Fortune Favors the Cold (Sesame Noodles)

Whenever I eat Chinese food, I want a happy ending.

The beginning is guaranteed to be good, since I always have wonton soup. But the end is... unpredictable.

The cookie itself matters not. It's all about the fortune inside. But I don't want trite, pithy sayings. I want something memorable. Something like:

I got that one my senior year of college, and it started my collection. And though most of the fortunes I've come across over the years have been dull, soulless things, I've occasionally struck gold. Here's a sampling, haphazardly arranged into groups:

Um... What?

• Do what is right, not what you should.
• Now go to it! It's ready to be pick.

Double the Pleasure, Double the Fun

• We are very happy together.
• There is a true and sincere friendship between you both.

The Future Is Bright

• You will be advanced socially, without any special effort.
• You will be fortunate in everything

Nope, Not at All Creepy

• Someone will visit you soon.

Finally, Some Sage Advice

• Keep your goals away from the trolls.
• Teamwork makes the dream work.
• Eat your vegetable and you'll grow up big and strong like Popeye.
• You can depend on the trust of the collective.
• Simplicity and clarity should be the theme in your dress.
• Make big plans.
• You are a perfectionist. Don't spoil it.
• When in doubt, mumble.

Now You Tell Me

• Warning: Do not eat your fortune

Time to Drop Some Knowledge

• You have a potential urge and the ability for accomplishment.
• It is a great piece of skill to know how to guide your luck. Even while waiting for it.
• The only rose without a thorn is friendship.

Okay, Stop Dropping the Knowledge. It Clearly Has a Head Injury.

• For the things we have to learn before we can do them, we learn by doing them.
• If absolute can be defined, then absolute is not absolute anymore.
• Your sweetheart may be too beautiful for words but not for arguments.
• Many people who have power become a deaf mute.

Wow, This One's Actually True

• Your spouse's bills are yours and yours are yours.

These Are Also True... and Almost Clever. Almost.

• What is to give light must endure the burning.
• Forbidden fruit creates many jams.
• The man on the top of the mountain did not fall there.

But This One? It's the Truest of Them All

• Great! You're ready for a party.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back... Into Improv

Back in September, I said I was giving up on improv, and would use the time to work on my novel instead. Since then, I have indeed made some progress. Namely, I:

• finally completed the first draft;
• re-structured my epic list of planned revisions, organizing the edits by chapter, character, and general terms;
• created a spreadsheet mapping individual character arcs, and the emotions and motivations of each character on a chapter-by-chapter basis;
• selected a new opening for the first chapter (from among six) after much deliberation;¹
• found a resource to answer many research questions concerning detectives and security firms; and
• made this list.

So, have I started writing the second draft? Um...no, not officially.²

Although the holidays and the Winter Olympics have proved distracting, there has also been another impeding factor.³ You see, in November I took a musical improv class.

I know, I know. Yes, I said I was giving up on improv, but I never said I was giving up on musical improv. (For the uninitiated, that's a different thing entirely.) I figured I'd have a blast over the six weeks (I did), and then take a break until the next musical improv opportunity arose.

Long story short: It turns out musical improv is my gateway drug.

By mid-January, I'd signed up for a normal improv class⁴ and been recruited into a Marvel-based improv show.⁵ But this isn't like before; this time around I'll maintain the proper balance. I'll do improv (but not overdo it). I'll write on a regular schedule (but not too regular). And I'll eat lots and lots of ice cream.

Can't go wrong with ice cream.⁶


Nor can you go wrong with heroes, villains, and someone pretending to be Stan Lee. If you're in CT next Friday (March 2), come see Improvised Marvel!

ink by Kevin O'Toole, color by me
(click to embiggen)

5 Lists of 5 For No Reason in Particular

I hadn't posted in a while, so I thought I would. And why bother with a cohesive idea when I can just put together a bunch of lists? (Okay, so I guess I had reasons after all.)

[+] Show/Hide All

5 Things My 6-Year-Old Son Has Said Somewhat Recently

1. "He's a water jet. He can't go in the water."
   "Can't? If he can't go in water, shouldn't he be a non-water jet?"
   "Well, at the beginning there is a silent 'non'."
2. "I'm tired of sleeping."
3. "I was trying to speak to the chipmunk in bird language, since I don't know how to speak chipmunk."
4. "I fell in love with her the first day I met her... I'm trying to get to marry her, but she has a different teacher this year."
5. "When people love me, I just hug 'em."

5 Non-Traditional Ways to Defend Yourself Against Attack by Vampire

1. Stay inside your house all the time.
   And don't invite anyone in. I mean no one. Vampires can only come in if they're invited. Did your husband just bring out the trash? Chances are he's been turned. Lock him out.
2. Stay outside all the time.
   And keep heading east. Move with the sun. As long as that glorious ball of flame keeps shining overhead—and as long as you steer clear of the shade—you'll be safe.
3. Drink nothing but holy water.
   One taste, and your blood will burn that vamp from the inside out. A couple round battle scars on your neck are a small price to pay for victory. (Holy frijoles and/or guacamole are also fine ways to supplement your diet.)
4. An army of drone bodyguards just out of visual range. Armed with lasers.
   With lasers!
5. Clothing entirely covered with pointy wooden stakes.
   The latest in Milan fashion! And if that toothy character tries anything, just give him a great big hug.

