visiting southern cal is always a therapeutic, if not nostalgic, event for us. while we only lived in california for three years... and it was nor cal, we still find ourselves longing for the ideal weather, the proximity to the beaches, the good people we met, the food, and that permeating feeling of being on vacation 24/7 when we visit. of course, we only tend to remember the positives of ca while we're there, but that's what keeps us coming back for more.

this year was no exception. and add to all the amenities of southern cal the fact that this was a valentine's day weekend getaway and, as usual, it was a match made in heaven. this being the case, there is always a portion of the trip set-aside for some "special" time between aim and me... if you know what i mean. don't worry, i'm not going to get all "tmi" on you here, (although, maybe i already have), except to say that when you have the ipod playing in the background in an attempt to set a sultry/romantic tone for the evening, make sure you're using a playlist that doesn't include any church hymns, mormon tabernacle choir or otherwise... because i can attest that when you're trying to get your love groove on and all of a sudden a crying violin starts cranking out "i know that my redeemer lives", it's a real mood killer.

luckily, this is a problem that can be easily remedied. unfortunately, revealing too much information, or the wrong information, during a newlywed game at a valentine's day party cannot. i'll just leave it at that except to say that when addressing the question about what first attracted you to your spouse, steer away from anything that might sound like "her spaceship-looking nose." just a gratuitous pointer from the erudite blogamaster. you can thank me later.

here's some pics of us on our way to the v-day party. note that aim's not mad or overly embarrassed yet because this was pre-spaceship nose comment. also, note the spaceship like nose. lastly, please note that i wasn't intentionally trying to pull-off that "i'm way too cool to even be interested in this photo" look on my face, i was just born that way... there's nothing i can do about it.

happy belated valentine's day from these two lovers!

a celebration is an order: colston turned fwee!

earlier this month, our youngest, colston, celebrated his third birthday. or as he would say, he turned "fwee." colston has a little bit of a lisp, but i'm not too worried about it. his mother, on the other hand, sometimes acts as if it's so outlandish that any minute, charles xavier is going to appear out of nowhere with a white haired black chick and ask if colston can join his school for gifted mutants. babe, it's not that pronounced... ok, maybe it is, but he'll grow out of it and if he doesn't, i'm sure he has a bright future as the x-man who beats down bad guys by furiously amplifying the sound waives of his lisp at them. in the meantime, no sense in giving the poor kid a complex. thank goodness he doesn't read the blog.

the birthday was nice and low key... at least for everyone but the evening's entertainer: me. we only invited family and a neighborhood buddy of his or two, but i had the wondrous idea of preparing frozen hot chocolate, frozen bananas and balboa bars rather than the traditional stuff. the idea sounded great in theory, but i have since learned that balboa bars aren't that easy to replicate and since it was my idea, it was all on me, but, as usual, aim made for a great help-mate and did all the decorating and the like.

for those unfamiliar with the term balboa bars, these are one of my all time favorite ice cream novelties. one reason the term may not ring a bell is because you can/should really only eat these things on balboa island in newport, california. basically, they're an ice cream bar, dipped in chocolate that freezes into a shell, but not before you choose a topping to cover it in (oreos, nuts, almonds, sprinkles, etc. fyi: almonds are the best). aim and is spent the weekend before the b-day in newport where i had my fair share of balboa bars and, as such, we were both channeling the deliciousness of this delicacy and thought we'd give it a whirl in lv. long story short, the bars weren't bad but they weren't great. the frozen hot chocolate was much better and the frozen bananas were pretty tasty, too.

back to colston...

it was kind of funny, but colston had a black eye on his birthday. we don't know how it happened since it was inflicted while my parents were watching him. don't ask, don't tell, but you can see the remnants below. the i've posted span the course of about three days which is approximately the amount of time we spent celebrating cold stone's birthday in one way or another. i especially like the shot of coles the day he apparently got a hold of the gel and try to pull of his best glen danzig impression. what's more is he's guarding that truck and trailer toy he's sitting by in the pic with a scowl that no fool would want to mess with... and if any particular fool did, i would pity him. just ask caleb. joking, kind of... funny thing is, jameson had a black eye, too, when we got back from cali (word on the street is that caleb is responsible for both of them). it's an eye for an eye thing in this brotherhood.

bottom line, colton is inexplicably adorable. i don't know if it's the cheeks, his belly, his little voice or the fact that he's probably the most jovial toddler you'll ever meet, but he is seriously one of the most endearing souls on the planet. the kid is ticklish on literally every spot of his body and it's almost impossible to resist tickling him on a daily basis. his laugh is not only contagious, but infectious.

colston is also a very smart dude having learned to talk, count and recite the alphabet at a pretty early age. he picks things up quickly and is constantly trying to keep up with his older bros... which he's not too bad at, except that he's not near the fiend for speed that they are. i remember the time at disneyland when i was going to rock the tea cups out of this world when all of a sudden i looked over at colston and against the backdrop of blurry park-goers i saw what looked like a giant tomato that was about to pop in place of where colston's head used to be. i immediately slowed down and learned that he's just not into that kind of stuff... fine by me, less likely to break his back at powell that way. in summary, we're luky to c-town on board at the cooperfive and i can't imagine what life would be like today had i not put my special dance moves on aim that special night some three years and nine months ago. she never knew what hit her.

ok, getting serious again... the aforementioned is great and all, but i have to admit the achievement i am most proud of when it comes to colston is the fact that he followed in the footsteps of his indefatigable dad by potty training himself. yes, zombies, it's time to clear-up the urban legend you all have likely heard that the blogmaster potty trained himself... it's not an urban legend, it's true. consider it cleared-up. and just like his father before him, c-town decided one day he'd had enough of the diaper life and bam all of a sudden we're saving like $40 a month not having to buy disposable swaddling loin cloths.

queue joke about the blogmaster being 6, 10 or even 15 years old when he potty trained himself.

to the contrary, my friends... i've heard it all before, besides, those jokes won't fly in these parts now that i have some proof of my accolade which proof is none other than the flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood heeding the manifest destiny of his genetic make-up by teaching himself to use the loo at the tender age of two. it's in the dna, zombies. accept it. teaches it in the schools... there's science in that logic and, thus, it cannot be anymore disputed than say global warming, err cooling, err climate change.

time for the pics...