More 16.5 K Joy

Today the insulation installers came in and were checking out the attic before they were to blow in the insulation from their rental truck. (Yes, rental truck...which I actually think is quite cool.) They came back down from the attic and said, “Did you know your AC’s supply duct is not attached? Oh, and your attic fan doesn’t work.”

Of course I knew neither thing was true, and I just had to see it for myself. So I went up, got a lungful of insulation dust (mmm—MM!), and sure enough, the AC was merrily blowing nice, cool air into the attic—though I’m sure at least some of it was going into the tube that was hanging detached from it, like a skull’s lazy, half-unhinged jaw. The insulation installation dude then directed my attention to the attic fan. It was all corroded and decrepit-looking, appearing nothing like one might expect from the promised new fan. He cranked the thermostat, and sure enough…no joy. I wanted to put my finger into the fan and push the blades to just get it going, but thought better of it: I decided I’ll stick the AC-installer’s finger in there instead!

Oh, and the duct cleaning that they were supposed to call and schedule for today? Still hasn’t been scheduled. Needless to say, the AC installers got a rather polite and very direct phone call from me. Well…relatively direct, for me. Luckily, the contact said that I should have my wife call him to make sure all of her problems were addressed, too. Heh heh. His funeral.

16 and a Half K of Joy

Alright, so I was going to try to not gripe about particular companies and their performance, but this experience has been just too much.

Government and HVAC companies alike promise a ridiculous amount of rebates and other creaminess for upgrading the cardiovascular system of the house. So, why the heck not?

We get quotes from no fewer than three companies, and finally settle on Action Plumbing Heating & Air Conditioning. The salesman was more believable, and his promises were interesting. A hyper-efficient AC and heating unit were too much for me and my wanna-be-"green"ness to resist. 600 Watts of 3-ton-equivalent AC that can be run on two car batteries in serial? Come on! Awesome! 98% efficient heater. Wow. Course we had to throw in a new water heater and water softener. $16,500 later, and the installers finally get it all installed. And wow what a mess.

Cigarette butts in the yard, cigarette stench flowing into the open doors...to say nothing of the smoker's stench reeking off the breath and bodies of the installers. Oh, would that that were the only complaint.

After nearly a week's delay in getting the units installed (we were under a time crunch to get it installed so we could take benefit of an insulation installation rebate) guys are crawling around in our attic space in order to revent the upper floor for the new AC coolness. Holes cut in each room were expected. Even the snowy insulation clumps dropping out of said holes were no surprised. And when the installers walked around with a vacuum, I thought nothing of it. A week later I'm still cleaning up the insulation bits and flakes. Really quite annoying.

Consider, though, that while they were up in the attic, they stepping on a light fixture socket and created a 12-foot crack along the center of the hallway ceiling. I'm sure they did the right thing by patching it up instead of ripping it down and replacing it...and hopefully it's even stronger than ever (apparently the builder of the house fastened the sheetrock sheets with 4 screws--FOUR!--and glued the rest. The slightest tremor, we're going to be swimming in sheetrock goodness.

Stuff finally gets installed, and there's a leak. No big. Painter for the ceiling comes in and paints the ceiling, give the leaky pipe a crank, and leak disappears.

The AC unit which originally was said to be mounted in the attic, invisible to the outside, is a behemoth on the roof thanks to the limited attic space. I've hired a painter to look at it and make it look either less obtrusive, or to stick out like a beautiful...thing. Turns out, it's supposed to be mounted outside. Strange.

Today was a nice, warm day. (I'm still sitting on the couch sweating my clothes wet at midnight.) First opportunity to use the new AC unit! Woohoo! Finally get it turned on (figured out without the promised help of the installers)...and an hour later, discover that my nightstand is soaked with water dripping out of the newly installed vent. Yay. And water is pouring down the ceiling, coming out of a bubbling panel in the side of the monster on the ceiling. Looks like another call to Action Plumbing Heating and Air Conditioning...who've been promising us a return visit to install a new air vent to the ceiling.

Let's not forget the carboard, ladder, and other boxes left throughout the yard and house and garage.

I'm sure hoping they make this right as they've promised they will. I'm annoyed, and my wife's Pee-Eye-ISSED.