5 Books I've Stopped Reading But Have Left Bookmarks In, and Why

1. The Yiddish Policemen's Union, Michael Chabon
   p. 236 of 411, 3 years ago
   I tend to slog through Chabon novels—I paused for 3 months 50 pages into Kavalier & Clay—but I still kind of want to know how it ends.
2. In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto, Michael Pollan
   p. 106 of 205, 2 years ago
   When we moved, this ended up back on the bookshelf. I only remembered today, while making this list.
3. Wonderbook: The Illustrated Guide to Creating Imaginative Fiction, Jeff Vandermeer
   p. 16 of 357, 1 year ago
   Opening chapters didn't keep my interest. Rather than read straight through, when I jump back in I'll skip around a bit.
4. The Master and Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov
   p. 232 of 402, 3 months ago
   Made it through book one, but apparently over-the-top Russian satire isn't really my thing. Maybe I'll go back to it?
5. The Nowhere Man, Gregg Hurwitz
   p. 84 of 358, 23 hours ago
   It was late, and I had work in the morning.

5 Ways Vampires Can Counteract Your Non-Traditional Defenses Against Them

1. Cut your power. Repeatedly.
   With your internet down and phone dead, eventually you won't be able to pay your landlord/mortgage/taxes, and soon you'll be out on your ass. Hey, good things come to those who wait.
2. Full-body prosthetics from top Hollywood makeup artists.
   They'll walk right up to you, with you none the wiser. They won't be on fire or nothin'. And then you'll be toast.
3. Two words: Food taster.
4. Three words: Trained attack bats.
   Possibly radio-controlled attack bats. Because, fun!
5. A Spider-Man style upside-down kiss. Of death.
   Alas, your dress made of stakes can't protect you against attacks from above. Try all you want, but you'll never quite touch that man's heart.

5 Reasons You Should Be Disappointed With This Post

1. I didn't include a single picture of my son with his curls and gap-toothed grin.
2. Two vampire-related lists, and no cracks about Twilight.
3. Not a single footnote. Not one.¹
4. There's no list of ways to counteract the vampires' counters. You're doomed.
5.  

¹ Nope. Sorry. Adding one after the fact doesn't count.

What Else I Was Doing When I Should Have Been Writing

Last month, I mentioned I'd been spending too much time doing improv, and had been neglecting my novel as a result. But of course, improv wasn't the only thing keeping me from my fiction.

Writing should be one of my top priorities whenever my son is asleep, watching TV, or not at home. But it would seem I'm too easily distracted. Here's a partial list of what I was doing instead:

• I was writing. Admittedly, the number of blog posts has been steadily declining (apart from a 31-day attempt at a kick-start last January), but it's still something.
   
• I read a lot. And watched a bunch of TV. Far too much TV.
   
• I was writing. I enter literary agent Janet Reid's flash fiction contests on occasion, and have garnered one win each of the last three years (and five in total).
   
• I fixed up a house, packed up a house, and moved to a new house. (And maintained the old house for far too long.)
   
• I was writing. Lyrics. To a parody mash-up of Hamilton's "Non-Stop" and Thomas the Tank Engine.
   
• I built 200 square feet of patio. I am so proud I did this myself (with some assistance from Denise and the boy), and so proud I'll never have to do it again.
   
• I was writing. Lyrics. And melody. For an original song which I envision being the opening to a musical (which may never get written, and still needs full orchestration).
   
• I built a shed — and the platform it goes on — with my dad. Compared to the patio, this was a cake walk. (But don't worry, no cake was trod upon.)
   
• I was writing. Personalized birthday and wedding cards. Recently, these have included a Choose-Your-Own Adventure, an escape room, an overabundance of anagrams, and an homage to the game Secret Hitler.
   
• I did the dishes. So many dishes.
   
• I was writing. Clues. For 3 crosswords which I created just to see if I could. There's a mid-week puzzle, a Sunday puzzle, and a cryptic crossword. I was aiming for NY Times quality, but as these were my first attempts I fell a bit short.
  
  • Download a PDF of all 3 puzzles
  • And if you need them, tips for solving cryptic crosswords

So yeah, that's what I've been doing. Which makes the solution pretty clear: Naomi, if you want me to finish my novel, you'd better come do our dishes.

I'm Full of It

Wherein it = thank. I am full of thank.

Yes, the next four years are going to be scary. When a man who believes in gay conversion therapy is considered the sane one in the bunch, we've got problems. But as worried as I am about the coming Trumpocalypse, more than anything else I am thankful.

For what am I thankful? I'm glad I'm pretending you asked.

• Everyone who voted for those turkeys, because without them we wouldn't yet know just how broken our country is, and now we can work to fix it.
   
  
• My son, because to him I'm the funniest person in the world.
   
  
• Improv, because sometimes a guy just needs to pretend he's plankton for a while, or to sing of the many benefits of a lost toe.¹
   
  
• Friends and family, because alliteration? Awesome.
   
