Five Things I Think, Nov 30

Well, dear readers, it seems maybe I have some more thoughts rattling around in this head of mine.  Here they come.

1) I think I am avoiding the scale this week, like so many of us.  I dove headfirst into Turkey Day, and the Friendsgiving that followed.  Since Wifefish makes one of the best turkey wine-lemon-herb rubs known to mankind, I enjoyed it liberally.  And often.  Then the gaming charcuterie just put the coffin nail in me.  Roll me out the door, boys, I'm ready to get at 'er.

2) I think that sometimes, the only solution to your woes is a run of antibiotics.  I recently suffered my way through a head cold that decided it wanted to become a sinus infection of epic proportions.  My nose was producing so much mucus I thought about putting a seashell on it and calling it a snail.  Today, I'm 3 days into said antibiotics, and it's funny how you can feel reunited with oxygen freely entering your lungs without gasping like a landed carp.  I am enjoying life after emigrating back out of East Snotmucustan.

3) I think this is going to be a very, very challenging year professionally.  The changes to the tax laws have produced an absolutely fucking stupid overhaul to the forms which does absolutely fucking nothing except make it a talking point that some dipshit can point to and call "simpler" because of the way the first fucking page looks. 
It invalidates the mental map in my head...for years I have been able to quickly scan the first two pages of a return and spot anything irregular at a literal glance.  Now, just so some chucklefuck can crow into a microphone that it is the size of a postcard, I will have to scan 6 additional schedules.  So your Schedule C (small business) used to flow right onto your return...now it takes a useless fucking detour into a new schedule before it gets there.  Simpler, my ass. 
What this means for me this year is a whole lot of new stress and late nights as I plow through the learning curve and re-map some neurons to memorize the new "simpler" forms.  I have never actually kept a bottle of scotch in the office, but I am considering it for this year.

4) I think I'm geekily excited to start family RPG night.  Little Danger has chosen the Star Wars RPG, and wants to play a smuggler who becomes a rebel spy.  I have had a lifetime of rewarding adventures around a game table with good friends, and I am happy to continue this for him.  Also, Star Wars is inherently cool, so...  
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I plan to set our campaign in the Legends universe (where the books and such were before the Disney takeover), a few days after the destruction of the first Death Star.  There's a lot of room to play in a galaxy far, far away.  And since the old expanded universe was shot down by the new movies with a proton torpedo in its exhaust port, I have a huge, ready-made pile of stories I can farm for plots.  It will be interesting to see how he leaves his mark on the galaxy.  I bet when all is said and done, that Little Danger shoots first.   

5)  I think the absolute most annoying thing about Continuing Education in my profession, and probably in a lot of others, is the goddamn bullshit test questions.  More specifically, the answers.  2 wrong answers, 1 right answer, and 1 almost right answer.  The almost right answer is the specific bullshit that annoys. 
I think that we either know the answer or don't, and I personally cannot fucking stand it when I have to carefully parse through each option just to make sure that what I am selecting as the right answer is in fact the right answer.  I know the shit, or I don't know it, and trying to trick me into answering wrong is not effective testing.  I have hated this shit since I was 8 years old.  I will likely hate it when I am 78. 

A few more expletives this time around, it seems.  Well, that's what happens when I come across things that grind my gears.  I hope your day/week/month/holiday season is freaking excellent. 

Five Things I Think, Nov 21

I have, of course, become a most infrequent writer. Here are my thoughts today.

1. I think I am one proud papa. In the last post, I discussed Little Danger's football season as it started. Well, here we are at the finish. He played almost every down this year, on both the offensive and defensive sides of the ball. Tight End on O-Line, and DE/DT at various times on defense, depending on whether they wanted him in the backfield or neutralizing a blocker. There's pride point one...
   A quick aside is necessary, I feel. Pride has become a lazy word in modern English. We use it for several feelings, several types of pride. Personal accomplishment, hubris, joy in another's accomplishments...I wish to point out that I am in category 3 here. This is that kind of pride that we should have in great measure, that feeling you get for someone else when they achieve, learn, and influence.
   By my unofficial count, he finished the season with only 2 games with no sacks. In those two, he helped cause sacks by being double, even triple teamed. He's a goddamn wrecking ball to the opponent backfield. Same with pancakes on the offensive side, I think he had just one game without putting a player on the turf. I lost count on tackles, and tackles for loss. He had 2 receptions on 2 point conversions. He played his heart out most of the time, in short. There's pride point two...
   
