Passing the torch (for the tree)

This year Eryn decided she was in charge of setting up the Christmas tree.  She's familiar with the color coding scheme involved in our fauxvergreen, and she's plenty tall, so she didn't want any help. As a bonus, she's much more conscientious about bending the ends of the fronds so they're fluffed out and ornament ready.

Level one!


Getting taller.  The glasses had to come off.


The top!  She does still need the step stool.


The tree.  Not yet finalized.  I'm sure my shoddy lighting work is evident in this picture when you check out all the non-lighted gaps.  Our old lights are slowly burning out and I'm too lazy to fix them by investigating them one at a time, so I moved to some LED lights last night but didn't get enough.  Two strands was at least one strand short, maybe more.  And I still have to remove the old lights.  Some rework is necessary.  But I'm on agile projects, so this is just Iteration 0.

That large package is the very first Christmas present under the tree.  I ordered it early, so now Eryn has to look at it for a month.  It's driving her a bit nuts.

Here's Eryn at work:
and stage 2...

Pumpkin Head

I forgot I had these on my camera.  Some leftovers from Halloween.  My wife as Pumpkin' Head.



Eryn as Pumpkin' Head.  Although she was much more squeamish about holding on to the newly carved pumpkin.  She has issues with pumpkin guts.


The cat as Pumpkin' Head.  She has even more issues with pumpkin guts than Eryn has.  Shortly after this shot was taken, she bolted.  Refusing to allow the jack o' lantern to be placed over her head.

Fashion Sense

Kyle left his jacket at my house on my birthday.  There's a picture of me wearing it, but you can't see my face.  More of an in-the-mirror picture.  I'll have to fix that, because we're now trying to turn Kyle's jacket into a meme.

Eryn in Kyle's jacket.

My mother-in-law in Kyle's jacket:

My wife in Kyle's jacket:

My niece in Kyle's jacket:

 My father-in-law in Kyle's jacket:

Thanksgiving

A very happy Thanksgiving to you all, even those of you who have already put up your Christmas Trees, although I openly despise you.  Thanksgiving is a more interesting holiday than Christmas, so embrace it and stop trying to bypass it.  Do you put up Easter decorations a month and change early?  Because Christian-wise, that's a more important holiday.

We had two turkeys, but only ate about 3/4 of a turkey, so there were lots of leftovers.  All told, I estimate we ate about 25% of the food that entered the house.  I won $8 at family poker.  Lost $2 when I backed Eryn.  And $2 was mine originally.  So a $4 net.  It all goes to charity anyway as I always donate my earnings even though I own the donation jar this year because I traded it for donating to the Trylon's sign and the Alzheimers Association on Give to the Max Day.  It's hard not to pick a charity on that day as it's generally matched 100% by a backer (US Bank and the City of Minneapolis in this case - thanks taxpayers) and then 50% matched again (original amount, not the matched total) by my workplace.  I'm sure my local foodshelf doesn't agree as they usually get my container full of change, but I upped their monthly allotment through my work donation program this year, so they'll have to cope.

What am I thankful for this year?  Just being f-ing alive.  Not too many years you can say that and mean more than lip service.  It's good to see all my family and friends and know how close I was to last Thanksgiving being the last.

That's too serious.  So I'll end on something more amusing.  My picture of Matthew for Facebook today.  Doesn't he look delicious?  I think I'm getting better at Gimp.

Ben Franklin

Ming bought me a copy of Assassin's Creed III for my birthday.  The goal is to be able to play something head to head that isn't Call of Duty.  But both Eryn and I have been enjoying the single player game.  However, as I'm old-er than her, I have much more patience, so I explore a lot of the details of the game that she doesn't take the time to find.  My favorite at the beginning has been to revisit Ben Franklin at the General Store.  Rather than chat about his missing almanac pages a second time, he gave me a lengthy sermon on the advantages of taking an older mistress. It's scientific!  Because of gravity, water flows downward, and the nethers are the last to dry up.  Meaning that while she might look a little dehydrated on top, down below she's as juicy as the next gal.  You don't get that sort of advice in every game.

Yesterday, while I was getting coffee at Caribou, the trivia question was about Ben Franklin and the turkey, and I mentioned to the barrista...wait for it, I'm not going to proposition her, she was a younger woman, not an older woman...that I was playing a game with Ben Franklin in it.  She said, "My kids are playing that game!"  So I told her about the Ben Franklin lecture.  Those poor kids, I probably cost them their game over Thanksgiving weekend.  She looked very surprised.

