The Post for the Sake of Posting

Yesterday, Haley told me I was the meanest Dad in the whole world. I replied that I wasn't. She said, "Prove it." She also had a few tantrums, and after a screaming fit, she hid in one of the bedrooms at Kelsee's parents' house. I found her and she exclaimed through her tears: "How would like it if someone treated you that way? You wouldn't like it at all! You should just move away!" She then tried to hide under the bed and got stuck, which meant I had to rescue her. She sobbed and sobbed, but wrapped her arms so tightly around my neck as I carried her to the car. How quickly they forgive? By the way, she was mad because I was making her clean up the toys she played with. ------ Everyday when I get to work, I set up a music playlist, depending on what mood I'm in. Sometimes I just let it randomly pick songs from all my music. Sometimes I have a theme. Sometimes I just leave it with whatever playlist was already there. Today's--and Friday's--consists of: Complicated and Hot by Avril Lavigne Dreams by The Cranberries Hurt You So Bad by Crazy Town Thank You by Dido Bring Me to Life by Evanescence (my favorite Evanescence song) Paralyzer by Finger Eleven Fully Alive by Flyleaf Dig by Incubus Five songs by Linkin Park (my new favorite group): Qwerty, Crawling, Shadow of the Day, Nobody's Listening, One Step Closer Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth Say it Right by Nelly Furtado How Your Remind Me by Nickelback Champagne Supernova by Oasis Silent Lucidity by Queensryche Jigsaw Falling Into Place by Radiohead Creep by Radiohead Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden The Sky is Falling by Stuck Mojo Hunger Strike by Temple of the Dog I Hate Everything About You and Pain by Three Days Grace Temptation by Trik Turner Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve Dissatisfied by Zebreahead -------- Cornhole season has offically begun. (Get your minds out of the gutter; look up the game.) I started this season like the guy who has played second fiddle on his basketball team for years and wants to be the man, regardless of results. Kally's Kris and I were a force to be reckoned with last summer. We challenged all comers and rarely lost. It was obvious to all, however, that he was The Man. This year, I decided to compete against him. Didn't start off well. I had a rookie (Cameron) and we got smoked a few times. Then I traded Cameron for Kirby and we won two in a row in some long games. Kirby retired and I picked up Cameron and his girlfriend Beth (via phone). After plenty teasing from the rest of us, he quit and I played a few rounds solo before Kody showed up to finish the game. We lost. Who cares? It's a sign that spring is in full bloom. -------- Back on the topic of music, here's the evolution of my favorite music: Romper Room (???-1977) The Banana Splits (1977-1979) The Electric Company (1979-1981) Solid Gold (1981-1983) Whatever was on the radio (1983-1984) Run DMC (1984-1986) Poison (1986) Beastie Boys (1986-1988) Winger (1988-1990) Public Enemy (1990-1992) Michael McLean (1992-1994--Hey, I was on my mission; my selection was limited) The Police (1994-1995--The beginning of my "throwback" years; I couldn't catch on to the new music since I'd missed it for two years) The Pet Shop Boys (1995-1997) Creedence Clearwater Revival (1998) Pretty Much Anything 80s (1999-2005) Queensryche (2006) Daughtry (early 2007--this was the beginning of my musical rediscovery; the rest of these are in no particular order) Coldplay (2007) Evanescence (2007) Sean Paul (2007) Nickelback (2007) Collective Soul (2008) Linkin Park (2008--where I am now and have been since late February; will it last? Who knows...) I care way too much about music...

Boo!

