A couple weeks back I mentioned the costume that Katy was making for Cameron this year. I managed to get some pictures of her handiwork and thought I'd post them.
Front Left of Cameron's Hot Wheels Car
Right Rear of Cameron's Hot Wheels Car
Rear of Cameron's Hot Wheels Car
The car hangs on straps over Cam's shoulders, and he "drives" from house to house. Last night I came up with the inspired idea to add a trunk to hold candy. Of course, that idea came to me about three weeks late. I will take credit for the license plate frame though.
Yesterday at their preschool the kids had a costume parade. One of the other moms said to Katy "Isn't it amazing what men can do? I wouldn't know where to begin making a car." One, Katy made this costume. I wouldn't have known where to begin. Two, she's lucky Katy didn't go Redhead on her.
One more bit of costume indignation. How is it possible that this fine homemade costume could lose a costume contest to some off-the-rack Disney character costume? I don't get it.
It's Halloween and Katy is out with the kids. Strangely, we're not getting a lot of trick-or-treat traffic tonight, so I'm taking advantage of the opportunity to get a little blogging out of the way.
First of all, here's a link to the details of one of my World Series bets.
In other news, I've been thinking about how emotionally invested I was during the baseball playoffs. Furthering my theory that there is no such thing as an original thought, I came across this quote from British writer Nick Hornby that nicely sums up what I was going to try to say:
"So please be tolerant of those who describe a sporting moment as their best ever. We do not lack imagination, nor have we had sad and barren lives; it is just that real life is paler, duller and contains less potential for unexpected delirium."
Tonight I am metablogging. Which is to say, I'm working on material to write about later.
But here's a somewhat funny story to tide you over:
I was filling my water bottle at the cooler in the break room today and the carboy was empty. (Word of the day - carboy. After some reflection, I'm willing to concede that water could be considered to be corrosive.) I took the empty one off and got a full one ready to set atop the cooler.
As I was standing up with the full carboy, I hit my head - hard - on the corner of a big plastic box mounted to the wall.
What do you suppose that box contains? Why, the first aid kit, of course.
Ok, yeah, I should be working. But I've been trolling around online for World Series stories. Here are a couple good ones I came across - I think they show how much class both managers showed in this series:
Here's a Mike Scioscia story -
Can one image summarize the experience? Try this:Before Game 5 in San Francisco, Angels manager Mike Scioscia walked along the left field line, making the trek from the interview room to his first base dugout. The booing started as soon as he appeared, and it grew louder with each step. Four or five steps down the line, one guy in full Giants regalia held out his hand. Scioscia shifted the fungo bat from his right hand to his left and shook the man's hand. Pretty soon all the hands were out. Like a politician working the rope line, Scioscia shook their hands as they booed -- they booed right into his smiling round face.
But if you looked closely you saw they were smiling too -- booing and smiling and shaking hands. Enemies and friends both. As metaphors go, it was pretty close to perfect.
(Tim Keown, ESPN Magazine)
The phone rang in Mike Scioscia's office after Game 7. It was Giant Manager Dusty Baker, his former Dodger mentor when Scioscia was a rookie, calling to tell him:"If we didn't win it this year, I wanted you to win it. You guys are awesome. Don't let your guys forget you're champions. Hold your heads high."
(Ross Newhan, L.A. Times)
When the baseball season started, seven months ago, I told people that my expectations for the Angels season had already been met by the new logo. I really didn't like the old "swoopy wing" logo and was thrilled when they rolled out the new uniforms. The shift to red was a little wild at first, but the classic look of the new uniforms was a dramatic improvement over the blue/periwinkle mishmash they replaced. I said, "Everything else is gravy."
In late July, the Angels swept the Mariners and moved ahead of the Red Sox in the AL wild-card race. I sent a message to my coworker the Red Sox fan and pointed this out - with the disclaimer that "this could very well be the pinnacle of the Angels' 2002 campaign." I was happy that my boys had a moment in the sun this season, and thought to myself, "Well, it won't likely last. Everything else is gravy."
In September, in the last homestand of the season, the Angels finally clinched a playoff spot - for the first time since 1986. I had been saying for weeks that "all I want is a playoff spot. Everything else is gravy."