I found the lecture on the web:


And here's the transcript, thanks to kotaku:

1. Because They have more knowledge of the world, and their minds are better stored with observations, their conversation is more improving and more lastingly agreeable.
2. Because when women cease to be handsome they study to be good. To maintain their influence over men, they supply the diminution of beauty by an augmentation of utility. They learn to do a thousand services small and great, and are the most tender and useful of friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable And hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old woman who is not a good woman.
3. Because there is no hazard of children, which irregularly produced may be attended with much inconvenience. 
4. Because through more experience they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an intrigue to prevent suspicion. The commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your reputation. And with regard to theirs, if the affair should happen to be known, considerate people might be rather inclined to excuse an old woman, who would kindly take care of a young man, form his manners by her good counsels, and prevent his ruining his health and fortune among mercenary prostitutes.
5. Because in every animal that walks upright the deficiency of the fluids that fill the muscles appears first in the highest part. The face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the neck; then the breast and arms; the lower parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: so that covering all above with a basket, and regarding only what is below the girdle, it is impossible of two women to tell an old one from a young one. And as in the dark all cats are grey, the pleasure of corporal enjoyment with an old woman is at least equal, and frequently superior; every knack being, by practice, capable of improvement.
6. Because the sin is less. The debauching a virgin may be her ruin, and make her for life unhappy.
7. Because the compunction is less. The having mad a young girl miserable may give you frequent bitter reflection; none of which an attend the making an old woman happy.
8. 8th and lastly. they are so grateful!!

The also linked out to the real thing at San Juan College which I include only so you can enjoy the historical accuracy of the game:


Advice on Choosing a Mistress
from a private letter by Ben Franklin,
Philadelphia, June 25, 1745

My dear Friend:
I know of no medicine fit to diminish the violent natural inclinations you mention; and if I did, I think I should not communicate it to you. Marriage is the proper remedy. It is the most natural state of man, and therefore the state in which you are most likely to find solid happiness. Your reasons against entering into it at present appear to me not well founded. The circumstantial advantages you have in view by postponing it are not only uncertain, but they are small in comparison with that of the thing itself, that being married and settled. It is the man and woman united that make the complete human being. Separate, she wants his force of body and strength of reason; he, her softness, sensibility, and acute discernment. Together they are more likely to succeed in the world. A single man has not nearly the value he would have in the state of union. He is an incomplete animal. He resembles the odd half of a pair of scissors. If you get a prudent, healthy wife, your industry in your profession, with her good economy, will be a fortune sufficient.

But if you will not take the counsel and persist in thinking of a commerce with the sex inevitable, then I repeat my former advice, that in all your amours you should prefer old women to young ones. You call this a paradox and demand my reasons. They are these:

1. Because They have more knowledge of the world, and their minds are better stored with observations, their conversation is more improving and more lastingly agreeable.
2. Because when women cease to be handsome they study to be good. To maintain their influence over men, they supply the diminution of beauty by an augmentation of utility. They learn to do a thousand services small and great, and are the most tender and useful of friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable And hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old woman who is not a good woman.
3. Because there is no hazard of children, which irregularly produced may be attended with much inconvenience.
4. Because through more experience they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an intrigue to prevent suspicion. The commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your reputation. And with regard to theirs, if the affair should happen to be known, considerate people might be rather inclined to excuse an old woman, who would kindly take care of a young man, form his manners by her good counsels, and prevent his ruining his health and fortune among mercenary prostitutes.
5. Because in every animal that walks upright the deficiency of the fluids that fill the muscles appears first in the highest part. The face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the neck; then the breast and arms; the lower parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: so that covering all above with a basket, and regarding only what is below the girdle, it is impossible of two women to tell an old one from a young one. And as in the dark all cats are gray, the pleasure of corporal enjoyment with an old woman is at least equal, and frequently superior; every knack being, by practice, capable of improvement.
6. Because the sin is less. The debauching a virgin may be her ruin, and make her for life unhappy.
7. Because the compunction is less. The having mad a young girl miserable may give you frequent bitter reflection; none of which an attend the making an old woman happy.
8. 8th and lastly. they are so grateful!!

Thus much for my paradox. But still I advise you to marry directly; being sincerely
Your affectionate friend,
Benjamin Franklin

Pelvis

When I was at the Scott^2 birthday lunch at Chipotle yesterday, the Boss and I sharing the same birthday month and year, we all got to talking about the recent physicals at work where they offered $200 in an account if you showed up for a checkup.   Someone, I think it was Christy, says she knows people who won't take it because it could potentially be misused by the company.  I agree they could, but I think it'll just spur innovation to mask results.  Action/reaction.  If a company goes down that path, they're just going to end up sinking all sorts of money into a bottomless problem.  At least without  far more politicians in their pockets than they currently have so the laws are appropriately rewritten to avoid discrimination lawsuits at every turn.