   
   
   
   
   The team pulled off two last minute miracle wins in the playoffs, which I may detail at another time. They were truly crazy plays, and I avoided cardiac arrest narrowly. They went to the Super Bowl, and though they did not win said Super Bowl, they fought their way into the history books for their league. They lost in double overtime, the first time in this league that a game had finished in 2ndOT. Double. Goddamn. Overtime. I mean, if you're gonna lose, that's the way to do it. They went down swinging, to mix sports metaphors. That would be pride point three...
   While Little Danger was appropriately wrecked emotionally after the game, it faded to a feeling of, if not happiness, then pride (category 1) in his team and his play by the end of the day. “We made history”, he said. Many parents were disappointed but honestly, for me, I couldn't even be upset...it was a hell of a game, and I watched my boy make some amazing key plays...a couple huge blocks to open holes, a moment where he parted the two double teaming him like Moses and the Red Sea, and a massive TD saving tackle in the first OT period that got him so amped he jumped into one of his coaches arm's like Baby coming out of the corner. And yes, I had the time of my life watching.
   It was a hell of a season, and now we have a break of about a minute and a half before basketball games start. Raising a jock is not for the weak.
    
   
   
2. I think it is quite strange living in 2018 (for another month or so). The level of importance people ascribe to the weirdest, most petty shit reaffirms in my mind that even though we have evolved and developed, our biology just hasn't caught up to the “first world” social strata. We need to think of things, due to biological imperatives, in survival mode, and it makes a lot of otherwise OK human beings do some really questionable shit as they become territorial over some of the stupidest things. For a robust example, see modern politics or anything blown up into social media drama in the last ten minutes. 
   
   
3. I think Fleetwood Mac is fucking amazing. We had the opportunity to see them in concert recently, and we carpe'd that diem like your very own Dangerboy at a beer buffet. Little Danger lit up like a Christmas Tree, and enjoyed the crap out of it. Wifefish got to cross a thing off her bucket list, always a happy thing. I soaked it in and squealed like a group of adolescent girls sitting on a pile of squeaky toys in a 70s car chase.
   As a drummer, watching Mick Fleetwood behind that drum set is a special treat. The absolute, sheer, childlike joy he takes in making music is a gift I hope he never stops giving. I smiled every time he made Drum Face. And I am still smiling long after, and reflecting on the way I make music. And damn, but he has fun. The obligatory drum solo was interactive and hilarious, as he asked the audience why you should never leave a drummer alone on stage...because “He will unleash the hoooouuuuuuunnnnddddssss!!!”  Dude then went on a drum rampage with their current hand percussionist.  Tasty, tasty stuff.  
   
   
   
   The new lineup is pretty good, too. Yeah, I could go all sentimental about the lack of Lindsey, but let's face it: Fleetwood Mac is an ode to what people who get on each other's nerves can create together...great music, yes, but also great drama.

4. I think Ford motor company can kiss my ass. We have a Ford Focus that has problems with its car alarm. At any random time, if locked, it may decide it wants to sing us the song of its people. 4 trips to the service department have not fixed this problem.
   We had to go to arbitration over this thing.  I prepared heavily, discussing the case with my very favorite attorney, and had my case ready to lay out.  Their position looked like it had been written by an intern, and we were pleased to show up to a situation where it appeared the arbitrator was tired of their shit before we even began.  
   The ruling is a fun read, at least for one who went toe to toe vs big company lawyer and won.  It basically says in legalese, "Well, your points are interesting but ultimately full of shit."  I find it pretty goddamn annoying that they decided to fight us on this, rather than just fix the goddamn car.  So now, thanks to the lemon law, they must repurchase the vehicle, plus all interest and incidental charges.  
   We will, of course, not be buying another fucking Ford.  This annoys me; my first vehicle was a badass Ford van.  My next vehicle will be anything but a fucking Ford, as their attempt to let us twist in the wind with a schizophrenic car alarm left far more than a bad taste in my mouth. 
   
   
5. I think it's crazy that we are already staring down the barrel of holiday season. One thing I will say for a football schedule, it makes the days fly. I'm girding my loins to get my shopping done, and loosening my belt in anticipation of the ridiculous amounts of badass food in my future.

And that's what I think.

The Nature of Pride, vol 1

In case you don't know, Little Danger has decided his goal in life is to be a Pro Football Player.  Once upon a time this was cute, like when he watched the OSU Buckeyes championship game while very young, and decided he wanted to be a "Buckleguy".