The Angels went to New York to face the Yankees in the first round of the playoffs. They lost a heartbreaker in game 1. I realized that I really wanted them to beat the Yankees. "If they can just dispatch the much-despised Yankees..." They managed that and moved on to the ALCS. "If they can just get past the Twins..." When they beat the Twins I was giddy. Giddy! The hair was standing up on the back of my neck. I was grinning and laughing and jumping around and pumping my fists in the air, doing my best Russ Hodges imitation, shouting "The Angels Win The Pennant! The Angels Win The Pennant!" I could feel the joy emanating from Tim Salmon as he ran around Anaheim Stadium, the American League trophy held high over his head.
Last night the Angels pitching staff suffered a total meltdown and the Giants went up 3 games to 2 in the World Series, pushing the Angels to the brink of elimination. I was pretty upset - I couldn't get to sleep! Then I got upset that I was so upset that I couldn't sleep. I'm the first to admit that it's ridiculous, but that's what happened.
I guess I'm finally willing to admit that there is no gravy. I want it all. I want World Series rings for my beloved Angels.
It's going to be an interesting weekend.
Here's a glimpse into my idyllic suburban lifestyle: Ever since the first Halloween in our current house, our neighborhood has done this cutesy little "game." First, you prepare two or three bags of goodies and little "ghost" drawings. Then you go drop a bag of stuff, along with a ghost drawing and a little poem about how you've been "haunted," on somebody's doorstep. Then you ring the bell and run.
The recipient is supposed to take the candy and tape the ghost drawing to their front door - so as to avoid multiple deliveries to one house - and repeat the process. It's kind of like a Halloween chain letter.
Anyway, the process has gotten more elaborate as more and more of my neighbors have had kids, and it's turned into somewhat of a production. It seemed like Katy and I were doing a lot of legwork and getting little out of it - I mean, how many pumpkin and ghost shaped erasers can you really use? So last year I decided to start a little different exchange.
I drew up a little ghost with Xs for eyes, dashed off a cheesy poem about drunken ghosts visiting your house, and dropped off six-packs of beer on a couple neighbors' doorsteps. I am pleased to report that this tradition seems to have survived another year, as I found a six-pack on my porch the other night. Now that's what I call affecting change at the local level.
Had I mentioned Cameron's Halloween costume for this year?
Months ago, he said to Katy, "I want to be a Hot Wheels car for Halloween!" And so she started saving cardboard boxes, figuring she would make him a car that he could "wear" trick-or-treating. And what a car it turned out to be. It has working headlights (powered by tiny flashlights, with lens diffusers cut from a water jug), rear brake lights, a "CAMERON" California license plate (with a frame that reads "My Other Car is a Monster Truck," Cameron's other automotive obsession), a steering wheel, big back tires and small front tires with aluminum wheels, and dual exhaust pipes. The car hangs from straps around Cam's shoulders and hits him at about the waist, so when he walks around in it, making vrooming noises, it looks like he's driving. I am really impressed with Katy's work - she spent most of her free time last week measuring, scoring, and cutting cardboard, spray painting stuff, wrapping things in aluminum foil, and generally scrounging around for parts.
I need to borrow the digital camera from work so I can get some pictures of it for you all to see. Katy's mad x-acto knife skillz come shining through once again.
(Oh, and Cameron is pretty pleased with it too.)
Another weekend in the books here at Flying W Central. It's been a good one - I got to use power tools (circular saw and orbital sander), took my wife to a nice Italian dinner, complete with a bottle of Chianti, and today we had a family outing to Disneyland.
Claire and Cameron had a great time at the "Happiest Place." They were both pleased that It's A Small World was open - its been closed the last couple times we've been - although Cameron was a little disappointed that the bubble machine had not been fixed. Cameron got to drive a red car at Autopia. Claire got to have a little chat with Cinderella - she thinks it's nice that Claire is dressing as Minnie Mouse for Halloween. They both wanted to ride a roller coaster, so we went on Big Thunder Mountain. Twice. Having a pass makes these trips a lot more fun, I think - there isn't a lot of pressure to pack Everything Into One Day.
My Angels came back tonight (after opening up a 5-0 lead in the first inning) to win 11-10 and even up the World Series at one game apiece. Let me just say, however, that I have never seen anybody hit a Troy Percival pitch as hard as Barry Bonds did in the top of the ninth tonight. I mean, to say that he crushed it just doesn't do it justice. I don't think it's come down yet. Luckily for the Angels, nobody had managed to get on base ahead of Barry. Here endeth the sports report.
