Let's Roll! 1.09

I've got two or three articles in the works that I have not been able to finish-up or publish, for one reason or another this week, including my Designs We Like blog exchange review that was supposed to go out the third Wednesday of the month. 

That's, probably, the biggest challenge in being a Mac user in a PC-Internet-sales-world. There are some really cool applications-- such as this one-- that are not fully-functioning on this platform. In this case I trade-off the ability to paste text from another source in order to be able to key-command bullets. (See ••••?) I would much rather be allowed to paste because then I would be able to copy and drop-in the blog exchange information and get that posted so they don't throw me out of the group. I promise, guys, that I will do it as soon as I can get access to a PC!

In the mean time I have, again, run across some pretty cool stuff in the past week so... Let's Roll...

Eight Guinness World Record Attempts That Failed (Hilariously)

I usually try to avoid listing another blog in this one-- especially if I don't know the author-- because there are just too many sickos out there. This one, however, I couldn't pass up. It features people trying to break eight world records and have their name recorded in the famous Guinness Book. Most of them are your typical half-wits who forget to check what the record was, if someone else had broken it recently or how to do some dangerous stunt like fire-walking, before attempting the feat. Then there is the group trying to break the world domino toppling record and killed an endangered bird that flew into the building before it knocked everything down only to be invaded by animal rights protesters aiming to sabotage the effort. 

Nothing, though, beats the guy trying break coconuts with his bare hands! I have watched this video several times and it only raises more questions each time. Is this some kind of ninja stunt because it looks like he is wearing martial arts gear and a black belt? Had he ever tried to break a coconut with his bear hands before? Does he break any with his karate chops? Did he just miss those coconuts, altogether? And most strange to me, why does he move on to the next one if he doesn't get the first one? Does he think his miss wasn't caught on film?

I don't get this guy but, even though it is in another language, you don't need sub-titles to tell the reporter is thinking, "This guy's a tool!" If you don't do anything else with this article, check out this video and tell me what you think is going through this dude's head besides... oww!... oww!... ouch!... boy that hurts!... oww!...

NORAD Tracks Santa

The kid's know more about the Internet and the computer than the adults anyway so they probably already know about this one. NORAD has been tracking Santa for many years now because they are pretty bored since the end of the Cold War. There is a countdown clock for the big day, an activity page for the kids and this year, starting on Christmas Eve, you can use Google Maps to track Santa in 3-D! I don't know what, exactly, that is but anything to occupy M3S until he is worn out enough to crash is good for me.

NorthPole.com

Built for the little ones but there are plenty of tools here for Mom and Dad too. Visit Santa's Secret Village to read stories, play games and activities, cook-up a Christmas treat or even check out the weather at the North Pole. In the Mailroom you can write to Santa or send e-cards to friends and family and in the Workshop you will be able to search special toy collections and find online resources. Maybe too late for this year but you can bookmark the page for '09.

SantaClaus.net

Similar to the previous site, this one one has a much slicker graphic interface but that may be contributing to the lag I was experiencing. It has a lot of the same games, songs and activities, a Santa Tracker of it's own and, as it looks, the real North Pole weather forecast but this has an option for a telephone call from Santa, as well as the letter. I am a little unsure who sponsors either Website, but this one interrupts some of the activities and such with ads and the other one asks for donations so I'm sure the Claus clan is not behind either.

SkeetzTeez

Hey-- it might be a little late for this year-- but remember there are specials on last-minute, express shipping and you can always give gifts after Christmas-- SkeetzTeez has the coolest, pop-culture T-shirts and gifts you can find just about anywhere!

I better say Merry Christmas now in case I don't get a chance to write again in the next six-days... Merry Christmas. Read this. Buy T-shirts. Peace.

SkeetzTeez Holiday Special

I took a day of vacation on Monday to accompany MLW to her doctor appointment. I am in awe each time we have an ultrasound done. Just to see that little baby inside Mama's tummy is amazing! Not to get into this discussion right now but, the whole miracle of life thing is so... delicate, so precise and perfect, that I don't see how anyone can say that it is all just a freak accident, or nature taking it's course with evolution of the species and stuff. 

Anyway...

It's also amazing how you take one day off work and there is three days worth of work for you when you come back. I will have to post the Top Ten Amazing Things That I Don't Understand but Can Always Count On sometime after the holidays. I have been working on a few articles including a follow-up to last week's The Twelve Days of Christmas Specials, The Twelve Days of Christmas Songs, but haven't had the time to make them presentable. In addition, we are in the peak of the Shopping Season and I haven't done a lot to push my cafepress shop, SkeetzTeez, lately so I thought I would do a little update.