Cameron and Haley have a love-hate relationship. They say they can't stand to be around each other, but then they don't leave each other alone. Haley pesters Cameron and Cameron teases Haley. The story I'm about to tell comes to me from Kelsee's lips. Any similarities to real persons and/or experiences is completely intentional. The other day* Cameron had been doing his typical teasing of Haley and her friend Alyssa. Often Cameron's teasing consists of jumping out and scaring them. Anyway, Haley and Alyssa are in the backyard playing. Cameron in the basement with his music blaring. Kelsee comes out of the laundry room and notices Cameron is standing at the back door staged to jerk it open and scare the girls when they walk by. Kelsee quietly tiptoes up behind him (hey, who knew that a teenagers loud music would actually benefit someone else in the house?). At the moment he prepares to open the door, Kelsee strikes, screaming a horrific shriek. Cameron jerks, lets out a terrified scream, turns and collapses backward on his butt (while still screaming). Kelsee goes into fits of uncontrollable laughter as Cameron tries to regain his composure. "Shut up. Shut up, that wasn't funny!" Sure it isn't, Cameron. Kelsee calls me and leaves a message, laughing so hard I can barely make out the story. So then I call Cameron and channel my inner Bill Cosby. "Hey, Cameron." "Hey." "Kelsee called me a bit ago. Um, is your underwear clean?" "Huh?" "You know, because first you say it, then you do it." "Shut up, Jason. That's not funny." Sure it isn't, Cameron. I'm sure it isn't. --------- *This symbol denotes that this phrase is one of the best of the English language. With it, we can tell stories and we don't have to remember the day it occured. Works for any time in the past, be it days, years, decades, centuries or millenia ago. Also works great when having an argument with your spouse. "You always do that!" "When do I do that? You tell me the last time I did that?" "Just the other day..." "Whatever." The only problem is it allows your spouse to conjure up offending things you did 10 years ago and treat it with the same weight as some offending thing they may have done an hour ago, as if they are only getting even. -------- Speaking of Cameron, he has a MySpace page. Here's the link. His profile is private, so you can only see minimal stuff. But there it is all the same. He keeps pining for me to find the memory chip for the camera so he can take better pictures. I'm sure I'll get around to it, just like I got around to fixing his Playstation.

Flip the Switch, Already!

My attempts at doing home projects is about as successful as trying to get a pet rock to shake hands. It's inherited. My dad sucked at home maintenance, and I guess God thought it would be funny to pass that trait to me. Still, I attempt to learn and do. If I don't have to rely on "freebies" or even "cheapies" from family or friends, I'm happy. I've learned to change the oil in my car (but why would I; I can get it done by someone else for $21). I can now change out my own brake pads. I've learned to hang new light fixtures and change out old outlets and light switches. This last one is still a lesson in progress. Kally's Kris came over while we were having our basement remodeled and ran wires for a new light in Cameron's bedroom. I planned to do the switch myself, but as this was my first attempt at putting a new switch where one didn't exist, I asked Kris for a little guidance. Over the phone he said to take the blah blah blah (I won't bore you with details of how to wire a switch). Anyway, I got my stuff together and headed to the basement to handle the job, which was a little more complex than I thought it would be. The carpenters had rigged a makeshift light fixture that involved an extension cord connected to exposed wires at the swith box. Anyway, I made the assumption that they had made the contraption work. I disassemble the rigging and proceed with the wiring. (Let me interject here that Kris is very good at explaining things. While it seemed to me to be complex, it was still very easy to follow his instructions. It also helped that he labeled each bundle of wires.) Anyway, I finish my work, check my wiring and flip the breaker switch. Nothing. I flip it off and rewire, making sure my connections were sure. Back to the breaker. Nothing. Did I misunderstand him? I mentally go over his list of instructions. No, I did it like he said. A little more fiddling around, but still nothing. I'm baffled. Maybe there is something I'm missing. I call Kris. He goes over the instructions and I check it all. Looks good. He's baffled. (He said that it could be he forgot to connect it at the breaker, but I'm sure he was really thinking, "How do you spell incompetence? J-A-S-0-N.") Anyway, on Saturday, he and Kally make a special trip to Mt. Sterling to try to resolve my issues (of which I have many, and only a few can they resolve). Kris heads downstairs, tools in tow. He checks for current along the wire bundle. Nothing. Must be a problem at the breaker box. My breaker box, as most do, contains lots of switches. Someone labeled them years ago, but used terms that were somewhat cryptic. I've tried to relabel as I've dealt with the various outlets and switches. Also in the box, but unlabeled, are four new switches installed by Kris--a double switch for the water heater and two single switches. One is for the light in Cameron's room to which I've become aquainted. The other one is covered in black tape and I is not connected to anything. Kris looks the box over and hesitantly, as if he's not quite sure, removes the tape from the extra switch and flips it. Now, I've often said that my life is a musical. Kelsee and I can sing a song to fit just about any situation (ask Cameron about our duet of "Would I Lie to You?"). Immediately upon Kris flipping this extra switch and a beautiful glow imminating from Cameron's room, the following filled my head: "Why can't they get the picture? Why don't they understand? We're not dealing with the planet of apes, we're talking about the modern man. So you people with them itsy bitsy teensie weensie tiny minds... Here's your sign. Here's your sign." Hey, at least I wired it right.

