Bongo Tomfoolery

Tub tales

2011-08-08T21:55:00.007-05:00

Jenny was giving Tate his bath the other night and the following exchange took place.

Tate: Mommy, close your eyes.*

Jenny: Um, okay.

Long pause.

T: Okay, open your eyes.

Tate appears to be sitting in the tub, exactly as before.

J: What's up?

T: Okay, when you closed your eyes, you did NOT see me pee in the tub.

J: (exasperated) Tate, did you pee in the tub?!

T: Did you see me pee in the tub?

*Tate is always doing the "Close your eyes" trick. Usually you do it and he makes a car or a dinosaur "appear." Not always. But there is nothing unusual about the "Close your eyes" request in and of itself.

Oh yeah, I have a daughter now

2011-05-18T16:34:00.003-05:00

That's her. Miss Lillian Jane Robertson.
Practically born with a smile on her face. Or with gas.

Probably gas.

Snow Day 2011

2011-02-04T14:44:00.006-06:00

Jenny took this great picture of Tate and I horsing around in our back yard yesterday, Feb. 4. I just wanted to post it because -- besides just being a terrific photo -- I know these kinds of days are limited. But this proves that at one time things really were just this awesome.

I'm a reporter again

2010-09-14T11:54:00.005-05:00

For posterity, I'd like to just update this and let my loyal fanbase of perhaps two people know that I am now a reporter for the Fort Worth Business Press. I cover banking and finance mostly, but will also dabble in the legal, accounting, economic and city business beats, too.

Fort Worth is a great old city, full of depth and history and not without a little dirt under its nails -- very much like my old hometown of Memphis, minus the hilarious ineptitude and middling corruption of the city government and the generally poor service at fast food restaurants.

It's good to be back in the journalism saddle again.

Anyway, gotta go. Hopefully, I'll update this a little more going forward.

Pronunciation matters

2010-05-14T10:00:00.014-05:00

Lots of 2-year-olds have trouble with the 'er' sound. The 'el' sound too, for that matter.

I'm guessing that 'er' and 'el' are the toughest sounds to reproduce for young talkers. I don't have any hard data in front of me, but I've heard enough jibberish from my son and other 2s to know this is the case. It's at least common enough that Sesame Street has a character, Baby Bear, who has a similar speech pattern.

When speaking, Tate usually just skips those sounds altogether, to mostly cute effect.

'Pork' becomes pok.

'Dora' becomes Doa.

'Bird' becomes bud.

'Blue' becomes boo.

You get the idea. In fact, if you ever want to imitate a toddler talking, the best way is to just leave out the r's and l's and speak normally. Not sure why such knowledge would ever come in handy, but maybe you could pretend what would it would sound like if toddlers ran your next meeting. Or maybe you experience that already. I digress.

Anyway, Tate's underdeveloped speech occasionally makes for some embarrassing moments. Like when we were at the Ole Miss baseball game and Tate excitedly pointed to the large flags out behind center field. "Look at the f--s, dah-dee! Look at those big f--s! That's a lot of f--s!"

At least LSU was on the field at the time.

And then there's this morning, when I'm teaching Tate new colors on his way to school.

"What color is that truck, Tate?"

"White!"

"Right! What color is that car, Tate?"

"Geen!"

"Right! What color is that doggie, Tate?"

"Ya-woh"

"Right! What color is that car, Tate?"

"Back! Dats a dah-dee coa (car)! Yeah!"

"Right! what kind of car is daddy's car?

"Mustang! It go fast!"

Tate loves my car almost as much as I do.

Now we're pulling into the daycare. Other moms in their minivans are there, unloading their kids, walking them inside. I go and get Tate out of the back. He's still fired up about colors and cars. As I'm pulling him out of his car seat, I ask him "What color is daddy's car?"

"Ummmmm..."

"Gray!" I tell him -- and really, I sort of knew as the words left my mouth that this was...bad.

"GAY!" he shouts. "Dah-dee has a GAY MUSTANG!"

The mom in the minivan closest to us grinned, which, unfortunately, Tate saw. "That's a GAY coa!" he said to her, pointing at my pavement-scorching, 340-horsepower, 4.6 liter, high performance-tuned, gray Mustang GT.

"Really?" she said, through stifled giggles. "That's a very nice car, isn't it?"

"Yeah! It's gay and go fast!"

He went on to tell another mom and her kid the same thing before we even got into the school. Next time I'll know to tell him the color of daddy's car is 'awesome'.

But I digress.

Jennycat returns!

2010-04-13T10:37:00.004-05:00

UPDATE: News of Jennycat's demise has been greatly exaggerated. She returned home safe and sound the morning of April 13. My wife spotted her sitting in the window to the back porch as she was about to leave for work. She was completely fine.

Upon being let in, Jennycat dropped her little suitcase at the door, which now had stickers from states all over the country on it, brushed past my wife and went straight to the kitchen, where she began making a tuna sandwich.

Astonished, my wife blurted out "Jennycat! You're home! Where've you been?"

"Whuth?" was the muffled reply, spoken through a mouthful of tuna and rye bread.

It is good to have her home again.

Jennycat 1992-2010

2010-04-12T01:57:00.010-05:00

My cat got out of the house two nights ago and hasn't been seen since. It's the longest she's ever been away, and while I suppose there is a chance she could turn up in the next day or so, I kind of know in my heart she's not coming back.

She disappeared Friday night, after getting out of the house somehow. At one point that night we were upstairs watching a movie and I thought I heard her growling. At first I wasn't sure about the sound, then I heard it again and finally a third time. I told Jenny to pause the movie and for everyone to get quiet -- but I didn't hear anything after that. I wasn't too concerned because since we moved to Jenny's parents' house, she has growled plenty of times at the family dog. I thought this might just be more of the same, and when I didn't hear anything else, I figured whatever spat she might've been having with Eddie had been settled.

Around 6 p.m. on Saturday Jenny's mom asked if anyone had seen the cat. I suddenly realized I hadn't seen her all day, and she hadn't been in bed with me that night (she usually is). Then I remembered what I had heard the night before, and my heart sank.

We've looked everywhere. I have wandered the streets calling for her -- in the same silly, high-pitched call I've always used for her -- to no avail. We put up signs and actually got one call, but nothing came of it. I have searched every square inch around the house and there is no trace of her. She's just gone.

Jennycat -- I named her after Forrest Gump's girlfriend and actually had her almost two years before I met my wife, Jennyperson -- was at least 2 years old when she chose me at the Lafayette County animal shelter in 1994. I was 25 and a sophomore at Ole Miss (remember, I stated late b/c of the Navy). She was a small, delicate, sweet cat. She always followed me, into every room, and anytime I sat still long enough, she would jump up in my lap.

She followed me everywhere else, too. She had been the one constant in my life through at least 11 moves -- from apartments to duplexes to new houses to the in-laws' -- through seven towns in three states. And though she was small (she never weighed more than 10 pounds in her life) she was a hearty cat; I never had to take her to vet for an illness. Not a single time.

I knew she was old. I had been thinking about the day I wouldn't have her anymore. I had always just assumed I'd be with her when she left -- this is not how imagined it would be, and I'm heartbroken.

I wish I could be more clever or more interesting, but I just don't have it in me right now. I really loved that cat, and I will never forget the joy she brought me.

The Mule

2010-03-09T01:04:00.004-06:00

This was a design I created as a suggestion for the new mascot at Ole Miss. I created this about six years ago -- back during the last brouhaha about changing the mascot at Ole Miss.

That didn't end well for the administration, so Colonel Reb was put in exile -- but, for the time being, he earned a stay of execution.

His days are numbered now, however, and the administration is opening the search again for a suitable replacement. The mule was my suggestion then and remains so today, so I sent them a pitch and linked to this image. It's here because I needed a place to link to.

If you want to know more about why I think a mule is a good choice for mascot -- besides the fact that it's original, is easily marketed to kids, is unoffensive, is a hard-working and noble animal and has a proud Mississippi history in peacetime and in battle -- read this story from the Sports Illustrated archives.

Single Dad Day 3: In-laws are cool

2010-01-09T10:26:00.010-06:00

There is starting to be no point to these blog updates. The "single dad" ones, anyway.

The thing is, I'm usually only strapped with solo parent duty for a day or two on those occasions when Jenny goes out of town for a few days. One of the blessings of living in lovely ~~Upper Mexico~~ Texas is that we are always close to relatives. Grandparents, more specifically.

Whenever Jenny leaves town I can count on a call or email from Mama Mia -- usually before Jenny's even boarded the plane -- volunteering for Tate duty for anywhere from an afternoon to as long as Jenny's gone. This is the very definition of a win-win scenario. This week Tate is celebrating the birthday of his great grandmother, Mama June, my favorite Republican.

So as it stands today, I'm going to be able to watch all the playoff football I want without worrying about having to shoehorn Dora the Explorer into the second and third quarters.

I had Tate by myself on Thursday night and only saw about half of the BCS National Championship game. I spent the other half watching Dora fend off Swiper, which, as it turns out, was probably a more competitive contest anyway.

Sorry, Longhorn fans. I was pulling for you guys.

Anyway, since I don't have much in the way of Tater shenanigans to report on, and since I still don't feel like getting all political up in here -- all things considered, Obama's doing a remarkably average job -- I thought I'd leave you with a silly video.

Sometimes it's just fun to yell.

Single Dad 3.0

2010-01-07T10:20:00.005-06:00

My wife has left me. Again.

She's on her way right now to Mexico, leaving the Tot and I and the Dallas Winterpocalypse behind.

She'll be in Cabo San Lucas for the next five days, scouting the local scene in advance of another wild executive party that she will leave me for -- again -- in the spring or summer.

Stay tuned. More blog posts to follow.

Style review

2009-12-12T09:16:00.016-06:00

Tate is in another classic Jenny outfit today.

She continues to insist on dressing Tate like a fop whenever possible. So I have always tried to counter these extremes when I can. Let's take a look at what my wife thinks a little ~~girl~~ boy should look like and what I think a little boy should look like.

Jenny:

Rob:

Jenny:

Rob:

Jenny:

Rob:

Jenny:

Rob:

(the red shoes were Jenny's idea)

Jenny:

Rob:

Jenny:

Rob:

(BTW, this is one of my top 10 favorites of me and Tate.)

Jenny:

Okay, I'm including this one because, in the spirit of fairness, if I'm going to include one of my all-time favorite photos of Tate and me, I should include one of my all-time faves of Jenny and Tate, which this is. It looks like I dressed him that day, but Jenny may have had a hand in the selection of the critter pants.

Rob:

Anyway, I think you get the idea. I occasionally worry about the wrath we will no doubt incur from our son when he is 13 and these photos wind up in the hands of his fellow 13-year-olds. I suppose he could just wind up liking the dandy look.

If that happens, at least we'll all know where he gets his influences. Thank goodness my mother never dressed me like that; I shudder to think think of how I could've turned out.