  
• Those times when you think you're out of cheese but it turns out you still have some cheese left, because mmm cheese.
   
  
• Cats and kittens, because they make absolutely fantastic hand warmers during the cold winter months.
   
  
• Cold winter months, because of what I already said about cats and kittens. Do I have to draw you a diagram?
   
  
• Epiphany moments, because, I mean, c'mon.
   
  
• And of course, my lovely wife Denise, because even after all this time, her taste in husbands has not improved one bit.

Happy Turkey Day, everyone!


¹ You save money on nail polish, for instance. And pedicures. Toe stubbings drop 10%. Plus, now your foot will fit into that dashing prince's glass slipper.

Pictures Or It Didn't Happen

That used to be a thing. Someone would share something they did or witnessed, and then someone else would say, "Pictures or it didn't happen." Basically, calling the story-teller out as a liar. It was a dick move.

Since I don't have photos to illustrate any of this, here's a bunch of stuff that didn't happen over the past couple months. You know, if you're a dick.

• I ordered a small dish of ice cream for myself for the first time ever.¹
• My son learned how to play checkers, chess, Stratego, Sorry!, Catan Junior, and Battleship. He's 5, so he doesn't yet understand the strategy for the first three games, but if you're playing him in any of the others, watch out.²
• The imaginary superhero my son named after himself and told stories about for over a year was killed off by his new imaginary superhero.
• My brother-in-law wore a dress on stage. Again. (He's not an actor, a cross-dresser, or transgender. He's just a guy who is far too willing to follow scripts I write.)
• A squirrel drowned in our pool. It's a small inflatable pool, and the squirrel should have easily stood on its hind paws and clawed its way out. Since it didn't, this was obviously a hit by the Squirrel Mafia.
• My son and nephew gained new amazing abilities. They could see a road from the top of a mountain using their far-away vision, the backside of a building from the front using their see-everything vision, and who was behind a door using their x-ray vision. Denise had to keep telling them to stop using that last one in the restrooms.
• On my birthday, I took the day off from work for the first time in ten years. I didn't replace a toilet ring like last year's birthday, but I thought about it.
• I replaced a toilet ring.³
• Over the span of one month, we found 3-4 dozen dead bees in our sunroom (and a few in our kitchen). They each succumbed in a different spot, showed no signs of cat attack, and only twice did we see one alive. These were obviously hits by the Squirrel Mafia.⁴
• Oh yeah, and I took a bunch of pictures.

¹ In my defense, the shop's "small" is larger than most places' larges. Their "large" can feed a family of 4 for a week. (Yeah, I still regret not going with the large.)
² Especially in Battleship. He cheats.
³ Also its innards. Or, if you'd prefer, the toilet's reproductive organs. (Because, you know, those parts are how it reproduces the same flush every time.)
⁴ Don't even try to say it was the Bee Mafia. Everyone knows there's no such thing. Here in New England, the WASPs have the power.

Going Once, Going Twice...

What do you know, the old house sold. For real this time and everything. We have a few minor repairs to do, but come the end of April we will have finally attained the American dream.

You know: a single mortgage.

Not only is this great news for our bank accounts, but it's also a boon for my novel. Because without the distraction of the second house, I can now focus more on
spending time with my son
reading the books on my nightstand
creating breathtaking photographs
eating ice cream
painting rooms in the new house
coming up with an April Fools prank
making a dent in my Netflix list
sleeping in
exercising more
avoiding doing the dishes
constructing raised-bed gardens
improving my fantasy baseball team
getting the band back together
watching cat videos
honing my improvisation skills
eating even more ice cream
redesigning my blog
spoiling my wife rotten
trying out more local restaurants
inventing new methods of procrastination
playing board and card games
unpacking boxes remaining from our move
listing a bunch of things and crossing them out
writing.

Other Stuff I Did

So, along with the things I already mentioned, what else have I done since I embarked on my 7-month hiatus from blogging last year? I'm glad I asked.

• Earned my Master's Degree in Tetrising from PODS University.
   
• Celebrated my son's 4th birthday, complete with a pirate cake, pirate hats, pirate eye patches, pirate scabbards, and of course, a dinosaur.
   
• Commemorated my 5th wedding anniversary with the standard 5-year gift: a full-sized wooden house.
   
• Completely embarrassed myself playing cricket. And I was the only American in the game who'd played it before.
   
• Replaced my 12-year-old hybrid with a traditional gas-guzzler. Yeah, it surprised me, too. Even more shocking? I bought American.
   
• Started reading an insanely long piece of fan fiction. On purpose.
   
• Witnessed far far far too many YouTube toy review videos. Wow are some many most practically every single one of these bad.
   
• Wrote this post.

10 Star Wars Tie-Ins Disney Forgot to Do

Moichandising, moichandising, moichandising!

When two of the most unapologetic merchandising engines in the world joined forces (i.e. when Disney acquired Lucasfilm), we knew Star Wars would soon permeate every aspect of our lives. From waffle makers to condensed soup to in-store promotions to acquaintances' Friendster pages, Star Wars is everywhere. Or is it?