The Language of War

I sit here after a workout filled with techniques on how to beat an opponent quickly, efficiently and brutally. I sit here filling my mind with images of war and bloodshed in Band of Brothers. There is beauty in the carnage, the death, the destruction and the effective use of it all. It sickens me, and I learn about it; I study it; I practice it, and I vainly hope to God I never ever see its like in reality.

What in the name of all that's holy and good possesses people (and I use the term lightly and with no small amount of derision) to find something--anything--so important as to cause the death and suffering of other people? What, power? Land? Resources? Money? Different gods? Is it worth it? Really?

I'll tell you what's worth causing the kind of suffering war brings to fighting men and women and their children. It's people that allow their greed and lust for power, land, resources, money and different gods to overcome their general decency, their very humanity in order to satisfy those lusts. These are the people that cause others who would normally not want to kill have to kill. These are the people that typically never have to kill--they only create "policy" that requires others to do their dirty work. These are the ones who are deserving of the hell that they inflict on others for their lust. Terrorists all, pretending to be statesmen. God damn them all. Course, as always, they'll be doing that themselves. I'm good with that.

Don't get me wrong: right now there are times and events that require war. There are even times when going on the offensive to neutralize a clear and present danger is needed. Damn those who create that necessity. They'll go to hell, and I won't shed a tear to see them there. And I will wade through the beautiful filth that are the skills to defend myself from these drooling demons in human form, as I curse those that create that demand, reveling in its fluidity and formless, horrid beauty.

I study two languages. Both are beautiful. Both reveal a man's soul. I prefer the language of Peace.

The Hypocrisy of the New Messiah

I'll admit I'm not the sharpest brick in the sack of drawers, but honestly, who can't see through the foolishness of this "stimulus bill" drafted by our fearless, holy leader?

Who remembers Bush being continually slammed for his attempts at putting money back in the pockets of companies so they could employ more people, and therefore allow those people opportunity to spend more and keep the economy rolling? Who remembers the derisive word used? "Trickle-down Economics." What an idiot, that Bush, thinking that the money will trickle down from companies to employees to companies.

Let's consider how this new brilliant piece of dog-shtimulus coming down the pike will stimulate the ecomony.

Question: How will giving money to these government programs help stimulate the economy?

Answer: You give the money to the government programs. They give the money to needy companies. Needy companies can then employ and pay needy employees. Needy employees can then buy stuff, thereby stimulating the economy!

So...Obama and his cronies aren't for trickle down economics, but they're for trickle-trickle down...? That's so much better!

Super Activist Powers...Activate!

I have been imbued with a deep, unrelenting, powerful dislike for Obama and his policies...his party's policies. I have little love for some of McCain's actions, but not nearly so rabid. (Truth be told I'm voting largely against two-party lines.) As a result, you can count on seeing me in some kind of volunteer role, some activist role in promoting something very different than the actions and views of Obama and his party.

Sunday night we received a call from our day care 12 hours before our kids should have been dropped off there. It was the owner letting us know that the day care was closing down. The reason: they were hit by huge taxes handed down from their large-company (highly taxed under Obama's "plan") subletter that they couldn't pay and were denied credit due to credit crunch created by Obama's party's insistence that people that can't afford homes be given loans to get homes. So now we're having to bring our kids to a more expensive, less secure, and more distant day care.

Oh, wait. It wasn't the Democrats that caused the banking problems?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYz1rbB5V1s

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuXMXmqSHnc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YL36nwCSYUM

http://www.reason.com/news/show/129158.html

...and Obama only wants to help the "little guy" by taxing the larger companies ($250,000 earnings or more). Clearly this will help the little guy, right? See above! Little guy getting shafted here! (Let alone the obvious fact that companies are already looking to move their companies into states and countries with less tax. What do you think would happen when they're taxed more?)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFC9jv9jfoA

I forget...Obama and his supporters are not for the trickle-down effect? Which party was the prime supporter of the "bail out(s)?" What was the model here? To give money to those above the little guy in hopes that it will start money trickling down from above. Trickling...down. Hypocrisy!

