House Rules

After about 9 yrs, its time to codify the house rules.  Especially after some new guests hit the table for the first time in awhile. Good times were had, thanks James and Dave.

Rule #1: Little scuffs of the ball do not count as a shot, do not count as an interference, do not affect the game.  As long as you are just setting up or gesticulating a point with genuine emotion, the attitude of “fuck it, balls move!” shall prevail. Balls can be put back to their original spot, given that no advantage has been gained. This is an offense-friendly room.

Rule #2: 3 balls in a row gets you a bong hit.

Rule #3: scratches are ball in hand, this is a offense-friendly room.  See Rule #1.

Rule #4: Garbage stays down.  See Rule #1.

Rule #5: you gotta pay attention to when its your shot.  Delay of game is a penalty worthy of beheading.  There are people waiting for opportunities. See Rule #2.

Rule #6: scratch on the break is not a loss, its a loss of break, rerack bitch.  See Rule #3.

Rule #7: everything is in play.  Dogs, kids, toys, aggressive heckling…its all part of the playing field.

Silent

I have nothing to say.

No open drafts on the blog, no burning thoughts, no radical gnarness.  I am completely and totally burned.  I do not want to talk about the house, or write details down, since they have all burned themselves into my memory like vitally important useless trivia that i can now recite off the top of my head and don’t know or care why.  Its not true; i care very very very much, but very soon i won’t cause it will be what it is.  Task list of items for the A/C guy, the GC, the roofer, the dimensions of each room in the house and which wall will fit the dog door and how the treadmill will be aligned in the 3rd bedroom — got it, top of my head, put me on Jeopardy!!  Its just like work.  When things get heavy, i retreat into complete dynamic knowledge of exactly what is in front of me and the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, nth permutation after it.

The house details are really not hard, considering my cross-training.  So it hasn’t been all that scary, once we thought through things.  It may cost us $20k in the end, which will suck - big fat giant scabby seeping cocks of sucking.  But how many years can you wait for a good enough deal, when you’ve learned all the neighborhoods and the floorplans and the tradeoffs?  It was nut up or shut up, and face 2-3 more years in Mesa which might possibly have meant forever.  I have begun to look forward to a shakeup.  And if Hayworth gets elected, i will be able to close my eyes with my neighbors and pretend we live in Colorado, if  i just drop some ice cubes in my shorts.

I am kinda looking forward to Arizona having a knock-down drag-out for its identity.  I think the good people of Tempe and Tucson and Scottsdale and Flagstaff will rally together for intelligent moderate empowerment.  Or burn together.  I turned down a chance to hear McCain speak and get a free dinner with drinks.  I was not at all opposed to the experience despite him having cursed us with Palin, but putting on a suit, hiring a sitter, and missing my ride seemed like a bad tradeoff - he’s got my vote in the primary, even if i have to declare Repubnican.

And what a great ride! 1:15 loop out the door, up Mudflaps->Upper Mudflaps->Tower cw and I dabbed only once, super sketchy down, the trials, the DH. Then i took Kila w. the Burley to get the girls, and saw 10 javalina right in front of the fire station eating their shrubbery.  I did not have my camera, and trying to get a shot would have ruined the experience.

I have been trying hard to enjoy the little thing.  Watching Zombieland helped, this site definitely helped.  Reading my blog stats and seeing how people find it…kinda helped.  Creepy search engine winner of the week:  “what did genevieve wear to the pink ball“.   Reading the comments in an AZ Central article about what all the ignorant, racist potential-renters feel about Rocky Point these days most definitely did not help.  I listened to Zeppelin.  Watching It Might Get Loud reignited my bromance with Jimmy Page, gave me a whole new level of love for U2, and turned me onto the White Stripes.  3 songs into Icky Thump and I was in luv.

I still have nothing to say.


I never fucked a ten, but one night, I fucked five twos

I rode all 6 bikes last week, George Carlin would be proud. It wasn’t pretty, at all, i think i gained calories. But its got to be some sort of record, and i’d be very happy if i just busted a nut 5 times. While there was nothing gnarly or epic, there was much quality-time and Q factors.

Monday & Thursday:  Trainer, combining my favorite things: work, beer, blogging and movies.  Its not a real ride, its like a friend with benefits.
Tuesday:  Hawes with James on the Hei Hei, then swapped for the Heckler and took Kila to our jump pit, where i went after stuff harder than I have in a long time.  Squeezing the last bits out of this side of town, crossing things off the bucket list.
Friday: 2-Bike with Kila to pick G up from school.
Saturday: jump pit, even better.
Sunday: 2-Bike with G, roadie around Usery, and…wait for it…the Masi with Kila to the fire station and back. I had free weights with me, they were very heavy, i fixed the Masi just in time to have something that rolled easy, and admittedly made for a nice conclusion.