Anyway, they checked your cholesterol, blood pressure, and BMI.  According to my BMI, I'm still heavy.  So we talked about body shapes for a while and how inaccurate the BMI is and I pointed out that I'm truly big boned.  I know I am because when they try to take my hip x-rays at the hospital for the fracture, it takes a few tries to get me centered because my pelvis doesn't quite fit in the x-ray "square".

Christy found this disturbing and TMI for some reason.  Which confuses me a bit, because what's sexy about a skeleton?  That's like saying it's dirty if Brad talks about his extra vertebrae, or someone talks about their spinal curvature - left to right, not the usual s-shape.  That's not sexy.  That's medical.  And not even gross medical.  You can find bones in any field in Minnesota.  Cow.  Not human usually unless you're around a firepit up north.  And most high school students have one class with a skeleton hanging in a corner.  It's not dirty.  It's not disturbing.  It's not sexy.  It's just bones.  Take the bones out of someone, clean them off, and they're not weird.  I venture I wouldn't even find it weird if they were from someone I knew.  Unless I expected that person to still be alive.  Blood and sinew and brain matter.  Ish.  Clean bones.  Eh.  I find them more interesting than anything else, ala Bones the detective show.

That said, my wife and I recently rewatched (re for me) an episode of the Sarah Silverman Show where she goes on Cookie Party and the Mustangs have stolen her mother's tombstone and had sex with her skeleton.  You can catch it at about 1:45.  Now the Mustangs...they might ask me not to talk about bones just so they're not aroused.

The Sarah Silverman Program
Get More: Comedy Central,Funny Videos,Funny TV Shows

Little Yellow Gnomes

Eryn and I have been reading The Sword of Shannara trilogy.  I read it as a 16 year old at camp when I was a BSA counselor.  What I remember most was getting the first book wet in my tent, swelling to about three times its normal size, and yet I still read it, enough so that I remember it fondly after all these years.

As we've been rereading it, I've come to suspect that what I really enjoyed was camp and my surroundings, and my enjoyment of the book was a direct result of that situational enjoyment.  Because it's just not very good.  Great for reading to my daughter.  She's having a great time.  But a bit melodramatic, poorly written, and seriously stealing from Lord of the Rings.  Disagree?  Tell me where this scene comes from: wizard fights with evil, demonic creature, lots of fighting action, both tumble into a fiery pit.  While it could be argued that's a basic scene in any fantasy book, it's pretty close in the actual details.

As for the writing, here's an example:

"Get away while you can, hateful one!" Allanon commanded in the most menacing tone any of the members of the company had ever heard him use.  "You frighten no one here.  We will take the Sword, and you will not stand in our way.  Step aside, lackey, and let your Master show himself!"

and...

"I will destroy you, Allanon.  Then no one will be left to oppose the Master!  You have been our pawn from the start, though you could not have guessed.  Now we have you within our reach, along with your most valuable allies.  And look what you have brought us, druid--the last heir of Shannara!"

Might as well be Snidely Whiplash and Dudley Dooright.

And I'm worried it might be racist.  On page 183: "The gnomes gathered together in a yellow group."  Dubious, subject to debate, but I get the weird feeling that the little yellow angry gnomes descended of people from the past (who were us) are Asian.  They run around in bonsai-style hordes attacking the pretty nordic folks, like the humans and elves.  And the dwarfs.  But who doesn't like to smack a dwarf around.  They're built for punishment.

You Offend Me, You Offend My Family disagrees and feels the elves must be Asian.  So maybe our own racial prejudices and preferences are playing into our perceptions.

I don't seem to be the only one who thinks old Terry Brooks is sort of unpalatable or a blatant lifting of most of the Lord of the Rings.  I know he got better as I read some of his later books.  Maybe we should have started there.

Because there can never be TMI

Looks pretty innocuous until you really pay attention.  Then you realize that brightness, contrast, and hue aren't really all that important when you looking at a cutaway diagram of the inside of my ass.  You might think, "Scooter, this is way too private."  But there were three individuals of two nationalities and three ethnic backgrounds in the room during the scan, and two others during the pre-scan check, so no matter how many people check out this picture, it's not nearly as personal as the five individuals who took a close up, in the flesh, look.

And this is a personal bit of vengeance for a certain someone who told others about the mugs they discovered out here, ruining my game of "match the mug to the recipient."  Look for mugs.  Find anal x-rays. That's just the nature of the blog.  You don't get just half the story.

I found this fairly interesting.  This one is the one where you can't really see the problem.  This is pretty much what everyone's looks likes when it's vaguely healthy.  Nothing surprising.  No parasites.  Nothing stuck up there.  It looks good.