Jenny didn't get the memo

2009-11-07T07:09:00.010-06:00

Editor's note: I started this last week and never finished it.

Last ~~night~~ week has to rank as one of the great tragedies of my wife’s short career as a parent.

No, Tate wasn’t sick or injured in any way. Nothing was lost or stolen. We’re all just fine today, except for the regret that Jenny will likely carry with her for years, I’m guessing.

Last ~~night~~ week Castle Mound Montessori School had their Fall Festival. Jenny told me about it a couple of days beforehand and even showed me the flyer, which described a night of games, prizes, refreshments and fellowship with the other kids and parents at the school. Pretty standard festival fare, if you ask me. Buried somewhere in the middle of the information: “Non-scary costumes optional.”

This is where I’m going to detour for a moment into a very short rant about the political correctness or racial sensitivity or religious tolerance or whatever socio-political anxiety it is that leads decision-makers at community institutions to change the names of otherwise well-known events, holidays and celebrations to generic or seasonal approximations of their former titles so as to avoid hurting as many feelings as possible. It irritates me. As a card-carrying liberal I get it, but I still roll my eyes whenever I see it happening.

My point is, this “Fall Festival” was actually a freakin’ Halloween Party. We just missed the code words embedded in the flyer that should have tipped us off – especially the part about costumes.

As we all know by now, my wife doesn't need a holiday (a real one, at least) to put Tate in a costume. The poor kid has looked like a contestant on Let's Make a Deal most of his life (by the way, did you know they were bringing that show back?). So you can imagine Jenny's shock and utter disappointment when we arrived at the Fall Festival and every kid in the building was wearing a costume.

Except Tate, that is. Tate had on his Boo shirt, which was more coincidental than anything. But in light of the occasion, it could have been mistaken for a rather pathetic attempt at costume. Jenny knew this, and her mortification was palpable.

Not that Tate noticed, of course. After being a little freaked out at first by the crowd and noise and oddly-dressed people, Tate got right into party mode and began leading us around the facility, playing games with the other kids and generally being his social self. It's funny how preschoolers just don't care about the way a person looks (or how they look themselves). Social stigmas don't exist at that age – it's only later that kids learn to be judgmental – so Tate thought nothing of playing ring toss with Boba Fett and a bottle of ketchup.

Meanwhile, Jenny begged me to let her drive home and get Tate's seal costume. I refused to let her go, mainly because I didn't want to be left alone at the party chasing after the Tot, and because by the time she made it home, found the costume, drove back, found a place to park and hiked from there to the party, It'd probably be time to leave anyway.

So we stayed for about an hour – Tate had a great time – and headed home around 7 p.m. It didn't help matters that Jenny had signed up beforehand to help clean up after the party, which meant that she had to go back to Castle Mound later and face the teachers – teachers who now thought she was terrible parent, no doubt.

So it was a missed opportunity. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but still – this was like Albert Pujols whiffing on an underhanded pitch. Get 'em next year, sweetheart.

Bad start to the weekend

2009-10-08T20:41:00.001-05:00

Well the Cardinals lost in seriously awful fashion tonight.

I watched every pitch because I was keeping score at home (one of my favorite home-alone activites). Matt Holliday dropped a pretty routine fly ball that would have been the final out. Instead, the Dodgers deliver a 2-out rally and win. Three happy hours of my life turns into a soul-crushing waste of time.

SOOO...to get my mind off the Cardinals, I start to pack for the Ole Miss-Alabama game. I need to know what the weather will be like.

Just checked and it looks like I'll be driving in the rain for about 8-9 hours tomorrow, including my leg from Dallas to Jackson, and Joel's leg from Jackson to Oxford.

Gameday forecast? Thunderstorms. Followed by more rain. High in the upper 50s. Basically just cold, wet, and generally shitty. I'm packing waders. And some Jim Beam.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I've been looking forward to attending this game for about 10 months, and it's going to be a freaking monsoon. Awesome. Just awesome.

And I miss my kid.

I suppose if Ole Miss wins it'll be worth it. I hope so.

Home Inspection

2009-10-08T11:57:00.000-05:00

Sitting here at the computer upstairs while a half-dozen people downstairs are looking my home up one side and down the other for flaws, problems and potential problems. They've been at it now for two hours.

It is an awkward and invasive feeling; like getting a physical from a team of strangers.
I don't like any of it.

The only positive is that when it is over, like a physical, we will know exactly what our house's condition is: What needs fixing now, what can wait, and what it's going to take to sell it, if we can.

Oh, have I mentioned before that we're trying to sell our house? Yep. With luck, I'll be updating the blog from some new digs in a few weeks, even though I HATE HATE HATE moving.

Single Dad - Day 5

2009-09-11T19:02:00.000-05:00

Not much to report today. All I did was take the Tot to school this morning. He was in his usual great mood. Many thanks to Mama Mia and Big Guy for taking Tate duty this weekend while I ~~play in the DFW Ole Miss Club's Fall Golf Classic~~ watch football on my couch as it rains cats and dogs outside.

So let's hear it for the Dodsons! They're a little old school, but they really love Tate and patiently put up with their daughter's crazy liberal husband. They're good people.

Single Dad - Day 4

2009-09-10T19:21:00.000-05:00

Just saw the forecast: It's going to rain all day Saturday.

So much for my Ole Miss golf tournament.
I hate Texas.

Tate was cute today. We wrestled around and ate pizza together.

Single Dad - Day 3

2009-09-10T00:01:00.001-05:00

Another pretty good day. Tate and I didn't spend as much quality time together today as I might have liked thanks to the demands of my fantasy football league. Our draft was tonight, so I had to stick to the computer fairly closely for about an hour while I made my crappy selections.

My team, the DFW Mud Islanders, won the championship two years ago. I'll be the first to say it was a fluke, but hey, I got my ring (t-shirt, actually) and they'll never be able to take it away from me.

I also got paid -- about $200 -- which means I can basically play for free for the next few years (playing in fantasy leagues does cost actual money, like about $40/year mainly for franchise fees and player transactions, etc.).

Anyway, I wound up depending a little more heavily on television than I normally would. It really just meant that Tate got some bonus Wonder Pets adventures. I didn't hear him complaining. Personally, I think Ming-Ming and Tuck are sharing cages IF you know what I mean. Linny, meanwhile, is clearly gay.
But I digress.

We had McDonald's for dinner. I know McD's isn't exactly health food, but he did have apple slices and milk with his nuggets and later had about half of a banana, so it wasn't like I was pouring poison down his throat, either. Again, I didn't hear him complaining.

I would cook -- we have some pasta and some salad and some canned veggies -- but I just don't have the time or inclination to clean up the whole kitchen afterwards (did I mention we're selling our house so I have to keep it spotless? Yeah. Sucks.); I have plenty of cleaning and straightening to do every night as it is.

Meanwhile, Jenny called me from Hawaii today to say that she was eating fresh pineapple on a beach where some villagers were cooking a pig for her. Later -- after the massage -- they were going to throw a virgin into a volcano.

I have to go clean the turds out of the cat box now.

Single Dad - Day 2

2009-09-08T19:17:00.000-05:00

Not a bad day. Knock on wood.

A long day, though. Cute as they may often be, 2-year-olds are high maintenance creatures. At least mine is. Everything is frustratingly close to being not-so-high-maintenance, too, which means I have to maintain a little more self-discipline.

Here's what I mean: A 2-year-old can climb up on a bed, or a chair, or a sofa, and its tempting to think he can get himself down without slipping and clunking his head. You may even be tempted to leave him on said bed, chair or sofa for a few moments to go hang up your shirt.

This would be a poor decision. Two-year-olds can come up with a hundred ways to climb onto something, but invariably arrive at only one way to get down from something: gravity.

A 2-year-old can also practically bathe himself, and is quite comfortable playing with his toys and swirling around in the tub without you messing with him. You may even be tempted to leave him in said tub for a few moments to go get his PJs out for bedtime.

Again, this would be a poor decision. And actually, a really dangerous one. As has been documented by my employer on a number of occasions, a child can drown in an inch of water, and it only takes a few moments (for an interactive guide on drowning prevention, go here).

Before my in-laws have a heart attack -- NO, Tate did NOT have any falling or drowning issues tonight. Not even close. He's fine, I promise. I'm just saying this to illustrate the high level of alertness you have be at at all times with a 2-year-old when you're the only grownup in the house. They are fast, intelligent, and quite capable of lulling you into a sense of security...just before they wonder out of your sight and make a break for the stairs.

This is all to say that after two days I'm pretty tired. It doesn't help that I have to keep the house showroom clean, either. That was not a necessity last time, and it's pain in the ass because I basically have to wait till he's asleep to get the cleaning done.

Still, I did get to spend a lot of time with the Tot tonight. His new thing is making trains. He has no actual trains, mind you -- he just makes them out of anything he can get his hands on; cars, books, cups, raspberries -- whatever. He lines stuff up and then yells "CHOO-CHOOO!" It's cool.

Meanwhile, Jenny is having a rough time of her own in Hawaii. She texted me today to say she had spent the morning snorkeling and swimming with manta rays.

Manta rays.

I gotta go finish unloading the dishwasher.

I am Single Dad -- Again

2009-09-07T04:33:00.002-05:00

Jenny's job takes her many places.

It was only a few months ago that it took her to Mexico. It actually took both of us to Texas. Now it has taken her to Hawaii for nine days (the Hawaiians like to use a little apostrophe when they spell the name of their state, which I find pretentious and will not do here). It will then take her to Washington D.C. one day after she gets back, so I really have about 12 days without her.

That is a looong freakin' time to be a single parent to a 2-year-old, people. Yeah, I know there are plenty of single parents out there who do this every day, yada yada yada. Whatever. It's a long time for me, because -- as has been documented on this blog before -- I typically leave the micromanaging part of parenthood to Jenny. I cut the yard and clean the pool and take out the trash while Jenny does *most* of the diaper-changing, bathing, dressing and general day-to-day maintenance associated with the Tot.

I, on the other hand, play with him a lot. It's a good gig.

Anyway, I'm going to try to keep another running chronicle of all the fun. Last time there was plenty of drama, which I hope to avoid this time around. I have stocked up on Elmo and Thomas the Tank Engine DVDs to keep Tate in a fairly vegetative state for as long as possible on weeknights so I can have time to blog for you. I also have a liter of grape-flavored Benadryl when the DVDs stop working.

Just kidding. It's more like a pint.

Oh, in case you have noticed the time stamp on this post (I started this at about 4:30 a.m. Labor Day morning), I dropped Tate off with his grandparents yesterday before the Ole Miss-Memphis game and watched the game by myself at home, where sometime in the third quarter I fell asleep. I just woke up at about 3 a.m.

Both the Rebels and I have yet to get into mid-season form.

Anyway, I'm picking up Tate later this morning and the fun begins. Lets Do It.

UPDATE: Thank you, Texas, for being so miserably hot that I couldn't take my son outdoors today. With the exception of a short trip to the grocery store, we stayed at the house. Tate has pretty much spent this entire summer indoors, because it so freakishly, stupidly, crazily hot.

