Another Halloween, and we're doing slow business here. It's actually raining here in SoCal - totally unheard of - and that, I suspect, is keeping many of the kids at home.
So I sit and blog and hand out the occasional piece of candy.
It's a long, long way from the days of Halloween Oingo Boingo concerts...
It's funny - whenever I go to Oklahoma, I get this weird urge to buy a pair of cowboy boots.
In spite of growing up in western Oklahoma, I have never owned a pair of cowboy boots. Frankly, I don't know when I would wear them if I did have a pair, but for some reason I always think about getting some.
It always comes on like a surge - you know what I mean, that "It's midnight, we're bored, hey, let's drive to Vegas!" kind of wackiness - but thus far it has always receded almost as quickly.
So, once again, no boots for Brad.
I did espy a certain piece of hardware at the airport security checkpoint that told me I was in Real-Life Gosh-Darn Rootin' Tootin' Cowboy Country, though:
Ten Flying W Points to the first person to identify this most perplexing object...
A Small Rant
Dear Fellow Shuttle Rider,
Today, as we sat on the shuttle to the train station, waiting for an elderly lady to close her car door so that our shuttle bus could proceed without ripping said door off said car, you decided to shout derisively to the driver "Hey! I got a train to catch!"
Really?
Asshole.
PS: He made his train by a good five minutes.
We just got back from visiting my Mom in Oklahoma City - I have plenty of material from that trip, but first I have to share this story.
Driving home from the airport last night we hit a lot of traffic, mainly due to the fires burning in the Los Angeles area. I mentioned that I was low on gas as we crawled along, but I thought I could make it home without any problem. I didn't want to stop, I wanted to get home after a long day of traveling.
Katy encouraged me to get off the freeway and get gas. I did not.
Then we got off the freeway to make our way home on surface streets. We went past many gas stations. Again, Katy encouraged me to stop at one for gas. Again, I did not.
In addition to not stopping, I deepened my own impending doom by delivering a small lecture about how many miles I thought I could get on a tank of gas and my belief that I had at least a gallon and a half left in the tank.
As we pulled into our subdivision the car started to lurch a little bit. Katy asked what was wrong. I told her we were running out of gas. The response went something like this:
"You had how many chances to stop for gas and now we're running out? If we don't make it home you are never going to hear the end of it!"
I started checking for likely street parking spots as we lurched up the hill to our house. Luckily, one last surge of fuel powered us into the driveway. Woo HOO!
Katy shook her head and told me in no uncertain terms that I was a lucky bastard, and that she was going to tell this story to everybody. I said that she was right, and that I would do her one better and put it in my weblog. I admit that it was perilously close, but I did get us home without mishap - more or less.
This morning I used my lawn mower gas to get the car down to the gas station. And now I know just how far I can go in my new (old) wheels!
A quick admission:
I blew my prediction on the World Series. I'm throwing away my Magic 8 Ball.
Good series, good baseball, good grief is Steinbrenner going to freak out!
UPDATE: Apparently it's the Red Sox that are freaking out. The World Series ended less than a week ago and they've already fired their manager and put Big Slugger Manny Ramirez on unconditional waivers. Tut, tut, tut.
This weekend I did some gardening. Normally I just take care of the grass but on Saturday I did some clean-up in the flower beds too - deadheading flowers, digging up the summer's spent plants, and pruning roses.
I spent a lot of time cleaning up our many society garlic plants. I cannot get the garlic smell off my hands.
So the Yankees knocked off the Red Sox last night, seemingly because Grady Little forgot he had a bullpen. This is disappointing.
I would have liked to see somebody else representing the AL in the World Series, but what I'm really going to miss is this season's Steinbrenner Freakout.
If the Yankees had fallen short of the World Series this year, who knows what kind of hilarity would have ensued? It would have made for a fun offseason.
My prediction for the Fall Classic? Yankees in five, coupled with record-low television ratings.
You may have noticed that I am spending a lot less time writing about this year's baseball playoffs. Rest assured I am watching.
