Idle Ramblings of a Slightly Mad Man

Find a Penny, pick it up, and all day long, you’ll have good luck!

That’s me.  If there is money lying on the ground I am picking it up but not because I am expecting any additional good luck nor do I care if it is on heads or tails.  I’ll pick it up.  I am not superstitious. 

I have always been that way.  It is not like I am poor and need the money but I will pick it up and place it in my pocket and at the end of the day I have a coin jug that I will put my change in. 

The coin jug is kept in my bedroom but is shared by myself and the kids.  What we do is fill the jug with change or dollars to be converted and used for our big summer vacation. 

Right before vacation we will take the coins to the bank and convert them to dollars to be used how ever we want.  Maybe it is a fancy dinner, maybe it is a special souvenir, maybe for a night at the boardwalk to ride the rides and play some games. 

This year my son has been really keeping his eyes to the ground and he has been finding a lot of change.  When I asked him what he was planning on using his vacation money for he stated that he wanted a Tshirt.  Just hearing that he has plans makes me happy.  He is learning that he needs to save to get something he wants. 

As soon as our vacation is over, the kids and I will start the coin jug up even before we have decided what the next vacation destination will be.  We’ll keep our eyes to the ground picking up the money we find. 

The way I see it, the folks that dropped the money is just helping to pay for our vacation.

Thanks folks, and keep dropping that change!

I have, I think, a very unique viewpoint on life. 

I am not a glass half full type of guy, or a glass half empty.  I look at that cup and wonder who the *&#@ left it there and why didn’t they throw it away!

My mind has often led to trouble arguments fights between my wife and I.  She has a hard time grasping how my mind works.  The same went for how I got along with my parents.  I just have downright different takes on things.  This works great for me though when I am problem solving or trying to be creative for work.  Day to day life though, it is entertaining.  To me anyway.

I am finding that this trait is making it’s way into the personality of my 8 year old daughter.  Just this morning, as she was being let off to school, I noticed that she didn’t have her bookbag.  I yelled at her to come back and get it out of the car and she very noncholantely told me she forgot it.  She then added that at least she won’t forget to bring it home this weekend.  (she has left her bag at school over the weekend in the past a few times)

One day, there was a neighborhood cat (she is a huge cat lover), that was hit by a car and still laying dead in the street, and she paused for a moment and then said that at least the big black birds will have some breakfast.

When my wife’s grandmother died a few weeks back, my daughters reaction was - I guess we won’t be haveing anymore chicken & dumplings.  (G-mum made the best!)

I can’t help it.  Her comments make me laugh because they are funny and they sound so much like things I say.  My wife thinks that she is rude, insensitive, uncaring and unconcerned about things but I know better.  I know that is just how her mind works.  It works like mine. 

Do you ever feel like you are reading too much?  That everything you start to read you never finish?

That is me.  I think I have too much to read.  And I read everything.

Here is my current list…

1 novel - First Counsel - Brad Meltzer - still working on getting through this book

5 monthly magazines - Time, Newsweek, Wizard, Readers Digest and Big Backyard (for the kids)

2 trade publications (for work)

2 daily newspapers

 23 Monthly Comic Books

Blogs

Forums.

I keep many of my magazines in the bathroom.  Doesn’t everyone?  Anyway there is only so much time one can spend in there reading.  By the time I get done with any of the mags the next one has arrived in the mail. 

It is really getting to become too much for me.  I am having a hard time keeping on top of it all.  When I travel for work and have to fly or take the train, I get close to getting caught up on my reading.  But when I get home I get behind.  Too many activities to get any reading done.

I find that I am a news junkie.  I read the newspaper every morning, then I scour the internet for the latest news.  I read Time and Newsweek for the news too.  They will have articles that you just don’t find in the newspapers. 

I forgot to mention that I read to my kids too.  Usually in the evening, before they go to bed.  My daughter is reading well on her own but she will often join my and the son for story time.  I will read them books or an article out of their Big Backyard magazine.

Is this just another one of my odd compulsions?

or

Is there such a thing as being addicted to reading? 

Hello, my name is Idle Ramblings and I am addicted to reading.

This is one of those mornings where I really wish I had a pre-written post already in the bag and just be done with it. 

I don’t!

It has been a very busy couple of days.  Saturday was the Philadelphia Soul home opener at the Wachovia Center here in Philly versus the Orlando Predators and what a game it was.  The Soul dominated the game.  For those that do not know, the Philadelphia Soul is Philadelphia’s Arena Football League (AFL) team.  The team is also owned by Jon Bon Jovi.  My wife enjoys this very much.  I go to the game and watch the action on the field and she goes and watches JBJ.

After being out late Saturday, we spent the day running around like crazy before coming home to watch the NASCAR race and I cooked an awesome stuffed pork roast!  I do have to say this cooking thing is fun.  Maybe somewhere, in a past life (if I actually believed in such things) I was a gourmet cook. 

