matthearn.com

The weekend was full and overstuffed. On Saturday, Charles and I spent all morning doing yard work in a vain effort to tire him out so he’d have an early nap. We dug, and mulched (“melched,” as Charles puts it), and trimmed, and planted. The “early nap” plan was an utter failure, of course; he went down at 10:30, talked to himself until noon, and finally get maybe an hour’s sleep before we woke him to go to a party.

Luckily, sleep or not, homeboy is always up for a party. We met a bunch of our musical theatre friends at one of their homes, out in West Chester, where we got our barbecue on and watched as the Flyers gained and lost a three-goal lead in a deciding playoff game. There was much anger, which was calmed by drinking large amounts of Canadian beer.

On Sunday we were able to sleep in a tiny bit, then got some breakfast at Bob Evan’s, followed by a trip to Sarah’s old church for the baptism of children belong to some old high school friends. I spent the afternoon mowing the lawn in temperatures approaching 90 degrees, and then sitting around drinking water so that I could stop looking like a dessicated husk. (Is it just me, or are temperatures in all seasons getting a little crazy? It’s not unheard-of to have 90 degree days in April, of course, but it seems like year after year we got a bunch of really hot summer days, a bunch of really hot winter days, but we also get some oddly chilly days in early August, and of course last winter there were at least five separate days when I had to chisel frozen saliva from my lips just by walking from my car to the office. That was a really long sentence, which will stay in place because I have no editor. Huzzah!)

After making the lawn look reasonably tame, we went to the in-laws’ for the brother-in-law’s birthday, at which I ate so much chicken-fried steak that I couldn’t effectively breathe for the rest of the day. I tried to stuff some birthday cake in there but it wasn’t happening. I went to bed 4 hours later in a semi-coma, still thinking there was no way I’d ever eat food again.

Turns out I was wrong, which happens sometimes.

My day so far: Charles woke us at 6:15 by falling out of bed and initiating Maximum Tears. Then on the way north I got the bird flipped at me by some dumb broad from New Jersey who was in the left lane holding up traffic all the way through the city. So let’s star the day off with a dose of awesome:

Meat Cards

Business cards made of beef jerky, embossed by laser. Salient quote:

MEAT CARDS do not fit in a Rolodex, because their deliciousness CANNOT BE CONTAINED in a Rolodex.

I know what you’re asking: do they have Twitter? of course they do.

It’s like playing 20 questions, if the questioner is outrageously stupid. Stolen from Chris Turner via Facebük.

1. First thing you wash in the shower? My face, in a (so far) almost complete and utter failure to try and keep my skin clear.


2. What color is your favorite hoodie? Rojo.


3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? In case my wife reads this: yes.


4. Do you plan outfits? Only if I’m getting really dressed up for something. Most days I just get up and put on pants, and then find a matching shirt.


5. How are you feeling RIGHT now? Tired, but looking forward to facing the weekend.


6. Whats the closest thing to you that’s red? A small heart on my shirt, which reads “i [heart] hot moms”


7. Tell me about the last dream you remember having? I had a dream about Rachel Maddow the other day.


8. Did you meet anybody new today? A little boy, named Curtis, who is in Charles’s preschool class.


9. What are you craving right now? A beer.


10. Do you floss? No. I know I should, but I hate tooth maintenance. I wouldn’t brush my teeth if my breath didn’t smell of elderberries; I hate the lingering taste of mint. It throws off all my meals. And I love meals.


11. What comes to mind when I say cabbage? Charles Babbage.


12. Are you emotional? I think the survey would say X.


13. Have you ever counted to 1,000? While I do believe I have a mild case of Asperger’s Syndrome, I haven’t quite gone that far.


14. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? I lick it, but keep in mind my tongue is large and can slurp off a lot of frozen dessert in one lick.


15. Do you like your hair? I like the color, but it’s too fine to do anything with.


16. Do you like yourself? Mostly. I wish I wasn’t so lazy.


17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush? Let’s put it this way: I never like being the smartest person in a conversation because I can’t learn anything. I think a conversation with the former President would make me feel so superior I might start funding eugenics research.


18. What are you listening to right now? Thomas the Tank Engine, being played on the TV while no one pays attention, but of course if it were to be turned to the Phillies game there would be wailing and gnashing of teeth.


19. Are your parents strict? Not particularly. I never really had much interest in stretching the boundaries; I was quite the boring fellow.


