War, child 28-April 2009 2:02 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
The other day, I happened to need to explain what a torpedo was to my six year old.
After I explained that it was a weapon that blew up boats, she asked “But why would someone want to do that, daddy?”
Instantly, I felt terrible. How do you explain war, killing, and death to a little girl that plays with dolls?
I lurched past a brief, 20 word-or-less explanation of war, and settled into a more comfortable factual rhythm as we looked up some pictures or torpedoes on the internet.
But my mind was darkened by the realization: Here is the world I give you, child. Here is a world made difficult by nature, disease, and mortality. And oh yeah, there are people that kill for nationality, business, or even pleasure… Good luck.
Dream #2 14-April 2009 12:33 AM
Posted by robodad in dreams.2 comments
We lived in our old house, and somehow, one of our children nearly died in a flood, and we had to move out west. I mean, out west as in dry dusty streets, floating tumbleweeds. That kind of “out west”.
While living there, we lost a child. I am not sure what happened, but I think the child got lost, and we and the townspeople could not find the child.
Heartbroken, we moved back to our old house.
As we entered our old house, my wife and I fanned out to evaluate the condition of the place. I took the basement.
As I descended the steps, memory washed over me, and I clearly remembered the accident that happened before we left: a nearby river flooded, and one of our basement walls partially collapsed. Water entered the basement, washing my toddler out. I swam out and saved him.
It was that event which caused us to move west.
But as I stood there in the basement, I was surprised by the intensity of the memory. It was as if the mental image was forced on me from something or someone. It was as if someone was trying to tell me something.
Almost immediately, I knew: the river wanted my son. Not only that, but I knew it wanted me to be the one to bring him. It wanted my son, and it had to be me who threw him to the river.
I was anguished, but obviously, my dream self would never be persuaded to do such a horrible thing.
Sometime later, I looked outside, and we saw local municipal workers doing something on the banks of the river. What they were doing was not important, but I recall that one of the workers slipped on the riverbank in a small mudslide, and fell in and drowned. As the other workers scrambled to gain firm footing, I saw the ground around them popping with puffs of mud, as if bubbles were erupting from the mud. The men struggled to find firm earth and avoid the popping ground.
It was not until I saw the blood that I knew that the local townspeople were shooting at the workers. Somehow, the townspeople had become crazed.
Horrified, I knew it was the river. It could do terrible things, and it would not rest until I brought it my son. People would die… hundreds, maybe entire towns, unless I did something.
I awoke terrified. I awoke feeling guilty because my last thoughts before waking were
how many more people will die if I don’t do it?
On Making Your Life Sound More Interesting 21-March 2009 11:23 PM
Posted by robodad in misusing tags on purpose cause thats how i roll.5 comments
I have a problem. I have a blog which I use for blogging about life’s occurrences. The problem is that I find I rarely believe my life’s occurences to be blogworthy.
But I have a solution.
For simple nouns, add dramatic qualifiers, comparable to those used in blockbuster movies. Also, use pictures liberally.
For example:
The Homemade Pizza… OF DEATH
The Homemade Pizza ... OF DEATH!!!!
See how that works? Makes something blah seem exciting, right? I’ll bet you were scared a little. Maybe a lot if you are scared of peperoni.
Now, try this on for size:
Prepare to feel the terror of…
The Treehouse …
FROM ANOTHER WORLD!!!!
See?
Conspiracy to Kill 24-December 2008 11:15 PM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
The last time we went away, we took her along with us. We had to.
She was old. She could not feed herself. We were going to be gone for a few days, and she could no longer live by herself. So, we took her and her life support equipment along with us, and took care of her. Staying at the in-laws house with our three kids, this was an inconvenience. But we didn’t want her to die… After all, who wants that kind of mess?
Since then, we have continued to take care of her. Over time, though, the kids stopped paying attention to her, and we hardly noticed she was alive, except when we remembered to throw food at her.