I've uncovered ten areas where Disney is not taking full advantage of the merchandising possibilities. As far as I know, the following product tie-ins do not yet exist:

1. Rylo Ken & Barbie's Dream House
    
2. BB-8 Sings BB King's 8 Greatest Hits
    
3. The Buffalo Light Sabres¹
    
4. Are Yoosa Smarter Than a Jar Jar?
    
5. The "Luke, I Am Your Father" Paternity Test²
    
6. The Ewok eWok³
    
7. Han Solo Solo-brand cups
    
8. The Darth Mall⁴
    
9. Yoda Soda⁵
    
10. The Walking Carpet

Come on, Disney. Let's get these things out on the market already.⁶

Slackers.


¹ Opponents are going to lose a lot more than their teeth.
² Yeah, I know it's not the actual quote. It's okay; you might not be the actual father, either.
³ Fry up some environmentalists without harming the environment.
⁴ Its main concourse will have plenty of automatic doors. And, of course, an Orange Julius.
⁵ When 900 calories you reach...
⁶ Also Jabba the Hutt the Hut.

Mind the Gap

Between May and December of last year, The Wheel was eerily silent. I had my reasons for abandoning my post(s), though for the first time I can recall, laziness wasn't one of them.

Maybe you're curious what I was up to during my hiatus. Probably not, but I don't really care; I'm going to tell you anyway. Here's a taste of what has happened in my life the past eight months:

• I lost 15 lbs on my new diet regimen, the Get-Stressed-and-Overwork-Yourself-Fixing-Up-the-House-to-Sell Diet Plan. (I have since gained 2/3 of it back with the classic Show-No-Willpower-During-the-Holidays Plan.)
   
• We moved one town away, to a bigger house with a larger yard, and we still don't have room for all our belongings. (Okay, technically we do, since we haven't sold the old house yet. But that's a tale for another day.)
   
• In the span of four days in June, I laughed at a big baby with some senior citizens, flashed a stranger on a busy street, played ping pong with a trio of Swedes, finished off a Ginger Ninja, and high-fived a guy who once wrote a novel about a sock monkey.
   
• For Halloween, I reprised my costume from a decade years earlier and went as the superhero Captain Spatula. (My first time around, he'd been merely Spatula Man. With his promotion, he got a shinier cape and spiffier kitchen utensils.)
   
• I won a 100-word writing contest primarily because I found a way to make the word "weekly" creepy. No, really. I'll share it with you soon.
   
• My cat was named Mr. January in a nationally distributed calendar. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, librarians everywhere are already fawning over lil' Schrödinger. Thanks, Baker & Taylor!
   
• My son turned four. He's damn cute.

"...So, I Get Ten Ninja Clowns"

Over the holidays, my son branched out. He's still enthralled with construction trucks, but now he's equally into Legos and games. And thanks to one of the latter, he's also getting good at telling stories (which never stay on plot, but always include a boy seeing a burning building).

Anyway, these aren't even the craziest things my son has said the past couple months. They're just the craziest ones I remembered to write down.

We're starting dinner, but he's still in the living room. I know nothing we're eating that night will entice him to stop playing, but there's also a bowl of fruit on the table. So I call out, "I'm eating one of your graaaapes."
From the living room: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(now keep in mind he's never seen The Simpsons or Family Guy or anything like that)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(so we have no idea where he got this from)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(but he kept going for 8-10 seconds)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

And then he comes to dinner. Five minutes later.
~~~~~
I have just left the room. My nephew turns to my son.
"We need to see Uncle Nat."
"No, he's gone forever."
~~~~~
"Why don't I have brothers or sisters?"
"Because Mommy and I haven't had any other kids yet. Do you want a brother or sister?"
"I want Nick and Alex [his cousins] to be my brother and sister. I want Nick to be my sister and Alex to be my brother."
~~~~~
I'm trying to explain the concept of English.
"We speak English."
"I don't."
"Sure you do. The language we speak is called English."
"No, I speak Normal."
~~~~~
"Can I PLEASE eat the head of Santa?"
~~~~~
He stands next to one cousin, who is 7" taller, and looks up at him.
"We're the same size!"
~~~~~
To a cousin, while in said cousin's house:
"Did you know you have toys in your basement?! Come on, I'll show you!"
~~~~~
Explaining the rules of a game we're "playing":
"...so, I get ten ninja clowns."

As you might expect, the game has absolutely nothing to do with clowns, barely anything to do with ninjas, and he had just rolled a 6.
~~~~~
He holds up something built out of Duplo-style Lego blocks. It looks like a top-heavy tower.
"I made a pewer with a window."
"A what? You mean a tower?"
"No, a pewer."
"A pewer?"
"With a window."

It took another 20 seconds of back-and-forth before I figured out what a pewer is. (It's something that you point at people as you go "Pew! Pew! Pew!") (Duh.)

For the First Time Ever

My first 13 Christmases were spent at home, without any sort of celebration (unless the day happened to coincide with Hanukkah). I spent my next 16 Christmases in movie theaters and Chinese restaurants. Then I met my wife. The past 8 Christmases have been more "traditional" in their yuletide cheer: trees and gifts and ham and cookies and gifts. And for some reason, myrrh.