"Puff, my God, I'm draggin'"

I need to blog this. It's only fitting that I do it. Kelsee and I had the opportunity to go with Kelsee's parents to a play. When her mother called and Kelsee asked me if I was interested, I accepted before really comprehending what the play was. Have you ever known someone who went through menopause? Well, I mean obviously we've all known someone who was, but did you know they were going through it at the time? OK. Then you can relate to "Menopause, the Musical". For those not in the know, this play is basically four women from varying origins going through menopause at the same time who meet up at a department store in New York City. They spend the play lamenting "the change of life" through witty interactions and lots of songs. You will probably be familiar with most of the tunes, as they are classics with different lyrics (as evidenced by the title of my post). Contrary to what some may think, I was actually excited to see the play. I read about it and it sounded good. Some folks mentioned that it was somewhat rique (whatever) and that there was one scene that might be outright embarassing to a guy (it wasn't). When we arrived, it became quickly apparent that I might be one of the youngest guys in attendance. Granted, it's not like I stood up and asked every guy their ages, but there were very few men who didn't show the signs of age. And while the guys were clearly outnumbered, there were plenty in attendance. Anyway, I have never attended a play or movie where the crowd--me included--laughed so hysterically so consistently. First off, the play was hilarious. Absolutely hilarious. However, what was even more funny was watching so many women, many of whom were weeeeelllll past the change, laughing so hard that they were keeling over, slapping each other on backs and just various other outward responses to humor. I had more than one fleeting moment where I wondered how many heart attacks the play has produced over the years. I was a little alarmed that I found one of the women in the play to be fairly attractive. I mean, I'm young and she's old. It then dawned on me. I'm not that young. And she wasn't that old. Which means I'm closer in age to women going through the change than I am to women who will get to vote for the first time this year. Anway, a very entertaining hour and a half. I highly recommend it to anyone looking to just laugh.

"You Have to Use Black Shampoo..."

