Wednesday, April 23, 2008


While waiting for Dave to get out of school yesterday, Samantha and I joined forces and wrote the following piece. We mostly followed the pattern of writing every other sentence, but not strictly. See if you can figure out who wrote what:

One day there was a guy named Bob. Bob didn't like to throw up. But he liked to fart. So he would experiment with the foods that he ate to see which foods would make big, juicy farts but didn't make him barf.

So, the other day, he was in his front yard and he farted so big that he now lives on Mars. Except now he's kind of hungry because there isn't a lot to eat on Mars. He invented a machine called the "Fart Pack". When he farts in this tube, it blows him into the air and takes him to any planet. He made lots of money marketing his "Fart Pack" to people on Earth and the other planets he visited.

When he got back to Earth, he ate twelve pounds of beans and packed a bunch of food. Then he made a huge fart that too him past the Milky Way to some old solar system. He landed on Planet Zarnack and met some of the aliens that lived there. They tried to eat him but when he farted, the air turned orange and green. So the aliens passed out and left their spaceship available. He was glad that he didn't become a Zarnack snack and decided to see if he could operate their spaceship. He got it turned on but when he pushed the gas, it went full speed into the Moon and the Moon hit Earth. The Earth bounced closer to the sun and affirmed Al Gore's fears about global warming.

The North and South poles started to go bye-bye and the water said, "Hi-hi!" Soon, there were beaches in Bob's home state of Kansas. When Bob went to the beach, a huge tsunami hit and killed Bob. Uh, oh.

Bob's family was stricken with grief over Bob's death and worried about the Earth's imminent demise, so they strapped on some "Fart Packs" and traveled to Pluto. They got there and they all dressed up in leotards, tutus and ballerina slippers. Then they all started jumping around and dancing. Bob's granny was old but she could jump and dance really well because of the low level of gravity. But Grandpa, on the other hand, fell off Pluto and landed on a meteorite. It crashed into the Earth and he drowned. Since Grandpa was old and had lived a full life, they weren't as upset as they were about Bob's death. So instead of crying, they had a party because they didn't have to clean his dentures any more.

This was a great celebration because his dentures were always covered in mold and slime and barnacles. So, in memory, the lake was shaped like open dentures with a spider in between the two front teeth. The spider was named Earl and he would decide who would and who wouldn't swim at his lake. He only let the two members of the family that were left (Grandma and Aunt) swim. Mom and Dad crashed 50 years ago in an airplane. Aunt Trudy could only doggy-paddle, so she would climb trees instead. She accidentally fell off one and broke her neck. The doctors had bad news.

Trudy was dead, leaving poor, poor Granny all alone, swimming in a lake shaped like dentures and guarded by a talking spider. The spider was secretly stalking her, so after an hour, the spider attacked her and ate her hair. Grandma died from shock and baldy-ness-phobia!

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

An Ode to Distraction

As I sit on my couch
With my notebook in hand
And the radio tuned
To the A.M. band
I would like to create
And God knows that I've tried
But I can't concentrate
Guess my brain must be fried
You see, all my attention
Has been grabbed by the game
And my sheer lack of focus
Will keep me from fame
My love for the Royals
Divides my weak brain
And to root for this team
Has rarely seemed sane
But this year is different
As they've really been good
The pitching's been solid
Not so much for the wood
And now my pen has failed me
It literally broke
Frustration increases
The M's bats have awoke
It was a tie ballgame
But we're now down by six
And my pen's replacement
Learned the former pen's tricks
The ink has stopped flowing
Just the same, Royals runs
And as for this poem
I believe I am done

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Gee Whiz

The first four batters in the Royals's lineup today are:

Gordon, and

Batting seventh is:




Gee Whiz

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Walking Home

This week, I began in earnest my plan to ride the bus to and from work on the weeks that I don't have to take the kids to school. I've always enjoyed using public transportation, probably because I've lived my whole life in a city that doesn't really use or value public transportation. And, being an infrequent patron, I've probably romanticized the notion.

But today, the part of my journey that struck a chord wasn't the bus ride but the walk home.

It is a bright, sunny, cloud-free day. According to the Mission Bank thermometer, it is 58 degrees. The sunshine makes it feel warmer, but an occasional breeze reminds me that summer isn't making an early appearance. The breeze makes my hooded sweatshirt proud to do its job.

I push the cross-walk button and wait patiently for the red hand to give way to the white stick figure. Birds are singing. People are out walking. A police car rolls by with its lights flashing, but not in pursuit of anyone. The final bits of another eight hours of work day experiences start to blow away while the first tiny particles of "I'm home!"-excitement sweep in behind them.

All of this suddenly reminds me of walking home from school in second grade. It was days like this when I would stuff my jacket in my backpack in mini-rebellion towards Mom and in reverence towards Spring and the warmer days to come. Of course, I'd pull out that jacket and put it back on a block from home so that Mom wouldn't know I hadn't been wearing it. Of course, she would find out anyway.

There was a crossing guard that would guide me safely across the street then. In addition to birds singing, I would hear geese honking; one house kept several of them as pets rather than the more conventional dogs or cats. And I would stop the police if they were driving by to see if they had any Royals baseball cards left to hand out. I would look forward to getting home and riding my Big Wheel in the driveway or playing with my Star Wars guys in the front yard.

A lot of things have changed since I was in second grade. Today, I kept my jacket on and didn't encounter any geese. And my Chevy Metro, while small, is no Big Wheel. But I'm glad some things remain the same.