Briefly

This thing I’m doing on Saturdays lately where I get up and spend the first two or three hours of the day reading is really working for me. I finished an entire book cover-to-cover this morning. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me, but I like books.

Also, I finally gave up and went to the doctor last night after work, only to be told that my suspicion that my cold had morphed into a sinus infection was probably correct, but that said sinus infection was almost certainly viral and so there really wasn’t anything to be done other than wait it out and drink something called “throat coat” tea, which strikes me as a weirdly pornographic name for a beverage.

Today, I feel shittier than I have in the last several days. We’re up to two weeks and some change now, I think, and I’m heartily tired of this.

The end.

In which we build, ctd.

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Something happened today that, somehow, hasn’t happened yet, despite the fact that the boy is in first grade: he woke up feeling sick, and I decided to call in myself and keep him home for the day.  By noon my plan had been shown to be less than wise; a headache so bad that it had him swaying in the morning had given way to, well, nothing, and I’m finding myself fighting off a slightly delayed case of con crud.  I think it’ll run its course today and be done tomorrow, but I’m definitely low on spoons, if you know what I mean.

We spent the morning in Minecraft again, and I added a floating cabin, complete with waterfall and a manmade lake underneath, plus the totally-made-up flaming magic rocks that help it float– the floor in the house is actually made of glass covered in carpet because glass won’t burn and nothing else I was putting down was keeping the fires from getting through.  All of this is across the river from yesterday’s efforts.

In the background there is another floating fountain made of emerald.  Yes, there’s apparently a theme in this world; much like IT, everything floats down here.

Less mangled children, though, I suppose.

I’ll try and write something that isn’t about Minecraft tomorrow.  If nothing else, I have a book review or two to write.

In which we build

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I had plans for a post tonight, but instead the boy declared it was going to be Minecraft Night, so we each sprawled on the couch with an iPad in hand and made stuff.  I decided to go with an elemental shrine theme, building a pool with an infinite waterfall, a fire shrine, a nature garden (which was as close to “earth” as I could come up with) and a glass house in the sky only reachable by flying but providing an awesome double-slime-diving-board down to the lake below.

The boy only went with one element, shamelessly stealing my glass sky house idea, but then did it twelve thousand times as interesting as mine, so I think he wins.

So yeah.  I didn’t manage much of a post but I think I spent my evening pretty damn well.

On priorities

flat,1000x1000,075,f.jpgLet’s have a word, parents and grandparents.

It doesn’t really matter if your (maybe) four-year-old grandson is any good at Skee-Ball or Big Rig.  You hear me?  It doesn’t fucking matter at all.  Yes, I know if he’s more accurate he’ll get more tickets and be able to get more stuff from the redemption counter afterwards.  So is he, believe it or not.  And it doesn’t matter.  

He’s not going to care afterwards.  He’s not improving his motor functions when you stand behind him and browbeat him for fifteen minutes about keeping his elbow locked or his arm straight when he’s throwing a ball for Skee-Ball.  His timing isn’t going to be any better if the two of you stand behind him and shout NOW! (notably, not in unison) when you think he ought to be dropping a coin to hit a lever in Big Rig.  And if you, a grown-ass man old enough to have Seen some Shit in your life, who presumably raised some kids to adulthood already, elbow your four-year-old out of the way on this meaningless fucking game so that you can “do it right for him,” there is something seriously wrong with you.  

I mean, hell, you’ve made me hate you in less than half an hour, and I’m not the target of your constant hectoring and your bullshit over every single damn thing I do.  No wonder the kid’s “misbehaving” (by refusing to give up his last ball on his Skee-ball game as the timer slowly clicks the throw away anyway, because he doesn’t want you to do it for him); it’s not “kids these days,” as you griped to the other mysteriously old couple in my gameroom just now.  It’s that you’re both assholes and your grandson rightly doesn’t seem to like you very much, because he’s not having any fun.  

You have managed to take a kid to an arcade and make it not fun.  That’s unbelievable.  It would be an accomplishment to be proud of were it not so sad.

I mean, seriously: why the hell did you bring him here anyway?

On America’s pasttime

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This post will be of even less interest to the majority of you than usual, mostly because the vast majority of you aren’t local, but: I attended a AAA South Bend Cubs game at our local baseball parky-thingy Saturday night.  The stadium has been there a long time, but I probably haven’t been to a game since high school.  I remember enjoying the several games I went to, but “several” is probably the right word.  And since college I have almost completely abandoned watching sports as a means of recreation.  I know more than I pretend to a lot of the time but I literally can’t name a single currently working pro NFL or MLB player, probably not more than half a dozen NBA players, and not a single college athlete in any sport.

But anyway.  There’s something about baseball stadiums, right?  And I’ve never gotten to be in a skybox before, so being right behind home plate and in a spot where it was highly unlikely that I’d be hit by a fast-moving projectile was kinda cool.  Plus, hey, cash bar that served free soft drinks and free catering.  It was also a cool Dad Night, as my son knows nothing of baseball and had never been to a game, and I bought him a lightsaber to play with.  He had fun too.

Local folks, if you haven’t found an excuse to see a game at Four Winds Field lately, go.  Tickets are cheap and the experience is generally excellent, especially if you’re able to go on a night where there are fireworks.  Just sit along the third base line so you can see them better.  There are grassy fields to sit on in the outfield and bouncy houses for the littler kids and the usual concessions and all that other fun stuff.  If you’re around, go.  Even if you’re not into baseball, it’s a great way to spend a Saturday night.


Ran into a Trump supporter at work today, the first openly so individual I’ve actually encountered.  I had to eventually stare him down and tell him that I didn’t discuss politics at work, and his wife clearly has grown to loathe him and his need to insert politics and crazypants into every conversation with every stranger he meets.  I felt bad for her.  He probably needs a therapist.

In other words, pretty much exactly who I thought he’d be.