"Thingie" and Google Fu

Way back around post number two, I wrote about my gift with the female language, “Thingie”. It was that post that won me my first blogger writing award and secured the following and friendship of some of my long time blogger friends such as GunDiva. Well, my lovely wife (All hail The Queen! Long live The Queen!), over the course of our almost 10 years of marriage has taken “Thingie” to a whole new level. Please allow me to present the evidence.

First, The Queen has a horrible memory for movies and actors. Here is a fairly typical example:

The Setting - Imagine a husband busy at some task of daily living minding his own business when, from out of left field, this curve ball makes a u-turn and falls in his lap…

The Queen: Do you remember who that person was who was in the one a while back?

Me: Which person in one what when?

The Queen: I don’t remember.

Me: I need a hint here. Male/female? Animal, vegetable, mineral? Movie, TV, commercial? Anything? Bueller?

The Queen: She’s the one who plays a stupid woman all the time…

And so it goes until finally, I say “Aha! You mean Dustin Hoffman in ‘Tootsie’”

Nine times out of ten, I can guess the right answer in under twenty questions and five minutes. It is a stimulating exercise if you’ve never tried it.

But, my Queen is not content with that. She has now stepped up her game from Expert Thingie speaker to Grand Master Thingie Speaker. To wit, I submit the following example:

The Setting – settling into bed at midnight after a long day and needing to get up early the next day to get on the road.

The Queen: I need your help finding a song I heard on the radio a couple of weeks ago.

Me: Okay. Who’s it by?

The Queen: I don’t know.

Me: How does it go?

The Queen: I don’t remember. It was slow, with a lot of bass. I think it was sung by a black guy.”

Me: Lenny Kravitz?

The Queen: No.

Me: Can you give me anything else to work with?

The Queen: I took a picture.

[The Queen shows me a very blurry photo of our car stereo display which shows the radio station ID and, ironically, Puddle of Mudd – Blurry. Also, there is a word at the top that is either “ination” or “iration” or something like that.]

I pull up Puddle of Mudd – Blurry on iTunes for a sample.

The Queen: That’s not it.

Me: Are you sure? That’s what the radio is showing.

The Queen: I’m sure that’s not it.

Me: Okay. Let me see what else I can do.

At this point, I am forced to unleash my Google Fu. The first thing I come up with is the radio station’s play list. They only keep the list for the current day and the previous day up on their website, but I give it a look any way.

A song jumps off the list as being in heavy rotation, and I pull it up on iTunes for another sample.

The Queen: That’s it. What’s the name?

Me: Sail by Awolnation.

The Queen: How did you find that?

As near as I can tell, The Queen took her photo just as the station was moving to the next song. The radio moves the last song to a ticker tape at the top under the station ID, and she caught it just as Awolnation was marching across the screen. What I mistook for “ination” was “lnation” and that was what caught my eye on the play list. Sail is on heavy rotation (five to six times a day), and is the only band with “nation” in its name.

Score major bonus points for Daddy Hawk and his Google Fu.

An Obituary to be Envied

Not mine of course. Candance at Crazy Texas Mommy got around to writing an obit for her recently deceased father-in-law. I may have to commission her to write mine if she is still alive at the time of my inevitable and hopefully long overdue demise. That's assuming I can't find the person who wrote this obit supposedly published in 2006. I say supposedly because I found it on Neal Boortz's website sometime back, and he was known to put up the odd bit of fictional humor from time to time. So, take it for the grain of salt that it is.

Frederic Arthur (Fred) Clark, who had tired of reading obituaries noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it known that he lost his battle as a result of an automobile accident on June 18, 2006. True to Fred's personal style, his final hours were spent joking with medical personnel while he whimpered, cussed, begged for narcotics and bargained with God to look over his wife and kids. He loved his family. His heart beat faster when his wife of 37 years Alice Rennie Clark entered the room and saddened a little when she left. His legacy was the good works performed by his sons, Frederic Arthur Clark III and Andrew Douglas Clark MD, PhD., along with Andy's wife, Sara Morgan Clark. Fred's back straightened and chest puffed out when he heard the Star Spangled Banner and his eyes teared when he heard Amazing Grace. He wouldn't abide self important tight *censored*. Always an interested observer of politics, particularly what the process does to its participants, he was amused by politician's outrage when we lie to them and amazed at what the voters would tolerate. His final wishes were "throw the bums out and don't elect lawyers" (though it seems to make little difference). During his life he excelled at mediocrity. He loved to hear and tell jokes, especially short ones due to his limited attention span. He had a life long love affair with bacon, butter, cigars and bourbon. You always knew what Fred was thinking much to the dismay of his friend and family. His sons said of Fred, "he was often wrong, but never in doubt". When his family was asked what they remembered about Fred, they fondly recalled how Fred never peed in the shower - on purpose. He died at MCV Hospital and sadly was deprived of his final wish which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a double date to include his wife, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter to crash an ACLU cocktail party. In lieu of flowers, Fred asks that you make a sizable purchase at your local ABC store or Virginia winery (please, nothing French - the *censored*) and get rip roaring drunk at home with someone you love or hope to make love to. Word of caution though, don't go out in public to drink because of the alcohol related laws our elected officials have passed due to their inexplicable terror at the sight of a MADD lobbyist and overwhelming compulsion to meddle in our lives. No funeral or service is planned. However, a party will be held to celebrate Fred's life. It will be held in Midlothian, Va. Email fredsmemory@yahoo.com for more information. Fred's ashes will be fired from his favorite cannon at a private party on the Great Wicomico River where he had a home for 25 years. Additionally, all of Fred's friend (sic) will be asked to gather in a phone booth, to be designated in the future, to have a drink and wonder, "Fred who?"