I had a kinda surreal experience at the store yesterday. I'll share that in a minute, but first a little background. Ever since Haley was born, people have been obsessed with her hair. I remember when she was was just a baby. We were flying to Kentucky to visit and while we were just walking down the aisle of the airplane, people would reach out to touch her head. It was like they couldn't help themselves. As soon as they'd do it, they'd seemingly come to their senses and act all embarassed and apologetic. Then we'd go places and people would come from across the room and make over her hair. Often times they'd want to give us advice on what we can use in her hair to help it stay so pretty and curly and not frizzy, etc. Anyway, when someone makes a big deal over her hair, we've gotten good at making a few canned comments. Anyway, yesterday Cameron, Haley and I were at Walmart. Haley is riding up on my shoulders. She hadn't had her hair washed, so it was frizzy and pulled back in braids. I heard a voice behind me. "Purdy!" Thinking it was someone I knew, I turned around. Standing behind me was a short lady who appeared to be of mixed race. She was looking up at Haley. "Her hair is so purdy!" Oh. She meant pretty. I broke out one of my standard responses. "Thanks. Too bad she doesn't like it much." Bad choice. "Well, you just don't put the right stuff in it you need to put oil in it it's just drying up there's this stuff in a blue and white bottle I don't remember what it's called here let me show you." With that she was off. I was too stunned to do anything but follow. I was able to gather my wits about me for a moment. "I need to grab something down this aisle. Cameron will go with you and you can show him. I'll meet you guys at the front." Nice of me to throw Cameron under the bus, huh? Anyway, I set Haley down, took my time grabbing what I needed (it was Stove Top Stuffing, BTW) and headed to the front of the store. At the front I saw some friends and was chatting waiting for Cameron to come back. To my dismay, they come around the corner. I'd beat them to the front of the store. She was glad to see me and I got caught up in her gravitational field again. As we were walking to the back, she looked down to assess Haley's hair. "Is her mama a woman of color?" she asked. "No." She looked up at me with such a quizzical look, I almost laughed. "She's adopted. Her birth father..." "Oh yes well my hair has three different types nappy straight and..." I lost her, but continued to follow. We got back to the specialty hair products and she started showing me bottles of stuff. "You need to get something that says oil like oil lotion or moisturizing oil just buy the cheap stuff it does't make any difference you can get a better selection at Kim's in Winchester you take the exit like you are going on the bypass and turn left i can't remember the name of the road oh Lexington Road or something anyway you keep going and it's on the right they'll fix you right up the korean lady there can help her husband doesn't know anything." She opened one bottle and squirted it in her hand. Before I can react she rubbed her hands together and began to rub it into Haley's hair. I was speechless. I glanced at Cameron, who was standing behind her. His reaction was a mixture of amusement and amazement. "See how nice that makes it you just need to do this everyday and then get a big brush and comb it and comb it." She was mimicking the act of brushing. Then she bent way over to get another bottle. "Excuse me," she said as she reached back to hike up the waistband of her pants. I'm guessing Cameron got an unexpected view. She proceeded to open this next bottle and squirt some in her hand. "See not much different you should just have your wife give me a call and I'll go with her to pick out some things we can get you folks fixed right up." She was rubbing this lotion into Haley's hair now. Haley's eyes were big as saucers and she was sort of grinning like she didn't know what to do. I third bottle was opened and she began to apply it to Haley's hair. While I was wondering if she was going to use every product on the shelf, she continued her tutorial. "You can use your shampoo our hair just doesn't like it it strips it you need to use black shampoo and you don't need to wash it every day i haven't washed mine since february i don't do anything with it unless i can get an appointment at the salon ok get your cell phone out." I obeyed, feeling a little like the folks in "1984". "My name is Amanda and my number is 859-498-7384 you just have your wife give me a call now i hope your isn't one of those types that will get all crazy because you've got some woman's phone number (I shake my head) just have her give me a call and i'll help her out girl your hair is so beautiful ok love you guys." And with that, she was gone. I was dumbfounded. Cameron was slackjawed. Haley was perplexed. We waited a few minutes and nobody ccould talk. I looked at Cameron. He looked at me. I looked at Haley. "Haley...Did you think that was...weird." She looked up at me. "Uh huh," she said, nodding. As we exited the store I commented to Cameron, who seems to get girls phone numbers every time it goes outside, that I can't go with him to the store anymore because I'd never before gotten a girl's phone number at the store. Must be contagious. I got home and told Kelsee. She laughed at me. Hysterically.