My wife's car stays parked in our driveway, exposed, making it all but unusable for any trips shorter than a 20 minute drive because that's about how long it takes her German-engineered air conditioning to finally start to get the cabin cool, even at full blast. So we have to use my car for afternoon trips, which is inconvenient and inefficient (but looks awesome) and just a general pain in the hind quarters.

In other news, Tate was really cute and mostly fun today.

Is ANY health insurance a good idea?

2009-08-17T13:49:00.000-05:00

While there is a battle raging over the "public option," a kind of Medicare for all, there is so much disinformation and so many outright lies being spewed into the air, there are some fundamental truths that are being lost. Here are a few facts for anyone who still cares about facts.

There are roughly four ways countries can run their health systems, to wit:

Nationalized medicine
National health insurance
Regulated fee-for-service medicine
Unregulated fee-for-service medicine

Some countries have one or the other. The U.S. has all four.

First, there is nationalized medicine. This is what they have in the UK. The government runs the hospitals and pays the doctors, who are government employees. Despite what some town hall goons are yelling at the tops of their collective lungs, none of the five bills floating around Congress propose anything remotely like this -- even though we're already doing it. Our own Veterans Administration runs something pretty close to this, with government-run hospitals and care. While some failures (e.g., at Walter Reed hospital) have been well documented, few veterans are calling for the system to be chucked out as socialism in disguise.

Second, there is national health insurance. This is what Canada has. Canadian doctors and hospitals are private (or run by local or provincial governments). Basically, the system is fee-for-service, but with everyone covered by the national government. In other words, the insurance system has been nationalized but the medical system itself is largely private. What the government does is pay the bills. Medicare works like this.

Third, there are countries where the system is entirely private (e.g. Switzerland, as Paul Krugman pointed out in the NYT). Another example is The Netherlands, which Krugman didn't mention but which illustrates model 3 very clearly. The government's role there is largely to set the ground rules and make sure they are enforced. In a nutshell, the key rules are:

Nobody forces any company to offer health insurance. They do it only if they can make a profit on it.

Health insurance companies must offer a basic plan covering a list of government-mandated costs (doctors, hospitals, etc.), and they can't use tiny fine print to explain that some procedures are covered only when the operation is performed by a barber-surgeon using leeches.

Companies must insure anybody who shows up for the same price, regardless of medical history

All companies operate nationally, set their own prices, and compete on price

There is an individual mandate; anyone not insured must pay a tax of about what the basic plan costs

For items not covered (e.g., alternative medicine), companies can do whatever they want

Employers can bargain with companies to get small (e.g., 10%) discounts for their employees

The fact that all companies operate nationally and employers play only a small role means there is real competition, which provides something of a brake on premiums. The Massachusetts health system is similar to this.

Fourth, there is the fully free-market based system, where individuals, insurance companies, and health providers can pretty much do whatever they want to. Most of the U.S. falls under this regime.

Changing the the paradigm

With all the noise about the public option, almost no one asks the most fundamental question of all: "Is insurance even the right model to think about for health care?" At least not until David Goldhill wrote a must-read article in The Atlantic. Goldhill's point is that the purpose of insurance is to pool a large number of people together and get them to pay small premiums to cover a catastrophic event that will not happen to most of them. As an example, car insurance covers the costs of accidents, which most people don't have very often. No company offers full automotive insurance that covers accidents, gas, routine maintenance, parking fees, new tires, and all other automotive-related costs. Instead, individuals buy these other items on the open market and as a result tend to look at the price and quality of the products and services closely. Fire insurance is another example of true insurance -- pooled risk against an unlikely event.

Goldhill argues that the fundamental problem with the U.S. health system is that since consumers largely do not pay for their own medical expenses, they don't care how much they cost. This simple fact leads to excessive costs, bloated bureaucracies, and inefficient delivery. Consumers think that medical services are free, since some distant and much-hated insurance company is paying for most of them, so they never weigh need vs. cost.

True reform might go something like this: Employers simply get out of the health insurance business altogether and give the $12,000 or so they currently spend per employee on insurance as more salary. The government enacts laws like The Netherlands has to keep insurance companies honest and make them compete nationally, and then people go out and buy insurance on this newly competitive market. No public option is needed. If the government chooses as a matter of public policy to subsidize health care, then the first $12,000 (or some other amount) anyone spends on health care could be tax deductible, and direct subsidies could be given to poor people (health stamps, sort of like food stamps) to enable them to pay their medical bills.

The intention would be to have health insurance cover only catastrophic illnesses with normal medical costs (seeing family doctors and specialists or short hospital stays) being paid out of the $12,000 raise now-covered employees get. All of a sudden, people care about how much that MRI costs. Goldhill describes how when his wife needed an MRI, multiple hospitals refused to tell him the cost. If consumers were paying for things like this out of pocket, you bet they would be telling. Many would be advertising their prices.

Could something like this work? Goldhill talks about LASIK (eye surgery that eliminates the need for glasses). This procedure is almost never covered and there is vigorous free market for it. The cost has dropped ten-fold since it was introduced as clinics are forced to truly compete. If all medical providers had to compete for consumers' business, prices would be driven down, too. The government's main job here would be to certify providers to make sure they met high medical standards and publish the results. Getting a "D" rating wouldn't be good for business and providers would act accordingly.

Goldhill's main point is that all the incentives are wrong now so we need to rethink the whole idea of "insurance" as the model (except for catastrophic illness, which is like having a car accident or your house burning down).

None of the bills in Congress attack the problems of bad incentives and the customer being insulated from the cost of what he is demanding. As a result, the percentage of GDP being spent on medical care is only likely to increase and become even less sustainable.

About those "Death Panels"

One issue Goldhill doesn't discuss (because it is totally taboo) but is crucial to the debate is the imaginary "death panels" Sarah Palin and Chuck Grassley are against. A huge amount of money is currently being spent to keep Grandma, who is 85 and has Alzheimer's, alive. Families want no expense spared to give her a couple more months--since they are not paying for it. Suppose Goldhill's system were implemented and Grandma, or more likely, her children and grandchildren, had to decide how much expensive care she was going to get--knowing that some or all of the care was coming out of their expected inheritance. It is likely that in many cases 85-year-olds with Alzheimer's would not be getting quadruple bypass operations. The family wouldn't stand for it if they were footing (part of) the bill. They would be making god-like judgments about quality of life vs. cost and probably in many cases would be a lot stricter than any imaginary government death panels would be.

If you have gotten this far, now go read the article. Agree or disagree, it certainly raises some key points about whether insurance is the right model here.

A very hard weekend

2009-07-13T19:00:00.000-05:00

This was a hard weekend.

Not because of anything bad, necessarily. It was a great weekend in many respects. I got a lot of yard work completed; we kept the house from getting too messy; we went swimming as a family in our own pool; I got the grill going again and we had some great meals without ever going out to eat. Jenny and I even managed to sneak in a movie and a little wine, which was nice. Well, the wine was nice.

And Tate? Well, Tate was just at his curious, cute, affectionate best. No screaming fits of any consequence* this weekend; just a lot of playing and laughter and learning. He's growing up so fast – he can say more words than I can count now, and every day he surprises us with something we've never heard or seen him do before.

And he's such a sweet little boy. He loves to hug (he hugs everything – me, Jenny, his grandparents, pets, toys, cell phones, remote controls, food – everything) and almost always says 'thank you' and 'please' and 'bye bye' – even to strangers.

He loves to climb and run and jump and play with balls and toy cars and his junior golf clubs. Yeah, he gets into stuff and we have to keep a pretty close eye on him, but that's no chore; he's fun to watch.

This is why it was such a hard weekend. I was beginning to miss Tate Sunday night, simply knowing that I wouldn't have another great time with him like this one for another five days. How much would I miss in those five days? How many new words? How many new experiences? How many smiles and how many tears?

How many hugs?

Friday is Tate's last day at the daycare center he's been at since he could barely crawl. We have had a positive overall experience there. Tate has made at least one real friend – or as close to a real friend as a 2-year-old can have, I suppose – and it's made the switch that much harder for us. This daycare isn't perfect, but it has the comforting familiarity of home, and you can't put a price on that. Plus – and this is a huge plus – it had cameras that allowed us to check in on Tate whenever we wanted to. I have spent many a late afternoon watching him from my desk at work. That's going to be very hard to give up.

Still, the Montessori School he's going to is fantastic. It has instructors with degrees in childhood behavior, the latest child-learning gadgets and curriculum, a Julliard-trained music teacher, an indoor gym, a computer center and a helicopter pad for flight instruction and medical emergencies.

Okay I made that last part up.

They have a runway, not a helo pad.

The thing is, as enriching and wonderful and fulfilling as this school may be, I so wish he wasn't going. I wish I could say we were bringing Tate home. That's what made this such a hard weekend; it was such a great weekend.

*Okay, we did have some issues at Outback, but that was it.

The Tot is learning to swim. Well...

2009-06-25T22:52:00.000-05:00

Jenny has been taking Tate to swimming lessons after work at the local YMCA this week.

I went to see them on Wednesday and promptly disrupted everything (as soon as Tate saw me he stopped paying attention to the instructor and just started pointing and yelling "Da-DEE! Da-DEE!") so I had to leave the poolside area and watch from inside the building.

Not sure if what I saw would qualify as a "swimming lesson" since there is no swimming involved right now. Tate isn't even 2 yet, so these appointments are more about getting him acquainted with the water -- something he's never had a problem with -- and learning some basic paddling (more like splashing) motions.

Tate's coming along, but on the first day Jenny told me about how they tried to use a ball to get him to sort of "crawl" in the water. They take the ball and float it about 10 feet away, and, since Tate LOVES balls, he starts screaming and pointing at it "Ball! Ball! Ball!" while Jenny holds him up in the water on his stomach so he can "crawl" toward it.

Only Tate won't crawl. He just keeps shouting "Ball! Ball!" like everyone around him is some kind of idiot for not noticing the ball floating away like Wilson. Meanwhile Jenny is saying "You're gonna have to swim to it, Tate; c'mon Tate, swim." Whereupon Tate finally stops yelling, looks at the instructor, looks at Jenny, then just throws up his hands and says "Bye bye, ball."

Later when we get home, I go to get him out of his swim diaper and discover he has pooped. I don't think he pooped in the pool, however, because ...well... I'm getting pretty good at poop forensics and I just don't think this was ever submerged. Don't think we need any more detail than that. But I did take note that the wet clothes and general smell of chlorine masked the poop smell effectively. I'll have to remember that.

Due to Jenny's busy schedule, I get to take him to the pool next week. That ought to be fun.

Single Dad Day 5: The Last Stand.

2009-06-18T19:00:00.000-05:00

Jenny gets home from Mexico in about an hour.

