Archive for November, 2006

Happy Tofurky Day!

Posted in Mumblings, Veganism on November 23, 2006 by Brad

Actually I still refuse to touch Tofurky (sorry Tofurky-peeps, I am sure it is very tasty but I still have my doubts about soybeans masquerading as meat). Way too Tofakey. But we did enjoy some yams, green beans, mashed potatoes and squash. I would share the delectable recipes, but in truth all I did was beat the potatoes into submission with a wooden spoon.

I have much to be thankful for today. I am thankful every day to live in such a beautiful city (but let’s not talk about the drivers OK?), in the home that I own (technically the bank owns most of it but if I sold it I could pay them back and still have six figures left over) with my beautiful wife and two exceptional dogs. I am thankful that my wife is a brilliant cook (and could also be a spectacular hooker if she wanted), that I have a job where I am paid to do something that I enjoy (banging on stuff until it breaks) and that I am able to get through every day clean and sober. I am thankful for my son, thankful beyond belief that I get to see him and talk to him on the phone and get crazy crayoned pictures from him – all this because his parents are incredibly good and forgiving people. I am thankful for my great friends who have kept me sober, cheered me on and been there for me on the many occasions when I fell down again. I am thankful for the music which inspires. More than anything, I am thankful for second chances (and third and fourth and…). Yeah. I have had so many.

I am thankful to live in this world. Which is huge for someone who until a few months ago spent all his time trying to run away from it.


Weird is as weird does

Posted in Mumblings on November 22, 2006 by Brad

I have been tagged by Nicole to come out and admit to all my weirdnesses. Sadly, I am not at all weird in my opinion, so here are some things I do that other people have told me are weird.

  1. I write equally well with either hand. Unfortunately, I am told my handwriting looks like that of a kindergartener, so I probably should say I write equally badly with either hand.
  2. I like olives and anchovies (although I no longer eat anchovies due to being a vegan). When I shared a house, I would frequently order olive and anchovy pizzas, which ensured I would get the whole thing to myself since nobody else in the house would touch the hairy fish. As a child I would request jars of olives for Christmas.
  3. My list of five women who my wife agrees I am allowed to uh… get jiggy with should the opportunity present itself is: Helena Bonham Carter, Laurie Anderson, Sumi Jo, Sylvie Guillem, and Laura Bush. People tell me these are odd choices, but allow me to explain. Helena Bonham Carter has this waif-like innocence about her that I cannot get enough of. Also, she is gorgeous. Laurie Anderson because I have so much respect for her art and I want to know what makes her tick, ditto for Sumi Jo plus I want to hear that voice in the throes of passion. Sylvie Guillem because have you seen how flexible she is? And Laura Bush someplace really public because I want to get caught.
  4. I get hooked on songs and have to listen to them over and over on repeat until I am all listened out. Then I can go years without listening to that song again.
  5. I once tried to pee while doing a handstand to prove that it is not true that you cannot pee while upside down. I could not pee but I chalk this up to performance anxiety.
  6. I am strangely obsessed with flossing. Sometimes I floss several times a day.
  7. I am strangely obsessed with q-tips. My ears itch and I have to stick a q-tip in there and massage my brain.
  8. I never, ever get rid of books. Even ratty old paperbacks that I got second hand. Except for a few I have lent and never got back.
  9. One time I went swimming while I had a cold and discovered that having a blocked nose allowed me to breathe underwater.
  10. I cannot sleep without something covering me, no matter how hot it is.

Pondering the noble savage

Posted in Adoption on November 16, 2006 by Brad

As I was reading about the notion of the noble savage, I could not help drawing a parallel between that and the stereotype fed to parents involved in voluntary relinquishment.

  • Generosity, fidelity and selflessness (She gave up her baby for the good of the child)
  • Innocence (Not always, but often all the failings are heaped on the biological father and the mother comes out squeaky clean)
  • Moral courage (I could never give up my baby like she did)
  • “Natural” intelligence or innate, untutored wisdom (So wise to give her baby a better life)

‘In the 20th century, the concept of the “noble savage” came to be seen as unrealistic and condescending. Insofar as it was based on certain stereotypes, it came to be considered a form of patronizing racism, even when it replaced the previous stereotype of the bloodthirsty savage.’ [from Wikipedia]

Sadly, adoption seems to be largely behind the times. Only relatively recently has the press changed from “bad girl spawning bastard child” to “noble, selfless birth mother”. They had to change with the times. No longer are women susceptible to the “naughty girl, you had sex out of wedlock” admonishment which Suz relates here. No, it is now the concept of nobility and wisdom that is currently fed to young pregnant women. All part of the coercion, the entrapment that makes them so unwilling to change their minds because the noble birth mother who changes her mind at the eleventh hour becomes the evil baby snatcher, tearing the child away from the fine, upstanding, righteous adoptive parents. Fascinating how it is so completely twisted 180 degrees.

And he’s buying… an air guitar t-shirt

Posted in Mumblings, Music on November 14, 2006 by Brad

Whaaaaa?! How in the name of all that is sanity did these guys get research funds for an air guitar t-shirt?

Also, how do I get to work on that project?

Join the Black Parade

Posted in Lamentations, Mumblings, Music on November 13, 2006 by Brad

My Chemical Romance just gets better and better. Call me a teeny-bopper if you will, I care not a whit, these guys were well worth waiting in a line for a day and a half. I fear I am addicted. Encore!

The high was short-lived, however. Still buzzed, I set about logging into this very blog to taunt the rest of the world with my good fortune in getting tickets to see MCR at the tiny venue they appeared at, when – FZZZT! … followed by the whine of every electrical device in the house powering down. Why does this always happen in the dead of night? After a fruitless search for a flashlight while enduring my wife berating me for never having the 60 year old wiring updated, I decided the screen on my cellphone was bright enough and went to check out the fuse box. Yep, fuses blown. Given my luck finding a flashlight, I figured my chances of finding the replacement fuses in the dark were negligible, so we turned in like good Amish folks.

Next day was spent in a frenzy of activity as I repeatedly blew fuses before reaching the conclusion that the whole shebang was royally fucked. In the midst of it all I was offered a job interview. Talk about stressors… in a way I have our power failure to thank for my continued sobriety because it meant I spent an inordinate amount of time with my sponsor. I mean, candles are romantic and all, but when you have no computer, no TV, no washer or dryer, no refrigerator and, horror of horrors, no coffee machine the grip on sanity becomes somewhat tenuous after several days.

I believe I invented an entire new language composed entirely of cuss words over the course of the many days spent inside crawl spaces (being skinny has its advantages). The triumphant booting of the PC on its shiny new power grid was rendered somewhat less triumphant by the repeated blue-screens-of-death, and despite hours of frantic resuscitation attempts I completely failed to resurrect it. To my chagrin, I was forced to reinstall my system (can we say three cheers for having the OS on a separate partition to the rest of the data) and finally I have returned to the land of the living dead, battered and bruised in body and spirit, but the strength of my conviction has prevailed.

And a hearty fuck you to whoever installed the electrics in my house in the first place. You clueless bastard.

Oh yeah, and I got the job.