This time around, as we planned the minutia of our Christmas vacation at the in-laws, we both realized… we did not want to take her. We decided there, standing in the kitchen: we would leave Miss Ginger behind. If she died, we decided, perhaps it would be a blessing.
For us, anyway.
That is how we decided that Ginger the fish would be left behind, without food, for up to 48 hours. With a cat in the house.
God help us, and have mercy on our souls.
Dear Mr. Truck Nutz 8-July 2008 1:10 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
Dear Mr. Truck Nutz,
Today, I had to sit behind you in traffic looking at your oversized nutz. I was sandwiched behind you for at least 20 minutes, with no escape, no place else to look.
They were large and red, and really really gross. One hung lower than the other, and they were slightly oblongish. But in the wrong direction. It was weird.
Please find some way to express yourself less grossly, Mr. Truck Nutz.
Yours Truly,
Me.
Portrait of an Evening 8-July 2008 1:04 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.add a comment
The kids on the playground are running and playing. Molly has met some older kids, around 11, and they have condescended to let her play in their game of chase. I am thrilled because she is normally shy and reluctant to ask others to play, and I feel like crying when I see her so happy in the company of others.
Sammy thinks he is playing, too. He mimics their shouting and squealing , and toddles in the same general direction as the older kids. He seems not to notice that he is largely ignored.
Lizzie is playing with some kids on the merry-go-round.
Eventually, Lizzie finishes her play for whatever reason, and comes over to me on the park bench. She scoots her butt up onto the high seat next to me. She adjusts her blue and white Dorothy-in-Wizard-of-Oz dress which she has chosen to wear today.
She looks at me and smiles, then looks to the playground jungle gym where the other kids are playing.
After a moment, she looks back at me. “Daddy, doesn’t it get boring just watching kids play?”
I explain to her simply that I enjoy watching my kids having fun and playing.
She looks back at the playground and seems to think about this for a second. Then she concludes “So it would be really boring for you if there were no one here, right?”
I agree that yes, it would be boring.
Then, we play that game where she pushes my nose and my tongue sticks out, and I push her belly button and she makes a beeping noise. Shoudlers, cheecks, ears, knees; every body part has a resultant action or sound. This game devolves, as it always does, into me tickling her.
Then, she runs off to join her sister and the older kids in the game of chase.
The sun is setting, and a breeze finds its way to us through the trees and over the soccer field.
She’s Much Lighter Now 17-April 2008 1:02 AM
Posted by robodad in life.2 comments
In recent months, my wife’s grandmother had become weary of life. This was revealed by something she said to me at the beginning of it all, about six months ago: Old age is a curse, Aaron. and I don’t know why anyone would want to live forever. You get tired, and your body breaks down.
She had been retired for some years, and had enjoyed reading and cross-stitching until her arthritis and poor vision made those few pleasures unattainable. Then she did what so many old folks do when there is nothing to occupy their minds…sit by the window and obsess about what the neighbors do or don’t do… Complain to all who will listen of her pains and aches.
The extended family had become annoyed with her complaints and pettiness. I did not. When we visited, we brought our children, her great grandchildren, to fill her empty rooms with their noises and needs and sniffles. She glowed when we were there, forgetful of her pains. I never saw the embittered old woman everyone else seemed to see.
At the time we had our talk about immortality, she could barely move around the house with the long and unwieldy oxygen tubes. Over the next months, as her lungs grew weaker, she grew less capable of moving; even a few feet was a tiring chore.
Then came the fall which broke her back, and the subsequent surgery. We all knew she needed a nursing home to help her recover. But the surgery did not help the pain, and her time at the home there was spent zonked out on painkillers – greeting visitors with head in hands and eyes closed, barely aware of the people who came to see her.
A few additional maladies and hospital visits later, it was obvious she was not healing. She finally decided enough was enough, and she stopped taking food or drink. Her frail and tired body began to shut down. She had given the hospital orders not to resuscitate her.
Then they took her off the oxygen.
