Cold, but not unbearable

I just got back from walking the hound. Great night! It's in the low 20s, the sky is crystal clear, the not quite full moon was hanging low in the sky, and the stars were twinkling. Really, they were!

A fine blanket of snow was mostly intact on lawns, trees, and bushes, but thankfully the roads and sidewalks were clear (at least in the 'burbs east of Seattle). The only part of me that was cold were my cheeks - and no, I wasn't wearing my flannel chaps, so don't go there - and I went back in time to my Boy Scout days, where I truly learned what cold was.

See, back in the day, our troop used to make an annual snow camp. That's right, pack up your long johns and mummy bags, boys, 'cause it's gonna be a c-o-l-d one! We'd head into the North Cascades and set up camp - you guessed it - in the snow. The trusty dome tents were pitched on a patch of hand (boot) flattened snow, and the days spent romping about, snow-shoeing, igloo-making (at least a reasonable facsimile thereof), Coleman stove cooking, and other winter delights.

But the real fun began at dusk, and continued on to morning. You had to strip off all your wet clothes, change into dry togs if necessary, and slip into the down-filled mummy bag before you went numb. Boots, wool socks, outerwear, and your hats/gloves needed to stay in the tent with you overnight. Why? Ever try to slip on frozen boots in the morning? There you have it.

And should nature call after you were bedded down, well, that did sucketh verily. You had to exit your cocoon, scamper to the tree or latrine, do your biz, and then get back in to your bag. Of course, you disturb your tent mate(s) and freeze your nipples off in the process. Ask me later if these trips were worth it.

Finally, morning! We would stay in our tents as long as possible, until the adults chased us out. Bastards! Exiting the relative warmth of your bag and tent was never pleasant. Dressing in clothes that were not always warm at first was not fun. Even less fun if your boots were frozen!

In hindsight, these trips were worth it. Lessons on how to stay warm have stayed with me all these years later, augmented by the memory of some minor suffering on several of the campouts. Also, if you have never experienced someplace like Minnesota in the dead of winter (you know, -50 to -70 with wind chill factor), you really can't complain about the cold.

So I really had no complaints on my walk tonight. It was cold, but I walk fast, dress wisely, and try not to let it get to me mentally. That, and the stark realization that the homeless have to face the cold on a regular basis with little to no break from it, so yeah, I have no complaints about the cold.

Reality Bites

To quote King Theoden, "How did it come to this?" Of course, the King and his men were bracing for battle, and I only speak of reality television. But seriously, people. Are the suits at the networks just incredibly fucking lazy, or have they hit the nail on the head, and they are only giving the people what they want (in other words, meeting or exceeding their bottom line)?

Let me see, where to begin? Deion Sanders. Luther Campbell. Hulk Hogan. Brooke Hogan. Real Housewives. Date My Ex. I Love Money. New York. Well, you get the idea. Way too many shows to list.

I never bought in to shows like Survivor. So sue me. When I finally did cave in a little to the genre, it was only for Top Chef. You know, they actually have to cook something. Sure, there's always some minor drama or tension between the contestants, but I can live without that. I just want to see what they can cook. Mikey's Snickers and Cheetos masterpiece was the best Quickfire Challenge recipe ever!

Now back to shows like the train wreck that is the Deion Sanders show. What exactly is the appeal? Is it when you take a person, even a famous, rich person, and show the world a day in the life, the appeal is that they are human, just like you and I? You see Deion interacting with his hot wife, his kids, and you just sit back and let the hijinks ensue. For the most part, all I see is Deion roaming around his mansion on his little Rascal scooter thingy. Bor-ing.

If I didn't like to have the idiot box on while I'm doing my chores, I would have missed out on this current fad in American pop culture. Curse my weakness!

USA 1 - Guatemala 0

The conditions were just horrible, and I hear the weather was bad too. The U.S. beat Guatemala 1-0 in front of a hostile crowd at Mateo Flores in Guatemala last night in an ugly, ugly match.

First of all, I will say that Guatemala has a very talented side. They move the ball well, and pressed the attack all night, especially in the second half. But that is where my praise for them ends. They clutch, grab, hit, dive, and cry like few other teams I've seen in recent memory. Yes, most teams do the same, I'm just saying Guatemala did it and then some. There have probably been cleaner pickup games between the Crips and Bloods, that's all I'm saying.

The hit on Eddie Lewis was just plain sick, and I don't mean that in a good way. The guy who hit him led high, and arrived late. I doubt FIFA will do anything, but I wish they would. That could have been a lot worse. Oh, and way to show how classy you are, Guatemala fans. As Lewis is being treated, officials had to hold up a riot shield to keep debris from hitting him as he lay prone on the ground. Nice touch.

Carlos Ruiz, now there's another class act. Way to kick Tim Howard in the head! And you wonder why he wanted to rip your head off instead of shaking your hand to kiss and make up. And the guy who took a kick at Carlos Bocanegra after he scored? Little kid stuff. Grow the fuck up.

