Biden: His Time (I couldn't resist)

This morning I was going through the headlines while listening to SPOGG's grammatically incorrect playlist.

Mark: Oh, crap!
Neesha: What?
Mark: Obama picked Biden.

Paul McCartney: "Live and let die!"

We didn't receive the text message, but I imagine it ended, "Not the best. Not the worst. Just what we're stuck with." Can't be a good sign.

mw

At the grocery store...

Neesha: Caleb, whiney boys don't get suckers in the car.
Caleb: Mommy! I want to whine!

mw

When you're up, you're up...

Me: Okay, Bug. Time for nu-night. Your one minute is up.
Caleb: No. My one minute is down.

mw

Summer photo session

We took Caleb Downtown for a late-summer photo shoot. We had intended to do it earlier in the year but between broken bones and new homes it was pushed back a bit. This year The Boy wasn't cooperative in terms of sitting still, looking at the camera, or smiling, so we only have a couple to share. In fact, the one photo that looks like he is smiling is actually him singing his ABCs and was taken the next morning in our backyard.

Oh, well. It was a fun evening.

m&n

Review: I Am Legend

In I AM LEGEND, Will Smith joins the ranks of Vincent Price (in 1964's THE LAST MAN ON EARTH) and Charlton Heston (in 1971's OMEGA MAN) as the star of an adaptation of Richard Matheson's 1954 novel of the same name. Often surprising in its focus on loneliness and loss, this thoughtful, eerie, and.What do Will Smith, Vincent Price (The Last Man on Earth), and Charlton Heston (Omega Man) all have in common? Richard Matheson's 1954 horror classic I Am Legend.

The plot is simple enough. A medical scientist that moonlights as an Emma Thompson look alike develops the cure for cancer by engineering the measles virus to attack cancerous cells. Unfortunately the virus mutates and kills 90% of Earth's population while mutating 9% into zombies that feed upon the flesh of the 1% who are immune. As military scientist Robert Neville, Will Smith is the lone survivor in New York City. Immune to the virus in both its airborne and contact forms, Neville searches for a cure as he wanders Manhattan, Times Square, and the Flatiron District with his dog, Sam.

While I Am Legend is based on a horror story (flesh-eating zombies, and all), the horror element is simply the vehicle to carry the story. In this regard, it suffers from the same flaw as Signs, namely, an audience unable to see beyond the trappings. Robert Neville's efforts to save humanity in its physical form parallels his own struggles to maintain his own humanity(witness Shrek, Bob Marley, and the video store). This becomes particularly poignant after he is forced to strangle Sam, his lone companion for three years, after she (Sam is short for Samantha) becomes infected with the virus. The movie is often surprising in its focus on loneliness and loss as it shows Neville haunted by memories of his family leaving quarantined Manhattan two years prior. While not exactly Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch, Smith delivers a solid and convincing performance in a movie that basically amounts to a 90-minute soliloquy.
Rating:

• Buy it now
• Worth $10 at Costco
• Happy we rented it, but also happy we only rented it
  
• No good at any price
• That numb feeling at the top of your head? That's your cerebral cortex closing up shop

m&n

A future groupie

I was working on my lesson for tomorrow when Caleb came up, sat on my lap, and asked to listen to some music. I turned on "Interstate Love Song" by the Stone Temple Pilots. If you are not familiar, the opening transitions from a mellow beginning to a more aggressive guitar line.

Caleb: Oh, I like that one.

mw

Stupid crayons

After struggling to get a particular crayon out of its box:

Caleb: Stupid crayons.

Kind of embarassing. Kind of funny.

mw

Grammar advice for the school year

A posting from our good friends at SPOGG that warrants reprinting.

1. Verbs HAS to agree with their subjects.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
4. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
5. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
6. Also, always avoid annoying alliteration.
7. Be more or less specific.
8. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are (usually)
unnecessary.
9. Also too, never, ever use repetitive redundancies.
10. No sentence fragments.
11. Contractions aren't necessary and shouldn't be used unless you don't want to seem too formal.
12. Foreign words and phrases are not always apropos.
13. Do not use more words, phrases, sentences, or other linguistic elements than you, yourself, actually really and definitely need to use or employ when expressing yourself or otherwise giving voice to what you may or may not be thinking when you are trying to say how many words you should use or not use when using words.
14. One should NEVER generalize.
15. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
16. Don't use no double negatives.
17. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, i.e. etc.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be ignored.
21. Eliminate commas, that are, not necessary. Parenthetical words however should be enclosed in commas.
22. Never use a big word when a diminutive one would suffice.
23. Kill excessive exclamation points!!!
24. Use words correctly, irregardless of how others elude to them.
25. Understatement is always the absolute best way to put forth earth shaking ideas.
26. Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.
27. Eliminate distracting quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson is said to have once remarked, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
28. If you've heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: Resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
29. Puns are for children, not groan readers.
30. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
31. Even IF a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
32. Who needs rhetorical questions?
33. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
34. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.

mw

Good things come...

