On Sunday, March 2d, here in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex, one would have been able to wear shorts, if one were so inclined, due to the warm weather. By 8:30 PM CST on March 3d, however, one still would have been able to wear shorts if one were so inclined, but one would have gotten very cold and very wet from the snow falling.
Just after taking out the garbage last night (earlier tonight?), I snapped a few quick shots:
Tag: that’s life
Raena tagged me. Normally, I’d politely ignore it, but I must give her props for the way she linked to me.
The rules:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. List EIGHT random facts about yourself.
3. Tag EIGHT people at the end of your post and list their names.
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged.
So, here are eight things you probably didn’t know about me. Well, maybe some of you know some of them, but not everyone knows all of them. Well, maybe my wife. Perhaps my parents. Whatever…
1. I have never tried Vietnamese food, nor do I plan to. Seriously, it’s like pulling teeth to get me to try non-rice-based Chinese or Thai dishes, so I’m not really interested in trying pho-anything. Noodles should be a form of pasta, covered with marinara or alfredo sauce.
2. I utterly detest the song “You Light Up My Life”. Made popular by Debby Boone in the late 1970s, this was one of the songs we were forced to sing as a collective choir in fifth-grade as a tribute to our parents during the incredibly lame fifth-grade “graduation” ceremony we were equally forced to participate in. While I sincerely am thankful to my parents for all they have ever done for me, the repeated practices of this song burned it so deeply in to my brain, that even now, as I type this, I can hear Ms. Boone’s voice coming over the jambox we used to listen to the words and music, and I cringe in abject horror.
3. I managed to get a position I held eliminated. No, I was not fired, thank you very much. Half of the workload was redundant, given the responsibilities of others on the staff, and the other half could easily be folded in to the responsibilities of others on the staff. I eventually took this information to my boss, and, more importantly, his boss, and the decision was ultimately made to phase the position out. I made such an impression with the head honcho that he actually tried to create a totally new position for me elsewhere in the small management company, but I chose to leave instead, to pursue other endeavors I was passionate about. I like to think that this shows I can think outside the box, and think about the good of the company, if need be, rather than just myself. (Viz: “team player”.)
4. I have been a pallbearer in a military funeral. My sophomore year in college, one of my best friends was killed by a drunk driver. We were in Air Force ROTC together, and Brett’s fondest dream had been to be a navigator for the United States Air Force. It probably wasn’t as pretty, or as crisp, as a military funeral one would get if they were actively serving, but Brett got full honors, it was the best we could do, and it was from the heart.
5. I have been a jury foreman. The only time I was ever picked for jury duty was five years ago. It was a misdemeanor trial, and there were only six jurors. No one else wanted it, so I volunteered. Didn’t mean much, other than I was the one who interfaced with the baliff, and then read the verdict. The trial turned out to be a he said-he said situation, rife with reasonable doubt, and we acquitted the accused. (Aside: the judge on the case sent each of the jurors a hand-written thank-you note.)
6. I have met Michael Jordan and Oliver North. Jordan participated in a basketball clinic at the convention center I worked at (see item #3), and I was part of the staff assigned to show him around behind the scenes. No, I did not get his autograph, or a photo with him. The man had been at a charity golf tournament earlier in the day, and was clearly tired from that and the other events he’d participated in while in town. But he lit up when he saw the kids. Colonel North was doing a book signing at an area book store, and I got my copy autographed.
7. I have never been drunk. I’m not kidding. Not lying. Never been drunk. Don’t plan to be, either.
8. I don’t really listen to the radio any more, nor do I watch television news. (Yes, I’m kind of stealing this one from Raena.) Between the music I rip from CDs and download from Amazon or the iTunes Store, and podcasts, I have no reason to listen to the radio, other than traffic updates. I get my news online.
I shall be merciful, and break rules #3 and 4, by not tagging anyone and passing the meme along. Of course, you may feel free to share in the comments, or on your own blog, if you’d like me/us to know eight things about you that we probably don’t know…
I received this e-mail from a neighbor. It’s one of those things where you read their answers, then fill in your own and pass it on to the people you’d like to hear back from. Seeing as how while most of you will be getting ready for work or what-have-you this morning while I’m undergoing prep for surgery to get “unscrewed”, I won’t be in much of a blogging mood, and thought I’d leave this here for you to enjoy.
Please feel free to leave your own answers in the comments, or post to your own blog and link to it in the comments. Merry Christmas!
Welcome to the 2007 Holiday Edition of Getting to Know Your Friends! You know the drill. Don’t be a scrooge! Fill it out, pass it on, blah blah blah. I would love to hear your answers.
1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
This time of year, I have to go with the nog. I can get hot chocolate any time.
2. Does Santa wrap the presents or just sit them under the tree?
Growing up, Santa just left stuff under the tree, or on the coach next to the tree, etc. Since then, he seems to have upgraded his process, as the gifts he leaves are now wrapped.