Let's consider, now, how the definition of "rich" keeps sinking lower and lower. Under the latest numbers, I would be considered rich and therefore subject to more taxes--you know, because those who aren't making a lot of money must get more money forced from me and forced into their hands. I give money and goods. Make me feel like I'm being forced to give and there's no reason for me to continue giving...aside from conscience and feeling that I'm in control of where it goes. But since I can't be trusted with where and to whom I give my money, I guess it's good enough that I'm forced to give it to all-knowing, altruistic, wonderful, god-like Obama.

I have no illusions about the size of my drop in the bucket. But it is something. And it is directly opposing the domination of Obama. Hmm...the Obamination?

Of Giant Hogs

Watching Monster Quest, in search of the Giant Hog, in their attempts at attaching a camera to a normal hog, or "the Trojan Hog."

"Tonight, on Fox...When Pigs Go Wild! They'll find the normal hog bringing food offerings to a giant hog sitting on a throne, her name: Miss Piggy."

"And the prince consort a giant frog."

"She has piglets attached like little piggy pasties...tassels attached to their tails, spinning, 'wee, wee, wee!'"

Blind-Stupid Voters

Obama's winning because he's got more money and because he's got the most charisma. That's it. Well, and because the average voter sure seems to be stupid.

Everyone says that the economy is the number one concern. And because the economy is sucking wind under Republican "rule", clearly we need to go Democrat. That's moronic. A voter need only do some research behind the sub-prime mortgage debacle as well as a few other things to realize that most--if not all--of the current "crisis" was caused by philosophies and pushes of the Democrat party. In just a few days we're turning the entire country over to the very same people that would see the country destroyed by their short-sighted, weak-hearted policies. Wouldn't be so bad if the voters' blindness didn't hit all branches of the government.

Ah, well. Live, learn, and hopefully recover.

Of Heaven And Hell Epilogue

As my baby boy looks at me stands on strong legs, pounding the coffee table top with powerful smacks, looking up at me with the healthy grin of a showoff showing his dad his new skillz, I am thrust into the other end of the spectrum of family life. Before when he was ill, looking plaintively at me through tear-filled eyes it was the worst hell. Now is the best of heaven.

I can't wait for the teenage years for each of my kids. I can accept that the heaven-hell cycle of daily life with kids can be applied larger-scale to their moving through the cycle of adulthood. I know it'll be hell. But right now...and after their teenage state...I can only enjoy it. (And really, as a warrior, I plan on enjoying even hell.)

Pray Your Supported Public Servant Doesn't Get Elected!

The reason we vote is the same reason we contribute money to our favorite public official. We vote in hopes that the one we're voting for gets elected, and we contribute for the same reason. And we do this so that the policies the would-be official espouses can be enacted and we, by extension, get the policies we support. And we do this so we can take advantage of the policies--exercise our new-found freedoms, as it were.

So, when this [expletive] sheriff Hutchens and the trolls of the Register insinuate in this article that the reason that the previous sheriff, Carona, gave CCW permits as a "kick-back" to his campaign contributors...well, let's just say that I really hope they have their facts straight. Otherwise they might just look like freedom-infringing trolls and [expletive]s that care nothing for the democratic process (since they've already proven their views on the Second Amendment).

Nuclear Energy is NOT CLEAN

Let's consider for a moment the fact that when one burns oil, when one burns coal, when one burns anything there is a waste product that is emitted. As we attempt to "create" or "discover" cleaner sources of energy, how can we seriously consider the use of nuclear energy? If our use of fossil fuels really is causing global warming (and honestly, I don't care; I do care about what I and my kids are breathing) and we suddenly "discover" a new, cleaner way to feed our ravenous energy appetite, the earth will recover in, say, 100 years. We use nuclear energy, we have wastelands (so-named because it's where we store nuclear waste, and because those regions become uninhabitable in every way) that will remain wastelands for thousands of years.

Now energy storage...that's another problem. We have clean, safe, friendly (oh, and I must use the fad catch-word of the year--GREEN) energy from the wind and sun...being stored in toxic batteries. Well, at least the batteries can be recycled...

Of Heaven and Hell

I've always said that having kids has been the worst hell and the best heaven in my entire existence. Right now, it's the former.