1 Day & 1 Year

R.A. Holmes, PhD, mother of 2, FTW:   Lost Dutchman Marathon, and a spot on the podium today, after just one year.

G and I headed out at 8am to meet Beckie at mile 14.5 by 9.  She came flying in on about a 7.5 minute/mile pace.

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_01_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_02_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_03_blog

she got in so quick G never got into the feeling of watching the race, and was back in the car before having a chance to stretch. The race route ran along ours for about 2 miles, so we waved at Beckie and waited for her where she turned onto the smaller roads at mile 16.

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_04_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_05_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_06_blog

Then out past the finish, where we rode a few miles back on the 2bike.

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_07_blog

waiting is hard on a tinyHuman
2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_08_blog

there’s Mommy!
2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_09_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_10_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_11_blog

“Beckie Holmes of Mesa, AZ finishing with her daughter”
2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_12_blog

2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_13_blog

3:41
2010_0214_lostdutchmanmarathon_14_blog

1 Day Each Year

WOW! I’m exhausted. drained. left for dead. Who knew throwing a party for 4 yr olds would be harder than putting on my wedding.

Entertain about 25-30 ranging from 1-70 with the potential for every possible gastrointestinal or preferential oddity ranging from no strawberry to no cashews to no gluten to no lactose.  The entire bed of an F150 just barely contained all the food, chairs, toys, tables and options we ported over to the Las Sendas park.

and a bouncer
2010_0213_4bday02_blog

2010_0213_4bday03_blog

2010_0213_4bday08_blog

i think a lot of people had fun, but i mostly did not.  too busy watching 2 kids and 1 dog and ordering pizza for 20.  i anointed myself Life Guard of the Bouncy Castle, cuz no one else did.  2 kids still suffered minor injuries, i am very relieved i did not get sued.  Is 6 too many on the slide at one time?

other lapses in judgment led to bees
2010_0213_4bday07_blog

pizza makes everything better
2010_0213_4bday12_blog

The Lollipop Hunt - 200 candies took 10 min to setup, and 1 min to tear down
2010_0213_4bday15_blog

2010_0213_4bday17_blog

2010_0213_4bday23_blog

2010_0213_4bday28_blog

Limousine Libertarian Angst

Is libertarianism nothing more than a candy-coated political justification for being close to the top of the socio-economic foodchain?  As I have gotten older and harder and softer, the ability to rationalize evolving political beliefs that have been naturally, holistically, influenced by the events of my life has called into question if any of my bullshit has ever been real. This such-and-such is ok, except in such-and-such case because blah blah blah blah *i* really don’t like it, and i speak cleverly and can convince myself of many things.

Relativism says no view is truer than another, perspectivism says no view is true but mine is my own truth, nihilism rejects any truth…I thought I never had a problem with nihilism when it stuck strictly to metaethics, and i could toddle about a happy perspectivalist living by my own libertarian beliefs.  Unfortunately, if you deny any truth, you eventually can’t even live in your own fantasy land, especially when you’re pretty sure you are convincing yourselves of the convenience of your own situational morality. 20 yrs later I am not certain of anything all over again.  Must be a mid-life crisis.

Libertarianism as a policy is far and away better than anything else because of its efficacy, the rational economic side of me and libraries full of data will never get away from that.  But as a morality, it is only given passion by growing up in the privileged class, and privileged really only means a modest 2-parent stable home in a stable country with access to a good education.  Or at least a desire for a good education, or at least 1 parent, or at least living in a camp where carbombs don’t go off in your front yard and you watch your sister get gang-raped while your parents are stood up against a wall and shot.  The kids in Slumdog Millionaire did pretty good for themselves right?

Right?

Its a slippery slope when you try to define what is privileged-enough to buy into the economy of the post-Hobbesian world.  Only in the last few generations has technology and knowledge trickled down enough to make there be plenty enough that its feasible enough for enough of us to want free markets enough of the time to be sustainable.  Given that fact, no, I will not feel guilty for having had a nice-enough silver spoon and blankey to make me, intellectually, passionately support all that prevents gang raping my sister.

Recently I sold a TV in perfect cosmetic and working condition, $800 8 years ago, for $100, cause it was very heavy, and we are moving, and I can buy a 36inch flat screen for $350. The buyer was thrilled, he worked a crappy restaurant job at a chain, like i did about 15 years ago.  $100 is a nice find to me,  not my nicest tv. It is not my fault. i made an honest deal at a fair price, the buyer was happy.  He could be doing a lot worse; he could be jumping trains in Guatemala coming north. He validates my current socio-economic morality.

