Sunday, September 25, 2005


In the Old Navy dressing room:

Daughter to Mother: These make me look short
Mother to Daughter: You are short.

Nothing like your own mother to keep things in perspective.

Friday, September 16, 2005

I'm just sayin

On the way in this morning I saw a duely truck advertising "Old World Construction". Sort of common around here to see trucks like that adverstising their small buisnesses.

On this specific truck, the owner had his name printed:
Murdock J. Mackenzie 3rd
Ok so I think if you're pompous enough to announce that you are thrice the generation of your family name, AND you run a company with the name "Old World" in it. That mayperhaps you should print your name as follows:
Murdock J. Mackenzie III
What does "3rd" tell me, that you're alittle more common man than "III"? I'm just sayin, but hey the guy drives a duley, we'll just chalk it up to being a redneck...

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Bird by bird

"Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three months to write. [It] was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder, paper, and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder and said 'Bird by bird buddy. Just take it bird by bird.'" -- From the Book Bird by Bird by AnnLamott

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

School's out forever

I'm guessing here as in most of the country kids have gone back to school. I don't have any kids myself to verify this, but I think the long lines of kids loitering on the street early in the morning and the big yellow buses driving all over everywhere are a good indication.

Since moving I've found that I now commute to work on one particular school bus route, which I've come actually to find quite entertaining. The bus that I always seem to catch at the right time, stops at two places along my commute. The first stop is an apartment complex. I didn't know they allowed so many children to live in apartment complexes, I'd almost be willing to bet there is some sort of underground smuggling at this particular place if my rational mind and caffeine didn't take over. Anyway this is an interesting group of children, mostly girls, including a set of twins. Every morning as they walk away from their mothers standing in there in mismatched pajamas and flip flops (I could be a mother btw just on this description alone), with looks of "thank god" on their face, the little girls wave back to their mothers, almost walking backwards most of the time, they wave and wave and wave and wave. It's almost like they are getting on the titanic and will never be seen again type wave. Soon after, however, it is apparent that their very own mothers are forgotten as they hold hands and skip down the aisle of the bus, to crowd together and talk about whatever exciting things little girls talk about these days.

The second stop is outside of a house, not but 1/2 mile down the road. Now, why this particular child can't hike it down to the apartment complex bus stop, I do not know. But when I was a kid....well you get the picture. This kid I think is my favorite morning entertainment so far. I've been on this commute/bus route for about a week now and everytime we come to the house, the exact same thing happens. (Maybe next week I can get the kid to pick out some lottery numbers for me since he is so predictable) This slight blond haired gangly little boy with his big spiderman backpack walks down the driveway with his mother. His mother is always well dressed, seemingly on her way to work soon after I assume. Anyway, every day this little boy walks confidently with his mother down the long drive way to the awaiting school bus doors. He usually takes one step into the bus, and then begins the tantrum. We're talking flailing arms, and crying, and screaming (I can't ever hear the screaming over the loud Sinead O'Conor I have blasting, but I can certainly see the kids tonsels). I'm sure his mother would like nothing less but to beat this child into submission, but I suppose one has to respect the innocence of the other children already on the bus. So after about 3 minutes of a tantrum, arms and legs failing, sitting down on the ground, mighty spiderman backpack deflated, his mother picks him up and drags him back to the house, perhaps to ensue beating behind close doors I'm not sure, but the kid always seems relieved not to have to get on the bus, and walks head held high in defiance back to the house.

Ah childhood, it's days like this that I miss it. I wish that I too could walk up to the mighty doors of work, throw my badge down, cry and scream, and flail, and squash my texas longhorn computer bag into the concrete. And that somehow my mother would magically appear, cover me in a james brownesqe cape, and walk me home. Ah well I suppose in all things there are repercussions, in the kids case, not being able to sit for a week, and in mine, not being allowed to sit for a week and collect a paycheck.

Oh the irony.

Thursday, September 08, 2005


Grass is always greener syndrome 1
The Sam 0

Monday, September 05, 2005

For the pessimist and protestant in all of us

Things to Think

Think in ways you've never thought before,
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it's not necessary to work all the time, or that it's
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

-Robert Bly