That is not to suggest that it's the actual child that's causing the hell, so much as my intense and equally impotent desire to lift any weight, destroy any life, run any distance, do anything to help my wailing 6-month-old feel better.

Mortality sucks.

Good Speeches, Questionable Content

Well, I'm sold. I now know for sure who I'm voting for. Not that there was much question. But the decision has finally been made beyond that proverbial shadowy doubt. But that's not to say I don't have my complaints.

Palin was charismatic, sharp and clear. I loved it all. ...except for the jabs. At least her insults were often couched. But Giuliani's cuts...wow. I almost turned it off. Nasty, nasty, nasty.

I believe it was Mitt who attempted to once again equate the war in Iraq with al Qaeda and the Taliban. It wasn't said explicitly, but it was implied. Are we still perceived as that stupid?

Then there were all the jabs and pokes at Obama's expense from McCain. I was inspired and attentive with everything he had to say up until he started with the insults. At one point, I had things I needed to do but I was riveted by his speech. I decided to wait to do my chores until McCain's speech turned to the jabs and check back later for some more pertinent conten. Let's just say I got everything done I needed to do.

As with every presidential candidate he made promises that he can't really do much about. As with other candidates he showed he was an advocate for things I disagree with. E.g. too much emphasis was put on drilling for oil and nuclear power--oh, and maybe we'll look into alternative forms of energy. If drilling is an interim solution, say it and put the stress on the "interim" part. And using nuclear energy as an interim? Please. Giving terrorists more opportunity to control us and harm us; giving ourselves more need to endanger our health with nuclear waste; putting up permanent nuclear facilities as an "interim" solution. Who're we kidding? Let's not do the nuclear option (as if McCain or Obama have absolute control over it). But the point is, don't assure us of how things will be just because you're in office. We all know it's total conjecture.

Touching speeches about veterans and armed services personnel were given and received with a lump in the throat and a tear in the eye. That and the admission of responsibility for the Republican Party's corruption did it for me. It's about time someone admitted something in politics! Oh, and the intimation that it's about the country and the individual citizen and not about the puppies and bunnies. That was good, too.

Pretty Boy or Old Grouch. Someone's proven his worth and integrity. Maybe Obama will, but now's not the time.

So Many Retractions....

Alright, so I have a few corrections to make regarding previous posts. Most recent--last night's--first: let me be clear that I was making an attempt at being tongue-in-cheek. We all know that we do things to have fun and do things outside our daily grind because they're fun and because they're outside our daily grind. Since everything has a price and because I'm still paying for the fun of the weekend and since it's in our nature to complain about the pain of paying the price for anything, the grumbling nature of the post seems to be more accentuated than intended. I had a good time! I'd do it again! (And please don't let my wife beat me for that post!)

Next retraction is regarding the Pero miracle cure post: I seem to have posted too quickly and without regard to another habit I had formed prior to the posting: placing a pinch of crushed barley under my tongue several times throughout the day. I had stopped that practice a couple weeks before I picked up the Pero habit. Now, given the tiny little tumors popping up on my hands again, it's time to restart the barley-chaw habit again. But don't expect me to give up the Pero. It's not as tasty as coffee, but has fewer side-effects...even the good ones, apparently.

Survivalist Guilt

Everyone knows about that strange psychological affliction survivors of traumatic events get called "Survivor's Guilt." I think I've discovered a new disease: Survivalist Guilt.

This morning at 11:30 I and my family returned home from a most...educational camping trip. First allow me to describe the events of the camping trip in some broad strokes.

Out of curiosity and because I love the convenience of the tools at hand, I decided to check the weather at the location of our annual camping trip. Saturday warm and clear. Sunday rain and cold. Monday more rain and more cold. We were getting up there on Saturday morning and planning on returning Monday.

I informed everyone (my wife's brother and his family) of my weather forecast findings. My wife had a very good point about my not exercising sufficient faith to prevent the weather from turning bad, but that's another post for another time.

Saturday was indeed nice. Kids went swimming in the nearby lake, excellent conversation with good friends, fun kayaking on the lake, some firearm practice (remarkably vindicating!), the scent of campfire and the twinge of mosquito bites. Sunday evening, Sunday night, Monday morning...not so nice. Rain, hail, more rain, and a bit more rain.

