MacDanno

I've recently discovered another major difference between men and women. Appreciation of ingenuity.

Examples-

My father-in-law is a neat guy. He's a blacksmith and a wood-worker and is always making all sorts of neat stuff. However, a couple weeks ago, he outdid himself.

We were up at S.A.'s family cabin and one of the Jeeps had a flat tire. As any logical person would do, Danno went to get his air compressor. This occasion was unique, however, because Danno's air compressor is HOME-MADE. He had taken an old propane tank and attached it to an old electric motor and a 50-year-old compressor turbine thingy ("Where does one get a 'compressor turbine thingy'?", you ask. Behind the shed, of course. Duh.) and attached them all to a wooden plank on wheels (for ease in moving). And, voila! A home-made air compressor.

Needless to say, we boys gathered around this magnificent beast expressing our awe at the skill and mental resources that one must posess in order to create such a spectactular example of human inginuity. (And, of course, taking pictures.) Danno was like MacGuyver in Santa's body.

The girls, on the other hand, stood around making jokes about "Daddy's pet compressor" and generally acting embarrassed as he pulled the compressor down the driveway by an attached string.

We boys discussed their indefensible behavior and hoped that it was a one-time occurence. Going unsaid was the common belief that this was not, in all probability, the case.

A few days later, I personally became the victim of this rediculous femine bias against ingenuity.

My wife, who is now about 4 1/2 months pregant, mentioned to me that it was almost time that the baby could begin to hear the sounds of the outside world. S.A. and I have discussed at some length the value in exposing an unborn baby to music while still inthe womb. I've even burned a couple cds specifically for that purpose.

Therefore, I went to get headphones to put on her stomach. Unfortunately, S.A. really hasn't gained any weight yet and, therefore, does not have enough of a tummy to attach the headphones to. However, since my headphone swivel, I figured I could just put them in a flattened position and attach them to her middle.

I ran to my closet and get a belt. I ran the belt through the headphones and ran back to Sarah to strap the headphones on her.

Inexplicably, she pushed me away. My wife, one of the smartest people I know, and also a person who agress with me about the importance of music early in development, would not allow me to strap the headphones around her middle because it looked silly. Now, we were alone in our bedroom. The only person who would see it would be me, and, to be honest, I've already seen her in a compromising position or two. (Remember, I've been present for a number of trans-vaginal ultrasounds.) Even the baby can't see the setup. He/she would only reap the rewards thereof.

But no. S.A. made it very clear to me that she WOULD NOT be wearing the headphones held on by a belt. If I wanted our unborn child to be able to listen to music, I was damn well gonna have to hold the headphones in place myself.

All this drama was over the fact that my setup looked a little bit unique. The brilliance of the invention, that it could be worn around the house or in bed without being concerned that they'd fall off, was completely lost to her.

Sheer silliness.

I'd love to believe that this disregard for ingenuity is unique in women sharing S.A.'s genetic makeup, but somehow I doubt it. It's a little bit depressing.

Laterz

7 things...

Stole this one from Andrew Andrew.