Sales have been much like other shopkeepers told me to expect and, to my delight and surprise, the hot items this month have been the cool designs that I thought would do well, but have not up to this point. Although the Big Brother and Big Sister kid's stuff is still going along at the same pace, their numbers have been dwarfed by other merchandise imprinted with other designs. 

Suck It Trebeck, Smallville Athletics Department and the Schweddy Balls art is flying off the shelves. It is not only T-shirts that are selling, either, as sweatshirts and hoodies are especially popular this time of year and the shop has also sold a BBQ apron and a notebook journal. The thing that is really cool though is I think I have sold at least one of every design except for Schmidts and I kind of thought that I might have a problem with that one.

Even obscure concepts like Airplane, MXC, Bunch of Carp, Man on First, Ta-Daaaaaa and All You Need is Love have sold, as well as the first shirt from my Old Time Sports Collection and a I Survived a Major Brain Injury and All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt, of all things! In addition, the Charlestown Chiefs, Shermer High School, Land of the Lost, and several of the maternity ware are still moving and even a few of the newest addition, Cotton-headed Ninny-Muggins, from my favorite new Christmas Classic, Elf, starring Will Ferrell have been purchased.

All-in-all, I can't complain a bit on how, what started as an experiment and turned into a part-time job, has turned out. I mean-- I can always wish for more sales but, I think that will come with time. Already I have seen an increase in volume every month and, even more importantly, I have seen a larger percentage of sales coming directly from the shop instead of through the marketplace, as of late. In the first ten-days of December, I have already had more sales than in all of November, and about 20% of those have made the purchase through the shop-- which will lead to a bonus for me at the end of the month.

Another benefit to the increased exposure to SkeetzTeez is more exposure for my other projects including this blog and my Squidoo Lenses. This has become increasingly important to me as I have developed a lens to spread the word about my campaign to inform people about the risks of stroke from chiropractic treatment. 

Which, by the way, will not cost you a dime to contribute to this cause! If you would like to help me, please visit the sight. If you like it you can help further by linking and bookmarking to it and visiting frequently, favoriting it, giving it a high rating, leaving a comment on the message board and forwarding it to friends and asking them to do the same. You can go one more step by building your own lens for a cause that is important to you. (All the proceeds from my lens go to the Stroke Network and, yes-- even regular visits will contribute a small amount to the charity.) I know it is a lot to ask but it would really be appreciated! Do it on Friday... nobody really works on Friday afternoon.

Alright-- this was a really boring post, but it is something. I will try to do better later in the week. In the mean time... Read This. (The reason I started the campaign I talked about.) Buy T-shirts. (There are only a few more internet shopping days left until Christmas.) Peace.

Designs We Like 1.02

This month's Designs We Like: Crossover Blog features at ease tees, a cafepress shop infused with a uplifting Christian message.

There is something special about the innocence and openness of a child. As little time as three-years ago I would've had a different attitude about it but, since being so close to M3S while he has been growing up, it seems that every day I'm filled with amazement at something he does.

I was drawn to this month's Designs We Like entry not because of it's superior artistic techniques or a witty saying, but by the simplicity of how a young lady graphically interprets God's word. This "Hearts Belong" design features eight colorful heart-shaped balloons floating along above the text, "Let your hearts belong to Jesus"-- a reminder that, as Christians, we should reflect Christ in our hearts and live our lives in accordance with the truth of the scriptures. When we are saved, we belong to Christ, and are His.

Though it is obvious that the artwork was done by a child, it is a very talented child with a design sense way beyond her years, making this a great design that is appropriate for individuals of any age. The design is available for imprint on a variety of Men's, Women's and Children's apparel and gift items including T-shirts, outerwear, caps, buttons, bags, mugs and even a little teddy bear. In addition, there is a fine selection of printed materials like greeting cards, calendars and posters that would make for a unique, custom gift for loved ones.

There are also other designs from the same artist in this collection called "Boog's Corner" at the family-friendly cafepress shop, at ease tees, where the father of the talented nine-year old has a large selection of Christian inspired designs ready to be imprinted on over 100 items. With shop sections such as Joyful Noise, Arrows, Vision, Truth and Gospel Magic, you are sure to find something for everyone on your gift list.