Turns out the warning on our tent's instruction manual was correct: under steady barrage of water, tent may leak. We awoke--or rather arose, considering no one slept all that much except the youngest ones--to quite the sodden mess. Wet bedding, soaked clothing, drenched campsite and one water-damaged book on loan from a good friend (the greater tragedy). And the greatest tragedy: my kids are all coming down with various ailments. One's coughing, one's complaining about a headache--which, incidentally, we dismissed yesterday as her fault for having eaten so much junk food and not drinking enough water, and now my head is pounding so hard it feel like my eyeballs are about to be crushed from the inside. Gotta love karma. Or poetic justice. Or the ignorant presuppositions of know-it-all parents dismissing a kid's concerns as childish and beneath notice.

The majority of Monday was spent packing up dripping camp gear in such a way as to minimize water-damaging our family vehicle, setting that same gear back up again, drying it off, tearing it back down and finally putting it away in the garage until the next occasion. The holiday effectively burned away with exhausting, unpleasant activities.

As I washed the stink of 3 days' sweat, campfire and mud off my body a few minutes ago I asked the question of myself again, as I often do after most camping trips. "Why do we do this again?" The trite answer is, "Because it's fun!" Come on. What about the above sounded fun? Well, except for swimming, kayaking and conversing--but even those are proving to have consequences that are difficult to qualify as "pleasant." The answer came unbidden: "Because we like to be reminded of how good we have it."

Of course that was not a satisfactory answer, considering that not many of us go around crushing our thumbs with hammers because it makes us more grateful for when all our digits are operating under factory specifications. That left the only other explanation I could dredge up: we do it because we feel guilty for our easy, mundane, catered, technologically-enhanced lives--lives that our ancestors were not able to enjoy because they lacked the tools and opportunities we have because they were too busy with the day-to-day tasks of surviving.

Given the amount of time we spent in attempts at mitigating the consequences of our communion with a Mother Nature who seems to revel in proving who the boss is, it's a fair wonder we're as advanced as we are. And thank God we are! Now time to go rest up from the rest and nurse everyone back to the health robbed from them by our rest and healing time.

Lessons From the Infant

Today, the family and I were out shopping at one of those giant stores that sell giant amounts of goods for giant prices--but which are smaller than they would be should the shopper buy the same amount of goods elsewhere and in not so giant volumes. The kids were hungry and getting quite rambunctious...probably because they were hungry. We stopped at the section of the store that has been set aside for serving pizza, shakes, and other delicious, deadly snacks.

I had the wee one in my arms, so my wife took care of ordering, buying, and drink filling. She placed a giant, fizzing cup of Mr. Pibb on the table in front of me and the wee one. She even brought over the Polish Dog and Sauerkraut. As she was asking me how much sauerkraut I wanted, the baby in my arms pulled the Mr. Pibb over into our laps.

Instantly my programming kicked in. You know, the error-filled, buggy programming that we get by watching others. "Well, Dad just got stuff spilled all over him and now he's pissed. Noted." The programming was accessing all the expected Sense-DoS nodes, prepping to flood the body with chemicals associated with anger and frustration. Then the boy in my lap started crying a pitiable cry of fear and confusion as his sensors and processes were overwhelmed by a sudden lap-full of ice-cold...something! The program runtime ended as though someone had tripped the breaker, kicked the power cord and nuked the electric grid (from orbit, of course) all at the same time. Suddenly I saw the situation for what it was: hilarious. The viral program had terminated unexpectedly and quite completely, and the system was better for it in every way.

New program running: "Something has happened. Something that means nothing. Ignore all previous programming and choose how to respond in the moment. Default response: laughter."

Golden Tripe

Watching Obama's acceptance speech, and being moved, I shook loose the shackles of his mesmerizing words and realized we were once again being sold a plate full of tripe.

Sure, the desires weren't tripe, but they were indeed trite, and the reverberations of the suggested solutions will ring throughout the nation for decades.

The trite: everyone should be treated fairly and with equality. We should help the down trodden. We should honor the families of troops. All families who have overcome difficulties should have respect (as should those who have not yet overcome difficulties and still giving it their all).