Tate is having a great afternoon, happy and bouncing and all smiles. He has just a trace of a cough left, but is otherwise none the worse for wear. He'll be almost exactly like he was when Jenny left, which is all she really asked for, so mission accomplished.

This was a heck of an experience. Sort of a confidence-builder. Many thanks to Mama Mia and Big Guy for all the help this week.

Glad it's over. I can resume my normal duties of running errands, driving us to the in-laws, making pork chops, leaving beer bottles around the house and watching baseball.

Welcome home, Jenny!

Single Dad Day 4: Back to normal. Sort of.

2009-06-17T21:24:00.000-05:00

Highlights for the day:

Tate seems nearly fully recovered from croup in a scant three days
He's back home with me and though he was kind of cranky, we had a pretty good night, except
He barfed on me, himself, and our bed when I tried to give him his last pill

The sheets are washing as I write this.

This was my very first barf as a dad, and it was -- how to say this? -- Hollywood quality. Bits of hot dog, cheese, goldfish crackers, a couple of blueberries, one Nilla wafer and a lot of milk. Oh, and one "orally disintegrating" steroid tablet. Right. It should just be a law: Cats and kids do not do pills.

Speaking of pills, I'm glad Tate is home, but he was a moody Tot most of the evening. One minute he's talking and laughing, the next minute he's throwing a fit about...what? I can never tell. I try everything -- milk, a snack, pick him up, put him down, play some music, play on the computer, play a video -- nothing works, until he just kind of snaps out of it and is fine and happy again. Until the next fit. I'm pretty sure he was tired, and a little frustrated, and I'm positive he misses his mother (so do I). He asks about her about once an hour, and it pisses him off when I can't produce her. But I'm still glad to have him here. I just checked on him and he's snoozing now.

The puke was disgusting, but it didn't bother me at first because he was scared and I was way more concerned with comforting him and calming him down than with the mess. I kind of surprised myself, really. People always talk about a mother's instincts, but dads have them, too.

It wasn't until I had to go back and clean it up and strip down the bed that I gagged a little bit.

Jenny gets back from Mexico tomorrow night. She will arrive to a mostly clean house, a mostly well kid, a mostly tired husband and clean sheets on the bed.

Single Dad Day 3: Kids mess with your head

2009-06-16T18:44:00.000-05:00

Tate is doing fine. That's the most important thing.

He has been at his grandmother's house since yesterday afternoon and will remain there tonight, and every time I have called he's been great. He's eating fine, he's getting his meds, he's getting plenty of sleep and plenty of love from his doting grandparents. He is happy, clean and safe.

And yet, he is there and I am here and his mother is in Mexico.

This morning I felt fine about that. But around lunchtime I started feeling the first, faint pangs of guilt, and I called my in-laws to check and see if everything was going okay. All was well, said my father-in-law, in what ranked among the shortest phone calls I've probably ever had with any relative and yet may be the longest phone call I've ever had with my father-in-law. I could hear Tate in the background, happily gabbing away, just like he always does. No crying. No yelling. No sounds of furniture crashing. Or sirens. Everything was fine, just like it always is when Tate stays with the Dodsons.

Heck, if anything he was probably having more fun there than he would be having here, because they have a proper back yard with a sand box and grass and there's even a dog to play with. Tate loves dogs.

We have two cats; one that scratches Tate and one that runs from Tate.

I felt better for the moment, but it was soon eating at me again, in spite of a fairly busy work day. I worried that somehow, some way, even though I had been assured repeatedly by my mother-in-law that it was fine to leave Tate there for another night, I was being a lousy, lazy, self-absorbed parent. Tate does have croup. If I went and got him it's likely he'll have a few coughing spells in the middle of the night that will be enough to wake both of us up, and I'll be a sleep-deprived wreck with two more days to take care of him while still trying to be productive at work.

But that's terribly selfish. I'm just whining now. And it seems like I don't want to spend any time with my kid, which could not be farther from the truth; I love spending time with Tate.

Am I just scared? Well, yes, there is some fear. As I said in the previous post, I haven't been the go-to parent for most anything that doesn't involve construction, garbage, loud machinery, heavy lifting, driving, or cooking (yes, I do most of the cooking at home, but trust me; it's better for everyone that way). I'm realizing just how much I have depended on Jenny for the hands-on parenting work. Not that I don't do any hands-on stuff; I've changed plenty of diapers and given plenty of baths and put Tate in his PJs plenty of times. I just don't do those things as much as Jenny.

Back to fear. I knew having to take care of Tate alone wasn't going to be a walk in the park; but having to take care of him alone while he's sick is downright panic-inducing. I'd be totally lying if I didn't admit that the fear of something bad happening to Tate on my watch is a big reason why he's with his grandparents tonight. This ain't their first rodeo, after all, and it shows whenever I have called to check on Tate. Mama Mia is a school teacher. She also raised three kids of her own. Not much is going to catch her by surprise anymore.

If not selfish, does this at least make me a coward? Well, it kind of feels like it. I have called another couple of times since then, and Tate is still there, happy as a clam. I'm still torn about not going to see him tonight, but then, I'll see him tomorrow morning. Jenny is downright distraught that she can't be here, like any good mom would be, even though there really isn't anything bad happening. Like I said at the beginning of this overly-long post, Tate is fine.

It's harder to speak for Tate's parents.

Single Dad Day 2: Things go terribly awry

2009-06-15T12:20:00.000-05:00

Yesterday went about as well as could be expected, and as I put the little Godlovit to sleep at precisely 9:05 p.m., I nearly sprained my elbow patting myself on the back for being such an awesome, responsible, terrific dad.

Karma, as they say, is a bitch.

At about 1 a.m. Tate woke up crying. This is not at all unusual, though I had a little streak going on nights when I kept him alone (2-3 nights maybe) where he was making it all the way through the night. It was a source of pride and more evidence of my mad parenting skillz.

But not this night, so I went and got him and put him in bed with me. I noticed a little raspy note to his breathing, but it wasn't enough to worry me and besides, he was asleep as soon as he hit the mattress, so I didn't think much of it.

I set the alarm for 6 a.m. and it woke both of us, but we stayed in bed for another 20 mins., whereupon I realized he was really sounding awful. He sounded like a sea lion. Okay, maybe not exactly like a sea lion, but he was having a rough time of it. Still, he was in good spirits, and as the morning went on, he seemed to be getting better (he didn't have a fever -- I checked), so I got him dressed and took him to daycare, still raspy but not nearly as bad as he was when he woke up. I told the daycare supervisor to call me if he got worse, and figured I probably wouldn't get called. And besides, Mama Mia (Tate's Texas grandmother) was going to be picking him up early anyway and keeping him that night (yes, I was going to take a night off after one lousy day; back off), so I was concerned, but not really worried.

Okay, so, I get a call at work before I can even finish checking my emails. Tate is back to sea-lion again, and I need to come get him.

Shit....ShitShitShit....Shit. Dad does not do emergencies, or shots, or sick kids, or any of that. Jenny has always handled stuff like that. I can't even spell the doctor's name. Hell, I got lost once trying to find Tate's doctor's office, and it's less than three miles from our house. No, I do not do the sick kid thing -- until today.

I'll shorten this up. I called Mama Mia and had her make an appointment with Tate's doc, while I left work and drove 80 mph the whole way to his daycare, where I found him napping in the supervisor's office. He sounded so bad. :( Along the way I connected with Jenny in Cabo to let her know what was up. She mumbled and slurred her way through something about Don Julio and poppers and hand-stands and said she'd have to get back to me later, like about 9 p.m. or so.

Just kidding. She was fine, and very concerned, and helped me by telling me about Tate's insurance and stuff. Mama Mia kept in touch with her while we were at the pediatrician's office, where Tate was diagnosed with the croup. He got a shot (not fun) but was breathing much better before we left the office. He's got to take some steroids (not those steroids) to make himself well, and I have been advised that even with the meds, it's going to be a rough 3-4 nights, at least, and this could go on as long as two weeks.

And I was really thinking this whole single dad thing was going to be easy. Like I said, Karma is a bitch. At least the Tot is doing a lot better now. We've been very fortunate to this point as far as wellness has been concerned with Tate. I suppose you can't dodge every bullet, though.

I am Single Dad

2009-06-14T12:24:00.000-05:00

Sorry it's been so long since my last post. I can't ever get Jenny off the computer.

That won't be a problem for the next five days, however, as Jenny has left town to scope out Cabo San Lucas for the next big FedEx party, leaving me alone with the Tot.

So far, so good. We had McD'd for breakfast (pancakes & eggs for him, McMuffin for me), played & watched political talk shows (Tate is very concerned with the goings-on in Iran and hopes a consensus can be

reached between the rival parties before there is more bloodshed) for about four hours, and made a grocery store/bank run.

At the grocery, Tate got one of those carts with a car on the front. He loves those because he likes to face forward and because he likes to grab the ankles of passers-by. I think they are a pain because they're like, nine feet long and hard to maneuver around a crowded grocery -- but they're worth the hassle because it keeps Tate relatively quiet and he can't see the balloons as easily.

Everything has been great except that when I went to get him out of the car after the grocery run, he was eating something. Just finishing it, actually. Problem was I didn't give him anything to eat. I don't even want to think about what it was, or where he might have found it. It looked like it might have been a Goldfish cracker, which he might have pulled from the between the cushions in his car seat, but I don't know.

For lunch he ate an entire container of Mississippi blueberries, which I was very proud to serve. And he ate a banana, but I don't know where it came from. Probably South America, which is like Mississippi in many respects.

He's down for his nap now. Hopefully he'll stay sacked out long enough for me to take a quick dump and get the kitchen straightened out. Check back tonight for recap of Day 1.

My son's favorite songs

2009-03-11T00:06:00.000-05:00

"Come Dancing" by the Kinks. He heard it on the way home from daycare today and freaked. He loves music in general and will dance at the drop of a hat.

He also likes "Atomic Dog", "Love Rollercoaster", "Jungle Boogie", "Party Train" and just about any late 70s-early 80s funk.
...and "La Grange," by ZZ Top.
...and anything played on a xylophone.

Man, that video just kills me. Weren't the 80s fun?

Read at your own risk

2009-02-10T22:05:00.000-06:00

That was the warning my wife sent with a link to a blog about the McClenahan family in Kansas.

The Macs (as their blog is called) are new parents to a beautiful little girl named Cora Paige, age 11 months. The blog looks and sounds just like any number of young family blogs I've followed -- funny anecdotes about Cora, beautiful pictures, lots of talk about new teeth, how much little Cora likes baths, family visits, favorite toys, etc. They are by all accounts a typically sweet, Midwestern American family.

Then, on Monday, Jan. 12, there is a post about little Cora getting an ear infection. The post is simply titled "sick". What follows is a chronicle of every parent's worst nightmare, told as it happens with heartbreaking clarity, hope, sadness and bravery.

Cora died on Sunday. I'm sharing this blog so that maybe you might take something from it, but I'm not sure what, exactly. We all know how precious our children are, and what a blessing every day is that we can share with them. I don't know. I just thought I'd share. It's powerful stuff. It's also as real as real gets.