As time has gone on, it appears this is a true calling.  He loves the foosballs.  Loves it.  Can't get enough.  The boy asked Santa for a tackle dummy.  Santa brought him a blocking pad too.  If this is his dream, well, I guess my face will have some cleat marks as I work to lift him to it.

Fortunately for him, the kid has talent.  This is year 2 of playing wee football, and he is tearing it up.  This post, in case you need a warning label, is not just humor but bragging.  I am about to engage in that most parental of things, bragging on the kid.

I am in love with how much Little Danger cares.  I've been watching him at practice, helping the other kids who don't get it yet (they are combined 1st and 2nd graders, and he helps the younger ones.)  I've watched when a teammate falls down, or feels like they can't make the long run to the tree across the field and back.  He is right there, helping them up, running with one arm on a teammate's back, pushing them without giving them shit.  Convincing a kid that just doesn't want to run to go ahead and sprint the last 20 yards.  He may be future team captain material, and I didn't teach him how to do that, at least not directly. 

The summer saw him at multiple football camps, because Wifefish believes as I do that we CAN spoil a kid, but not with stuff.  We are spoiling him with experiences and love, and that's just the way it's going to be.  He worked skill drills with NFL players, Buckeye players, and UD players before he showed up to his first practice.

The boys put down a good, solid game 1 last week.  The O-line, on which Little Danger features as tight end, allowed zero sacks.  At the bantam level, that's pretty impressive.  Watching 1st and 2nd graders play football should often be set to Yakity Sax, and yet they managed a solid game.  The boys served up pancakes like they were the griddle chefs at IHOP, and treated the opposing defense like Gandalf treated the Balrog on the bridge.

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It was exciting, to say the least.

Saturday, we attended game 2 of the season.  This was an away game against a historically tough opponent.  This opponent's system has produced more than one NFL player.  Little Danger was, of course, psyched and ready to rock.

I have to admit, his first half was not his best play.  He missed three blocks that he should have made, for losses on each.  Maybe he wasn't awake, maybe he wasn't focused, but where he had been a goddamn human wall the previous week, tying up two players at a time, he had become a turnstile. And I don't mean he got beat by the opposing DE, I mean he just one handed it and turned his body the wrong way and watched the guy go by, like he was bullfighting instead of blocking.  Wifefish and I both commented that he needed to wake up. 

I don't know what the coaches said to him at halftime.  Little Danger tells me he decided to show them what they wanted.  His second half, he lit up like a radioactive Christmas tree.  He started serving up the pancakes and holding the line.  No one would go past him for the rest of the game.  He fired off a key lead block for a massive gain up the left side.

Where he really lit it off, though, was at defensive tackle.  Suddenly, his beast was out of the cage.  It was time for Little Danger to give out some free hugs.

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He blasted through the line, and I remember saying "Oh my dear word."  Which might strike many of you as odd, but you must recall that parents are not allowed our full range of expression at kid's games, so I couldn't scream out "FUCK YEAH!!!!" as I might ordinarily do.  Hot on the QB's heels, he was there for the hand off to the running back and, well, let's just say he escorted that young man to the ground for his appointment with the turf.

Thus began a spree of tackles for loss.  Three sacks joined his 4 pancakes, and a couple more tackles for loss sprinkled on top.  Coaches were high fiving him.  Hell, one coach ran over and high fived ME, and parents around us started sharing in the frivolity.

"Watch number 5!" the opposing coaches yelled.  I said "Now here's where they start double teaming him."  Indeed, that's exactly what they did.  One of the parents mentioned that I must be disappointed by this, as LD wouldn't be scoring any more sacks.

"Nope," I said, "This means somebody else gets to make a play."  Evidently I was waxing prophetic, as the two kids driving my boy backwards left a hole for one of his teammates to go render their QB horizontal.  "They can double team him all day," I continued, "That just makes him happy."

So, a hard fought defensive battle came to a close, and the boys scored their second win, just 6-0.
"What did you feed him today?" The coach asked.  A banana and a granola bar.

He feeds himself on his dreams, though.  I am proud of him.  Not just because he has talent, and not in any way for me, excepting perhaps the elation of that pride.  I am proud that he overcame a rough start and found his motivation.  I am proud that he still gets team play, and is perfectly happy to make a hole for someone else to make a play...he beams when he high fives you for doing something good.

This of course, makes me beam the light of the Proud Pappa forth unto the world as well.  So, forgive me if I just can't shut up about him.  It's just the nature of pride.