3. Colored or white lights?
I prefer white, though I do enjoy the colored lights when they’re done well.
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
Nope. I’m already kissing the person I want to kiss the most.
5. When do you put your decorations up?
We have no hard and fast rules on this one. The tree just went up this weekend, and the lights were put on last night.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Can I go with the nog again?
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child?
The older gentlemen, Mr. Gridley, who lived next door to my grandparents, would dress as Santa and come over to hand out our presents when we did Christmas at their house. As a child, having Santa right there, handing you the presents he’d brought all the way from the North Pole? Incredible.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I’d have to check with my folks, but it was likely somewhere around ten or eleven years of age. I overheard some other boys talking about, and I confronted my parents with the information. They told me the truth, but swore me to secrecy, as my sister, five years younger than I, still believed.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
That usually depends on where we might be, but generally, yes.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
White lights, with ornaments from my childhood, plus some that were gifts from my mother-in-law, my mom, and my grandmothers. They’re pretty much all personal momentos of one sort or another. No tinsel or garland. Pretty simple, the way we like it.
11. Snow: Love it or hate it?
Love it, just because, growing up in south Louisiana, and now living in north Texas, we don’t see snow often.
12. Can you ice skate?
Nope. Heck, I barely remember how to roller skate!
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
So many were favorites at so many different times of my life, I really couldn’t say.
14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you?
Spending time with the family. It’s great to see Christmas through the eyes of a child–my son–once again.
15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
A tie between my grandmother’s chocolate pie, and my grandmother’s lemon pie. The tie is always broken by having a slice of each.
16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
Watching my son open his presents on Christmas morning.
17. What is on top of your tree?
An angel.
18. Which do you like best giving or receiving?
Definitely the giving, though I won’t lie and say the receiving–especially when it’s something from my carefully assembled wish list–comes in a close second. Hey, at least I’m honest.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I’m a sucker for a well done “What Child is This?”, and I also love “Joy To The World” and “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing”.
20. Do you like candy canes?
To eat? Not really, but I don’t mind them otherwise.
21. What is your favorite Christmas movie?
Technically not a movie, but I love “A Charlie Brown Christmas”
So, what am I thankful for this year….?
My wife. Those who know me know that she has to put up with a lot on a regular basis. However, when I injured my left foot earlier this year, a ton of extra stuff fell to her to take care of, and she’s been absolutely wonderful. I love you, sweetheart.
The little phisch. Our little man is a never-ending source of joy–and frustration, but that’s just part of parenting. That smile of his just lights me up any time, and his laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard. He’s a gas to play with, and it never ceases to amaze me when I see his mind at work on something. Being his dad is the greatest job I could ever have, and has given me a larger appreciation of the love my own parents have for me.
My folks. I had a perfectly normal childhood. My parents, while strict at times, were never abusive in any manner, and I always knew I was loved. I grew up in a nice house in a nice neighborhood, with lots of other kids my age. My folks provided everything I needed, and more. They made sure I went to college without incurring a large financial debt. Since I’ve left the nest, they’ve been a source of encouragement and help in ways I never imagined.
My family. My sister, my grandmothers, my aunts, uncles, and cousins whom I’m lucky to see even once a year. We may not all talk often, and see one another even less, but it’s nice to know that when we do get together, after a few minutes of catching up, it’s pretty much just picking up from wherever we last left off. My life would be more shallow without them.
My friends. I have friends in this nation from coast to coast, and from the far north of the 48 states down to their southernmost. I am blessed to have quite a few right here in my little corner of the world, and more in many other corners. You have all enriched me in some way, and I’m thankful to know you.
The men and women of the United States armed forces. I’m proud to count members from the prior category in this one as well. Thank you all for your tireless sacrifice on behalf of the rest of us. You are never far from our thoughts and prayers. May those of you in the line of fire return home safely upon the successful completion of your mission. In the mean time, watch your six, and God bless.
God. You have made all things possible. You have blessed me in ways far beyond my understanding and worth. You offered Your own Son in my place, so that I might have a place in Your kingdom forever. I am humbled that You, the Creator of all things, would deign to know the number of hairs on my head, much less want to be my friend. All of the above things for which I am thankful are gifts from You, and I am eternally grateful.
This past Thursday marked another check-up with my orthopedist. More poking and prodding. More x-rays were taken. (Still kind of cool to see the screw just sitting there in the middle of my foot.) The prognosis? Everything’s looking good, and I am free from walking with the cane.
Surgery for me to get “unscrewed” is scheduled for December 11th. I’ll go back in to the walking boot for a couple of weeks after that, then hopefully back in to regular shoes. Whether or not I’ll have to go back to assisted walking with the cane remains to be seen.
The screw-removal surgery came up this past Wednesday night at the sophomore guys Bible study I lead, and the guys were pondering what was used, exactly, to remove the screw? Was it some specialized, medical implement-only, seven thousand-dollar, cordless drill-type device? It’s not as though they’d just jam a Black & Decker Philips head in there and pull it out, right?