This blog post is a part of a crossover blog. Other participants in this crossover blog are:
http://ateasetees.wordpress.com/ http://www.blogbydonna.com/
http://mindinfestation.blogspot.com http://getyergoat-goatgifts.blogspot.com http://shagtees.blogspot.com http://www.nanwrightart.com
http://randomshirts.blogspot.com/ http://skeetzteez.blogspot.com/
http://idesignbrian.wordpress.com/ http://www.shopkeeperdesigns.com

Man on First...

We went to a graduation party in the Summer so, naturally, there were a lot of teenagers there. I'm not the type to sit around and make conversation with people I don't know very well so I grabbed a Wiffle ball and bat and asked my Dad if he thought we could get a game started.

I should have known what we were in for from the condition of the equipment-- still in it's original packaging-- not a scratch on it. Wiffle balls are best used after they have been well broken-in for a season or so. They are made from a space-age polymer that resists cracking even after hundreds of long balls. Incredibly enough, I have seen more shattered storm windows from well hit Wiffle balls than broken Wiffle balls under normal use.

After a few minutes of "sidewalk scuffing" (a proven technique of rubbing the ball on a rough surface, such a concrete, to speed up the aging process) my Dad and I were playing a leisurely game of catch. It didn't take long for us to collect a few spectators, as the only type of people that like making conversation with people they don't know very well more than me, is teenage boys. It didn't take very long for us to have enough people to start a game either because teenage boys find it hard to turn down a challenge-- especially from a guy old enough to be their father and his father.

Two things became, painfully, obvious shortly after the game started. One, they had never played by these rules before. Though we explained all of the rules prior to the first pitch, we had to stop several times to go over them again. It really is very simple: you swing and the catcher catches the ball-- your out; foul tip is an out; a caught fly ball is an out; over that sidewalk on the fly is a home run; any other fair ball is a single. No... you don't run the bases. No... there are no walks (or even balls), doubles or triples.

Now these are not the official rules of Wiffleball. These are the rules I learned from my Dad and he learned from the street when he was a kid in the late 40s and 50s. They are, probably, closer to stick ball rules as that's what they played before the Wiffle ball was invented and easily accessible to everyone. These were our rules when we played in our yard or anywhere else that we had numbers on everyone else.

We ran into many different rules growing up. Many were regional, by neighborhood, but even then, there were sometimes different variations of the game played on the same street. Some gave you three strikes or didn't require the catcher to catch them; some didn't count the foul ball as an out or counted a cleanly caught ground ball as an out. I've seen games played that they try to keep track of balls and strikes and Cox's group used to play with a trash can behind the plate-- if you hit it with the pitch, it's a strike... nonsense!

The Official Wiffleball Website, has the official rules and there are sanctioned leagues out there now that play by there own sets. All-in-all there are some differences, but the one thing all of the rules have in common is... no base running. That is why the phrase "Man on First" was first uttered and why it is one of the most common memories of a man's childhood. 

One of the best things about Wiffleball is that it can be played with as few people as two or three. The game was also developed to be easily played in backyards, side lots, city streets and alleys or even indoors. These two important features didn't allow room for bases, much less, running between them, therefore "man on first" was stated after a single was hit and often between batters and even pitches to remind all the players that there was an invisible "man" on first base and that a dinger would score two, instead of one.

The other thing that I noticed very quickly, is these kids had, not only never been taught how to properly throw a Wiffle Ball, they had probably never seen anyone who has. This was obvious in that, besides watching me pitch like I had two heads, the confident (almost to the point of arrogant) little bastages, literally, couldn't touch any of my stuff with the bat. They would step their cocky punk-arses into the box and then quickly duck back out as the little white ball, that seem to definitely be directed right at their head, curved away, crossed the plate, and landed, gently, into the waiting hands of my Dad-- right down the middle. 

I would let up a bit on the second and third pitch to reassure them that, even if they do catch one in the face, back or nads, it isn't going to hurt them. It's a Wiffle ball, for God's sake. The laws of physics won't allow an object with this light of a mass to accelerate to speeds greater than 23 mph. Then I come in with a riser that looks so inviting as it floats to the plate, tailing in slightly towards the right-handed batter, that the kid can't resist swinging for the fences-- Whiff! (How Wiffleball got it's name.) 

My Dad still moves pretty good for an old guy and there aren't too many that I got past them that he didn't scoop up. I think I saw a little more of a pep in his step, too, when we started to gain a little respect from the juvenile delinquents. The kids were pretty amazed with our skills and even asked us to show us a few tricks. Some of them even listened when we explained how to throw a screwball or slap at the ball with the bat instead of swinging for power.