20. Would you go sky diving? Sure, if someone else paid. It’s just another expensive pursuit, I can’t afford the hobbies I already have.


21. Do you like cottage cheese? No, it’s like eating cold bone marrow.


22. Have you ever met a celebrity? A few U.S. Senators and other politicians, that’s about it.


23. Do you rent movies often? I almost never have 2 hours to sit and watch anything, so no. About once a month, I’d say.


24. Is there anything sparkly in the room you’re in? My wife’s bracelets.


25. How many countries have you visited? 8, I think; St. Kitts-Nevis, Iceland, Norway, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, France (for a quick afternoon), and the UK.


26. Have you made a prank phone call? Nah. Seems like juvenile humor to me, and while I am a connoisseur of the tasteless joke, prank calling involves picking on random people for no good reason. This is also why I skip the portions of “Jackass” where they’re just being rude to people or taking dumps in toilets displayed at hardware stores. I’m more amused by them injuring themselves.


27. Ever been on a train? Road the Strasburg Railroad a few times, and last summer took a train home from Manhattan.


28. Brown or white eggs? We buy white, but I don’t really care. My grandmother used to cook the brown ones, they taste the same.


29. Do you have a cell-phone? Yes.


30. Do you use chap stick? Only once my lips are too far gone to be saved.


31. Do you own a gun? A couple airguns, but sadly most of my income is spoken for by electronics.


32. Can you use chop sticks? Being a yuppie WASP, of course.


33. Who are you going to be with tonight? A bunch of theater friends! Who has two thumbs and is excited? Moi.


34. Are you too forgiving? Depends. To their face, I let people get away with stuff. But then I hold a grudge and talk about them behind their back. I’m like a 13-year-old girl, down to my bizarre fixation with Miley Cyrus.


35. Ever been in love? Constantly.


36. What is your best friend(s) doing tomorrow? We’ll be going to dinner at her parents’ for her brother’s birthday.


37. Ever have cream puffs? Yeah. Made ’em myself! They were…so…awesome.


38. Last time you cried? Probably earlier this week, watching the Harry Kalas memorial service I’d taped.


39. What was the last question you asked? I do not remember.


40. Favorite time of the year? Whichever time is coming up. In winter, I want spring. Spring: summer. I’m never happy with what I’ve got.


41. Do you have any tattoos? I plead the fifth.


42. Are you sarcastic? <SARCASM>No, not at all.&lt/SARCASM>


43. Have you ever seen The Butterfly Effect? I saw a few minutes of it and threw up in my mouth.


44. Ever walked into a wall? My torso is something like 3 feet wide. Doorframes are not made with me in mind. I constantly bang my shoulders into them. I’ve been known to knock the frame out of plumb.


45. Favorite color? Blue.


46. Have you ever slapped someone? I’ve spanked my son a few times, and instantly regretted it each time.


47. Is your hair curly? Hell no.


48. What was the last CD you bought? I downloaded Jim Gaffigan’s latest effort yesterday evening. Actual disk? Jeez…I think it was a Celine Dion album for the wife.


49. Do looks matter? Of course. I look fabulous!


50. Could you ever forgive a cheater? Depends on the particular action.


51. Is your phone bill sky high? Yes, only because iPhone bills ain’t cheap. But if this supposed to mean “Do you talk on the phone a lot?” the answer would be oh hells no. I hate talking on the phone. That is why the Good Lord Sweet Crying Baby Jesus invented texting, email, and Twitter.


52. Do you like your life right now? Reasonably so. I’d like to be further advanced in my artistic endeavors, but one does what one can.


53. Do you sleep with the TV on? Only if I fall asleep watching baseball.


54. Can you handle the truth? I believe I’m entitled to the truth.


55. Do you have good vision? Very good, actually, which is annoying because in most other ways my body is very defective. I have something like 20/10 vision, but of course my hand-eye coordination is abysmal so I can’t, say, hit a fastball.


56. Do you hate or dislike more than 3 people? Probably, but I try not to dwell on it until they bug me.


57. How often do you talk on the phone? Maybe once a day.


58. The last person you held hands with? Charles, walking across the parking lot from Home Depot.


59. What are you wearing? Camouflage shorts (in case someone tries to hunt me), tan-ish tshirt, brand-ass new New Balance kicks.


60. What is your favorite animal? Anything feline. Large rodents are a close second.


61. Where was your default picture taken? Since this came from Facebook, you can’t see it unless you are my frien’, so check it. We were at a picnic at Breck’s Lane.