Monday, off to work and then the rush home to go to the Bon Jovi concert with the wife and daughter.  This was my daughters first concert and she had about as much fun as an eight year old could.  Daughtry opened for Bon Jovi (yeah, that American Idol guy) and he sounded pretty good but both my daughter and I knew the same amount of songs by him.  Maybe 3.  But he was OK.

Then Bon Jovi came on and of course he rocked.  I was a big fan of Bon Jovi when he first broke onto the scene in ‘83.  My wife loves the group.  My daughter got into it a little more but overall it was probably a little too overwhelming for her.

Needless to say, the three of us are dragging today.  Tired would be an improvement over how we feel.   

It snowed here, finally, the other night and we went over to Donna’s - my sister-in-law - so that all the kids could go sledding. 

While they were out sledding she started to make some hot chocolate for all the kids and poured them small cups.  When the kids all came in and stripped out of their outerwear they came and took some sips and then ran to the basement to play.

After a few minutes Donna called down to the kids, “You better get up here and drink this hot chocolate I made!  If it gets any cooler it will be cold!”

I’m just thankful that the laws of thermodynamics work in her house too.

My alarm clock goes off this morning at 6:15 AM, waking me from a deep slumber, and as I prepare to climb out of bed and head to the shower before work my wife pull me back into the bed and mumbles that it is the weekend and I should come back to bed.

Me, being the tired, exhausted and trusting husband that I am, I listened to her and quickly fell back asleep.

A little later she abruptly wakes me and I starts yelling at me for oversleeping.  I look to the clock and it is now 8:23 AM and it is not the weekend it is a weekday and we’re not only late, we are very late.  With a curse and a leap, I rush to my daughter’s room and wake her for school and then rush to the shower. 

A quick shower and skipping the shave I hurridly dress, throw together lunches and write a late note for my daughter.  I didn’t have time to be creative so I wrote the truth. 

Dear Mrs. *********

Please excuse ********* for being late this morning.  Thought it was the weekend when the alarm went off.  Sorry for the inconvience.

Mr. Idle Ramblings

Short, sweet and to the point.  At this point, my wife rushed out the door, cursing at me for sleeping in. 

I don’t get how this was my fault.  I was just as confused and only did as I was told. 

I say that with complete seriousness!

And I have good reason to make that observation too. 

My daughter is in the Brownies and this morning was their cookie sale at the Wawa.  For those that don’t know what a Wawa is, it is a convenience store, like a 7-11.  But better.  It originated in the suburbs of Philadelphia.  In fact, around here it is required that you live within walking distance of a Wawa.

Anyway, I was with my daughter at the Wawa because my wife’s grandmother passed away the other day.  I wanted her to rest and sleep in so I took my daughter.  At the Wawa we had a small table set up and the girls politely asked if anyone wanted to buy any Girl Scout cookies.

There were a lot of people walking past and lots of people to ask and I was beginning to notice a trend throughout the morning.  White people would very rudely and very purposefully, ignore the girls.  It was  very shocking that White People could not take a moment to even speak to the girls a no or a no thank you.  Some were on cell phones and tried to use that as an excuse not to talk and others just looked away.

Black people, Indians, and Asians were all polite enough to at least respond with no’s and get off their cell phones and respond but White’s would rather snub a child.  It was embarrassing and it was making me angry. 

White People, you need to wake up and get your heads out of your asses!  These are little girls that don’t deserve to be ignored and snubbed.  You embarrass your race with your actions.  It takes a second to say no or no thank you. 

To those that were polite enough to talk to the girls, Thank you!  Remember that even if you don’t want to buy a box of cookies, at least acknowledge the girls asking and politely say no or no thanks. 

Have you ever caught a scent that triggered memories? 

I just had one.  Let me take a moment and back up and set up the scene. 

I am on the road again, traveling for work.  I am out on the West Coast and staying at a very popular brand name hotel.  As part of my routine when I first enter my room I take all the complimentary bath supplies that I use and put them in the shower.  So this morning I enter the shower and I open the hotel supplied shampoo and conditioner and wash my hair with them.  I then moved to the soap.  When I opened up the soap I catch a smell that flashed me back to elementary school. 

The soap smelled like paste.  Elmer’s white paste.  The kind we used to use on art projects.  The kind we used to eat.  The kind we used to try to permanently glue our fingers together.  I have not smelled a jar of Elmer’s Paste in decades.  Art projects I made in grade school all flooded back.  Past elementary school teachers flashed back in my mind.  A huge chunk of my childhood recalled in a quick instant.

But then I was turned off to the smell, who wouldn’t?  There I am, in the shower, in all of my naked glory (good luck getting that image out of your heads today) with no choice but to use this paste smelling soap.  I am now hoping that my clothes do not stick to my body because I used this paste soap. 

I think I will see if there is a CVS around here to buy one of those sample/travel bars of soap.  There are worse things to smell like but I don’t need to have a trail of grade school kids following me like I’m the Pied Piper of Paste trying to get their fix from the past man.