 

I feel bad that those little twerps made it through there whole childhoods without playing Wiffleball. What else did they miss out on? 

I learned a lot of lessons growing up from Wiffleball and other games like it. I could go on-and-on about the secret to curving the ball (don't try so hard) or other uses for the Wiffle bat (snipe-hunting, bottle-rocket-launching, sword-fighting) and things like that for hours but I, unfortunately, don't have that time right now. I will find it, though, soon and write about some more fun stuff in future postings. Right now, we will leave it on hold... Man on First. Buy T-shirts. Peace.

They Grow Up So Fast...

My Son told his Mother yesterday, "I hate my job!" He's three and he was as serious as a heart attack. When MLW asked him what job he thought he had, he replied, "You read the book. You should know what I'm talking about!"

It doesn't concern me that he thinks he has a job because, in a way, he does. He's got rules to follow and little chores to do and even when he does something as simple as going poopies, we reward him and tell him, "Good job, Buddy!"

I'm also not worried that he hates his job because, in all reality, none of us like to do most of the things we have to do. I would, however, would have rather he said, "I don't care for my job", just because it sounds nicer than hate.

What I am worried about in this story is that, we think the three-year old is being cute. We don't know where he learned to hate his job or what book he is talking about but the way he is being so serious and acting like such a little man is adorable. The problem is-- he is completely serious, he knows exactly what he is talking about and we better figure out the book he mentioned and re-read it so we can figure out what is going on.

I want M3S to be smarter than his mother and I... I just don't want it to happen before he gets into kindergarten. I get the feeling that he thinks he knows more than the both of us put together already.

I promised myself, way before I had any kids, that I would not be the kind of parent that would, blindly say, my child is smarter (or cuter, or superior, or anything better) than others but, as I learn more and more about him, I am having a harder time keeping that promise.

There was a Mom's magazine in the bathroom with the cover headline, "Is Your Child Gifted?" I didn't want to look but I couldn't resist skimming through the article. M3S, definitely, has some characteristics, like his advanced vocabulary, the tough questions he asks, how quickly he learns things and how easily he relates with older kids and adults, that might be signs that he could fall into that category. The article explained some of the pros and cons of being labeled a gifted child and suggested further testing, but I'm not sure, at all, how I feel about that.

I had the label of a gifted child from a very early age and sincerely believe that it contributed to my anxiety problems. Accelerated learning classes put a tremendous amount of pressure to succeed as a youngster and, ultimately, didn't help that much with college as an art major.

Though I would be very interested to know how smart M3S is, I think it is much more important to have a normal path to adulthood. That is hard enough for a kid, these days, without the extra pressures of trying to be better than everyone else.

It is a little hard for me to accept, but I do acknowledge that times have changed since I was a teenager. I believe, however, that if the kids can have the right values instilled in them, from an early age, they will have the tools available to help make the decisions that will make it easier for them. My Son is only three, though, so I haven't had to put my money where my mouth is yet. I'll give you an update on him in 10-12 years!

This whole thing is a learning experience for me, almost as much as it is him. I hope I haven't turned into one of those parents-- the kid is just so amazing! I am still pretty new to this, being a first time parent, so my obvious bias may be less with the coming of our second baby... unless its a girl! Then, all bets are off! 

We'll see in five more days. Buy T-shirts. Peace.

You Gotta Be Kidding Me 1.01

I learned at a fairly early age than when you tell a story, you should make it as far out as you possibly can-- go big or go home. Besides being more entertained, this also make you listeners question whether the story can really be true and I have found, the more they question it-- the easier it is to believe. People think, "That's crazy enough that there is no way he could make it up!"

MLW and I had our first real fight about one of my stories. Without getting into a lot of details (because I promised her I would never tell the story again), I told her that I was allergic to strawberries because I didn't like them. I don't think I would have been in that much trouble but I had an elaborate story that went along with it. It was a very funny story and parts of it were actually true but most of it was made up in my head years and years before we had ever met. I took some creative liberties each time I told the story until it was a joke-- a joke about me, that I became very good at delivering.

Although, the basis of the story was true and little white lies were thrown in here and there, I had been doing the bit so long that the line between the truth and the lies became blurred. I felt really bad lying to my future wife and that's why I came clean. (Well that and because I knew that I was going to be caught in the lie.) After all, I didn't mean to hurt her, I was just telling a funny story.