Published in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on 7/9/2006.

More Cuteness Than You Can Shake a Stick At

I know I am a little biased about the cuteness level of my daughter, but it's hard not to be when people follow you around the store to stare at her and tell us how beautiful she is. It's a little creepy sometimes too.

I'm guessing this is pretty typical behavior for a kid her age, but M&M just cannot stand to have her shoes on her feet. So, as soon as she gets in the car, off come the shoes. She also has a tendency to go to sleep in the car. Of course, when you fall asleep mid-unshoeing, some fairly comical results ensue.

No joke, I could watch this little girl sleep all day long. There is just something angelic about a sleeping baby.

The Queen and I just hate, HATE I tell you, holding this little girl. We can't stop grinning when we hold her. It's an awesome feeling.

The Queen was a tad upset, in a laughing "I can't believe you did that" sort of way, when I took M&M to the store looking like this. Hey, who am I to stifle the inner sticker creativity of M&M?

Someone has discoverd their belly button. For whatever reason, she was given an outie. At least she will never have to worry about belly button lint like her old man.

A Little Friday Humor

I came across an old Word document with some jokes that I had collected. Here's one of my favorites:


The pastor entered his donkey in a race and it won. The pastor was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and it won again.

The local paper read: PASTOR'S ASS OUT FRONT.

The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the pastor not to enter the donkey in another race.

The next day, the local paper headline read: BISHOP SCRATCHES PASTOR'S ASS.


This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the pastor to get rid of the donkey. The pastor decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent.

The local paper, hearing of the news, posted the following headline the next day: NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN.

The bishop fainted. He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.

The next day the paper read: NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.

This was too much for the bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey and lead it to the plains where it could run wild.

The next day the headlines read: NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE.

The bishop was buried the next day.

The moral of the story is... being concerned about public opinion can bring you much grief and misery... and even shorten your life. So, be yourself and enjoy life.

Stop worrying about everyone else's ass and you'll be a lot happier and live longer!

Daddy Hawk’s Advice to M&M, Part 2

1. Have dreams and goals. Everyone needs something for which to strive. 

Corollary: Have a plan to achieve your dreams and goals. 

Codicil to the Corollary: Be flexible in your plans. Life is not fair, and a plan is nothing more than an idea that has not been beaten into submission by cold, hard reality.   

2. “And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men.” Col. 3:23 NKJV 

3. Guys and girls cannot be “just friends”. 

Corollary: Most guys that say they are “just your friend” still want to sleep with you. 

Addendum to the Corollary: Good luck getting them to admit that. 

Exceptions: Very rare. 

4. Don't ever buy a time share. 

Corollary: No, really. Don't. EVER! 

Exceptions: I can't think of one. 

5. Perfection does not exist in this life time. There are no perfect people, political candidates, churches, schools or spouses or anything else for that matter. There has only been one perfect human being to walk this earth. His name was Jesus, and He was hated so much for it that He was crucified. 

Corollary: Most people are about 90/10 on the perfection scale. The problem is we spend all our time focusing on and trying to fix the 10% that's not perfect instead of spending time enjoying the 90% that is. 

Addendum to the Corollary: There's no pleasing some people.

Mini Me and The Banshee Update

Even though it's been about six weeks since we had to have Mini Me and The Banshee moved from our care to another home, bio mom has been keeping The Queen updated via text. The bio parents started getting Mini Me and The Banshee for weekend visits a couple of weeks ago after finally getting an apartment. Well, The Queen just texted me that the bio parents will get Mini Me and The Banshee back full time this afternoon after 2:00 PM.

Truly, I have mixed emotions about their return. On the one hand, I am very pleased that the parents were able to work their services plan and get their kids back. From everything I ever saw of them together, they genuinely love their kids and the kids are fiercely love them in return. I am a little disappointed that we will not get to see the final reunion take place, but such is life.

On the other hand, I have reservations about the abilities of the bio parents to make wise decisions going forward. I doubt that this will be their last brush with the system, and I am especially concerned that cycle will be repeated in Mini Me and The Banshee's lives as they grow up and learn by example.

I hope that I am wrong, but I suspect that I am not. I wish them the best, and I pray that they will all be alright.

I Hope You Didn't Give Up Cuteness For Lent...

...'cause I have photos of the cutest baby in the world to share.

No, seriously. She really is the cutest.
 

All dolled up for a wedding...thankfully not hers yet.

She has her very own cowgirl hat courtesy of Auntie My Sister...The Devil

It's only taken 15 months, but J.G. has finally accepted M&M as a snuggle partner

Fresh out of the tub and chillin' with buddy bear