And yet, despite this year being Christmas #37 (of a sort), I still managed many Christmas firsts...

• For the first time ever, I saw It's a Wonderful Life. Wow. Jimmy Stewart is an amazing actor.
   
• For the first time ever, I saw Elf. Wow. Will Ferrell is an actor.
   
• For the first time ever, I performed a christening. Only afterward did I learn it's not traditionally done with two bottles of wine, and also there's no reason to ever christen a driveway. But in my defense I'm still relatively new to all this stuff.
   
• For the first time ever, I watched grown men battle for victory in perhaps the most hotly contested game of dreidel ever — a game that did not involve real money or real chocolate. The lone Jew (me) was ousted first, leaving six Catholics to vie for the crown — and there wasn't even a real crown.
   
• And for the first time ever, I watched my three-year-old son receive a Nerf gun that shoots darts up to 100 feet, weighs nearly 5 pounds, and is 4 inches taller than he is. Thanks a lot, Tim.

Webs for Other Bugs That are Good

My son will soon be three. He still loves animals and books, but he recently moved onto the gold standard for boys his age: construction vehicles. Most nights before bath time, he's more dirt than boy.

Here are some more tidbits from the past few months:

We're setting the table for dinner.
Him: "That's my barracuda!"
Me: "These are my salad tongs."
Him: "That's my barracuda!"
~~~~~
"I watched a beetle with Wyatt and Narayan. But not DJ and Arav and Lily. They were mad."
"They were mad at you? Why?"
"I had a hammer and hit the floor. They were mad. And I said 'No thank you!' to the kids who were mad at daycare."
~~~~~
"No, Daddy, you don't sing."
"Why not?"
"I'm going to sing better songs. You sing silly songs."
~~~~~
Along with many recognizable characters from Seuss, Disney, Henson, and Milne, there are other imaginary creatures my son talks about as if they're real and everyone knows what they are. A partial list: the Backson (from this), the Snatchabook (from this), the Gulper, Grabular, Undersnatch, Spiny-Backed Guzzler, and Saber-Toothed Yumper (all from this), and Santa Claus.

I'm kidding about that last one, of course. He never mentions Santa Claus.
~~~~~
He is looking at a drawing of two chipmunks.
"What are they doing?" he asks.
"They're playing croquet."
"No, they're playing hockey."
"They're playing croquet."
"No, they're playing hockey."
"Basketball?"
"Nooo, they're playing hockey."
"Soccer?"
"Noooo, they're playing hockey."
"Okay, they're playing hockey."
"I think they're playing chess."

We're on a walk, and I've been carrying him for a while. I ask if he'd like to walk some more.
"Are your arms tired, Daddy?"
"Yes, they are."
"That means you have to carry me all the way home."
~~~~~
"I want to eat bulgogi."
"We don't have any. We're having pasta tonight."
"Put it in the bowl, mix it up, it becomes bulgogi."

(Note: He's never tried bulgogi. He's only heard of it thanks to this book.)
~~~~~
"Spider-Man makes webs for other bugs that are good."

(Note: He's never watched any Spider-Man. He's only seen him on clothes. Oh, and on one refrigerator magnet.)
~~~~~
And what would a summary of a 2-year-old's activities be without a mention of poop?

Grandma: "Let's go change your diaper."
Him: "No. I didn't poop."
Grandma: "You stink. If it's not poop in your diaper, what is it?"
Him: "It's..." (pauses to think, then looks down at the furniture he's leaning on) "...stool."

He is so much smarter than he has any right to be.

The Wit and Wisdom of The Professor

The Professor has no idea he's The Professor. No one has ever called him that in real life. He may never have even heard the word. Nevertheless, as his tireless student, I watch and listen, taking notes...

Denise and he are discussing which animals have tails. The last one she asks is...
"Does Daddy have a tail?"
(long pause)
"Probably not."
~~~~~
Denise points to a candy cane and asks what it is.
"A reindeer stalk."
~~~~~
Whenever someone asks, "How are you?" he will inevitably answer: "Two." Then he'll hold up that many fingers.
~~~~~
"Mommy, look what I made in the living room!"
"What did you make?"
"A mess!"

He comes into the kitchen and says, "I want some more milk please."
I also want him to eat some lunch, so I ask, "Would you like some cheese, or an apple?"
He walks over to me, and taps on my leg with each word, for emphasis. "I. Want. Some. More. Milk. Please."

Clearly I have a hearing problem.
~~~~~
Like many parents, we began the ritual of kissing a boo-boo to make it feel better. He did us one better: While running around the living room, he banged his knee against the table. He stopped, bent down to kiss his own knee, then got right back to running.
~~~~~
"Hey guys! Go in the kitchen!" He then takes off for the other side of the house. His 6-year-old cousins look at each other, then get up from what they were doing and follow. Within moments, he's chasing them in circles around the house, laughing his head off.

It's good to be the king.