I have since made a vow that I would never do anything like that again. I want, so badly, to gain her trust back but I know it is going to take a little while. I am still paying for the incident, not only anytime that we see a strawberry, but in that I cannot tell any story without her questioning if I am, again, taking some amount of creative licence. If MLW were a man I could expect payback but, from what I have learned about women (which is not much), I will just be tortured through my own guilty conscience for the rest of my life.

I don't think she would ever make up a story to get even with me. That is why I found the story she told me over the weekend so amazing. I found myself saying, "You gotta be kidding me!", but knowing the person that told her the story and knowing my wife would not make it up... I have to believe it is true.

This boy was nine or ten years old and had his birthday coming up. His Mom was known for throwing pretty elaborate parties and the kid was into animals (especially reptiles and stuff) so she arranged for a sort of petting zoo at their home on a Saturday afternoon. The boy and his friends got to see and hold small animals of the reptile and amphibian families like frogs, snakes, lizards, turtles and such. For the grand finale, the keeper brought out a long boa constrictor and let the birthday boy hold it.

We aren't sure if the small boy provoked the large snake in any way but, suddenly and without warning the boa bit the boy-- clamping down on his pectoral muscle, close to his shoulder-- and began to wrap it's long body around him trying to squeeze the life out of him. The startled mother, wanting desperately to help her son, grabbed the reptile and struggled to force the monster to release the child. This only further incited the snake as it got a hold of the mother also and started constricting around both of them.

I wish I could have been there to see what the snake handler was doing up to this point because he isn't mentioned at all until he takes out his machete and chops that big old boa in two while it was still putting the squeeze on mother and child.

If it wasn't MLW that told me this tall tale, there is no way that I am ever going to believe it, but considering it was-- I've got no other choice.

Talk about traumatic? Do you think the snake handler had something in the contract to cover something like this? Do you think the mother was responsible for paying the snake handler for the value of the snake? Do you think that boy will ever have another petting zoo at a birthday party-- or another birthday party, at all?

How do you one up that party? Alligators? Bull Fighting? Bungee Jumping of the roof of the house? Pistols at twenty paces? Kids' parties are getting out of hand!

Buy T-shirts. Peace.

What's in Your Name?

I have spent much more time thinking about names in my life than I ever imagined I would. Since MLW found out she was expecting again, the subject comes up all the time and we haven't even found out the gender of the baby, yet.

I never really thought that much about names or understood how many things needed to be taking into consideration when naming a child. I don't think my parents realized it at the time, but I was given two the five most popular names at the time-- Scott Steven. I have written before about how more than several of the guys I have been hanging with since Junior High share the same names-- namely (no pun intended) Scott and Steve. That was never a big deal though because I am a big fan of nicknames as I think they give you character and are more personal than your given name.

I think that it is interesting that, except for people at work, no one calls me by my formal name. My family still calls me Scotty and everyone else, that knows me well, calls me Skeetz. When you really think about it, how many people use their real names? Most that I can think of are usually referred to by a nickname, pet name, relationship name or title. I very rarely even call my son anything but Buddy (unless he's in trouble) or my wife anything but Babe (unless I'm in trouble).

This leads me to believe that the name that your parents give you are not that important because you, or the people around you, are going to, basically, re-name you and call you whatever they want. But, alas, this is not the way that it works, and many people (including MLW) think it is a decision that needs to be considered carefully. In fact there are more than a few things to think about when choosing a name:

Are you named after someone? There are two different kind of people that influence baby naming. One being famous people or characters. My Mom liked to use this one. My brother was named after Cary Grant, my sister after Heidi-- the little German girl played by Shirley Temple, and I was named after Scotty-- Spanky's friend on the early Our Gang series who wore a big sweater and his baseball cap sideways. 

The other would be family names. M3S was named after his Grandfather. If our second child is a girl she will be named after her Great Grandmother. This is why MLW is convinced that we are going to have a boy-- because she already has the girl's name picked out. Without telling anybody what it is (for many reasons, but mainly so nobody we know steals it) I think we can find a masculine version of the same name for a boy, but I don't think it would work very well unless we were in a Latin nation.

We talked about naming our first Son after me but there are several reasons I didn't like that idea, including it's my name, there are better ones out there and I don't want for him to have to go through life with anyone calling him Junior-- and I'm sure someone would. I have met people, however, with there Mother's maiden name as their middle name and thought that was pretty cool. Come to think of it, though, those people were all women, but maybe we can find a way to honor Gram some way like that with another boy.