Don't Listen to Old People

We spent Sunday enjoying a hidden little National Park in the southeastern corner of the glorious Bluegrass state. Cumberland Gap, the gateway for Daniel Boone to explore the west, contains some great history, scenic views and a pretty cool tunnel through the mountains. Anyway, on our way, we decided to stop at Pine Mountain State Resort Park. We drove up to the parking lot for the (in)famous Chain Rock overlook. I'd been there once; Kelsee hadn't ever been. Keep in mind, this "Chain Rock" is just a gigantic chain connecting a big rock to the mountain in an attempt to keep it from plummeting down on the sleepy town below. You know, should the mountain ever decide to let go of it. Kelsee kept asking me about the overlook and the hike to it. My recollection was sketchy at best. I last visited when I was like 15 or 16. We had a family reunion one summer at Pine Mountain and we all went for a little excursion to the rock. I remember I was unaware of what the rock was. To me, "Chain Rock" sounded like some rock formations that looked like a chain or something. My only real memory was feeling disappointed that we'd gone through so much trouble to see a chain hooked to a rock. I didn't remember how long the hike was or how nice the view was, just that it seemed like a hassle to get there. Back to the present--or the almost present of yesterday. We park at the trailhead. There is a short hike to a nice overlook that gives you a great view of Pineville and the surrounding valley and mountains. Shoulda left it at that. Kelsee seemed to really want to see the named spectacle, and I had no reason to deter her except some vague memory. As we stood at the trailhead next to a sign that said "Chain Rock - .5 miles", Kelsee asked this old guy waiting for his party at the top if he had hiked it before. He said he had, many times. She asked him what the hike was like. "Not bad," he said. So Kelsee rephrases her question, just to be sure. "Is it very steep or difficult?" "No. Well except for one small part, but its not very many steps." With that, we were off down the trail. Our party consists of: - Me, who would never be confused for a avid hiker. I enjoy hikes to some degree, but my shape is more conducive to rolling down trails than walking down them. - Kelsee, who has regularly been walking a mile to a mile and quarter a day since around the beginning of the year. This is in an effort to strengthen her back and legs, which have given her problems since her severe back injury and surgery two years ago. - Haley, whose cerebellar issues have dramatically affected her endurance and balance. A short distance later we found ourselves at the short, steep part. Not to bad. Another short distance later, we found ourselves at another steep part. A long, seemingly endless steep part. It seemed to scale steeply down the side of the mountain for what seems like a quarter of a mile, before inclining back up the last 1/8 of a mile. This last part up to the rock involves picking your way carefully from foothold to foothold before scaling the face of a solid rock. I carried Haley this last part because she kept tripping over rocks and roots. We got to the rock face and it became apparent that in order to see the fabulous chain, we'd have to scale the rock. After a very short discussion, we decided the old man was sadistic and I hoped that the rock and chain would fall so no one else would be duped by this idiotic venture.

Going back was slow going. Kelsee's legs went numb and almost deadweight less than a quarter of a mile into the return trip. I offered to use my wonderful scout knowledge to build a makeshift stretcher out of branches and fern leaves. ("I's an Eagle Scout," I says.) She scoffed at my offer, however, choosing instead to trust her own legs, no matter how numb and deadweight they'd become. It went from bad to worse when nausea set in about halfway back. I joked for her not to hurl on the trail. She didn't laugh.

I was sympathetic, though. She was a trooper and made it out and by the time we reached Middlesboro, seemed to be back to her old self. Two lessons learned here: 1. Don't listen to old people.