And this is after they take a needle to me and inject hydrogen peroxide.  See where the little crosshairs are, lower right, if you compare photos, you'll see a solid white area which is where the fistula occurred (thanks Regions) and where they cut into it yesterday.  Pretty harmless looking for such a pain in the ass.

I wonder whether Mean Mr. Mustard will go to the trouble of photoshopping anything.  I figure he'll be torn. No doubt, it's tempting.  But on the other hand, he'll have to be looking at my innards the whole time.  Maybe he can crack jokes while he works.  "Did I make something so funny he broke his butt?  Of course I did, it's got a crack!  It was so funny it rectum!"  Hopefully that sets a good baseline so the only direction things can go is up.  Doh!

84, Charing Cross Road

Friday night, we took Eryn to her first play at Theatre in the Round.  The last time we were there was almost ten years ago, and my wife was so pregnant we were afraid her water was going to break at the theater.  So it's exciting that Eryn is old enough to go with us now, even if an 8:00 p.m. start time is a little late for her.

We took her to 84, Charing Cross Road which might not have been the best first choice for a non-Children's Theater play for a 9-year old.  Although we used it as an opportunity to prep her for Treasure Island, which is coming later, so she understands how it'll be different than a set-centric production.  The characters in 84, Charing Cross Road don't directly interact, exchanging letters between NY and England bookstores which, in "crossing" the stage, cross the Atlantic. Here's how TRP (Theatre in the Round Players) describes the play:

"A warm and charming dramatization of letters that spans two decades between a young struggling writer in New York and the delightfully dusty staff of an antiquarian book store in London. At first just business, their correspondence becomes much more: in a sense, an exchange of love letters -- about the love of good literature."

It was well done and the audience laughed aloud in several parts.  What struck me was that the relationship between the characters was also a relationship about books, and a relationship with the store and that (spoilers start here, so bail here if necessary) when a character died, so did the store.

Eryn's review was that it was very sad that Helene never met Frank before he died.  Some of the literary references were lost on her.  For example, Peppy's Diary is only funny if you're familiar with the Diary of Samuel Pepys.  My Tudor/Stuart history background courtesy of Stanford Lehmberg helped.  Although I didn't realize until now, that during my undergrad years I'd actually met the uncle of Ben Elton who was my teacher's teacher.  Something new every year, eh?

It was a great play.  I recommend it.  Not fast.  Not lots of action.  But a solid, enjoyable work which worked really well on the TRP circular stage.  The scenery definitely contributed, and I found myself checking out a stack of books that looked like they were published by my company, only to discover they were constructed props.  Very convincing.  I really felt like I was in both a NY book-littered flat and a UK bookstore pre-internet.

Surgery

Ow, damn it. Went in for surgery this morning as a result of the accident.  Despite how wonderful it is to share a bit of fistula history with Louis XIV, Pope Leo X, and Charles Dickens, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.  I say it's a result of the accident because, during recovery at the hospital, rather than review my charts between shifts, the med folks in attendance just assumed I was on heavy duty pain killers and prescribed a bunch of laxatives to offset potential constipation.  Instead, without the pain killers, and only a load of laxatives, I had the opposite problem, which can lead to a fistula.  Even after I told the nursing staff I wasn't taking pain killers and I didn't want laxatives, I had to argue with them to force the issue.  Until they did some research, they were pretty sure I was wrong.

On a positive note, what was induced was probably the least worrisome kind of fistula and only cut through a very small amount of muscle.  So not much cutting was necessary.  Just a nick and a pair of gauze underwear.  And since when did they add a heated air pump to surgical gowns?  It's weird to see something named "Bair Paws" (a 3M product) with a paw on it.  Makes you feel like you're at the Vet.

My sister took me in and dropped me off, and then I sat around in a bed for over two hours waiting for a fifteen minute surgery. It was actually fairly pleasant, because I spent a big chunk of that time just taking a nap.  Apparently the guy in surgery before me was, and I quote my surgeon, "A five time loser" when it came to fistulotomies.  That is some bad genetics or luck.  Despite the general anesthesia, I was up and about pretty quick and home by about 3:30.  Hurts, but it's bearable.  I took some of the pain killers they gave me to see if it would offset the feeling of being kicked in the balls, if it wasn't in your balls, but was in your a**, but a bath works about 100x better than vicodin. I'm tempted to sleep in the tub tonight.

Annoying to go in for surgery, but I have to say as far as surgical procedures go, at least this one was in, out, and I'm back at work on Monday.  Though I definitely won't be bicycling this weekend.