62. Can you hula hoop? For approximately .08 seconds.


63. Do you have a job? Yes; I work for AIG 21st Century Farmer’s Insurance.


64. What was the most recent thing you bought? The aforementioned kicks.


65. Have you ever crawled through a window? Sure. Cars, homes, morgues, you name it.

Wow. That’s it? Okay.

• If you have a pair of dress pants with elastic in the waist, you probably have considered eating Cheetos for breakfast.


• If you have a bumper sticker that says “Pay no attention to my car, my treasure is stored in Heaven,” you probably believe in horoscopes.


• If you think Golden Corral is haute cuisine, you probably collect Mickey Mouse memorabilia.


• If your car’s rear windshield has a decal memorializing a dead relative, your career prospects probably top out at “Manager of Payless Shoes.” Also, one of your many children is probably going to spend some time in prison.


• If you watch TMZ, you probably think an omelet and a frittata are the same thing. In your defense, 98% of the people making “omelets” at supposedly high-class brunch buffets think the same.


• If you name your daughter Madysin, she is probably not going to be appointed a Federal Circuit Court Judge. There’s an outside chance, though, that she might be named to the cabinet of a particularly horrid U.S. President.


• If you once Didn’t Know You Were Pregnant, you probably shave your chin more frequently than the average person of your gender.


• If you are a huge Neil Sedaka fan, you probably buy all your brassieres at CostCo.


• If you are reading this, you are probably either a relative of mine, or have seen me take my pants off at a social event. Or both.

To be continued…

In Lancaster, California, Honda decided it would be fun to carve grooves in a road such that when you drive over them, the vibration of your suspension plays a song. They decided, for unknown reasons, to use the William Tell Overture, by Giaochino “Joey Chinos” Rossini. In case you haven’t watched the Lone Ranger recently, listen to this.

Then, go watch and listen to this.

Notice anything? Am I the only one? They spent heaven knows how many man-hours gouging grooves into that road and did it to produce the wrong fricking notes. This commercial gets played at least once every time I watch a Daily Show online and it makes me insane.

Just so you know.

One of the side effects of the amoxicillin that’s clearing up Charles’s ear infections is that it tends to give him diahrrea, which if he doesn’t tell us about, sits in his diaper until we do a regularly scheduled change. This gives him devastating diaper rash, and is unfortunately a vicious cycle: because it hurts when we wipe him clean, he is resistant to diaper changes, which means he sits in feces that blister his taint until we finally have to hold him down and get it cleaned up.

As you can imagine, nothing about this is pleasant for anyone. It is how our week has been. Welcome to Friday!

I feel guilty for laughing at these things, but cannot help myself:

• Andrew Sullivan shows us how the Catholic Church feels about its youth.


• This young lady loves her some John Mayer. (For which I do not fault her; he’s like a tattoo’d god.)


• A new iPhone app that everybody would want, if Apple hadn’t immediately taken it out of the App Store.


• Penny Arcade brings us a special new Rock Band.

Andrew Sullivan, Keith Olbermann, and Rachel Maddow all took Karl Rove to task for this stupidity. I might as well join in! Let’s break it down like En Vogue:

What the Obama administration’s done in the last several days is very dangerous.
What they’ve essentially said is, if we have policy disagreements with our predecessors,
what we’re going to do is, we’re going to turn ourselves into the moral equivalent of a Latin American country run by colonels in mirrored sunglasses . . .

Hey Karl, you know what else is popular among South American dictators? Torture. They LOVE the stuff.

. . . and what we’re gonna do, is prosecute, systematically, the previous administration, or threaten prosecutions against the previous administration, based on policy differences.

Policy differences? Really? Not, you know, criminal acts?

Is that what we’ve come to in this country? That if we have a change of administration from one party to another, that we then use the tools of the government to go systematically after the policy disagreements with-that we have with the previous administration? Now that may be fine in some little Latin American country that’s run by, you know, the latest junta. It may be the way that they do things in Chicago. But that’s not the way we do things here in America.

You know what, Karl? Your mom’s a junta. (I should probably look that word up.)

Ignoring for the moment that I think Chicago is technically located within the borders of the United States, Mr. Rove apparently thinks that the matter of torture, which is against federal law and various international treaties, is merely a “policy disagreement,” like arguments over tax rates or deficit spending.