7 Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
___________________________________
1) Teach my kids to play baseball/softball, basketball, football, volleyball, and golf.
2) Give them the opportunity to decide that sports are a waste of time and that their time is better spent writing poetry. (And make sure they know I'll love 'em anyway.)
3) Take my son to every major league baseball stadium. (Yeah, it'd be cool with a daughter, too, but somehow, in my mind's eye...)
4) Golf in Scotland.
5) Record an album. Just me and a piano. (Okay, maybe a few friends on guitars and the like might be helpful, too.)
6) Become the President. (Of my kids' school board.)
7) Visit Prague with S.A. I may not have much of a sense of history, but it's her favorite place in the world and I truly want to share it with her.
__________________________________
7 Things I Cannot Do
__________________________________
1) Enjoy gross-out/sophmoric comedy movies. (Movies like "Wedding Crashers" and "Old School" make me want to punch people.
2) Walk more than 15 feet without "sprinkling". (This is my mom's term for whistling without enough air to really blow a note so it's just kind of airy sounding.)
3) Hear ANYTHING about our current president without becoming violently angry. I've actually stopped listening to NPR because I was afraid I was going to intentionally ram my car into an SUV at some point.
4) Keep my foot out of my mouth when regarding my wife's extended family. I actually LIKE her family, but I still manage to offend them regularly.
5) Convince myself that I do not actually NEED a Jeep. (Seriously, I am SO in need of a 12-step program.)
6) Make myself understand why appearances matter. Cars, houses, people, cribs, clothes... I'm just too logical, I guess.
7) Give up on humanity. Even time I come to terms with the idea that people in the U.S. are just not ever going to meet my standards, somebody goes and does something great and get my hopes up all over again. (My Mother-In-Law just offered up her home to any person or family who has been displaced my Hurricane Katrina. She lives in Northern Michigan but figures that if somebody makes it this far north, she'll definitely take 'em in. Kudos, Sylv. My Grandpa Beaver would be proud of you. So would Grandma Alice.)
______________________________
7 Things That Attract me to the same or opposite sex
______________________________
I'm nt goona say the cheeseball thing and put "a sense of humor", but only because it's not specific enough. Instead I'll lead off with-
1) A SHARP sense of humor. Nothing makes me laugh more than my wife shredding someone else. (I hope this doesn't make me a bad person.)
2) A flare for a witty turn-of-phrase. "Like ants on a twinkie," is one of the great similes of our time.
3) A great smile. And there is no other kind. Anyone is 100 times more attractive when they're smiling.
4) Hair. I never really knew I was a hair guy until I met my wife. Now, if I'm good, she'll let me brush her hair before bed.
5) Self-confidence. Know who you are and stand up for that person.
6) Intelligence. The ability to formulate a persuasive argument is SEXY.
7) Compassion and empathy. Nothing is more attractive than seeing that someone cares about something other than themselves.
_________________________
7 Things I Say Most Often
_________________________
1) "Bloody" I really do wish I was British.
2) "Bean" My pet name for S.A.
3) "Good grief!" I've worked really hard to curse less than I used to.
4) "Booger" Besides my obvious affinity for words beginning with "B", it's another one of those exclamations that keeps me from swearing at work.
5) "DUDE!" This one really only crops up when I'm around my friends from H.S. or college.
6)"If I was any father out on the left wing, the plane would flip over." (Describing my political views.) This first time I said this, I thought it was pretty witty. Years later, I don't find it nearly as charming. But people keep laughing at it, so I keep saying it. I'm a laugh whore.
7) "Yeesh..." I don't say this as much as I type it in email and IMs.
_______________________
7 Celebrity Crushes
_______________________
1) Vivica Fox. I'm not really a breast guy but, well, Yeesh...
2) Jessica Alba
3) Christina Ricci
4) Scarlett Johansen
5) Hilary Duff (S.A's gonna hate this one since I think she's still underaged and, as S.A. points out regularly, she has no neck.)
6) Natalie Portman
7) On VH1's "I Love the 90's", Jay & Silent Bob had a bit called "Guys I'd Go Gay For." #7 is my list that S.A. and I have joked about that the past couple years. In no particular order-
Hugh Grant, Phil Gordon (From Celebrity Poker Showdown), Dave Foley, and it seems like I'm missing someone, but I'm sure S.A. will point him out.

More Jeeps and The Fine Art of Placenta Building

Morning, all.

1st item. Today is my Anniversary. S.A. and I have now been married for 5 years. (Nate says this is our Nickel Anniversary and I have to give her something worth a nickel.) If you're having difficulty deciding what to give us as an anniversary present, send cash. Or baby stuff. But for God's sake, DON'T GIVE US A JEEP!

We had a somewhat long and involved "discussion" this morning because I received email for a gentleman in Tennessee who was interested in taking our baby grand piano of our hands (which really need to happen soon, by the way,) in exchange for a running, but still needing work Postal Jeep. Needless to say, this idea excites me. I REEEAAAALLLLYYY want a jeep. S.A. is concerned that once I have one, the charm will wear off and it will sit in our storage space covered in useless crap until the end of time. This is probably a valid fear, as I do have a track record that points to a certain lack of attention span and follow-through as far as my hobbies are concerned.

However, I am absolutely convinced that there is absolutely no way I would lose interest in this one. No matter, though. I told her that I have already made it clear on all my Jeep web sites (I told you I was fixated.) that I will not be accepting any donations for the time being. This is true. However, if this guy contacts me again with a good plan... Well, I shudder to think about it.

-------------------------------------

I stopped by "the boys" house last night on my way home from golf league. Johnny, Adrian, (Not a "boy", but she lives there anyway.) Trav, and Liam had a barbecue and I want to stop by even though I'd missed the actual food part. Anyway, it was really nice to see the boys, as well as some of their family members (Johhny's dad, Tim, was there as were Trav's mom and sister.). They were disappointed, however, that S.A. had not accompanied me, so I explained to them that she was already in bed.

That's what she does right now. She sleeps. She's explained to me that it takes a great deal of energy to build a placenta and I can't really argue much because I have never, personally, built one. Trav said I should try it. He figured I have a well equipped shop and a supply of jell-o. He figured the discussion would go something like this-

S.A.- "Get in here! It's time for dinner!"
Me- "I can't! Could you bring me some more jello? I'm trying to build a new placenta!"
S.A.- "You never let me have ANYTHING for myself!"