I think the best way to show your gratitude for having good opportunities and good circumstances is by working hard and passing that ethic on to your kids.  Treating others with respect, encouraging good exchanges by rational free agents, having a kind heart, but a realistic approach.  Craigs List with a conscience.

Me and the TV guy are both cool with that.  However, he is not so far from me, inside of the US.  We’re a society that is so wealthy people willingly turn down bacon, while others figure out how to make bacon flavored jam.  He just spent his bejamin on leisure goods and not calorie-rich hog fat, he is not so poorly off.  The people who are so primitive or crazy they haven’t even nodded at the system — the clan warriors, the culture zealots — i have no means to talk to them.  But fortunately i’ve never met them, even in Mexico they want to work, even in Mesa they want to vote.  I think within my lifetime i will see the end of the people who have simplistic excuses for genocide, either by evolution or execution.

My real angst, my daily doubt, comes when there are not individual tangible items at stake, or systematic choices, but rather when there are preferences i or others want, and we work in congress with many others like-minded.  When does it go from free-trade to oppression by the masses?  When is it worth the risk of lawlessness?  When do the Indians suing Snowbowl for making snow go from being free speech to just stupid and counterproductive, based simply on 99% of us feeling one way in an irresolvable argument?  Not wrong, just dumbassed, all things considered, especially cause I like to snowboard, and they are paying for legal fees instead of college educations.

There is a flip side to being on the winning side: sometimes you get voted off the island.   Its hard on the Native Americans being the fringe minority,  I get it.  Its hard on me living in Mesa, which wants to become a Kingdom of Heaven.  I cant blame these people.   I am an agnostic libertarian living among them. I am 1%. If a bunch of areligious libertarians migrated to DagnyTaggartDesperateHousewivville, the 1% religious people would think we’re all crazy oppressors too.   As long as we understand that we can leave a city council hearing and move, rather than grab our machetes, the discomfort and feeling of cultural nimbyism is worth not running from the neighbors wielding machetes.

I am moving to Scottsdale.  I am sure i will find things that piss me off, but not to the detriment of schools and firemen and libraries and parks and quality of life.  I am choosing to spend my money on choices.  Not a single one of the people i’ve met in Mexico would do differently.


The more you write, the more you throw away

A factoid floating through the tubes:  Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words (”For sale: baby shoes, never worn.”)

I won’t even try.  Competition is good, so is  humility.

Superbowl Sunday

Damn, I’m good.

really.

Dennis Miller, Tony Kornheiser…I can crush them both, easily, even if they double-team me.  Bet on me for fantasy-league fantasy-league.** I’ve been heckling a long time, I can win over or initiate bedlam at any bar or party with a flick of the finger.

the genius of my art is knowledge of the game, no fear, spontaneity, and a high BAC. Brushing up at urbandictionary.com is a plus. I’m not gonna be one of those candyasses in denial; i am funny, but I am really funny with a few beers and a tight game.  its ok, I’d give up my liver to have a contract on MNF.  I can take funny pics, cause the moment remains.  But the heckles disappear on the party-hat-infused breeze.  Suffice it to say they were as good as the food. Seriously! Can i get a witness? Don’t even get me started on The Who.

2010_0207_g_superbowl_01_blog

2010_0207_g_superbowl_02_blog

2010_0207_g_superbowl_03_blog

2010_0207_g_superbowl_04_blog

I’m amazed at how a slow broil leaves only the sweetest richest flavor in a jalapeno. and a Superbowl ad taught me that vinegar will cure sting ray bites. Armed with this knowledge i am ready to face bubonic plaugue, radiation poisoning, and the zombie virus. I must have missed the Tim Tebow ad. Bacon and cream cheese after a lot of salsa and salsa verde convinced us to leave fajitas for Monday, but provided a nice pork-flavored drizzle for the veggies.

The pre-game of Pass Mtn to NRA to Pink Park set the mood.  For me, at least.  No one else but G made it to the end, and she cheated.  Great game, amazing display of nip-tuck football, based on how few penalties and how few big plays and how few hits on the QBs. I invented a system for the chaos in my fridge - start all beers on one level, and as the day goes on, restock warmer beers on adjacent levels, then work along the axis of replacement. Can’t go wrong - freshman year of college there was a single uninterupted path that led from Prospect Street to my hallway, got home every time. The only trick is remembering if you are moving right to left, top to bottom, bottom to top or left to right.

2010_0207_g_superbowl_05_blog

2010_0207_g_superbowl_06_blog

2010_0207_g_superbowl_07_blog

** Each metaheckler selects a heckler, much as hecklers select players. Score +1 when your heckler wins an argument or votes with the majority on a call, -1 when your heckler loses an argument, and +3 if he or she wins the Fantasy League. Metahecklers may also be hecklers, but it is not permitted to choose yourself in Fantasy League Fantasy League.