Let me be clear: Jenny was right -- read it at your own risk. If you don't want a supremely emotional experience, don't go there.

My son is highly advanced

2009-01-18T18:51:00.000-06:00

Just want to take a moment to brag about my kid. He's only 15 months old, but throws tantrums that no seasoned 2-year-old could possibly match.

That's right, my son has the maturity of a person more than twice his age. Just think how this will translate when he's 9 -- he'll be like a college freshman!

That's how I'm choosing to interpret the last 24 hours, anyway. Nothing but silver linings here.

The Brown Heart Story

2008-12-15T09:46:00.000-06:00

Since Tate has been walking, the easiest way to get his diaper off for bath time is to stand him up -- often on the floor right in front of the tub -- and just pull the flaps off the diaper and let gravity do the rest. When the diaper hits the floor, just roll it up, move it aside and pop the Tot in the tub. Obviously the rules are different for poopy diapers, where the full changing table routine must be applied.

Last night when Jenny was taking off Tate's diaper for bath time, she discovered he'd dropped a secret load that we never detected, which is very rare since he started eating real food. She kinda freaked when the diaper hit the floor, so she scrambles to get it out of the way and into a proper receptacle and leaves Tate standing there for a moment, grinning.

Good time for a walk, he decides. So off he goes, off the tile that's next to the tub and onto the carpet, where he promptly loses his balance and plops down on his butt in that cute way that toddlers do.

Now I didn't see any of this, but I heard Jenny scream. When she pulled him up, still smiling and laughing, there was a poopy butt-print on our rug that looked almost like a little brown heart. I told her that Tate was showing us he loved us. I wanted to leave it there and take a picture, but Jenny wasn't as impressed and started cleaning it immediately.

I can now say with authority that garden-variety poop cleans up pretty easily off the carpet. I can't speak for diarrhea or other weird poop, but basic brown comes up easily. We have a speckled berber carpet, so no one will ever notice. Which is a shame, because it would have been a great story for years.

Jenny just has no sense of history.

Hard to maintain a blog these days

2008-12-10T19:35:00.000-06:00

I literally can't sit here at the computer for 10 minutes straight without dealing with some Tate-related event. By the time he's asleep (about 9 p.m.) I'm either too tired to post anything or Jenny has already commandeered the computer for her own blog purposes.

Anyway, here's a look at what I'm up against.

People are freaking morons

2008-11-21T11:10:00.001-06:00

Everybody remembers what happened in Florida in 2000 (the whole voting debacle, the recounts, the clear indication that a confusing ballot in Miami caused a lot of old jews to vote for Pat Buchanan, etc).

Most people never saw any of the ballots, save for a few that made it into some memorable AP photos of the recount, so I think people didn't appreciate just how difficult the recount was for the folks doing the (re)counting. The (re)counters were ridiculed, in fact, for taking so long to do what appeared to be a pretty simple job: looking at marks on a card.

Flash-forward to Thursday, where they're in the middle of recounting the ballots in the Minnesota Senate race. Right now Republican Norm Coleman has a very slim (less than 200 votes) lead over Democrat Al Franken. Minnesota Public Radio has a great feature on what the recount people are dealing with. I found this very enlightening and very frustrating at the same time.

Apparently, the act of filling in a little circle next to a person's name is just too much to expect from some people.

Back to reality. Well, sort of.

2008-11-13T19:38:00.000-06:00

I'm going to try and lay off the political crap for a while. The election is over, my guy won, blah blah blah...

Meanwhile, who in the hell in Lauren Conrad? I was flipping through my wife's Us Weekly and that freaking chick is on every page. I've never heard of her. Never heard of her show, "The Hills", which is apparently some kind of reality/sitcom hybrid. I feel bad that I've never heard of someone who is so famous. I guess.

I'm turning into my father. He stopped paying attention some time around the late 1970s. The last contemporary music he ever bought was Jackson Browne's Running on Empty. The last movie he saw in a theatre was either Animal House or The Sting or Rocky; I can't remember which.

I confess I've pretty much stopped listening to or looking for new music. I spend 90% of my time on iTunes looking for old stuff I listened to when I was in my teens and 20s. Jenny introduces me to new bands every once in a while (The Killers, The Shins, The White Stripes, to name a few), but if you see me on iTunes, I'm probably looking for that old song from Giuffria that I slow danced to in junior high school.

Yeah, I'm lame. But I come by it honestly.

Finally. Now I can start liking McCain again.

2008-11-10T21:27:00.001-06:00

I like John McCain. The old John McCain. The one who was funny and direct and the darling of the talk shows because he didn't sound like a politician. The one from the 2000 presidential race who was torpedoed by Karl Rove and those sleazy Bush election operatives -- the same ones the new Bizzaro McCain would hire to save his own campaign eight years later.

We saw flashes of that John McCain every once in a while, but only flashes and far too late in the game for it to make any difference.

His gracious and very classy concession speech was a reminder of what might have been, and hopefully what may be as we go forward.

I think I was right when I predicted that his choice of Sarah Palin effectively ended any chance he had for the White House. Palin was woefully unqualified, but that wasn't the whole reason her choice was so devastating. I think much of the problem with Palin was that the choice never seemed sincere. And the people knew it.

The fact is, McCain didn't want Palin -- not at first, at least. He wanted his friend, Sen. Joe Lieberman. And if he couldn't get Lieberman, he wanted former Secretary of Homeland Security (and Pennsylvania Gov.) Tom Ridge, and if he couldn't get Ridge, he might have been okay with Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.

Here's where the narrow tolerances of the Republican Party -- in its current guise, at least -- rose up the most to bite their own candidate in the ass. Lieberman was certainly qualified, but ultimately rejected because he was pro-choice and that would scare away the evangelicals. Lieberman is also a Jew, which would have been equally disqualifying to the evangelicals had his position on abortion not been so convenient.

Ridge was also pro-choice (and a Catholic, grrrr), and similarly dismissed. Pawlenty was the safe choice, but McCain, ever the gambler, chose the Barracuda instead as a way to inject some life into his flagging campaign. And it worked. For about three weeks.

I think if we're all being honest, it probably would not have mattered who he chose. VP choices have little impact, historically, on who people ultimately choose to vote for. This just wasn't the year to be the GOP candidate for president.

Anyway, that's all done now. Like I said, I had always liked McCain and I look forward to liking him again. Now that he no longer has to worry about satisfying evangelicals and such, he can get back to being his old maverick-y self.

Until he loses his re-election bid in 2010 to Janet Napolitano, that is, at which point I guess he'll have to find other causes to champion.

President Barack Obama

2008-11-04T21:28:00.000-06:00

They just called Ohio for Obama, then, to make 100% sure, they called Iowa and New Mexico. McCain has no path to the presidency now. This election is over, and Barack Obama has won. The only thing left is to see how big the margin of victory will be.

My son will never know a United States history book without a black President. Wow.
I'll post more tomorrow.

Wow.

My predicted electoral map

2008-11-03T11:43:00.001-06:00

<p><strong>><a href='http://projects.washingtonpost.com/2008/pick-your-president/'>2008 Election Contest: Pick Your President</a></strong> - Predict the winner of the 2008 presidential election.</p>

Obama will win with more than 300 electoral votes. As I indicated before, if Virginia goes, I think it's over for McCain. However, if McCain somehow manages to keep Virginia, the next state to watch is Florida, which I think is a much better prospect for the Arizona Senator but by no means a gimmie.

If Florida goes for McCain, the next state to watch is Ohio. If McCain wins Ohio, Florida and Virginia -- getcha popcorn ready; all bets are off. I personally just don't see than happening, but it is certainly not out of the realm of possibility.

Of course, an Obama landslide, where he could grab almost 400 EVs, is also a possibility (one I would find far more palatable, but that's just me).

Go vote, if you haven't already.

A short election night?

2008-10-20T23:29:00.001-05:00

The networks are looking for ways to keep audiences watching on election night in the event of an early knockout by Obama.

How early? How about 6:01 p.m. Central Time -- or roughly 60 seconds after the polls close in Virginia and the networks can begin reporting the exit poll data. If those polls show Obama with a clear victory in the Old Dominion, every pundit in America will know the game's over -- even the increasingly unstable guys at Fox News.

Simply put: There is no realistic scenario for a McCain victory in the electoral college that does not include Virginia. Currently he is trailing in that state by an average of seven points and he has not held a definitive lead there since late September. The same thing can be said about North Carolina, where he has been in a statistical tie with Obama for almost a month.

The damning math for McCain

In order to win, Obama only needs to hold the states Kerry won in 2004 and flip one big state (Ohio, Florida) or any combination of smaller states that add up to 20 electoral votes. Iowa's 7 votes are already locked up (he leads McCain by 15 there), so that leaves him just 13 votes short. Virginia has 13 votes, ergo, game over. North Carolina has 15 votes -- same story. Obama is also leading in Colorado (9 votes -- and McCain is apparently pulling out), New Mexico(5), Nevada(5) and Missouri(11) -- all states that Bush won in 2004.

Considering that Obama just raised another $150 million in September and is currently outspending McCain by considerable margins in every battleground state, McCain's chances of holding on to all of those states -- as he must in order to win -- seems remote.

McCain certainly should not be draining what limited resources he has fighting for states like Virginia and North Carolina. They should be in the bag; both states have been solidly red in every presidential election since the 1970s. The fact that they could flip for the first time in two generations says something about the palpable desire for change in this country.

UPDATE 10/21:
The McCain campaign has admitted that it has all but given up on Colorado, New Mexico and Iowa. If Obama wins these three he gets 21 votes and, well, game over. Why would McCain do that? Apparently he's decided on a final, kamikaze-style strategy to consolidate everything into Florida, North Carolina, Virginia, Ohio, Missouri, Nevada and Pennsylvania. The first six are arguably swing states, but every poll out there puts Obama 10-12 points ahead in Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania hasn't gone Republican since the 1980s. It's a desperate move that's shaping up to be McCain's final nutty gamble of 2008.

The problem with calling the race early

So what happens if Virginia gets called early? Are the dozens of anchors and pundits going to lie and pretend they don't know what's going on? However, if they call the election at 4:01 p.m. Pacific Time, millions of people may not bother to vote (especially McCain voters), which could affect hundreds of downticket races west of the Mississippi.

Like any good sports analyst might say: It'll be interesting to see what happens.

More importantly...
We took Tate to a pumpkin patch this weekend. He loved it.

He's awesome. Calls me da-da all the time.
Just thought I'd share, because, you know, whether you're a Republican or a Democrat -- this is the stuff that matters.

The end of the world as we know it?

2008-10-10T12:16:00.000-05:00

The Dow was off 'only' 128 points on Friday, following a 678-point drop the day before. For the week, the Dow was down almost 1,900 points -- more than 22% -- its worst week in the index's 112-year history. European and Asian markets also took a beating. Iceland -- Iceland -- is about to go bankrupt. Oil has dropped below $84 a barrel, off from a high of $140 a barrel due to fears of a worldwide recession/depression that would severely weaken demand.

