My son said to my wife …

Ah, the simple wisdom of a four year old.

I saw a seeing eye dog today. It had a sign with the following text on it.

My wife should get a sign like that for me.

So now I have gmail invites. If you want one drop me a line or leave a comment (no spam please). First five people get one.

Of course, I don’t expect anyone needs one at this point, as I seem to be the last person to get a gmail account anyway.

As one co-worker noted “You are so, two months ago.”

Someone finally deigned to send me a gmail invite. I was starting to wonder how socially inept I must be in order to rank so low, even on the digerati dork pecking order.

At least I didn’t have to beg.

I’ve never been one to use free web based email, having had my own server for a long time. I’ll be curious to see if I like it, and whether it becomes a spam trap.

To the man in the McDonalds playland who was screaming at me when my child allegedly pushed his child.

1. I am glad to discipline and watch my own children. I am also glad you brought the incident, which I couldn’t see from my vantage point, to my attention.
2. You need to step back at least a good foot and stop the screaming. I don’t tolerate my children pushing, biting, or yelling at other kids. I expect immature behaviour from the two year olds, but not the adults.
3. If you think I am not paying sufficient attention to my own children, give me a chance to rectify matters before you start screaming.If you hadn’t been so belligerent to me, your children would have received an apology from mine, and they could have experienced seeing them given swift and severe consequences.
4. Kids playing rough on a playground or playland is no reason to be a beligerent ass. The playland is a bit of a free for all, where the parents are slighlty disconnected from the children by the deisgn of the tubes. All parents seem to struggle with occasional roughhousing. The kids are just learning manners. Maybe you should consider learning some yourself.
5. Be sure to talk to the right parents instead of walking around belittling each parent in turn hoping to find the right parent.

Until we meet again, Cheney Off!

I tried a new restaurant in North Oaks named Tria back in mid July. My bride and I had a delightful Saturday morning brunch there. The restaurant has a nice substantial oaken feel to it. The decor is sort of old world, mediterranean, california-winery style.

I had the eggs Benedict, which IMHO are the best north of Chez Collette at the Sofitel. They were done perfectly, and had a truffle shaving on top. The hollandaise was creamy and fresh tasting with just the right amount of bite. They did use brioche instead of the traditional english muffin, but it was very, very good anyway.

It’s nice to have a choice in dining in the Northern Suburbs, when you want a little nicer atmosphere. The prices weren’t too bad, especially for the brunch items. I haven’t been there for dinner yet, but plan to go their soon.

You can check out the strib review, although I am sure the link will dissapear into the black hole of “registration required” at some point.

What is it that makes you so happy that you literally dance for joy?

I heard this question posed today. The speaker indicated that the day the Cubs go to the World Series and win, he and his family will dance for joy. I understand this feeling well. I grew up hearing about the glory years of the Green Bay Packers and the coaching reign of St. Vincent Lombardi. Unfortunately, I heard about the glory years during the 1980′s where their win loss record was a dismal 66-85. By the early nineties, I had pretty much given up on the Packers. But thankfully Farve, Holmgren, White and their teammates brought the excitement back to Packer football. I danced for joy when they beat San Francisco in the playoffs or when they trounced their opponents in their first Super Bowl. I understand what dancing for joy is. I’ve danced, deliriously, oblivious to all others.

Lately, nothing much makes me dance. Don’t mistake that for depression. It’s not a case of the blues, rather it’s a recognition that the high notes are missing to some degree.

The birth of my children made me dance, the hard work of parenting has left me feeling more subdued.

Buying my house made me dance, but caring for it has left me feeling subdued.

Sometimes I think a new gadget or responsibility will make me feel like dancing, but it never lasts long.

Backpacking restores my sense of being alive, but it doesn’t make me dance. Perhaps if I took a longer trip, I would feel the dancing spirit at the end.

Am I in a rut or is this normal for life lived with responsibilties and cares?

Perhaps I need to change the music (metaphorically) I am listing too. Maybe the music I am listening to isn’t danceable.

This question “What makes you dance?” isn’t too different from the classic “What would you do if money weren’t an issue?” Followed by “Why aren’t you doing that?” Follow your bliss.

Elise is three years old today. What a great three years it has been. I am looking forward to many more.

Check out opensecrets and see where each candidate is geting their money. Lot’s of really good aggregate data here.

Reminds me of fundrace which lets you snoop on your neighbors political donations.

I am half way through “We the Media”, by Dan Gillmor. It’s a good read and it makes me think that I should be taking my blogging a little more seriously. The entire book is available for d/l free and it’s licensed under a CC License. There is also a related blog.

I often censor my thoughts about politics and life when I post. After reading this book, I am considering being much more open about what I write about. Don’t worry, this blog won’t become a political screed, but perhaps I’ll post a few more serious items from time to time, with a little less navel gazing.