Ye Olde Blog
Since learning last week that I’ve been laid off from my job of the past 10 years, I’ve been feeling a bit anxious and unsettled. So imagine my relief when, this morning, just a few short days after uploading to CareerBuilder.com a copy of my résumé, I received the following email:
It was supposed to be so simple: take the little block of wood, cut it into a car-like shape, slap some paint on it, attach the wheels, ta-dah, done, finished, no sweat.
Of course, when it comes to me, nothing is simple … particularly a pseudo-carpentry project.
OK, so here’s the story with this bullshit:
A few weeks ago, my wife and I took the kids to the comic-book store. While there, my wife, who is on the school council at our son’s elementary school, hit up the owner to help sponsor a school fundraiser by providing for the event one of the costumed characters that often appear at the store. The owner said he didn’t have anyone specific he could send, but he’d be willing to loan out the store’s $800 Darth Vader costume.
“Jon’s pretty tall,” Mr. Helpful Comic-Book Store Owner suggested. “He could wear it.”
Well, as we all know by now, no one loves to get himself into ridiculous shit more than me, so I, of course, said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
I can’t believe I forgot to introduce you all to the newest member of the family! Where are my manners?
This little bundle of joy is Baby Alive Tink & Poops. No, that’s not her real name, but that is what Jayna has been calling her since, like, a year ago when she first saw the commercial. As you can probably surmise, the “Tink & Poops” part means she not only urinates—which is just so yesteryear—but she also defecates. And if there is one thing we need around here, it is a fake baby who shits herself.
There is a scene in the movie “Almost Famous” during which the protagonist — a young and budding music journalist — approaches the backstage door of a concert venue, rings the buzzer, gives the surly security guard his name and says that he’s there to interview the band.
The guard checks the guest list on his clipboard.
“You’re not on the list,” he says dismissively and slams the door shut.
Me to Wonder Woman after running outside and catching her before she backs out of the driveway so that I can hand to her the cellphone she left on the kitchen counter—the one that I can never reach her on:
“Please keep this on you.”
“I do.”
“Apparently not.”
“Yes, I do. That’s why it was inside.”
On the first day of the first class of my freshman year in college, my College Writing 101 professor instructed us to go home that weekend and write a paper about the person whom we would most like to meet if given the chance.
And I could have bullshitted him. I could have written about wanting to meet JFK or Martin Luther King Jr. or some other revered, sociopolitical icon … but I wasn’t an 18-year-old freshman just out of high school; I was a 22-year-old freshman who had recently spent nearly four years in the Army, and my inclination to sling bullshit in order to impress a college professor was, by that point, quite nonexistent. And as I looked down at the blank notebook in front of me that weekend, I saw stretching out before me four long years of higher education … and I knew that the only way I was going to make it to the finish line was to figure out how to marry my own personal interests to my academic pursuits.
So I wrote the “I want to meet Eddie Van Halen” paper.
Eleven months ago, I installed WordPress on my server. I posted a dozen or so entries using the default Kubrick theme (some of which I’ll probably migrate over to this new set-up). Then I decided to create my own theme. It only took me the better part of a full year to finally get it online.
I was determined to get the site up and running before the end of today. I made it—with about an hour to spare, even. Figured I’d start 2006 on the right foot.
This place is currently held together with spit, chewing gum and some of the ugliest CSS and XHTML you’ve ever seen (don’t even bother checking to see if it validates; it so doesn’t) … but I’m launching it anyway. I’ll clean up the behind-the-scenes stuff during the days and weeks ahead. Meanwhile, though, it’s high time I start writing. After all, that’s the main reason I built this damn place.