The value of stuff is inversely proportional to the pain in the ass of moving it

my old TV is worth exactly $100. nice, flat screen 36inch tube TV.  150 lbs.  I dont even want to take it to my beach house to replace the really shitty tv there, cause i dont want to carry it up the stairs  (though in my defense, they are very steep and very narrow).  When I was researching how to price it, I could not find any big tube TVs at circuitcity.com or bestbuy.com or crutchfield.com.  A guy bought it, practically crapping his pants with glee, that he was getting a nice big TV cheap.  I helped him get it into his Expedition, i guess he had help getting it out.

I carted Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations around for 22 years. I read it once, freshman year, and could not remember what it was about.  I had to read Wikipedia to be sure I didn’t want to keep it.  By pitching Ludwig I am abandoning something, but its not his influence. Hauling Ludwig around imbued him with value. That value was imbued by professors who understood him far better than I ever didn’t,  and who imbued in me a desire to impress them by collecting their valuable books.  I have no idea why Ludwig was valuable to me; it was surprisingly easy to leave him in a worn cardboard box on the curbside of the Goodwill store, along with David Hume and Friedrich Hegel and a Java 1.2 guide . The Goodwill guys didn’t give a crap enough to greet me, they left a pad of tax receipts on the wall for me to tear off.  What some call one of the top 5 philosophy works of the 20th century, and assorted other works, netted $50 in tax writeoffs.  Ludwig will hopefully find his way to the $.50 bin somewhere.

I have baby things that are beautiful and inspiring and kept our baby safe and close and secure and full of the smiles of a newborn child, and i can not get $20 for them.  I can list them on Ebay and with fees and shipping net $18, or deal with some asspod on Craigs List and get $14.  They all found good homes with friends of friends and the IT guy who fixes my constantly-broken laptop, and they made me gush with well-wishes for the new parents, somehow drilling into an estrogen source i did not know i had.  A nearly brand new humidifier that we bought for $45 before G was born and used twice I reaped a windfall at $25.  An extremely-dusty but otherwise-perfect car cover will be sent back to Nashville in Bette and Bob’s dirty laundry.

The prospect of moving forces you to cull, to really evaluate just what to keep.   for those of you following, the move has blown up, yet again. I am becoming like Brett Farv (spelled incorrectly, as a sign of disdain) with my constant “we’re moving, we’re not moving, we’re playing for the Jets” bullshit.

The culling is not limited to stuff.  Habits, patterns, fears, confidences, memories and skeletons.  The books, the pictures, the mollies in the drywall and the spunk on the garage floor: the things you can’t remember why they made you smile or pang with regret without those things - off they go.  It hurts immediately, then its very liberating.  You are your past completely, and not at all.  Sartre said that, basically.  I kept him.

A buffer of happy consciousness, a spot-checked memory, a plastic bubble with a warm blankey, a plan for a path to follow. A manifestation of the will, as Nietzsche would say. I kept lots of Nietzsche. I don’t see anything wrong with it, self-improvement of the mind and the soul and the capacity for nimbleness. Code review. Wisdom. I need the strength if I am throwing myself into change. And its always changing. I am getting an epoxy-painted garage floor first thing when we finally move.

Jo’s ladder - 8th grade woodshop, 1982
2010_0131_jos_ladder_blog

Con Names

Penelope:  So this is all like fuckin ‘whatever’ to you.
Bloom: I usually drink with Bang Bang in the snack car, play cards.
Penelope: With who?
Bloom: Mrs. Yeungling. That’s her smuggler nickname.
Penelope: That’s offensive.
Bloom:  I think if it were offensive to her, she’d let us know.

— The Brothers Bloom, 2008

G filled Kila’s bowl to the brim, so Kila wouldn’t go hungry. Alana loves dumping Kila’s bowl. The instant it makes its distinctive clang on the kitchen tile, and long before an old bored dog gets hungry for more kibble, Alana sprints towards it like Kila when she was a puppy.  And its full to the brim.  What are the odds?

Alana is just tall enough to pull things off G’s table, which is just small enough for a littleGirl to sit at.   Hmm…the irony.

How do babies instinctively know all the important buttons and remote controls and broken glass and poison and bike grease and blackberries that they must not touch?!?! Why do littleGirls leave cameras at knee-level, forks on the floor, break dishes, scatter coins, and drop foodstuffs that stain unbleachably?  Its like a plot against me.

2006_1206-rebooting-servers-02_blog

2010_0205_rebooting_servers_blog

If you can’t spot the sucker in the room, its you.  My children need con names.