It is interesting how past memories can be triggered just by a scent.

It was not a great start to the evening.  I thought that since there was very little traffic on the road last night that my commute home would be a breeze.  I made it all the way down the I-95 in record time.  Never on a Monday at 4 PM would I be able make the 2o mile journey in less than a half an hour.  And then it all changed.

I felt the slight pull to the left on the van.  As I slowed to a stop I heard the distinct flapping of my front left tire.  After I pulled into the restaurant parking lot I got out and looked and my suspicions were confirmed.  A flat tire. 

It was cold, dark, damp and just beginning to rain.  It was not the makings of a story that would have a happy ending.  The one inconvenience that this minivan has it the location of the spare tire and where it is located.  It is located between the front and second row seats.  These are the main seats that my family all sits in.  As such, all of the kids junk/shit toys and stuff, as well as my laptop and lunchbox all had to be moved.  It was awkward to remove. 

In addition to all of this, as my regular readers know, I have been struggling with some type of affliction that the doctors have not been able to figure out as of yet.  This illness made me cough so hard I tore the cartilage between my ribs. 

Pulling out the spare left me in terrible pain.  I was nearly crying as I struggled to remove the spare from its hiding place.  You might wonder why would I put myself through this agony and not call someone like AAA.  The reason is, I had to pick up the kids and then take my daughter to Brownies.  I had an hour to do all of this.  AAA, while a very good service, is not known for it’s quickness.  That just leaves me, in pain, to deal with the flat.

Cold.  Dark.  Rain.  Pain.  Through all that I was able to change the tire and put the flat into the trunk, which was another struggle.  I made it to the daycare and picked up the kids.  Before I was even able to get them into the car I went into a coughing fit.  I was out in the rain coughing and trying to stop, trying to catch a breath, trying to stand, trying to keep from crying because of the rib pain.  My kids were scared and upset.  My son began to cry.  This attack may have been only 30 seconds but it seemed to last for nearly 10 minutes. 

I was able to finally get in my van and out of the rain where I sat trying to catch my breath.  I sucked up the pain and composed myself and then worked on calming the kids.  I assured them that I was OK and with that I took my daughter to Brownies. 

I am now in so much pain and discomfort that I just want to die now.  The doctor called me in this morning to do more X-rays and tests.  Who knows what they will find.  But whatever it is, I hope they figure it out soon. 

When I started this blog I made a promise to myself that I would not write about anything that happens in my bedroom but sometimes things happen that are just too damn good to pass up and I just have to post about this one incident.

I was away all last week for work.  My work took me to NYC for a few classes that I had to facilitate.  Needless to say that when I arrived home Friday night, my wife and I were anxious to get the kids to bed.  Thankfully, we were successful in having the kids asleep by 9 PM and headed to our own bedroom. 

Just a few seconds after the Grand Finale the house phone rings, which is on the wife’s nightstand, and it is her boss.  Her boss never calls at home, especially at ten o’clock at night.   She takes the call and heads to the bathroom.  I follow her down the hall when suddenly I hear my 4 year old son open his door and come out into the hallway.  Quickly, I grab a bath towel out of the hallway closet and wrap it around my waist.  The phone woke him up and he was curious as to what everyone was doing. 

After pushing him back into his room and assuring him that everything was fine and telling him to go back to bed I entered the bathroom where my wife was to make sure everything was fine and it all appeared that the new from her boss was good news.

I headed back to our bedroom only to find my son on our bed, which we did not clean up, holding my wife’s “friend”.  He was holding it and swinging it like a lightsabre.  He said “look what I found” and proceeded to make the noise from Star Wars that the lightsabres make when he accidentally and inadvertently twisted the devise on.  The vibrations caused him to drop it while making him laugh at the same time.  I quickly picked it up and tried to get a hold of him to carry him back to his room.

It was during this time, during his getaway from me that he crawled across the bed and put his hand into the remnants of the evening.  He quickly stopped and told me “someone peed the bed Dad!”  He then sniffed his hand and then pressed his nose down to the spot and sniffed.  “It don’t smell like pee!”  At this point I am barely able to keep myself from laughing.  He holds his wet hand up to his face and gets ready to lick it and taste what it is.  I jump across the bed and grab his hand right before he can lick the palm of his hand. 

By now my wife has come back in the room, finally off the phone, and takes one look at the scene playing out and tells the boy that the cat got sick and that he needs to go to his room and close the door so that the cat does not puke all over his bed too.  Her quick thinking satisfies his curious mind and as he gets down off the bed my wife wipes his hand off and walks him to the bathroom to wash his hands.  Crisis adverted.

After he settled and we cleaned up everything we laid in bed laughing about how crazy, embarrassing, and funny the whole situation was. 

The next morning I overheard my son telling my daughter to be gentle with the cat because she got sick all over mommy and daddy’s bed last night.