So I asked the doc: “What exactly do you use to get the screw out?”
“A screwdriver.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” Then, reading my face, and the grin at the corners of my mouth: “Granted, it’s not like it’s a Dewalt we picked up at Home Depot and sterilized, but all the same, it’s just a screwdriver.”
I love my orthopedist.
Today I had another visit with my orthopedist. New x-rays were taken, and my foot was poked and prodded.
The bad news: not yet time for surgery to have the screw removed.
The good news: I can ditch the walking boot for regular shoes, though I did have to go buy an insert for my left shoes that has a hardened plastic bottom to help support the joints where my injury took place.
(An aside: Kudos to the manager of our local Walgreen’s (I got it wrong when I said CVS in my tweet) for not trying to sell me a product I couldn’t really use, and instead, sending me to the neighborhood pharmacy down the street. This pharmacy had a lot more specialty items to choose from, including the very insert I needed. My thanks to both pharmacies and their respective staffs.)
I’ve only been in the regular shoe, with the insert, for a few minutes, but I can already tell that my ankle and calf will be aching by the end of the day, as they have not been exercised in a normal walking fashion for a few months now. I go back in six weeks (sigh) for my next visit. The doc is hopeful that at that time everything will be back to where it’s supposed to be, and we can then schedule the surgery for me to get “unscrewed”. Oh, and I still have to walk with the cane.
At any rate, thank the Lord I’m out of that boot, and hurray for progress!
Jim Lindberg, lead singer of Pennywise, in Punk Rock Dad:
This is all part of the game of being a parent. When I signed up to be a dad I had to leave my cool and my self-respect at the maternity room doors. On our white minivan we have no less than three life-size decals of Britney Spears’s face stuck to the windows. A friend saw me driving the wife and kids in it and said he was going to the record store to trade in all of his Pennywise records. I told him to get me the new Christina Aguilera while he was there because the kids were begging me for it.
3. Scenario: Jeffrey won’t be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 – Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the principal. He returns to class, sits still, and does not disrupt class again.
2007 – Jeffrey is diagnosed with ADD and given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a learning disability.
[…]
6. Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.
1957 – Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.
2007 – Pedro’s cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro’s English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro is given a diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.
There are six others, but I’m sure you get the general idea. Be sure to read the comments as well.
I recall being paddled in fifth grade by the principal. A classmate, and neighbor who rode the same bus as I, was bullying some younger kids during recess, holding a rubber ball, which they had been bouncing against a wall, out of their reach. I confronted him about it, and he puffed up, demanding to know what I was going to do about it. My response was to deck him in the nose.
A random teacher hauled both of us off to the principal’s office. I told him what I saw, and didn’t blanch from what I had done. I got paddled, but so did the bullying classmate. I can’t speak for him, but I’m certainly not the worse for it. It was the only fight I ever got in throughout all my years of schooling, if you can even call it a fight.
What American accent do you have?
Your Result: The Midland
“You have a Midland accent” is just another way of saying “you don’t have an accent.” You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio. |
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The South |
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Philadelphia |
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The Inland North |
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The Northeast |
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The West |
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Boston |
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North Central |
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What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz |
Nothing really surprising here. Though I was born in Mississippi, and I grew up in Baton Rouge, I do not have the country-Southern flavor of speech so many of my relatives have, nor is there a hint of Cajun to my tongue. (Note to the oblivious ones out there: Just because people are from Louisiana doesn’t mean they all sound like they just stepped off the pirogue in the bayou.) Many people have expressed surprise, upon learning of my heritage and upbringing, that I do not, in fact, retain a discernible accent.
“[A] good voice for TV and radio.” Hrmmmm. Tom, remember that podcast idea…?
Remember when a few hours ago I said I was really thankful about living in America, and I wasn’t going to get in to some diatribe regarding socialized medicine? After reading the latest from Walter E. Williams, I’m doubly–no, make that triply–thankful:
Before we buy into single-payer health care systems like Canada’s and the United Kingdom’s, we might want to do a bit of research. The Vancouver, British Columbia-based Fraser Institute annually publishes “Waiting Your Turn.” Its 2006 edition gives waiting times, by treatments, from a person’s referral by a general practitioner to treatment by a specialist. The shortest waiting time was for oncology (4.9 weeks). The longest waiting time was for orthopedic surgery (40.3 weeks), followed by plastic surgery (35.4 weeks) and neurosurgery (31.7 weeks).
As reported in the June 28 National Center for Policy Analysis’ “Daily Policy Digest,” Britain’s Department of Health recently acknowledged that one in eight patients waits more than a year for surgery.
(Emphasis added. –R)
Now, class, who remembers what kind of procedure I’m having in just a couple of hours?
That’s right, Nathan. Orthopedic surgery. Orthopedic surgery two weeks after sustaining injury. Two. As opposed to forty. Two.
Two.
Thank you again, God. Thank you.