A little goes a long way

Call me Ishmael. What a great opening. I was reading a book that discussed this very line. It delved into the idea of changing the punctuation of the line and how a single comma could irrevocably and completely destroy this thing of beauty. For example, "Call me, Ishmael." Could imply that the author wanted a dude named Ishmael to return his call. Or if you put the comma in a different place, "Call, me Ishmael." makes it sound that the author is a caveman introducing himself to another named Call. Which makes no sense whatsoever.

Even though this wasn't the point of the book, it brought up a good point: Punctuation is important. It can ruin an amazing book or it can launch an illustrious career in novel writing. So, watch your punctuation, you never know who's reading your writing,

Just kidding, I put that comma there on purpose just to throw you off.

Going green

In an effort to save the planet, I will be making this a short post in order to reduce personal carbon dioxide emissions, dihydrogen monoxide consumption, and oxygen intake. Thanks for your understanding.

Does an elephant really never forget?

To begin with, the picture above is exactly what you think it is. Those are elephants. I was there. I took the picture. I'm scarred and I wanted you to know my pain.

On to the serious stuff.

Sometimes I wonder if the me of 15 years ago would be proud of the me that I am today. Introspective soliloquies typically progress to rambling after the initial point. So rather than bore you with more, I shall stop there.

Can I have what that guy is on

Sometimes when I began to post, the words just seem to appear. I sit down at the computer and inspiration strikes as my fingers began to navigate their way around the keyboard seemingly of their own free will. Actually it's quite the experience because I will be sitting there, staring at the screen wondering what's going to happen next. Once I was sitting at the computer and my fingers started typing a scary story - it scared the willies out of me.

But I digress, today is one of those days. I decided that I needed to blog, but I didn't know what to write about, so I just sat down and let my fingers work their magic. I'm sorry. I didn't know they wouldn't be at the top of their game today and they would produce this debacle. I recently read a story about a guy who received whole arm transplants. The doctors think it will be about two years before they know if the new arms will work or not. I wonder if I could get other magic fingers transplanted to replace these defective ones. They are certainly pretty lackluster. We'll see.

Barely even a post

As the loyal reader probably knows, my wife and I have two dogs. To help catch up any new people let me explain. No, there is too much. I will summarize: I have two dogs. 

Anyway, since one of the dogs has slowly been driving us crazy, we enlisted the services of a crack team of specialists to help us figure out how to control our dog. The pet psychic really wasn't much help. He seemed to think our dog was some Confederate General trying to communicate to us from the grave. But he wouldn't tell us the general's name or what he wanted - we were supposed to figure it out from listening to the dog. The pet psychologist thought the dog was acting out because of abandonment issues. We did get her at the pound (the dog, not the psychologist) which led some credence to the diagnosis, but we couldn't really figure out how to work the dog through her abandonment issues so we moved on. The dog whisperer really tried. He tried hard. But I'm pretty sure he was blind because he kept whispering into the ear of a stuffed bear that sits on our couch for decoration and, well, things didn't progress like we were hoping. The exorcist was just a bad call on my part. We're not even going to go there. We also tried asking a ninja, because ninjas can do anything. The only problem is, ninjas are hard to find, if they're any good. So we gave up on that one. The plumber stopped by that day and so we asked him too. He was less than enthused. Our last hope was the dog trainer. 

He came highly recommended: trained by Israeli special forces, able to type 83 words per minute, fluent in five languages, marathon runner, chocolate-dipped cricket eater, and brother to three - he was definitely exactly what we were looking for. Basically he took one look at the dog and said, "She needs more exercise. Run her lots every day." Then he left.

Amazingly he was right. So now we have to very calm dogs. And my wife and I are in very good shape. Everyone wins. Except that Confederate General guy, I'm still not quite sure what he's trying to say. 

Ode to Beaker - the funniest muppet ever

I stumbled on this quite by accident, but it's pretty awesome. Generally I try not to trawl youtube for funny videos, but this one fell in my lap. Enjoy.

72 and sunny beats 108 and sunny any day

We flew out to California for a family meeting in San Diego last week. But we decided that all work and no play is bad for you health. So my beautiful wife and I stopped by Disneyland for a couple of days where we met up with our cousins.

I love Disneyland. I've read the books, visited the park a bazillion times, talked to the guides, read the websites, and still I can't get enough. But the best Disney experience is visiting the park with little kids. Their wonder at the rides, their excitement, their unbridled giddiness, all make for an unforgettable trip.

This is us on the very first day, getting ready to finally enter the park.

This is me along with my littlest cousin. Right after this picture was taken, he beat me on the head and yelled, "Let's go horsey!" Neigh.

This is the proudest day of my wife's life - she got her driver's license. Of course, my seven year old cousin got hers at the same time.

Okay, so we asked a Disneyland employee to take our picture. She said, "Act like you're scared of the boulder. It will be a cool picture..." So I decided to. My wife thought that would be silly, so she decided not to. Thus, we get this beauty below.

I think the cousins liked playing in the fake Disneyland firehouse more than the actual rides. We spent somewhere near a half hour in there and they had a blast. If you ever go to Disneyland, visit the firehouse just off of Mainstreet. Spend a half hour in there and see how much fun you have. It's almost as good as Indiana Jones.

After Disney, we took a train (yes people still do that) down to San Diego. We spent the next four days relaxing at the beach. The family meeting? We met for about two hours Sunday morning and then broke for lunch. Then we met for another hour that evening before dinner called. Since we stayed pretty much right on Mission Beach, we rode bikes along the boardwalk everywhere we went. A lot of time was spent on the beach or in the ocean. And despite the fact that I am so white I am practically see-through, I am the only one who escaped without a significant burn. SPF 70, it wins every time.

Below are our family pictures from the vacation taken at the beach house.

Teaser

For those of you getting antsy, wondering when the next post will be, your wait is over. For those of you who hadn't even noticed anything was wrong, shame on you. My lovely wife and I just got back from a wonderful week in California. Tomorrow I will have lots of pictures. Today, I've got nothing.