Last night's NLCS Game 6 featured one of the more dramatic meltdowns I've ever seen. But let's get one thing perfectly clear: Mr. Cubs Fan, who tried to catch a foul ball, Did Not Cost The Cubs The Pennant All By Himself.
Here's my Blame Rundown -
Goat #1 is Alex Gonzalez, for misplaying a grounder that should have been an inning-ending double play.
Goat #2 is Dusty Baker, first for leaving Prior out there after Pierre opened the inning with a double, and having nobody in the bullpen ready when trouble started, second for calling for intentional walks to two guys who eventually came around to score. (I will say this - if the intentional walks worked - that is, if the Cubs had gotten out of the inning - then I would give Dusty credit. Since they didn't, he gets blame.)
Oh, and before I forget - Dusty also gets yesterday's Sour Grapes Award for blaming the fan in his postgame press conference.
Goat #3 is Fan Boy. People need somebody to blame, and he'll be it, today, tomorrow, and forever, entering into the Pantheon of Cubs Goats. He didn't allow 8 runs in an inning all by himself, but he's a convenient target. My question is, how quickly can they get him in the federal witness relocation program?
UPDATE: Here's a great quote from Moises Alou, regarding the Cub's "Billy Goat Curse"
''I'm not a Cubs fan; I'm a Cubs player,'' Alou said. "I don't believe in that crap.''
You go, Moises.
Let me just share some of the joy of living in Los Angeles.
I just saw a car chase go by my office on the freeway. Eight police cars chasing one SUV.
How great is that?
On Friday Pat and I had Chinese food for lunch. In keeping with tradition, "fortune" cookies were included in the deal.
Here is my "fortune:" Be Sure To Handle Financial Affairs Wisely
That's not a fortune, that's advice. Lately, I seem to get nothing but Advice Cookies, with the occasional Observation Cookie thrown in now and then.
Is it so difficult to come up with some kind of generic prediction, a la the classic "You will meet a tall dark stranger?"
Yesterday Cameron had some trouble at gymnastics class.
Seems he got impatient waiting for the little girl in front of him to climb up out of the "foam block pit" on a rope, and so he started up after her. In the ensuing squabble, she threw an elbow and smacked him squarely on the nose, which of course started to bleed.
Cameron began screaming bloody murder and, according to Katy, every head in the gym turned to see what was going on. The mother of the little girl rushed to the scene and started to apologize to Katy, but she wasn't having any of it. "Looks to me like he was asking for it."
Ahh, Cameron's first non-self-administered bloody nose. And his first run-in with the opposite sex (not counting his sister, of course). Should I save the tissue for his scrapbook? Or will this blog entry be enough of an embarrassment?
I feel like I spend a lot of time reporting on my son's antics in this weblog. Well, maybe not a lot - but of the "kids do the darndest things" stories, Cameron features prominently. There aren't as many stories about Claire.
Why is this? Theories abound, but basically she just doesn't get involved in the same kind of shenanigans that Cameron does. I won't try to figure out why that is. But I don't want my weblog readers to think that Claire is somehow less important to me just because she doesn't provide the surplus of weblog fodder her brother does.
So I will try to balance the scales a bit. Claire is my little ray of sunshine. She routinely comes into our room in the morning when I'm getting ready for work and greets me with a big smile and a bigger hug. She is, for the most part, a very cheerful little girl and she is awfully good at putting a smile on my face.
I'm sure there will be a time when Claire stories abound, but until then, rest assured I haven't forgotten her.
This is from my old hometown newspaper:
Halloween to remain Oct. 31Weatherford will observe Halloween on Oct. 31, Mayor Ed Berrong Jr. said.
The date falls on a Friday night football game and a number of individuals had already called City Hall asking if Halloween would be moved to another night.
The mayor decided to keep it the traditional night.
On some level it amazes me that this sort of thing is up for discussion. I do remember that if Halloween fell on a Sunday the observance of Halloween was moved so that it didn't interfere with evening church services. But it's still strange.