We’re in some serious poop
The headline of a story on the front page of the Washington Post Friday queried if what we’re seeing now is “The end of American capitalism.”

That may be a stretch, but it's a question that is gaining merit so long as the stock market continues southbound and the government continues its move towards nationalization (see my post from a few days ago about that). No matter who gets elected, the next president will certainly be facing some unprecedented challenges, both here and overseas.

This will give you a clear idea of what we’re up against
Here’s an example: General Motors stock was down to $4.76 a share yesterday. The budget surpluses that Bush inherited from Clinton have been turned into massive deficits financed by borrowing money from foreigners, especially in Asia. This means that Asian countries -- China in particular -- own hundreds of billions of dollars worth of treasury bills.

Now suppose the Chinese government decides it wants to get into the car manufacturing business and makes a deal with Toyota, now the world's largest car manufacturer, to buy GM outright -- with GM's stock price cratering right now, this could be done for a relative song -- and move its factories to China to be operated by Toyota but employing Chinese workers. All they keep is the U.S. dealer network, and millions of American jobs are lost.

If the next President steps in to nix the purchase of GM, the Chinese sell their treasury bills and the dollar collapses, sending the prices of everything from groceries to gasoline skyrocketing and dealing a near-fatal blow to the American economy. This is not science fiction anymore. Which candidate is better prepared to deal with stuff like this could (should) determine the election.

Meanwhile, on the Trail…
Barack Obama has been talking a lot about the economy, but John McCain has been avoiding the subject (his own campaign manager has said the economy is a loser for him), choosing instead to focus on Obama’s connection to William Ayers – a subject which he is happy to bring up at his own (increasingly scary) rallies, but won’t say to Obama’s face.

Obama and Biden -- in one of Biden's best moments yet -- have both pointed out this apparent lack of testicular fortitude on behalf of The Maverick.

Three weeks to go.

Debate: Huge numbers, ultimately little impact

2008-10-03T21:29:00.000-05:00

Joe Biden showed why he's the most qualified and prepared individual on either ticket to be president Thursday night. That he happens to be running in the No. 2 spot doesn't change that fact.

Biden was clearly confident in his command of his material -- as one might expect from a guy who has been in the Senate for 36 years. Palin was shaky at first, but found her footing and really wasn’t as bad as many might have thought she’d be, especially after her disastrous performance with Katie Couric. Still, she avoided answering a lot of questions and didn't get any follow-up questions from the very non-confrontational moderator, Gwen Ifill. One example: When Ifill asked her what she'd do about the mortgage crisis, Palin said: "Let's commit ourselves--just everyday American people, Joe Six-Pack, hockey moms across the nation--I think we need to band together and say, 'Never again.'"

She didn't explain how hockey moms could get together to prevent a financial crisis, and Ifill didn't follow up. Couric would have, I'm guessing.

My wife and I both thought Palin's folksy vernacular ("you betcha", "gosh darn", "doggone it") was hokey and annoying and too-often forced. We've just had 8 years of hearing our president sound like a hick and not be able to pronounce the word nuclear, among other things. Palin mispronounces it the exact same hick way: new-KWEW-ler.

Enough already, Sarah. You were a broadcast journalism major for crying out loud -- someone at one of those junior colleges you went to must have taught you you how to speak correctly.

Jenny and I also thought that Ifill might have pressed Palin more often for her non-answers had she not been targeted by a coordinated right wing sqwawk-fest the day before the debate about a book she’d been working on called “Breakthrough: Politics and Race in the Age of Obama.” The book has been a matter of public record for months, but that didn’t stop the squawkers from crying about Ifill being “in the tank” for Obama.

I got news for the squawkers: Have you seen the polls? Apparently, America is in the tan k for Obama.

Speaking of polls, the first polls of the debate from CNN showed that 51% of the voters thought Biden won the debate compared to 36% for Palin. On the plus side for Palin (I guess): 84% said Palin did better than expected while 64% said Biden did better than expected. But debating skills and beating artificially low expectations don't really matter. What matters is whether the candidate is qualified to be president should the need arise. On this score, Biden clearly won as 87% said Biden is qualified to be President and only 42% said Palin is.

CBS also did a quickie poll among uncommitted voters. In this one, 46% said Biden won and only 21% said Palin won. In terms of being knowledgeable about the issues, 98% think Biden is and 66% think Palin is. On the key question of whether the candidate could be an effective President, 91% said Biden could be and only 44% said Palin could be, similar to the CNN poll.

But really, all of this only means one thing: It’s up to McCain and Obama now, mano-a-mano. The sideshows are over. Vice presidential debates are fun to watch, but never really amount to much in the big picture. This one had a little more drama thanks to Palin’s train-wreck potential, but not nearly enough to make it a serious factor for most folks. Democrats can say their guy won on substance and polling. Republicans can finally exhale and wipe their brows now; Palin didn't flop and effectively stopped the bleeding -- temporarily, at least -- in what has been a miserable two weeks for the McCain campaign.

This debate will be pretty much forgotten in a week or so. Then it will go on to take its place among the slightly more interesting -- but ultimately forgettable -- footnotes in American political history.

Onward to November.

The only Fox News anchor worth a damn

2008-10-02T19:16:00.000-05:00

Shep Smith didn't graduate from Ole Miss, but he went there, and he's been an ambassador for the school ever since. This isn't the first time he's gone Wild Rebel on the air, but it may be the funniest. Check out how his accent totally changes by the end of the clip.

The Debate: Not a game-changer

2008-09-26T21:57:00.000-05:00

Well, at least Ole Miss got some love tonight.

There was no slam-dunk in tonight's debate.

McCain supporters may -- no doubt will -- claim that their candidate possessed a stronger command of foreign policy issues. That's a win for McCain.

Then again, Obama supporters may -- and no doubt will -- claim that their candidate more than held his own on a subject -- foreign policy -- that was supposed to be right in the wheelhouse of McCain. McCain was supposed to crush Obama on foreign policy. Clearly, he did not -- that's a win for Obama.

In summation: All things being equal, I see Obama maintaining his current advantage after tonight, if only because the end result was not enough to sway anyone's opinion either way.

To be perfectly honest, McCain did better than I expected -- but probably not quite well enough to make the talking heads forget the stunt he pulled about going to Washington to solve the financial crisis beforehand. That was an idiot move.

The next debate is Oct. 2 in St. Louis between Biden and Palin. This is shaping up to be the greatest mismatch in the history of presidential politics. It's such a great mismatch that Biden is almost at a disadvantage because the expectations will be so low for Palin; she'll get points just for being able to find her way to the event.

I would not be surprised at all if Palin withdraws from the ticket before the debate for some reason -- family obligations, perhaps -- and we see the event cancelled or rescheduled with whoever the new VP is (Tom Ridge, Joe Lieberman, Mike Huckabee, etc.) - -it's exactly the sort of crazy, nonsensical stunt McCain has made a habit of pulling in this election.

Either way, the Palin choice is turning out to be the huge liability I predicted it would be.

Top 10 reasons McCain is cutting and running from the debate

2008-09-25T00:05:00.000-05:00

10. Does he even have a house in Mississippi? I don't think so.

9. All thirteen of his cars are out of gas.

8. Couldn't find a single black Republican for the practice debate.

7. Friday is Bingo Night!

6. Couldn't get enough lobbyists together to form a quorum.

5. Somebody gave him a stick of gum while he was walking.

4. Getting his teeth re-yellowed on Thursday and they won't be dry until Saturday morning.

3. Was planning on going to Golden Corral buffet.

2. Damn kids are on his lawn.

1. John McCain remembers the Great Depression, the Great Depression was a friend of his, and you, financial crisis, are no Great Depression.

My kid farts all the time

2008-09-19T18:03:00.000-05:00

My son farts a lot.

And by "a lot," I mean like 6-10 times an hour. Sometimes they're sweet little pips, like opening a tupperware container. Other times they're disproportionately huge, almost like a tommy gun blast. The funniest ones are when he stops what he's doing, semi-closes his eyes and lets a long one go.

I envy him. How much happier would we all be if we could just fart when our bodies told us to, instead of trying to bottle them up all day and then blasting off as soon as you get in your car to go home.

Don't act like you haven't done that, either. All of you have -- though it's funnier with vinyl seats. Just don't forget to roll those windows down -- you may think the smell is gone but nobody really knows how bad their own farts smell -- or how long the smell stays. That sucker may linger for a while -- especially if you have cloth seats -- so don't volunteer any rides at lunch for a few days, just to be safe.

Speaking of old farts, John McCain is now saying the head of the SEC (that's the Securities and Exchange Commission) should be fired, and that if he were president, he would fire him. Great, except the president can't fire the head of the SEC. He has also called for more regulation of the financial services industry. Whether a guy who has opposed regulation his entire career can now be taken seriously when he calls for more regulation remains to be seen.

Stocks have rallied over the past two days on the news that the government is preparing the mother of all bailouts, with Uncle Sam simply buying up all the bad debt (dead mortgages) from the banks. This would transfer billions -- perhaps trillions -- of taxpayer dollars to the ailing banks, saving them from the consequences of their own greed.

Mommy and daddy have apparently taken back the keys to the car and agreed to pay for the accident. No wonder everyone is happy. Boy, that was a close one!

Bush-Cheney goes Marxist

2008-09-17T09:34:00.000-05:00

After several days of saying it would not bail out the nation's largest insurance company, A.I.G. (an acronym which, when pronounced as a word, is the way Texans say egg) , the government bailed out A.I.G., risking $85 billion of the taxpayers' money.

In return, the government got 80% of the now near-worthless stock. In other countries, when the government effectively buys (nearly) all of a company's stock, it is called nationalization. Treasury secretary Henry Paulson was clearly afraid A.I.G.'s demise would take out too many other big players and wreak massive damage on the economy. The move will be very controversial since it risks public money to protect bad investments made by A.I.G. management. It is the very antithesis of the Republican small government/personal responsibility dogma.

This nationalization poses an especially large challenge for John McCain, who is now railing against corporate greed and lack of government regulation of the financial industry. What he doesn't talk much about is how deregulation happened. It was the 1999 Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act that repealed the 1933 Glass-Steagall Act and thus eliminated the depression-era walls between between banking, investment, and insurance that made this crisis possible.

Glass-Stegall erected walls between banking, investment management, and insurance, so problems in one sector could not spill over into the others, which is precisely what is happening now. The primary author of that legislation was former-senator-turned-lobbyist Phil Gramm, McCain's top economic advisor (he's the guy who said America was in a "mental recession" and that America had become "a nation of whiners," remember?) McCain fully supported that bill and has a decades-long track record of opposing government regulation of the financial industry. Now, suddenly, not so much.

Obama is already pointing out that McCain got what he wanted (deregulation) and this is the consequence.