It took a long time to find a place we were willing to make an offer on. It took a long time to get that offer accepted. It took a long time until the previous owners moved out and we were able to move in. It took a long time to meet with the title company, courtesy of American Airlines. And, of course, it took a long time to sign the papers.

But we're in.

The inside of the home has a distinct pink hue throughout and, well, we're not exactly pink people - or popcorn people for that matter - no matter what everyone in the ward says. Therefore, inside shots will be forthcoming, but only as part of a before and after set.

Thank you to everyone (Randy, Ryan, Adam, Keira, Mike, Brandy, Dad) who helped us move out of the townhome and into a storage shed. Thank you to Mom and Dad who let us live with them in far off Elysium (read: Enterprise) for a month while we were waiting for the previous owners to move out. And thank you to everyone (Dad, Mom, Mike, Simon, Randy, Joyce, Adam, Keira, and Talena - Ryan bugged out on us, saying he had to serve a mission or some such thing) who helped us move from a storage shed into a home.

m&n

Five more payments and this baby is mine!

During a pleasant jog through downtown this past week I was stopped at an intersection. There, I watched a balding and...um...unfortunately large...well, okay he was fat...man with a greasy mullet (yes, balding with a mullet) in a skin tight, yellow polo shirt riding a skate board and looking so much like a beached, yellow whale being wheeled out to sea.

It made me wonder: have I sufficiently invested for my mid-life crisis?

mw

Commuter Rail: The Continuing Adventures

Sometimes I feel like I live in one of those books from the Choose Your Own Adventure series. I read one while I was in elementary school. As I recall, each time I came to a crucial decision ("To make a decision that will lead to certain death, turn to page 97; otherwise, turn to page 38"). Silly me, I always chose page 97 even though I new it would result in my character puncturing his environmental suit on a rock and collapsing in convulsions as the toxic atmosphere of the planet Xarx devoured his flesh.

On Tuesday I left the office at 5:30 with the intent of catching the 5:40 Trax. This is a four minute trip, so I stopped by the restroom on the way. Two minutes later, I was out of the restroom and standing at the elevator when I happened to glance out the window that looks down on Main Street and saw the train already there - five minutes early. I frantically pushed the button to the elevator, and once inside started jumping up and down in the box trying to get it to go down even faster, all the while cursing myself for having dried my hands after I washed them in the restroom (I could have used the extra weight). To no avail. In my head, I heard, "If you choose to use the restroom and so miss your train and get stuck at your office for another 45 minutes, turn to page 97."

Now, I like my job, but we have an I-like-you-but-want-to-spend-as-little-time-with-you-as-possible relationship. Kind of like some of my dance dates in high school. That being the case, I didn't really feel inclined to go back up stairs, but at the same time didn't want to waste the time just waiting for the next bus and I didn't trust myself in Sam Wellers across the street. Ultimately, though, I wanted to get home and see my family. So, I cinched up the strap on my brief case, untucked my shirt from my slacks, and started running. Fifteen minutes later I reached the Frontrunner station. My pride forces me to insert here that I beat the Trax.

Enter Wednesday evening. I left my office at 6:00 with the intent of catching the 6:10 train. Again, I stopped by the restroom on the way. Again, the train arrived five minutes early and I jumped up and down in the elevator trying to make it go faster. Again, I missed the train. Again, I ran, though this time I caught the traffic lights better so did it in ten minutes. See page 97 for details.

Thursday I left the office at 4:55 to catch the 5:10 train. I ran down the hall, passing the restroom, still jumped up and down in the elevator, and ran across the lobby and to the Gallivan Plaza station.

The train was late by five minutes.

mw

It's not about age, it's about skill level

Chris: Do you read?
Me: A bit.
Chris: I mean books.
Me: Um, yeah. Got ya' covered.
Chris: You know, it wasn't until I started reading real books that I realized comic books suck.
*pause*
Me: Ya' think?

mw

In which Josh reveals his culinary refinement

We took Ryan to the MTC on Wednesday (more to come). After the meeting in the chapel that ends with missionaries going out one door and parents exiting another, those who remained went to The Macaroni Grill for lunch.

Upon entering the building,

Josh: This is a lot different than Burger King.

Thank goodness.

mw

Pool*

If this were a newspaper, I would be publishing this retraction below the fold, bottom right corner, in about 3/4 column inches. However, as this is a blog, it receives top billing. William Randolph Hearst is rolling over in his grave.

Simon was kind enough to spend some time helping Neesha and I move this into our new home this past weekend (more to follow on that). Somewhere in between loading the headboard and the baseboard for our bed, he took a moment to correct a few facts.

• His voice does not crack on "Everything Little Thing She Does is Magic."
• We also frequently had cake batter with our lunch. Surprisingly, chocolate, while good, is not the best flavor. That title is held by yellow, followed closely by white. Spice is just bad.
• Toad the Wet Sprocket, Jars and Clay, Ben Folds Five, and Sister Hazel also frequently made it into our music rotation. While I have no idea what any of those artists look like, I'm comfortable in saying Deanna Carter was still the hottest of the bunch.
• We need to start playing again, just as soon as I find my cue amdist our packed belongings.

mw