That night, my wife Ellen rushed to see her at the hospital. Her grandmother could not talk, but her eyes moved, and her breathing was strained and gasping. My wife talked to her for a long time that night in the hospital room. She told her she loved her. She cried. She talked to her grandmother of the sleepovers they had together when Ellen was little, and her grandmother would put her hair in curlers and make her chocolate milk, and they would both sleep in those unbearably uncomfortable curlers. Ellen talked about her favorite lullaby to sing to our son, and she sang it to her grandmother there in the hospital room. Edelweiss.
That night, Ellen came home and cried and cried.
In the morning, we got the call that it had happened in the night an hour after Ellen left.
As I carried her coffin, I can’t help but think that she’s much lighter than I thought she’d be.
Rest now, Isabelle.
Whales 27-January 2008 3:59 PM
Posted by robodad in humor.6 comments
I’m sorry, but I have to say I support the president in his push to expand executive power, even beyond the limits of the U.S. constitution, or what the liberals call “reason.”
I truly believe that the president is above the law in all respects. He should have the ability to search and eavesdrop without warrants, detain people, U.S. citizens or otherwise, without presenting reasonable cause, and to torture anyone he likes without limits, even if it is just because he is having a bad day.
Only in this way can the president of the United States (POTUS) properly protect us from our most dangerous enemy: WHALES.
Those whales have been thumbing their noses at us for millennia. Ever since they slunk back into the sea, they have been all “look at me, I’m better than you, I have flippers,” and “look at my nostrils, they are on top of my head”.
And its not just the arrogance. Whales have been responsible for some of the greatest catastrophes in human history.
Whales have been known to cause tsunamis with synchronized tail movements, killing millions of people. Also, whale farts, in addition to causing global warming, can cause warm air movements that can trigger hurricanes and cyclones. Again, killing numerous people.
And it seems that whales have some special vendetta against the United States of America. Perhaps because it is we are a beacon of freedom for the world. Or perhaps it is because we are the only world power posing a threat to their ocean empire.
It is a scientifically proven fact that whales were responsible for the twin towers attack. Look into it if you don’t believe me: the information is out there, but nobody but me seems to have put it all together.
I don’t have proof yet, but I believe whales were responsible for the flooding of New Orleans. NASA satellite images show a mass under the surface of the Gulf of Mexico at the time. But since the image is dominated and obscured by the hurricane’s clouds, I cannot prove this conclusively. I suspect they were hoping to pull a common whale trick: flood the coastal areas with synchronized flipper movements, then eat those unlucky souls who wash out to sea (yes, babies and all).
Who knows what else those assholes are planning. In any case, our course is clear. Only by granting unlimited power to the executive branch can we fight this greatest of threats to our freedom, our way of life, and even our very lives.
Home From Work… 6-December 2007 2:00 AM
Posted by robodad in parenting.5 comments
I see her across the room and she is Summer rain: warmth and moisture and life-giving energy.
And our seedlings (we have three) are jumping around me, climbing on me before I am ready, urging me to play. As always, I readily surrender and enter their world.
One minute I am a horse and they are rodeo riders, another minute I am a cat and they are mice who like to be tickled, and then I am the worst hide-and-seeker ever in the whole world, unable to find them in their painfully obvious hiding places.
While this happens, what they do not know…what they could never know, is that they are beams of light shining directly into the prism of my heart, refracting and filling me with rainbows. Until it hurts. Until I am lifted from the ground, however imperceptibly. Until I feel my eyes and mouth must be glowing.
I never knew love could be like this. Why didn’t anyone tell me?
Slutty Eyes 28-November 2007 1:47 AM
Posted by robodad in Astrology.3 comments
I spend a lot of time driving in crowded rush hour conditions. One thing I notice is that men are sluts with their eyes.
If she catches his eye, he will turn his head to look at her as he passes, his wedding ring and children momentarily forgotten.
I wonder if this happens a lot in public spaces: men probing with their eyes; examining, prying, feeling women up, optically speaking. I wonder whether women notice. I wonder whether they mind.