"I'll be right back."
He'll say this sometimes. He could be going upstairs, or across the yard, or down the sidewalk. I start to follow.
"No, you stay here. I'll be right back."
~~~~~
He's sitting by the front door at his grandma's house. Denise asks what he's doing.
"I'm just sitting here."
~~~~~
While Denise is at Target and I'm home with him, he sees a loose thread in a pillow. So of course, this is his natural thought progression:
"I have to clip this...
I have to clip this at Target...
I have to clip this at Target tomorrow...
I have to go to Target tomorrow."
~~~~~
He'll refer to himself in the third person when using a puppet. For instance, last week I asked what he did at daycare. The alligator on his hand told me, "He drove a police car in the village, and Marty pushed him."

He has wrapped his fork in his napkin.
"My fork doesn't like the cold."
~~~~~
"Let's go upstairs and I'll push Mommy's buttons!"
~~~~~
He has shown little interest in using the potty. Then one day he says what sounds like "Can I use the potty?"
Happy to hear it, I ask, "You want to use the potty?"
"No, you want to use the potty. I'll wait here."

Curses, foiled again.


...by the little man with the chocolate ice cream goatee.

By the way, clicking on any of the above images will fill me with immense joy (and allow you to see the picture larger). And if you're so inclined, you can view all of his latest photos on Flickr.

Eight Crazy Nates

(click to view full-size)

This photo was inspired by a few my cousin created last year. For reference, I also considered calling it "Eight Men Out," "Eight Is (More Than) Enough," or "Hot Damn, Feet Freeze Fast When You're Barefoot in the Snow." (I was barefoot for about two minutes at the end of the shoot, enough for four back-and-forth trips to the camera — three takes, followed by the retrieval of my equipment.)

This is just a hunch, but I suspect it's much easier to do this type of shot indoors, with fixed lighting and non-freezing temperatures. Though of course that way you don't get nearly the same sort of looks from the neighbors.

The final tally:
26 - degrees Fahrenheit (-3.3 degrees Celsius)
10 - hours before all pain subsided from my toes
9 - photographs layered into one
8 - Nates
7 - visible goatees
6 - pairs of pants
5 - hats
4 - shirts
3 - jackets
2 - sweatshirts
1 - pair of shorts
0 - footprints

Not Getting the Full Experience

This is my 300th post (fact). And since I haven't shared anything about my son in over a year (exaggeration) I thought I'd do that now to start the year off right. Not only is he the smartest kid ever to wear diapers (hyperbole) and a half-decent negotiator, but come February he'll be the youngest U.S. Senator in history (outright lie).

He just turned two-and-a-half, loves animals and books and letters and Muppets and is so well-behaved my cousin remarked that as parents we're "not getting the full experience." No, we're not. And it is awesome. Here are a few snippets from recent months:

Conversation at dinner between 2-year-olds (who had spent all day together):
Him: "Hey, you have a robot on your shirt."
His cousin: "I have pizza." (pause) "I have pizza."
~~~~~
Reading an alphabet book to himself:
"J is for juggling. J-U-G-G-L-I-N-G. Juggling.
K is for kite. K-I-T-E. Kite.
L is for drink. L-E-M-O-N-A-D-E. Drink."
~~~~~
At some point he found a 2-foot piece of string. Every once in a while, he'll pick it up, hold it between his hands, and twirl it while jumping non-stop from room to room. As he says, "I'm jumping rope."
~~~~~
Talking into a toy phone:
"Hi, Grampa. Are you too busy? Okay, bye bye."

Our house contains several burrows' worth of stuffed rabbits. One morning, my son dug through a couple dozen of them and found the only non-bunny in the basket — a small stuffed bison — and immediately claimed it as his own. They were inseparable for a week, including at bedtime, so it became the first thing he slept with. The following week he added a lion cub to the mix. The week after that, a dog. Then Cookie Monster. Now his bed also holds a rubber skeleton, a bookmark with clownfish on it, a long-expired glow stick, an alligator puppet with hard rubber teeth, a seal, a small plastic Oscar the Grouch, and a little striped cat from IKEA. Every night and naptime he confirms each item is still there, gathers them all under the blanket, and hugs them tight.

If you ask him, he'll say he loves our cats Penny and Schrödinger. But not our dog, Sonya. Last time he told us this we asked, "Why not? Sonya loves you." The tears started flowing, and he wailed, "I don't want to love Sonya!!!"
~~~~~
He finally knows to say "I don't know," meaning we've reached the end of his Yeah Phase. What was the Yeah Phase? Let me demonstrate:
"Do you know what this is?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, what is it?"
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"Yeah."
~~~~~
He wanted a cookie. We'd told him repeatedly he needed to eat his dinner first. He responded with, "No. Cookie first, then dinner." This went on all meal, and he ate one solitary bite of pasta. After Denise had finished and stepped into the kitchen, he handed me his plate and said, "Here. You eat it. I get a cookie." I tell you, the kid is quick. I didn't learn that gambit till I was six.

I often have his stuffed animals and puppets talk to him. Then one night, with a puppet in his hand, he asked me to read him his book. I pulled out the book with his picture on the cover (and photos of our family inside), but he said, "No, my book." He repeated this over and over, getting more and more agitated, until I finally realized he was speaking as the puppet (who has no mouth) and asking for its book. Namely, Where the Wild Things Are.