Who wouldn't buy into those noble goals? Who wouldn't want that? And who wouldn't love fluffy puppies and bunnies?

The tripe: consider the party's solution for making all those things happen. Consider the cost! And consider where those resources will be coming from. Us. Everyone. As it should be! The difference is that we should not all be coerced into doing the right thing through higher taxes and other benefits being ripped from our grasps through federal threats and bullying. We should simply do it because it's the right thing to do.

Petting puppies, loving bunnies and feeding poor, injured birds...everyone would love that until someone tells us that we must do it. Then it's not so fun anymore.

More tripe: pretty much every campaign promise made in the speech. Why's Obama think that the power of the Executive Branch can completely bypass and ignore the other Branches' powers and responsibilities? The president doesn't make the economy. The president doesn't control investments into alternative energy sources, etc. The president can certainly make strong suggestions and exercise influence over those who can help make the decisions. But to boldly state that the he will be solely responsible for the happiness of the puppies and bunnies is delusional and manipulative.

Now, as for McCain's choice for VP: nicely played. I just wish Palin hadn't already played the gender card...or at least not played it so openly. At least she could've played it a little more surreptitiously like Obama's been playing the race card.

A Look In a Mirrors

I just got back from watching the Mirrors movie. As always, I learned something new about me. Or more accurately, I confirmed something I had suspected about myself. It's all about the innocent.

As I watched the movie, I jumped at all the right places, cringed at all the appropriate gory parts. I even got a little misty at the more touching parts. Through it all, I felt this overtone of tension and fear that any Suspense/Thriller/Horror movie is supposed to evoke. That is until a child was injured. Then there was nothing but rage.

As I watch movies I tend to really put myself in the protagonists' positions. "What would I do if it were me?" It really makes for an intense movie experience. Throughout Mirrors, there was quite a bit that I would not have done that the protagonists did, but as I projected myself into their situations, there was that overtone of fear that I mentioned earlier. And when the child was injured, all fear evaporated. There was only rage--the deadly, intense, focused determination to destroy--to annihilate--any and all things related to that which harmed the child. Mugger, psycho, demon, devil...all will quail and fall in the chaotic glow of my righteous, indignant wrath. Can't kill a demon? Watch me. Impossible to slay a devil? Tell that to its screaming, writhing, sulfurous body just before it's thrust back into the bowels of Hell.

I know, I know. It's only a movie. But hey, you can still learn something real about yourself, even if the teacher is a fantasy. Lesson: my paternal instinct is way out of control. And it's not something I'm likely to change. Because I don't want to. Because I'm right.

An Education from the Past

With all due respect and gratitude to the class presidency...I just got home from my 20 year high school reunion. As you may know from my twitter account I'm clearly not one that felt or feels a need to hold onto the past. You would probably quite correctly guess that I was one of those kids that sat back with arms folded in pep rallies and assemblies, desperately wishing the event would end so they could get back to class and get the day over with. Often I sat back in the cafeteria and watched all the popular kids interacting and getting all involved in everything high school. I was invisible. Oh sure I'd interact whenever someone talked to me, but really, when did that ever happen? I never fit in. I had lots of acquaintances...very few friends. And I was alright with that.

Back to the reunion... One person talked with me, one of the "geeks" of the school. I always liked John. Not that I ever talked with him much. We exchanged the pleasantries, the gratuitous, "What're you doing now?" and we went our separate ways.

My wife and I sat at the far table with our backs to the wall, so we could watch everyone. No one talked with us. Of course we never gave them the chance. I felt uncomfortable staring at the yearbook badges we were wearing for fear of unintended insult ("What, I've changed that much!?"), and by doing so I may spark a conversation with someone I never really cared to converse with. Anyway, after a walk down memory lane led by the class president and a speech from a prestigious teacher, we invisibly sneaked out and drove home.

On the way home I shared with my wife something that came as a shock to me. I finally--finally--after 20 years understood what "school spirit" meant.