And

2. If you start down a trail and you notice resting benches every few hundred feet or so, turn around. It's a sign.

Family Update

I figured now seemed a good time for a family update... I have no idea why, however. Haley: She's doing well. Though she's developed this habit over the last few weeks of calling me and Kelsee by our first names. Kelsee says this happened just after Cameron got here, so about a month ago. I didn't notice the habit until last weekend. Anyway, it got so bad on Sunday, I don't think Haley called me Dad or any derivative thereof without prompting the whole day. I finally got irritated enough to "talk about it", which never really works. Among my very rational arguments: 1. Appeal to her sense of being special (as in privileged). "No one else has the right to call us Mom and Dad. Just you." 2. Encourage respect. "We are your parents; we deserve it." 3. Invoke pity. "We waited eight years for someone to call us Mom and Dad." 4. Default parental response. "Because we said so." The following day, Haley was a major pill all day, smart-mouthed, sassy and rude, to the point that she and Kelsee had a "come to Jesus" meeting on Tuesday morning which included a round of "good mom brushing your hair/evil mom brushing your hair" after Haley accused Kelsee of being the meanest mom ever. Haley liked "good mom" better. She seemed to have lost her desire to call us Kelsee and Jason, until she got mad at me last night and called me that. *Sigh* Really, though, she's been fairly pleasant for some time. We've decided that she's beginning to recognize that she's unable to do some things or unable to do them as well as other kids her age. This is probably most apparent when we go to the playground or when she goes to gymnastics. Haley is the oldest in her class, and is one of the few that can't do handstands. Other kids her age are in the older class and doing much more advanced techniques. She used to enjoy gymnastics and couldn't wait for it, but she went last Tuesday for the first time in nearly a month. She was indifferent towards it when she got home, but mentioned she hated doing handstands. This might be the part of all of Haley's issues I most emotionally dread. We try to encourage her to do her best and help her focus on those things she does well: she is very artistic (you should see the concentration and designs she makes with fuse beads) and has a very nice singing voice. Listening to her sing is very pleasant; plus listening to her gives me the chance to realize how suggestive the words to all my favorite songs are. I'm mortified. Cameron: For the most part we are all adjusting. He did well with his grades during the first few weeks he's been here. We finally got him down into his room, even though it's not completed. He was definitely glad to be there. The only major sticking point is church. He doesn't want to have anything to do with it, and has mentioned he's disruptive, I'm sure in an attempt to get "kicked out" of it. Among my very rational arguments for why he has to go: 1. Appeal to his sense of being special (as in privileged). "It's what makes our home and family different (i.e. happy) from so many others." 2. Encourage goodness. "It's the right place for you to be; it's good for you." 3. Teach patience. "It's only five hours out of 168 in the week." 4. Default parental answer. "Because we said so." We're all still adjusting. We've learned that Cameron's palette is very similar to my mom's. He's willing to try new foods (and I think we've gotten out of the "Ewwww!" stage), but he just can't seem to handle spicy or very savory dishes. We are no strangers to sensory issues in our house. We've also learned that he likes to feel like he has control over something in his life. Trying to give that to him, but still exert the necessary parental controls is a whole nother matter. Kelsee: Doing OK. She had some old pains in her back and legs this last week, so that is a little discouraging. I think she and her mom are getting back into the custom clothing thing after a little hiatus. Haley came home with two new outfits, and Kelsee mentioned that they also made few boys' outfits. I'm unable to discern Kelsee's renewed interest level, but her mom seems to be gung ho. We'll see. Me: Doing OK. Missing teaching more than I thought. (Long story, but ultimately it comes down to state budget cuts in post-secondary education and the decision to give low level classes back to full-time faculty to minimize adjunct costs.) Hopefully, this is only a short term thing. I played ball on Wednesday after missing the previous week because of my pulled back muscle (see previous post). Felt good to be up and running, if that's what you can call what I do. Probably more like up and shuffling. My boycott of baseball because of the steriods thing lasted all of a month. Then I read the following sentence: "The Braves -- yeah, the Braves -- are our pick to win the World Series." (Jayson Stark, ESPN.com) (Full article.) I'm so easy.

Does it work?

So I reread the first item in my last post: - Teenagers are moody, obstinate and vague. Most every teenager I know is this way: Cameron, Amber, most of the youth at church... - Haley acts like a teenager, and she's five. And that got me thinking about those logic questions they gave us on old acheivement tests when we were in school. You know the ones where they give you three statements and you have to answer whether it is true or false. For example: All pleems are gurums. All gurums are bobooks. All pleems are bobooks. The answer is true. Or: Some sunnahs are toubleenas. All caams are toubleenas. All sunnahs are caams. The answer is false. Anyway, I began to wonder if these method could really work in real life. Go with me here... Teenagers are moody. Haley is moody. Haley is a teenager. (See, it works!) Exercise burns calories. Sex burns calories. Sex is exercise. (They say you should exercise at least five days a week.) Talking can be annoying. Women always want to talk it out. Women are annoying. (Except you, Kelsee. I love to hear you talk.) Contractors make promises. Promises are made to be broken. Contractors should be broken. (Still waiting on my mulch from last spring.) Men are simple. Occam's Razor says the correct explanation is usually the simplest. Men are usually correct. (A truer statement I've never heard.) Computers are heavy. Paperweights are heavy. Computers are paperweights. (I must be a paperweight, too.) Buildings can be tall and square with no personality. Kally's Kris is tall and square with no personality. Kally's Kris is a building. (I'm kidding Kris. I'm kidding. You da man! Um, are you playing ball on Wednesday? Just curious.) Buildings can be short and round with loads of personality. Baby Blake is short and round with loads of personality. Baby Blake is a building. (A really small building.) I have no idea where this is heading. Aren't you glad you wasted so much time to read this. Glad I could help contribute to the declining efficiency of America's workforce!