UPDATE: The Dow just closed in a free-fall, dropping more than 400 points today. The collapse of the U.S. financial services industry and it's socialistic bailout is going to be the cherry on top of the Bush administration's 8-year reign of error -- provided something worse doesn't happen in the next three months, which is entirely possible.

Just to review the latest GOP policy positions:

Socialization of healthcare services = BAD

Socialization of finanical services = GOOD

Funniest scene ever filmed

2008-09-11T18:59:00.000-05:00

I keep trying to get motivated to write another political screed, but my heart's just not in it right now. We're still a million miles from the finish line in the presidential race.

I'm still 100% certain that Obama will win, though it may be closer than I first thought; he may not get to 300 in the electoral college.

I know Palin is the hottest thing going right now, but I also know this: Americans love beautiful people, but they love destroying beautiful people more. The more popular Palin becomes, the more she's gonna get dumped on near the end of this thing, and I predict an ugly end to this affair.

Look for the Fatal Attraction card to get played about the first week of October.

Anyway, without further adieu, the funniest scene ever filmed. It is from the 1980s classic Bachelor Party, starring Tom Hanks -- this was actually released after Splash, so it got much more play than movies of this type ordinarily get. Bachelor Party was awesomely funny with almost as many quotable lines as Caddyshack, which remains the Mother of All Quotable Movies.

I have tried to think of a political parallel to this scene. No luck yet.

By the way, the clip is probably a little too long; you can stop watching after about :35.

If you want the best setup for this, I highly recommend watching this scene first.

Enjoy.

Obama needs to get mad like Jean Luc Picard

2008-09-09T23:59:00.000-05:00

I like Star Trek.

This is one of my all-time favorite Star Trek moments. I always thought this scene, starting with the line "We've made too many compromises already; too many retreats..." (go to 1:15 in the clip) would be a great scene to show on the jumbotron at a football game when the home team has to make a goal line stand.

That would get me fired up.

Sarah Palin

2008-09-03T00:02:00.000-05:00

So it has come to this.

I started to write a long post about things like the steady downward spiral of the collective American IQ into an abyss of apathy, intellectual sloth, narcissism and willful ignorance. I was going to mention how, generations from now, we will be looked on as the Generation That Blew It; the generation that let America slide into global mediocrity after a century of global dominance.

To put it into pop culture terms (rapidly becoming the only terms we understand anymore):We are in real danger of becoming the American generation that jumped the shark.

Instead, I'm skipping ahead to the relevant portion, and that is that Sarah Palin is simply the most fantastically unqualified person to ever have even the slightest chance to occupy the oval office in modern American history (which I consider to be since the introduction of electricity).

By choosing Palin, John MCain has effectively guaranteed the failure of his campaign. I say this because the idea -- McCain's cynical idea -- that a majority of Americans would willingly ignore her complete lack of qualifications is absurd.

And before anyone out there starts up with the Republican talking points about her "executive" experience making her more qualified than Obama (which is bullshit), just ask yourself this: If Hillary hadn't run for president, would anyone even be thinking about Sarah Palin for VP right now?

Of course not. The idea would be absurd.

It still is. McCain is done.

Biden is The Man

2008-08-23T16:43:00.000-05:00

I have been a Biden supporter for nearly a decade.
He was my first choice for president, in fact. I even contributed to his campaign, though I knew he didn't really have much of a chance. So of course I could not be more excited about his joining Obama on the Democratic ticket.

Biden is now the most experienced and qualified man on either ticket, and he will still be no matter who McCain picks as his own running mate. Biden is no hand-wringing, milquetoast Democrat. He can throw a punch. Here's a sample:

You don't hear enough Democrats talk like this. If they would, we might not be in the mess we're in.

Obama/Biden '08!

You want cat entertainment?

2008-08-20T23:27:00.000-05:00

My Wilford Brimley cat video went over like a fart in church.

I guess I forgot to tell everyone to cleanse themselves of the expectation that something would happen; it's just a cat that looks a lot like Wilford Brimley sitting at a table with pot stickers and beer licking himself. I thought it was funny, but I'm odd like that.

For those of you pining for more action, I suggest you check out these cats. I would advise turning down (but not off) the volume on your computer before clicking that link, yo.

A BONUS NOTE ABOUT NBC'S OLYMPICS PROGRAMMING THAT'S NOT WORTH CREATING A WHOLE NEW POST

I have watched more women's beach volleyball in the past week than I have in my entire life.

I don't really care about beach volleyball, but since it's on all the freaking time, I end up watching it while I wait for a real olympic sport to start.

Still, I suppose I was pleased to see that our women in bikinis were better than China's women in bikinis at hitting a ball over a net -- the U.S. team won the gold medal tonight.

Wilford Brimley Kitty

2008-08-20T09:54:00.000-05:00

I like cats. I have two of them now and have owned at least one all my life, save for my time in the navy.

Dogs, not so much. Nothing against dog owners, mind you -- I just like cats better. I'll spare everyone a cats-versus-dogs column because there isn't anything new I could possibly add to that debate, as all clever cat/dog cliches have been covered a thousand times over.

Suffice to say that I don't like dogs because they often smell, they are often loud, they are often peeing where they shouldn't, and they are often needy and generally high-maintenance. Plus, there are a number of breeds that, if sufficiently provoked, will kill you.

The anti-cat argument may be summed up something like this: Like keeping boxes of shit in your home? Get a cat.

Anyway, like I said, I'm not getting into that.

I stole the video below from www.cuteoverload.com, which was recently featured in a New York Times article. The article quotes someone as saying a visit to the site is akin to "taking a happy pill".

This should make the average person happy, I think.

The Grove

2008-08-15T15:19:00.000-05:00

I'll be there in two short weeks.

My buddy Joel sent me this -- Ole Miss people will appreciate it.

Bongo Personals

2008-08-15T13:58:00.000-05:00

MAN SEEKING PARTNER FOR GOLF, MORE?
I'm just an average guy who is looking for someone to play golf with on weekends & holidays.

Qualified candidates should not be averse to drinking, smoking, talking about sports, kids, cars and/or pop culture. Qualified candidates must have a sense of humor , their own set of clubs and cannot take themselves or their game too seriously. Screamers and club throwers need not apply.

There will be no discrimination based on age, race, gender, political affiliation, religious affiliation, college affiliation or sexual orientation.*

About me:
I'm about a 15 handicap, which means on any given day I can score between 75 and 95. I typically shoot about 84-88, but I don't get worked up about a 98 either. I like to have a few beers while I play, because I like beer and this ain't the British Open, know what I mean?

I don't like gambling for money, but will play for beer or a hot dog at the turn. Occasionally I may let a curse word slip out, but never directed an another player and never louder than a conversational level.

Bottom line: If you like to play golf, have a beer, talk and joke around a little bit, lets go play.

Interested parties may post their contact information in the 'Comments' section of this post or email me at krobertson09@gmail.com.

Thanks.

*Female applicants may be screened by Mrs. Tomfoolery before their application is accepted.

Opening Ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics

2008-08-08T19:49:00.000-05:00

Wow.

I think I know how the Alpha Betas must have felt after watching the Tri-Lams skit.

"It's like they take pride in being ignorant"

2008-08-05T16:10:00.000-05:00

For the past day or two the Republicans have ridiculed Obama for suggesting that if Americans properly inflate their tires, we could save millions of barrels of oil a year.

This is an undisputed, lead-pipe fact. Yet, there was McCain, Hannity and Rush, making fun of Obama. For what? For telling people about an easy and virtually cost-free way to save gas?

His response is pitch-perfect.

Meanwhile, his opponent is apparently so preoccupied with the idea of drilling, he volunteered his wife for a topless dancing contest at a biker rally in South Dakota.

Forgotten song from a forgotten band

2008-08-04T19:21:00.000-05:00

Georgia-based Guadalcanal Diary was a favorite of mine back in college the first time around. For a while in the mid-1980s, it looked like they might become as popular as another Athens-based band you may have heard of.

This is one of my favorites of theirs. I hadn't heard it in more than 10 years until just last night, and it holds up well. YouTube is amazing.

When you want a beer and you want to cry

2008-08-02T17:47:00.000-05:00

For those like sappy, G-rated content, consider this the anti-Winnebago Man video.

Here's a video for guys -- guys who are into martial arts and, frankly, smell a bit. I just love the music.

Why Bongo Tomfoolery?

2008-08-01T09:17:00.000-05:00

I chose the name Bongo Tomfoolery because I like funny words, and those are two of my favorites. Here is an incomplete list of my favorite words to say, starting with my all-time favorite...

Gazebo
Buttafucco
Bananarama
Shillelagh (Irish)
Zimbabwe
Bingo
Bongo
Curmudgeon
Loofa
Orifice
Tomfoolery
Gonad
Fandango
Rhutabega
Ortbal-Tibbs
Borla
Meatus
Paducah
Snurfle
Ginko Biloba
Zygote
Garbanzo
Knick-knack
Cojones
Brouhaha
Specious
Barack Obama
Festoon
Harbinger
Pith
Gluteus Maximus
Plethora
Huffnagle
Shellac
Obfuscate
Boogie-Woogie
Doppelganger
Haberdashery
Chickamauga
Bora Bora
Tot
Medulla Oblongata
Funderburk
Zulu
Hootnanny
Polska kielbasa
Baloney
Onomatopoeia
Phalanges
Flabbergast
Snorkle
Discombobulate
Podunk
Beaker
Kerfuffle
Besmirched
Fisticuffs
Mookie
Nougat
Winnebago

Some clarifications: Snurfle is a word we use around the house to describe the sounds Tate makes when he's stuffed up. Predictably, the thing we stick up his nose to suck out the snot is called a snurfler. Also, Ortbal-Tibbs is the last name of one of my wife's friends from a few years back. I love the fact that she was so proud of her surname, Ortbal, that she went with the hyphen instead of the initial. Her whole name is Stephanie Ortbal-Tibbs, and she's as delightful as her name. Especially for a Republican.

I'm adding to the list all the time, so if you think of one that I missed, let me know.

The WMD of the baby world

2008-07-31T09:53:00.000-05:00

We have the Baby Einstein Baby Beethoven DVD and we use it as a baby WMD (weapon of mass distraction) when we can't get Tate to chill out and all other traditional methods have failed (food, diaper change, books, toys, general lovin', etc.). So far, it has a 100% success rate. Pop it in, turn up the surround sound, and bang -- instant catharsis.

It's amazing how the BE stuff just hypnotizes kids. The first time I saw it happen was with my brother's kids. He and his wife went out and left Jenny and I alone with his 3- or 4-year-old girl and baby boy. They gave us instructions that if the kids get rowdy, try this, this, and this -- then, only if they get really crazy, should you go to the Baby Einstein tape.

We lasted about 30 minutes before putting in the tape, and it was like something out of the twilight zone. The kids just froze, staring at the screen. They stayed that way for more than an hour, until their parents got back.