I told her I had always equated "school spirit" with "class spirit." I was never any good at making or keeping friends, so what did I care about my class? In my mind, the Class of '88 was a bunch of the cool, social kids that cared entirely too much about what was going on for a mere four years of their lives. Me? I just wanted to be left alone to do my school work, go home, and watch some cartoons...maybe play a video game and work on my computer. The occasional date was nice, too (though to be honest, those rarely came, considering I was quite obviously a rather socially backward wall flower). The future would take care of itself, much like the present does, so don't get too caught up in any of it.

We get education from the strangest places, and imagine the irony that I got it from a teacher! ...Keeping in mind this was at my 20-year reunion. Mr. Crump talked a bit about the fact that our high school was going to be celebrating its 100th year of service soon. He invited us all to join its year-long celebration. I considered going! Me! The one who couldn't care less about school spirit! That is when the distinction became very clear. School spirit is about the institution; it's about the faculty, the staff, and perhaps your friends through whose care you pass during those fleeting four years. It's not about how much bonding you do with your classmates...though that can help. It's about the legacy your brief stint creates for future alumni to appreciate and contribute to. It's about appreciating the legacy your predecessors and the current staff added to the virtual blink of an eye you are there.

My wife said, "Yeah, when they built that high school near our house, I was bummed that our kids wouldn't be able to go to our high school."

That's exactly how I felt when I learned a new high school was being built nearer us than our old high school. When I realized I felt that way a few years ago, I questioned it. Why would I feel that way? What do I care about people that I really didn't care about? What do I care about where my kids have pep rallies and social awkwardness? Tonight it came clear. Because there is, was, and always will be a little, tiny (albeit invisible) piece of me in that old high school. There will always be a love for that place, the faculty, and now new-found respect for the class presidency...and maybe even for those "flighty social butterflies" that got it long before I did.

Oh, and when you go to your next reunion, a little note from those who know: talk to those on whom you had a crush--even if you're with your spouse--or you'll regret it. Loose ends always need tying up.

Crazy Kids--As It Should Be

I recently received that email about the kid getting stolen and found in the restroom with the head 1/2 shaved and a disguise kit lying on the floor. As with just about every email I receive, I looked it up in snopes. Sho' nuff, it's fake. But it still got me thinking. Given my kids' vocal strengths, and finally the okay to go ape-poop in every way, their would-be kidnappers would have their hands full...deafened, injured and otherwise embarrassed from unwanted attention. Finally...someone else gets to share in my every-day joy.

What do we tell our children? "If a bully is picking on you, just ignore him." Okay, if a mugger is threatening to cut you, just ignore him. "If a bully is picking on you, tell a teacher." Right, and if you're being chased down a dark alley, scream into the night. I'm sure you'll be fine. See where this is going?

Now, what have you told your kids about if someone is trying to steal them? "Run the other direction!" That's good, unless they run into another, worse situation. Tell them WHERE to run. "Fight back." There's a good one! Finally! Now they know what to do! But wait...what's "fight back"? Have you defined for them what "fight back" means? As may not come as a surprise...I have. "If someone is trying to steal you, you scream, kick, bite, scratch, elbow, knee, head butt, pull hair...and all in as sensitive parts as possible."

Be warned: my kids have gotten the okay to fight back. And when I say "fight back" I mean go absolutely nuts in attempts to drop the bad guy and get away. As it should be. Tonight's practice session should be fun. Incentive to check the integrity of my sparring gear....

"Out-terrorize the Terrorist"

What's the best way to cure a bully? Totally disrupt your way of life to avoid him? That can work for a while. Tell the teacher? That's only temporary--and often causes an escalation of bullying. One way to cure a bully: trounce him.

You don't have to like it, but when all other avenues fail, you're left with one last path. So if you're going to walk it, walk it with gusto. Not the most ideal of situations, but if someone is harming you (intending to harm, threatening harm, etc.) he has placed himself in exactly the same situation that he put you in. He reaches for you, you strike his arm and hurt it. He pulls a gun to threaten you, you pull yours and fire it.

When the 1000 years of peace finally magically take hold on the world, we won't have to worry about such things. Until then, bully, mugger, rapist, murderer--they're all the same. And when they put themselves in that role, they put themselves in a dangerous situation. Make them proud of how much better you can play their part until the situation's over. Then change roles; go home, love your family and friends and live a stress-free life.