When did international football get so ugly? Why do the refs let both sides get away with all the pushing, kicking, and shirt-grabbing? It's like the clutch-and-grab days of the NHL and the thug life antics of the NBA and NFL have wormed their way into the beautiful game, and I don't like it at all. Play the game, play the game hard, but cut out all the chickenshit, okay? Please? I really hope Cherundolo learned that you always get caught when you retaliate. Be the bigger man next time.

The MNT did well to escape with the road win, but they are going to need to play better in future matches.

She Sells Seashells by the Seaside

Took a family vacation to Seaside, Oregon recently. We typically take two vacations each summer, one to Lake Chelan, WA and the other to a destination on the Pacific Ocean - Cannon Beach, Seaside, Pacific Beach (WA), etc.

As always, the kids love digging in the sand, flying kites, beachcombing, and wading in the surf. And when they are not at the beach, they are in the swimming pool. Nights are spent watching movies and perhaps playing a little bit on their Nintendo DS. We had to make the drive to Cannon Beach (a mere 6-8 miles down the road from Seaside) in order to visit Bruce's Candy Kitchen. I stood outside with the family hound while the wife and kids shopped for sugar.

I HATE dealing with traffic clusterfucks, especially in small towns like Cannon Beach. It's one of those times when you have to suck it up and deal with it, because you want the kids to remember how fun it was, and not how many people you cussed out or ran over.

Good memories are what we're shooting for when we take these trips. I totally dig it when the kids are back here in The Shire, and they go on and on about very specific memories taken from any vacation they've ever been on. I still remember feeding raccoons in the Yosemite National Forest when I was a kid. My parents still remember me falling into one of the local creeks/rivers.

One of these days, when the youngest of the three kids is old enough, we'll brave a trip to Disneyland or another similar account-draining funhaus.

On sort of an anti-fun note, school starts in about two weeks. Back to packing lunches, multiple trips to bus stops, homework, PTA meetings, and all that stuff. The kids are still young enough that they are looking forward to heading back to school. Heh. That, I'm told, will change one day.

Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies...

"Daddy, how did Uncle Mikey die?"

We were driving around the village today, and the kids were talking about how blue the sky is and heaven. You know, heavy stuff like "What do clouds taste like?" and "Can we really eat anything we want in heaven?" Oh, and my favorite: "What do meat-eating dinosaurs eat in heaven? Do they chase us around, or eat our pets?" All good questions in my opinion.

My answers were pretty much on the level: "I guess clouds taste like whatever you want them to taste like." Also, "Sure, you can eat anything you want. But eating deep-fried Kit Kat bars drizzled with fudge every day might get old, you know?" And "Well, I guess Mr. Allosaurus would probably be happy chasing around clouds shaped like a big 'ol brontosaurus."

And then my daughter hit me with the Uncle Mikey question. She's almost eight. The boys are almost four and six. I paused. What do I say? The honest parent in me says I should tell the truth. The realistic parent in me says I should phrase my answer in an ambiguous sort of way, without telling an outright lie. In this case, realism trumped honesty. At least at the ages the kids are at right now.

I mean, come on, do I really want to tell them that Uncle Mikey sat on his couch, put a gun to his head, and blew his brains out? Not right now, I don't. That can of worms is for another time, another sunny day, another discussion about heaven, blue skies, and things to eat in the afterlife, whatever that may be.

"Well, Uncle Mikey had something wrong with his head. He was sad and confused a lot." I paused again, thinking of how to better explain things without going into Suicide 101. Lucky for me, I was bailed out by Target. "Daddy," my daughter asked "can we get a treat at Target?"

So we picked up a treat at Target and swung by our FLGS (Friendly Local Gaming Store) to look at all the cool (geeky) stuff on the shelves. I know the Uncle Mikey question will come up again at some point. And I'll be ready with the honest answer when the kids are older.

Birthday Season

"HAL, open the pod bay doors."
"I'm sorry, Dave, I can't do that."
"HAL, just open the goddamn pod bay doors! I have three cakes to design and bake between now and the end of October or my kids will hate me forever."
"Well, since you put it that way, Dave, come on in. My bad."

Here in The Shire, birthdays for the wee ones pile up fast. I'm talking mid-September, the end of September, and the end of October. Three birthdays in less than two months. What were we thinking? Heh, well, I guess I know what *I* was thinking...

Mom taught me how to bake, and I'm happy that I actually listened and retained her lessons. As easy as it is to buy a store-bought cake, I take a certain measure of pride in crafting birthday cakes for my kids. I've made a dog cake, a mud cake in the back of a Tonka truck, and a Lord of the Rings cake ("They have a cave troll!").

Now keep in mind, I'm no Duff (of Charm City Cakes/Ace of Cakes fame), so my creations, while fun, have been rather crude to date. So this year I decided to work on my technique. I visited cakecentral.com for some ideas, tips, and hints. I hope my new-found culinary knowledge pays off this time around! I'll post pics of the aftermath for your amusement.

If anyone has any favorite sites and/or tips, please share them. I'm always open to suggestions. Thanks!