This is why I love those kids.

Laterz

How I Spent My Weekend OR Why Someone Should Invent Edible Radiator Fluid

Last weekend I went down to the In-Laws to work on Danno's Jeep. Well, technically, it's not a Jeep. It's a '42 Ford GPW. It's an original Jeep design form before "Jeeps" actually existed. Very sweet vehicle. However, he has decided that he would like to restore it to its original condition. It's gonna be awesome when it's done, but it has a very long way between here and there. So anyway, I got his permission for Jeff and I to work on it with him.

Let me tell you, the 3 of us combined offer a great deal of interest, a very decent knowledge of Jeep history, and VERY LITTLE mechanical know-how. This is why "Machine Gun Sally" has sat buried under mounds of miscellaneous crap in the garage for the past couple years. Nobody really knew how to get started and everybody was a little afraid to try.

Enter Yours Truly; Big Chief Leap-Before-Looking. No project is too daunting for me to get involved in it. This is largely due to the fact that I refuse to think about how difficult it might be before I get started. I figure the level of difficulty will be readily obvious once I'm into it, but by that time I'll have momentum working for me and I'll be able to push on through. As Danno said to me late Sunday afternoon, the project would never have gotten off the ground without someone like me to push it along. Of course I probably wouldn't have spent as much time spitting stuff up or have had such a horrible headache had we not started it, but hey... More on that later.

On Saturday night, we determined that we needed a 16' by26' space in which to work on the Jeep. Being as the only reasonably workable space was the garage which also had to house the 2 family daily drivers plus all the assorted stuff that always seems to gather in a garage, we decided our first task was to completely clean and reorganize the garage. It only took 4 or 5 hours. Sylvia was SO pleased at how good it looked. I think my willingness to do these projects is the reason she still allows me to come visit.

So Sunday morning, we dug into "Machine Gun Sally". With Danno, Jeff, and I, you have an interesting selection of personalities. Danno is somewhat introverted and he tends to be very hesitant to give orders. Jeff is also pretty quiet, but a little more willing to take control when he sees the need. I, on the other hand, am not at all shy in these situations. I may not know what I'm doing, but if nobody's telling me what to do, I'm darn well gonna do something. Thankfully, seeing that that was the case, both of the other 2 decided it was probably a good idea to give me specific tasks. We accomplished the first few tasks outlined by "All-American Wonder, Vol. 1" and were just getting to emptying the radiator when we were called in for breakfast. Jeff, who has MUCH more automotive experience than I, (and fits a little more comfortably under the Jeep than Danno,) was handling that task and discovered that the butterfly bolt that would unplug the radiator was stripped. He was being very careful not to make a mess because radiator fluid is toxic and we all know stories of pets dying from drinking it. Cuddles may not be my favorite animal in the world, but I don't actually wish her harm, so I, too, felt we should try to be careful. When we were not immediately successful emptying it out, we opted to go have breakfast and approach things later on with a clear mind (and a full belly).

Though Jeff had, thus far, been leading the charge (in his always logical, controlled manner,) both Danno and I finished eating before him and were itching to get back to work. (This was not shocking. Jeff tends to be a bit.. deliberate. Rachel often refers to him as "Grandma" because of his tendency to approach life at a very leisurely pace. I feel this is a bit insensitive, but I must admit, I make a concerted effort to relax when I'm with him, because I know moving at my normal, somewhat frenetic pace will not mesh well with his much more unhurried tempo.) We headed back out to the garage, where I set about removing the plug from the radiator.

I quickly found the right tool for the job and, following Jeff's instructions, opened the plug just a little, hoping for just a small trickle of radiator fluid which I could catch in a coffee can. Unfortunately, I found that radiator fluid doesn't like to trickle. Since the plug was still partially in, it could not exit in a controlled stream, but instead reacted to the plug like water from a garden hose does when you put your thumb over the end- It just all sprays sideways. Resultantly, I was getting very little fluid in the coffee can, but quite a lot elsewhere. Primarily in my hair, on my glasses, in my mouth, up my nose, etc. I, being a scientific genius, realized that if I just removed the plug entirely, the resulting stream would be much easier to catch. Somewhat surprisingly, I was RIGHT. The torrent of radiator fluid spewing from the core streamed happily, if somewhat rapidly, into the waiting coffee can.

It was at this point that I recalled Jeff saying something about needing an extra can so that when one can filled with fluid, the other could be set in place while we carefully disposed of the first. Realizing that my coffee can was filling much faster than Jeff, with his "controlled drip" theory, had probably anticipated, I swiftly set about finding an empty receptacle to put in place when it was needed. As you might guess, I was unsuccessful in finding one. I hastily attempted to replace the plug in the radiator. This resulted in my ingesting quite a bit more radiator fluid, but not in actually replacing the plug. At this point I gave up and watched the can overflow and radiator fluid continue to spew onto the garage floor.