It worked so well that Jenny and I became paranoid about Baby Einstein videos, and that paranoia has lasted to this day. That's why Baby Einstein DVDs are the WMDs of the baby world -- they should be used with extreme discretion and only when all measures of diplomacy have failed.

Besides, if there was ever a better way to secretly insert programmed messages into a new generation of consumers (you love Mickey Mouse, you will only watch shows on ABC, you think the ESPYs are legitimate, you need every Disney movie on high-def DVD, kill your parents) I can't think of it.

We just got to talking about baby toys this morning so I thought I'd share. Incidentally, we also all agreed that it would be cool to get high while watching a Baby Einstein DVD. Not that we would ever do such a thing, but, you know, it might have been fun to do in another life.

Maybe it was just me who said that.

I am a napkin-using m-f'er

2008-07-30T13:25:00.000-05:00

I just realized that used about 14 napkins while eating a cup of soup and a chick-fil-a sandwich.

I didn't even spill anything.

My son will not be a Cowboys fan

2008-07-25T09:36:00.000-05:00

He may be a Rangers fan.
He may be a Stars fan.
He may be a Mavs fan.

But he's either going to be a Giants fan, a Saints fan, or take violin lessons.

I have spent a lifetime hating the Dallas Cowboys, and I see no reason to stop hating them now that I live here, or now that I have a kid. I intend to pass along this hatred to the next generation.

In fact, living here has only increased my resolve, because I have to read and hear all the whining about how your team only won 13 games last year and hasn't won a Super Bowl in a whole decade and who your 1-in-a-bazillion quarterback is dating.

The sense of entitlement here is unmatched in pro football, and eclipsed only by Yankees fans in all of pro sports. Damn you, Cowboys. Damn you and your billion dollar stadium, and your 5 Super Bowl titles, your Hall-of-Famers and your .573 all-time winning percentage.

You will not get my son. Not ever.

Texas is growing on me

2008-07-22T19:08:00.000-05:00

Ugh.
It feels odd to see that headline, knowing that I wrote it and that it is, by and large, accurate.

I'm writing this because I remember feeling happy to be coming back to Texas after our recent trip -- something I've never felt about another state. When I realized this, I felt guilty. It was like I was cheating on Mississippi.

I still dearly love Mississippi and can be fiercely defensive about it, but I also recognize that it isn't the place I once imagined. Remember when you first realized that your parents weren't perfect? And I don't mean when you were a teenager, I mean when you were an adult. I've been feeling that way about my home state for almost a year now. It's no fun.

But I digress...

Texas, I have observed, has a positive, can-do attitude. That's sort of the opposite of what I've been used to growing up in a hard-luck state that for most of my lifetime has had more of an if-anything-can-go-wrong-it-will-so-why-bother attitude.

It helps immensely that Texas is, by Mississippi standards at least, rolling in money. I offer your jumbo-tron'd, multi-tiered, multicolored cathedrals you call high school football stadiums as exhibit A. I remember my first trip to Texas with my would-be bride and seeing one of those stadiums looming on the horizon.

"What college is that?" I asked.
"Um, that's Pennington Field."
"Pennington Field? Who plays there, a Division II school?"
"No, Bedford High School."
"Holy shit."

Only I didn't say holy shit. I just thought it. Later in that same visit, I read in the paper that Grapevine High had just gotten approval for $3 million to paint the field with school colors. $3 million. To paint a football field. That was more than the entire annual budget for my high school in Mississippi, and several times the annual budgets of poorer school districts in the Delta.

So yeah, maybe our attitude in Mississippi would be better if we had that kind of money. I'm not bitter or anything, I'm just sayin'.

But there's more to my appreciation of Texas than that.
Texas expects to win. Texas doesn't settle. Still, Texans are mostly easy-going and quick to make strangers feel welcome. Texans are casual -- sometimes to the point of absurdity (Cattle Baron's Ball, anyone?) -- which I have really come to appreciate, since I hate wearing suits. Texans also make inspired fast food workers, which, again, is quite the opposite of my home state.

These are just some of my observations after about 18 months. I have lots of others, but this post is getting too long and they can wait.

Besides, it's not like Texas needs me to pump it up -- the state pride thing can be really obnoxious. I mean, maybe they do make better margaritas here; that doesn't mean you have to go on and on and on about it when you're visiting other states. We get it.

I'm getting it.

Road Trip Observation No.1

2008-07-20T19:15:00.000-05:00

I just finished a road trip to Mississippi. It's about a 7 1/2 hour drive, which, conveniently, is almost the precise limit that a 9-month-old will tolerate sitting in the same seat before a complete meltdown.

Seriously, if the drive were 1/2 an hour longer, we would have to split it into two days.

But that's not Road Trip Observation No. 1.

RTO1 is this:

Not all assholes drive pickup trucks on the highway, but all pickup truck drivers on the highway are assholes.

- RTO1 addendum: This goes double for Dodge truck drivers.

That's all I'm going to post about this trip because I don't want to take any of the fun away from Mrs. Tomfoolery, who is planing an extended review of the Big Trip to Mississippi 2008 in the family blog. See ya tomorrow.

The All-Star Game: I love America, but...

2008-07-15T21:43:00.000-05:00

...are we ever going to get back to just singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during the seventh inning stretch of the All-Star game? I miss it.

Look, I love America as much as the next guy. I actually joined the navy and served my country. But I don't want to have the patriot police jamming "God Bless America" down my throat anymore. The first time they sang it after 9/11 was fine, but now it just irritates me.

Are we that insecure?

Let's just get back to baseball. It's supposed to be a game, not a reaffirmation.

How bad has crime gotten in Dallas?

2008-07-15T15:51:00.000-05:00

A dude tried to rob a pizza place where his daughter worked. Apparently, her whole family was in on the gig except her.

For those of you who don't live here, here's the item from today's Dallas Morning News that started out as a tale of employee heroism but then took a turn for the bizarre.

We recently tried to cancel the DMN, or at least scale it back to a Sunday-only delivery, but discovered that canceling your subscription is kind of like trying to get out of the mafia. We may have to move.

The case for the modest affirmative

2008-07-14T13:06:00.000-05:00

Today I was responding to an email from a coworker with the standard "Thanks", except that I wanted her to know I wasn't mad or displeased with the information she had provided me, so I took the very unusual step (for me) of adding an exclamation point: "Thanks!"

Unfortunately, that just confused her. She wrote me back and asked if I was being passive-aggressive.

No, I told her, I was trying to imply the modest affirmative, which is employed when you want to sound appropriately positive, but not inappropriately excited. It's also an official-sounding term I just made up. Sadly, there are no punctuation marks for modest affirmatives (or modest negatives), so in her case I had to go with the "!".

But I think there should be such a mark. Maybe a '^' with a period under it for modest affirmative or an upside down '^' with a period under it for a modest negative (I can't show the mark because it can't be made on a keyboard -- you'll have to draw it on a piece of paper, but it's worth it).

Of course, one may argue that we already have such a punctuation mark: The smiley. :)

Except the smiley (et al) is kinda gay. I almost never use smileys. And, since I rarely use exclamation points, I have earned a reputation at work as a sort of humorless, email curmudgeon.

~~But then, who cares what those bastards think?~~

The modest affirmative mark would take care of that, because it's a more formal mark -- suitable for straight men and mature women. Think George Clooney has ever sent an email with a freaking smiley on it? Think Margaret Thatcher would? Not a chance.

This mark would be for them. And me.

Why I hate Grey's Anatomy

2008-07-12T16:21:00.000-05:00

I hate Grey's Anatomy for a lot of reasons, but not the most obvious reasons that most people seem to list when they talk about hating that show.

For instance, the lead character, Grey, doesn't bother me as much as she seems to bother women in general and my wife in particular. She's whiny and selfish, ordinary-looking and not terribly interesting, which is unusual for a lead character but sort of refreshingly realistic, if you ask me.

Actually, I hate several shows, except that they are all the same show.

48 hours later...

I'm going to have to write more quickly and organize my thoughts better, I'm learning. With an 8 1/2-month-old kid in the house and wife who gets better at making up excuses to kick me off the computer every time I'm on it, I'm learning that to effectively maintain a blog, one cannot plod along thinking up Faulkneresque expressions and newspaper-ready copy.

If you have something to say, say it, cause you never know when Tate's going blow his diaper off or Jenny is going to ask me to find something that she's intentionally hidden. So here it is.

Grey's Anatomy sucks because I hate shows with narration, music montages and lots of coffee shop white people songs in the background. It's like the producers are admitting that the acting and writing alone can't carry the show. Maybe they're right. I don't know. I just hate it.

It all freaking started with Ally McBeal, which at least had the virtue of being original at the time. I hated that show because they always wound up at that bar with that loudmouth house band chick who must been screwing one of the executives at Fox because there is no other explanation for why her no-talent ass and her bad Edie Brickell-wannabe songs would be featured so prominently. I feel sorry for that executive.

Other shows that have followed the same basic format, give or take a feature, include(d):

Alias
ER
My Name is Earl
Sex and The City
Dirty Sexy Money
Eli Stone
Boston Legal
Party of 5
Ugly Betty
The Wonder Years

If you think of any more, let me know. I don't watch a lot of television that isn't news or sports, so I'm sure there are tons of others out there. ABC is clearly the worst offender, and now that I think of it, The Wonder Years may have been the true original. At least it didn't have that awful chick singing her awful songs at the end of each show. The Wonder Years actually had some good 60s and 70s music in it and was cool until all the kids grew up.

Oops.

2008-07-10T21:30:00.000-05:00

Well, it took my wife about 2 hours, but somehow she got the link to my family blog taken off the menu at the right. So my anonymity could be preserved.

Still...

I like the idea of standing by what you say. I used to hate it when people sent me anonymous letters to the editor when I was in college. It's just cowardly. It takes no thought, no guts.
So we'll keep the format.

Rest assured that everything I write I given serious thought to, or at least wondered about from time to time.

Onward.

The best laid plans

2008-07-10T20:27:00.011-05:00

Well, I went to all this trouble to create this awesome blog.

It was going to be my escape portal. A place where I could vent. I would say whatever I wanted to say about anything, no matter how offensive, abrasive, over-the-top or politically incorrect -- all under the comfortable veil of Internet anonymity.

Dammit, I hate Grey's Anatomy. Hate it. More on that later.

Anyway, I dreamed of taking on hot-button issues and blasting away conventional mores with my in-your-face anecdotes and hell-if-I-care

attitude. It was going to be great, I tell you. I was going to be famous.

Then, my wife (that's her) logged on while I was in the middle of making this and somehow connected our family's blog to this site, so that any boob with a computer can look at me, her, my kid, my friends, my house, my car -- pretty much everything about me except my shoe size.

So what was going to be a filthy, razor-edged, swampy editorial biohazard is going to have to be something else entirely, because my real name is going to be linked to everything I post and I'm too fed up to make up a whole new fake identity on Gmail.

I wear a size 10 1/2, by the way.