I guess I should also mention that we get an extra name to work with. Our children have (or will have) two middle names, although most people just run the two together, assuming that's how it is supposed to be. MLW claims that she is, not only allowed but expected, to do this because of her Mexican/Spanish heritage but I think it is just her way to one-up our kids over others... and I'm not going to argue this point.

What does your name mean? This is a point that I am willing to argue because I think my wife puts too much emphasis on it. Unless your name is totally weird, who is going to ever ask you, "what does your name mean?" My name means Painted Warrior Crown. I didn't know this before five minutes ago and I am probably not going to remember it in five minutes more but she insists on looking up the meaning of every name we remotely consider on one of the many Websites or books dedicated to this subject.

Unless the name actually reads as something silly, like Harry Colon, Richard (Dick) Head or Lemonjello and Orangejello (all real names of real people) I don't care about the origins or original meanings. I don't think many others do either.

What does your name rhyme with and what do your initials spell? On a similar note, parents should do their best to not name their child something that will get him or her teased or beat-up for no better reason than the parents wanted to make a point. Celebrities are big on this with children named Apple, Racer, Eagle-Eye, Heaven, Rocket, Rogue, Rebel or anything close to Sarah Palin's kids' names. (Check out the Palin Baby Name Generator--pretty funny). Frank Zappa almost made an art of it naming his kids Moon Unit, Dweezil, Ahmet Emuukha Rodan, and Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen. Children have enough to deal with on the playground without having to explain that their parents didn't have enough forethought to realize that the initials PP were going to be a problem to a bunch of first graders.

How popular is your name? The only negative thing I can really say about my name is that there are too many Scotts. I have found, though, in my extensive research of names, that the popularity of names runs in cycles. In many cases the cycles are complementary with trends in pop culture and the famous (and infamous) in the culture.

Look at the name Monica, for instance, which was becoming more common before President Clinton and Monica Lewinski made headlines. Now you almost never hear of a newborn child with that name. If you look at polls of the most popular names in over a period of several years, you can find many more examples of names exploding up the chart with the popularity of a celebrity (Madonna, Michael Jordan) or falling of with the fall of someone (Jeffrey Dahmer, Ted Bundy). Compare the popularity of the name Britney with the rise and fall of Britney Spears and tell me it is a coincidence. 

There are even names that are completely forgotten after an event or person in history. Adolph was a common name before Hitler started his reign. Now, I imagine, you would have a hard time finding many in most of the world. The same can be said about Napoleon and Attila but, honestly, I don't know if those were unique names before or if parents didn't want their children to be associated with Huns.

Some biblical names have had some periods of popularity. Jesus, though, is a name that I can't quite figure out. I know the Spanish speaking cultures use the name, but I can't think of a single English speaking person, Christian or not, named Jesus. Maybe that's in line with one of my very few rules of baby naming: No Bible Names. My theory being, I could grow up thinking that I was going to be the most famous Scott ever--bigger than Scott Joplin, Scott Baio and Scotty on Star Trek. A child named after a person in the Bible-- especially a major player in the Bible-- Moses, Jonah, or God forbid-- the biggest player of all... Jesus, can never hope that of themselves.

Does your name match your personality? You know how they say that couples that have been together a long time start to look alike. I think this can happen with individuals and their names. When you hear certain names you just picture certain characteristics in a person. Think of the name Bubba, Junior, Martha, Lola, Chad or Marvin and tell me what you see. Different individuals may picture things differently but, generally, each name generated some characteristic and/or personality in your head, right?

Who's to say that a name choice that isn't assigned to a person doesn't play into that person's personality? Maybe it's the fact that when we hear a name we see a particular person or maybe it's that so many people see that particular person that they start to become that person... or maybe I'm thinking too much about this now.

We were lucky, I think, to pick the perfect name for our Son. It seems to match his personality almost perfectly. The choice, however, for my wife and I was a difficult one. We had almost definitely decided on the first name months before the birth but we went right up to the final deadline when we were just about to leave the hospital before we, finally, filled out the name portion of the birth certificate application and handed it over. MLW said it was so we could tell if the name we chose fit the baby.