Now he regularly talks for his animals/puppets and has conversations with them. He even has a designated puppet voice, lower and more gravelly than his own.¹ And he uses his mittens as puppets.² Or, if he has no puppet or mittens, he simply talks with his hands.

¹ He's Batman.
² Lately, his left mitten is a shark, his right one a train. Because of this.

~~~~~

Well, that's my son. Click on any of the above photos to see them larger. Or, if you're inclined, you can view all of his latest photos on Flickr.

The Land of Abandoned Books

I've been feeling rather listless of late, so I thought I'd make a list.

Prior to my 20s, only once had I chosen to read a book and cast it aside before finishing it. But the older I get, the more I realize how little free time I have and how many things I still want to read. If the book doesn't grab me, I stop grabbing it.

Along with the increasing number of eBooks and book sale purchases I'm now putting aside as I really embrace this philosophy, here are my most notable abandonments, in chronological order. Some might surprise you.

1. The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkein
   I was 14 or 15. I'd just finished The Hobbit. And then, calling my geekdom completely into question, I gave up on this tome about 40 pages in.
    
2. Crime & Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
   'Twas May of my senior year of high school, and I didn't have to write a paper on it. Nevertheless, I stuck it out for 4/5 of the book, more than most of the class.
    
3. Star Maker, Olaf Stephenson
   The first assigned reading in my freshman-year sci-fi class. Again, no paper was required. Found it so dull I forgot the title. This might not even be the right book.
    
4. Quicksilver, Neal Stephenson
   I loved his three previous works. Cryptonomicon was just as dense, and longer, yet fantastic. But I couldn't get into this. Made it 30 pages in 6 weeks. And done.
    
5. Wish I Could Be There: Notes from a Phobic Life, Allen Shawn
   I had high hopes. Written by the brother of Wallace Shawn, and son of NY Times editor William Shawn. Surely he'd share some amazing stories, right? Wrong.
    
6. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster & Jules Feiffer
   Loved it as a kid. Tried re-reading as an adult and the magic was gone. Just like with M.C. Hammer and The Neverending Story (the film). You can't go back.
    
7. The Drawing of the Three, Stephen King
   Book two of the Dark Tower series. Barely made it through book one. Yet I've truly enjoyed the other half-dozen King works I've read. Go figure.
    
8. Watchman, Ian Rankin
   Not to be confused with the Alan Moore graphic novel. All of Rankin's other mysteries have hooked me, but this was his first, re-issued. Just not the same.
    
9. Anathem, Neal Stephenson
   Furthest I've ever read before giving up (350 pages). Really liked some scenes, but had no interest in anything going on. Another 600 pages to go? Screw that.
    
10. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz
    Yep, the Pulitzer prize winner. At times very witty and interesting. More often, Dominican slang and phrases hurled without context. Latter overrules former.

Of course, it goes the other way as well. I've finished some books I really shouldn't have. The Chronicles of Narnia sucked the life out of me, and I should have quit after two. I stuck through all seven out of sheer stubbornness.

I nearly lost it reading Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol (my scathing review), strained to get through The Strain by Guillermo del Toro & Chuck Hogan (scathing review #2), and was blind as to why Jose Saramago's Blindness won the Nobel Prize. Yet I finished each one. And let me tell you, I was lucky to survive. Because whenever I came across something done poorly — and oh, there was plenty — I mentioned it to my wife. Each time, after two or three such remarks, Denise was ready to kill me. I must say she showed phenomenal restraint.

So if you ever find me bludgeoned to death with a book of dubious quality lying nearby, you know what happened. I didn't shut the book, and I didn't shut my mouth.

How about you? What's the most surprising (or acclaimed) book you've ever cast aside?

I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, and Doggone It, That's Not Entirely Accurate

There are a handful of improv groups in central CT. Last week, I auditioned with one for which I felt I might be a good fit. After a couple minor hiccups early on, I thought I did quite well, certainly well enough to guarantee a callback.

I was wrong.

This is becoming somewhat of a theme for me. Apparently, I came across as nervous, undecided, and occasionally frustrated, although I was none of these things.¹ Clearly, there's some disconnect between what I think I'm doing and what I'm actually doing.

I was under the impression I'd gotten pretty good at improv — at least on par with my fellow improvisers who keep getting snatched up for spots in established groups — but if I've learned anything over the past few months, it's this:

I'm not good at improv.

That's not to say I'm bad at it. I've been in some great scenes, and gotten plenty of laughs. But whereas a few days ago I'd have said I was pretty good, this latest setback (in a series of many) has finally made the truth sink in: I'm mediocre at best. It's become abundantly clear I'm not fit for any improv troupe.²

It's okay, though; I've already come to terms with this. In fact, I think it might be for the best. In their rejection, the group said I showed potential and should keep at it. And I will, since I enjoy it. But this rejection may be just the impetus I need to shift most of my focus back to something I know I'm good at: writing.