I jumped up and went to get Danno's Shop Vac. I returned just as Jeff was entering the garage with a very contented, post-breakfast, expression. His look turned to one of abject horror when he looked at the area surrounding the Jeep, which now looked like Lake Antifreeze.

"Didn't you hear me say to let it out SLOWLY???" he asked incredulously. "And where is your extra can?"

Without bothering to explain myself, (I learned a long time ago that explanations are often pointless. Especially when you don't have a particularly good one.) I took the top off the shop vac to remove the dust filter. Jeff asked what I was doing and Danno explained that to vacuum up liquid, to remove the filter so it doesn't get ruined. It shocked me that Jeff, who I know owns his own Shop Vac, was not aware of this bit a vacuum protocol, and I honestly felt quite a bit better for a moment. After all, I may not know much (okay, anything) about emptying a radiator, but at lest I know how to operate a shop vac. Of course I stopped feeling superior when I realized that someone like Jeff never spilled, and thus never had to occasion to learn what to do with the dust filter. And moreover, if he did spill, he'd probably take the time to read the manual to decide how best to approach the situation. Sometimes working with smart people can be very humbling.

Anyway, once I finished cleaning up the mess in the garage, I took a minute to go out in back and cough up as much of the radiator fluid as I could. It turns out that it has a somewhat tongue-numbing effect, but other that that, I didn't suffer too many ill-effects from it. It did, however, leave me with a hell of a headache. Also, my next morning "sit-down-job", as my Grandpa would have said, was a little bit glow-in-the-dark. Ah, war stories...

Anyway, we all continued to work, and, by the end of the day, had made significant progress. So I feel a good time was had by all. I can't wait for the next Jeep-work weekend. Maybe I can electrocute myself or run myself over or...

Laterz

Jeeps, Diet Coke, and Other Harmful Addictions

First, a note on Diet Coke. I am a moderately intelligent, well-read, and generally aware person. I know that Diet Coke is full of chemicals which are, in all liklihood, not really meant to be ingested. I also know that caffeine is not particularly good for me. However, it's also sugar-free. The caffeine feeds my honest-to-gosh physical addiction. And it tastes good. If you think it's somehow incongruous that I am happy to profess the healthy goodness of Tofu smoothies yet I'm willing to power-slam gallons of a substance that has been shown to lead to cancer in labratory mice, you're right. I've just decided I don't care. I'm going to drink it anyway. That being said, please feel free to continue tellin gme how bad it is. Who knows, someday I might listen, and I'll certainly never be offended by other people looking out for my health. Thank you for your concern and continued support.

Okay, moving on.

I'm looking to buy an old Jeep. I love being in the woods, tooling around on 2-tracks, running through the occasionaly mud puddle, and just being out in nature. If you ever check out "Jeeping" web sites, the make it out to be this testosterone-laden, chest thumping, "MY Jeep is bigger than YOUR Jeep" kind of thing. That's not me. My father-in-law has a little postal jeep from the late 60's. I love it. The more time I spend bopping around with no specific end in mind, the more I enjoy it. I don't need to take a keg along or see how big a mud pud I can drive through or how large a log I can get over. I just want to be able to take my Jeep out and do my thing.

And therein lies the sticking point. I don't have a Jeep. I can borrow my Father-in-law's or my brother-in-law's, but they're not mine. Everytime I drive one of theirs, I worry that something will happen to it and it'll be my fault. (If you had my driving record, you'd worry too.) So I need a Jeep. Except no one seems to leave their old Jeeps sitting in the free pile at the end of their yard sale, and my wife is NOT cool with buying one right now. Something about not actually having any money and it being silly to spend money on something I might use 10 time s a year, tops. And the bitch of it is that I KNOW SHE'S RIGHT. It's completely illogical. I don't go North often enough to really get my use out of it. I know that I can always borrow one from a family member. I know NOTHING about auto mechanics, which is a major drawback when dealing with a vehicle that's over 25 years old and driven exclusively in the woods. I don't need a Jeep. Except I NEED A JEEP. I'm firmly fixated at this point and no logical argument will be able to free me of this urge. So right now I'm establishing my own charity. It's called the "Give Owen a Jeep Foundation" and it's sole purpose is to find an older Jeep that needs a loving home. So if you know of just such a Jeep, please let the owner know that there's a young man in Michigan who would love to take care of it. I'll wash it and feed it and make it feel pretty, I promise. Seriously, this is bordering on mania... But I've got to do something before this all ends up in divorce.

Alright, that's all for now. Laterz.