I think we did a pretty good job but that is an idea worth considering. Why don't we wait for a few years, try out a few different choices, make sure there are no pop culture conflicts or too many other kids with that name in the world. We could take a little more time to match the name to the personality and even the looks of the child and then a little more to allow the youngster some input on his moniker. Then, at the age of maybe five or six we can have a coming out party and announce the little bugger to the world with the name that he or she will have to live with for the rest of their life... or maybe we should just pick one and move on with it.

There is a very interesting page on Wikipedia: List of unusual personal names, that I ran across while researching this article. Check it out and then buy some T-shirts. Peace.

Memories of "The Lot"

Every young boy dreams of being famous-- usually a professional ball player of some kind or maybe an astronaut, or performer. They are going to conquer the world, discover new things, have millions of fans, break world records or be declared a hero. When I was a young boy, I did most of my dreaming where a lot of children do, on "the lot".

"The lot" can mean different things to different people. It can be an empty field, common ground, or even a parking lot. In our case, "the lot" incorporated all of these as it was the Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church Campus, occupying most of the inside of the suburban block that many of us lived on or near. 

It was a fairly small parish of, probably, 400 families. The campus was comprised the church building and a school with five classrooms and a multipurpose room. If you don't count the metal, shed-like concession stand, that was all of the structures so there was a ton of open space. There was a quad area between the two buildings that was kept up nicely but rarely used and a very large area that we just called "the hill" but it was really just a slightly sloped piece of land, running from the school down to the street that was supposed to be used for a gymnasium that was never built. The athletic field and the large parking lot took up most of the rest of the space. I always thought the parking lot was extremely large for a parish our size as I don't think I ever saw it more than 3/4 full-- even for Easter Vigil. All that space made for a huge amount of room to play. 

Kids today don't play like we used to. They need a coach and a referee and a permission slip to play. They need warm up exercises and family members in the stands and they need a cool, healthy but tasty treat after they formally line up and parade past each other slapping hands and chanting a monotone, "good game, good game, good game...".

I can think of maybe nine days that I wasn't up on the lot, after school when it was in session and, basically, all day in the summer, from the time I was able to leave the front yard and cross the street on my own until I was able to drive. We would all congregate, choose up teams and play until the fight broke out or it got dark, at which point we would drag all of our stuff home until the next day when we would do it all over again.

There was no schedule-- no set time to start. Everyone would just show up and as soon as we had enough to play it was go time. If you showed up late, you sat out until another came to make the teams even or were designated, "all-time-hiker" (or catcher, or goalie). 

Captains were usually the two oldest, biggest or the best athletes and the last person picked was probably the youngest, smallest and most uncoordinated. This practice may seem cruel, by today's standards, but I prefer it to giving every kid a trophy just for showing up. It was honest and let you know where your strengths and weaknesses were and made you determined to improve. 

Everyone was playing for themselves. There were no parents to make proud or girls to impress except the ones that were playing with us and we were an equal opportunity organization-- the girls were treated like boys. This, generally, made it all fair and fun.

Disagreements on the field were kept on the field. We called our own fouls and made our own penalties and if we had a problem working something out, as a last resort we had a "do-over". More often than not a escalating disagreement, bordering on a fight, would end the game for the day but because there was no clock we needed something to mark the end of the day. After all, we still had to make the trek home before the streetlights came on and, back then, we didn't have cel phones that we could use to call Mom and have someone pick us up.

There were no set seasons for particular sports on the lot either, although we were more likely to be playing Indian Ball than Roller Hockey in the dead of summer and we would usually stick to one pastime for a week or two before we got bored. We tended to mix it up pretty much but, living in Soccertown, USA, we naturally mix in a little more of that the the others.

"The field" was in pretty poor condition through most of the year. The infields had no grass and it was sparse and clumpy in the outfields. It was set up differently for baseball and soccer through parts of the year but we could do either at any time. We would usually play soccer on the quad though because it made it tough to run the whole field with less than eight or so guys per team. 

Hockey was played at the far end of the parking lot where it was not unusual to see just as many skated players as those in street shoes playing together. This is also where the basketball hoops were located. Although it was set up so you could play full court, we rarely played anything more than HORSE or "around the world".

"The hill" was where would normally play football. A quick poll of the available players would determine whether the game would be tackle or touch and with a real ball or the Nerf. We would also fly our kites and, when it snowed, sled on that hill, not that I would consider them sports, but it was cool because every kid in the neighborhood knew that was the place to be.