Then again, if I was so far off regarding my improv abilities, I might be deluding myself about my writing, too. After all, I've really only shared my fiction with friends and family, and it's not like they're going to say it sucks.³ The novel I'm writing might be utter tripe. I have no idea.

And that got me thinking. I soon realized I'm probably not as good as I think I am at a slew of things. In fact, I've put together a list:

• Improv
• Novel-writing
• Web design (yep — my day job)
• Volleyball
• Imitating accents, eh?
• Hostage negotiation
• Self doubt
• Making lists

Luckily, there are still a few things at which I'm exactly as good as I think I am:

• Being a dad
• Husbandry Being a husband
• Scrabble
• Photoshoppery
• Juggling knives
• Humorous footnotes⁴

Of course, I won't know if I'm actually bad at novel-writing until people read my novel. And I won't actually let people read my novel until I've finished the thing. So, I'd better stop lolly-gagging around here and get back to the word mines.⁵

Wish me luck!


¹ Except for one brief bout of indecision during the first warm-up exercise, when my brain wasn't yet firing on all cylinders. (Actually, my brain never fires on all cylinders; I always leave one cylinder alive to spread the word of Nate, the Geometrical Killer.)
² Well, unless they're Damn Fools.
³ Sure, a few in the local writing group gave negative feedback, but I'd already learned not to trust their opinions.
⁴ As opposed to humerus footnotes, which I'm no longer allowed to do, ever since they discovered my medical credentials were courtesy of Milton Bradley.
⁵ Stepping on one of these causes a literal explosion.

The Pleas of the Costumeless

When kids come to my door on Halloween, their eyes wide and hands shaking in search of their next sugar fix, I require only two things:

1. They must say "Trick or treat!" ¹
2. If they're not wearing a costume, they must tell me what they're supposed to be.

After all, being lazy is one thing. But lazy and uncreative I can't abide. And I'm strict when it comes to giving out the goods;² no sweets in the bag until both conditions are met.

With 130+ trick-or-treaters, we saw our share of the unadorned among the shambling hordes. Of course, some of these were also lazy in their creativity. They claimed to be:

• an athlete
• a basketball player
• a hobo
• a rapper
• I don't know

Others, however, managed to make me chuckle:

• a flyboy (complete with an appropriate flyboy pose)
• a citizen
• a realistic person who goes to school³
• just a kid looking for candy

Next year, I think I might institute a tiered system for my candy dispersal. Costumed children will get the best (or the most) candy. Uncostumed but inventive kids receive the lesser brands (or amounts). Those lazy in both action and mind get the stale leftovers from this year.

Alright, kids, you've got a year to come up with your stories. Wow me. Otherwise, you're stuck with year-old Bazooka Joe.


¹ I'll waive this rule if they open with a more amusing alternative. For instance, the girl who groaned "BRAAAAAAINS!" and the group singing adapted Christmas carols ("Good tidings we bring, for sugary things...") got a pass. And some oh so delicious candy.
² And the plentys.
³ This was the same kid who first said "I don't know." He then took ten seconds to come up with his answer. I restrained myself from humming the Jeopardy theme.

Writing Advice for the Easily Distracted

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but some poor, misguided spambot (Updated, 1/25: turns out it wasn't a bot at all; my apologies, Brittany) has nominated me for a Top Writing Blog Award at eCollegeFinder. I don't have all the details yet, but I thought I'd serve up some actual writing advice before they start the selection process. You know, so it looks like I know what I'm doing.

We live in a short-attention span society, so I won't bore you by droning on and on about my tips and techniques and proper grammar. I can bore you just as easily by condensing my advice into bite-sized nuggets:

1. I can tell you how to finish your book in one word: time management.¹
    
2. Don't use amateurnouns. Your readers will notice.
    
3. After spicing up your novel a bit by mixing in metaphors, set it aside for a while so the plot may thicken.
    
4. Omit words.²
    
5. When writing non-fiction, be vicious with your punctuation:
   
   • Cut long passages down to size by using bullets.
   • To get rid of extraneous content, drop it with a dagger.†
   • In order to fit a bunch of people into a smaller space, slash them repeatedly.
     (e.g. Axl/Izzy/Duff/Steven)
    
6. To ensure your prose is flawless, always use the perfect tense.
    
7. No matter how wonderful a passage or phrase sounds, it's worthless if it doesn't advance the story. As Sir Arthur Quiller-Coach said, "Murder your Darlings. Especially if you're J.M. Barrie, because then you have a Peter Pan Murder Mystery on your hands."
    
8. Writers, take proper care of your colons: Otherwise, all that follows will be a painful mess.
    
9. Even if you do your writing on a computer, you need your BIC PEN. (Butt In Chair, Persistently Evading the 'Net)
    
10. Use short sentences for action scenes. It moves the narrative along.
    Use long sentences for flowery prose, 20-page research papers, lists of moderate to great length, and convicted murderers.
     
11. Sentence fragments. Useful in moderation. Really.
     
12. And I'll end with a few examples of properly used punctuation:
    
    • Why would you ask me? (Question Mark)
    • She won't say why she's so moody. (Period)
    • Don't interrupt me. Anyway, I've got to— (Dash)

That'll do it for now. And remember: Writing is a journey. Don't stop believing.


¹ And as that statement proves, reading and writing are essential to your success, but arithmetic is not.
² The original advice from Strunk and White's Elements of Style was "Omit needless words." I thought needless unnecessary.
† What did I tell you? This content isn't useful at all.