One comment about the picture I posted in the "About" section. I neglected to mention that it was (is?) heavily airbrushed. Let's just say that my dermatologist would not have recognized the person in that picture.
My mom was nice enough to send me some of my senior pictures. I have scanned one of them in and added it to the About - Brad page.
The photo was taken in summer 1984. At the time, I was planning on staying in Oklahoma for my senior year, and so I went ahead and got the requisite senior pictures taken. I am wearing my new drum major uniform - this is the only time I ever wore it, as I changed my mind and moved to California after all. I still have my "old" uniform - a thin black and silver number that left me freezing my butt off at Friday night football games.
If I missed anything from Oklahoma my senior year, it was that last year as drum major. What a kick that was.
No, not me. Claire and Cameron!
As of right now, it's possible that the Flying W Twins will be making their network television premiere soon on NBC's award-winning show The West Wing. How about that?
Perhaps I am being a little misleading. One of our neighbors is an editor on the show - and for an upcoming episode they needed ultrasound footage of twins. Mark said "my neighbors have twins. I'll see if they have any footage." (Do I have any footage? Are you kidding me?) The last great wave of technology purchases I made was driven by the need to videotape ultrasounds. I've got all but the first ultrasound - the one where they looked like two little eyeballs - on tape. I hooked my camera directly to the video output of the machine - we're talking the real deal here, not some lousy videotape of the front panel.
So Mark took it in. If the director likes it then I guess C&C will be real live TV stars. And you know what that means - Katy will become a Stage Mom.
I really should be getting home - I'm still at work - but I just saw Booger in the hallway at work.
Yes, Booger from Revenge of the Nerds. Charles De Mar from Better off Dead. Miles from Risky Business.
I guess he's here reading for a part. Mike and I were walking around the office here looking for somebody - we turned a corner and there he was, sitting there in a chair, looking slightly forlorn. Both of us recognized him. Both of us had a minor freakout - "Dude!" We ended up in the conference room laughing about it.
I hope he gets it! (The part, that is.)
A few final notes on the camping trip. Number one, apparently Doug feels I am doing him a disservice by calling him "Lazy Doug." What would you call a guy who sleeps in until 9:30 or 10 and takes a two-hour nap?
Did I mention the plastic cocktail glasses I picked up at Cost Plus? They were the Key Buy for the weekend - at $1.99 apiece, they lent an air of sophistication to the proceedings. (Sorry the picture is a little blurry - we had utilized the glasses extensively the previous night)
Also, when I left on my trip the Angels had yet to clinch their playoff berth. I actually had a nightmare on Saturday night that the Angels had lost their last four games and missed the playoffs - pathetic, I know. But when I powered up my cell phone on Sunday afternoon, this message from Lisa was waiting on my phone, assuaging my fears. Thanks again, Lisa!
Ok, so my Angels have tasted some postseason success this year, dispatching the Yankees in four games in the AL Division Series. But then last night they opened the AL Championship Series against the Minnesota Twins with a 2-1 loss. (Let me just add here that it's difficult for me to cheer against a team called the Twins.)
After the game I was putting some things away in my closet and noticed something. My Twins cap was sitting on top of not one, but two of my Angels caps! I stared in horror as I realized that not only my classic 1987 Big A cap but my less-classic-but-pre-swoopy-wing blue C/A cap were resting underneath the accursed (at least for the time being) Twinkie hat.
To try to rectify the situation, I placed my new Red A cap on top of one of our bed posts - after assuring my wife that it will come down after the playoffs - and my Twins cap under the bed.
Voila! The Angels won tonight, 6-3.
Last weekend I was on a camping trip with my friend Doug. Doug and I go way back - in fact, you could say that he was one of the first people I met upon my arrival in California, way back in 1984. Of course, we didn't become friends right away, but that's another story.
Here is the tale of last weekend's journey, chopped into day-sized bites:
Once again, click and enjoy...
Ok, so I've been alluding to this fabulous crab shindig we had a few weekends ago with Katy's family in Big Bear. Your patience has been rewarded:
Click and Enjoy!