Hey Karl: shut the hell up. You’re a buffoon. What we’re talking about are crimes. Crimes that hopefully will be prosecuted by the Department of Justice. Shepard Smith put it best (warning: uncensored F-bomb, if that bothers you).

It’s all Gerald Ford’s fault, I think. When he infamously pardoned Richard Nixon, he set a dangerous precedent that a Presidential administration should not pass judgment on the crimes of a previous one. Which is fine, if we were some kind of banana republic in which every new dictator spends the first week slaughtering everyone associated with the last one. I can’t remember any incoming President immediately telling the Department of Justice to go after the last guy because he didn’t like him. What would the benefit be? It’s not as if last guy is going to come back. The time of Grover Cleveland is gone, people.

By “closing the book” on the Watergate scandal, President Ford gave credence to President Nixon’s idea that when the President does something, it’s not illegal. Since we didn’t punish Nixon, now we can’t punish anyone, seems to be the feeling.

My ass. Mr. Holder, the only way to prevent these kind of crimes from happening again are to ensure that everyone knows they’ll be punished for it. As much as I hate the idea of “setting an example,” anyone who authorized or ordered torture tactics needs to be prosecuted and jailed. Go get ’em.

I do have to admit, however, that my judgment may be clouded by the fact that I’m giddy over the possibility that Dick Cheney might end up with a prison tattoo saying “If u reed dis, bubba kill u.”

Here’s a snap from Tuesday’s ball game, described here.

I’ve been trying to find fun stuff to do with Charles before The Baby comes and takes us out of the power play and into man-to-man coverage. Earlier in the month we went to the zoo (always a favorite for me; I love a good capybara). Yesterday, I discovered that as a result of Monday evening’s rainout, the Wilmington Blue Rocks were going to play a twi-night doubleheader, with the first game starting at 5:05. I figured we’d get there late, stay to the end of the first game, and then sneak out before the rains started.

I picked up Charles at the usual time and asked him if he wanted to go to a baseball game, and he was SUPER-excited. (One great thing about children is that they cannot hide enthusiasm: they actually say things like “Yay!” and “Wow!” completely unironically.) So we got in the car and headed down to Frawley Stadium. Charles, being under the age of 4, required no ticket, so I bought a general admission ticket for $6. We went inside and were each given a free Rocky Bluewinkle hat, after which Charles got to meet the moose himself and shake hands. Then we went and found a little bench just outside the reserved seating area to watch a few at-bats.

Next to us, a stadium usher was chatting with an EMT (of which there were several around; I wasn’t sure if the Blue Rocks’ fans had a particular problem with coronary thromboses, or what; I can report that most of the fans, myself included, are well into the “obese” area of BMI measurement), discussing what idiots the fans were for thinking that they could move out of the General Admission seating into the almost utterly empty “Reserved” area. Anyone that tried was summarily dismissed to the bleacher seats. By the end of the game, there were hundreds of people crowded into “GA,” and literally tens of fans in reserved seating. Supposedly they would be permitted to upgrade their seating for the second game, but c’mon, Blue Rocks management. That’s kind of a silly policy on a Tuesday evening with threatening skies.

We watched a few at-bats, and I tried to explain to Charles what the fielding positions were; he grasped “pitcher” and “catcher” because, well, they pitch and catch, respectively. We got to see one Salem player knock one out of the yard, and I thought of Harry Kalas. Charles’s attention span being what it is, we had to find something to do after a bit, and got some chicken fingers and fries. Again, his attention span failed us as I got him to eat approximately 6 fries and no chicken before he spotted what he called a “trampoline,” but was in fact a small moon bounce. I insisted we eat some dinner, but he was too amp’d up. I finished off the chicken and threw most of the fries away (in our defense, the fries appeared to have been cooked during the last Democratic presidential administration) and wandered over to the moon bounce, where I was charged $2 for the privilege of watching my son bound around with wild abandon.

Once I finally convinced him to take a break, we headed up into the General Admission area, to the top row, where he watched baseball for about 30 seconds and then spent 10 minutes watching trucks go by on I-95. After a time, he decided he needed some popcorn, so we went off to retrieve that, and then returned to the bleachers to watch some more. By then it was close to 7pm, and Charles was entering a loopy state wherein he would say deliberately unintelligible things and then giggle uncontrollably, so I realized it was getting to be time to go. We shuffled out of there back to the car and were home and watching Thomas do his Tank Engine Thang by 7:30.

The Blue Rocks won, 8-3.