I wouldn't really consider Fenceball a sport either, but we played it more than any of the other stuff. I have no idea where Fenceball came from. For all I know, it was played only at OLM by only the kids on that lot. I'm not completely sure that my friends and I didn't invent the game. All I know for sure is that I kicked that ball up against that fence more times than I can begin to count. I kicked it with friends, strangers and by myself. I kicked off the bomb (a bad thing) and I kicked it off the post (a good thing). 

It is a very simple game with almost no rules-- you get one-touch to make the ball hit the front of the backstop fence (without using your hands). If you miss you are out and last one in... wins! There were variations over the years that, for the sake of time, I won't get into here and now... maybe on a future post. 

Still, to this day, some 25-30 years later, however, I can still visualize every inch of that dusty field-- especially the screen and the infield where we played Fenceball. I still dream, literally, of playing on "the lot" and conquering the world, discovering new things, having millions of fans, breaking world records and being declared a hero. 

I wonder if the others that played like that have as fond of memories as I do? In the case of our lot, they can be bittersweet memories because the lot doesn't belong to OLM anymore. Reorganization of the Catholic parishes in the area left it vacant and it was eventually sold to the public school district. I still drive by every once in a while and even stopped a time or two. They have left it, pretty much, unchanged-- yet it is very, very different.

Several years ago, I started writing my life list-- things I wanted to make a point of doing in my lifetime, but I put it aside, unfinished, a short time later. When I had the stroke, I guess because it was a reminder short a lifetime is, I dug it back out. The first entry on the page is "Go up to the lot and play Fenceball with my son."

I think he is old enough now to kick and still young enough to be impressed when I tell him that I hold the world record for kicking a soccer ball up against this fence...

...he may even declare me a hero.

Check out the latest addition to the Old Time Sport Series: When it was more than a game--Soccer: If it moves, kick it. If it doesn't move, kick it until it does.

Follow the bouncing ball...

There was a time, quite recently actually, when I was considered extremely knowledgeable about music. I may not be asked to participate on a general trivia team but I was a first team all star at music trivia night. Not that I knew my classic rock as well as Dupee or the 80s as well as Cox and I definitely had my weaknesses, like country/western, but overall, I had a general, overall knowledge about a very wide range of music genres. 

I said that this was fairly recently but I must be getting old because I realized that I haven't been in the band since just after Jenn and I were engaged– that was almost six years ago now. Except for when I am listening to my Zune during my workouts (which is not often or long enough) I rarely listen to any of the music I used to. 

I guess most people most often listen to music in the car. That's why radio stations are so concerned with drive times for ratings. When I'm in the car alone I am usually listening to talk radio. Maybe that's because music stations in this town suck, maybe it's because my single-CD player skips after you get to the third track or maybe it's because I'm getting too darn old.

When I'm in the car with my wife and/or son (which is most of the time now) we usually go with no radio at all. I wish I could say this policy is to promote conversation and family togetherness, but honestly, it's so there are no arguments over what we listen to. My lovely wife prefers (get this) either Hip Hop or Christian music while my three-year old tends to lean toward Rock 'n Roll but can surprise you, go off the board and request something that he heard seven weeks ago... "you know, that one song– about... babies!" He's an incredibly bright kid but he can't understand the concept of a radio and my inability to control what song they play next.

So this one-time front-man for a band called 1.sick.puppy now finds himself, most days, with either something we sang at church or heard on the Disney Channel or a tune like "The Pirate Song" or "Who Let the Dogs Out?" stuck in my head. 

That's enough to make you old.

I have a few more music designs inspired by my wife added to the cafepress shop at: http://www.cafepress.com/skeetzteez/5792787

I am considering doing a whole series of license plate frames in the follow the bouncing ball theme! Tell me what you think about that or give me lyrics from good driving songs to use in the comments section!

Weekend with Just the Boys

I had a great weekend. My wife went out of town on Friday and left me at home with the baby through Sunday night. 

I guess I should be done calling him the baby as he will be three years old next week and he really is getting to be a "big boy". He is learning to go on the big boy potty so he is wearing big boy unders.

I always promised that when I had kids I wouldn't be one of those parents that bragged endlessly about how smart they were, but I am having a hard time keeping this one. I don't know if it is just an "every parent" type of thing or if he really is extremely advanced, but he just freaks me out sometimes with how he presents himself and what he understands. I want him to be smarter than me– just not yet.

It has taken almost three years but I am almost completely comfortable with staying alone with him– even for as long as 2-3 days like this weekend. His clothes will probably not match like they do when Mama dresses him and we may have cold pizza for breakfast, but we are going to make it through without any major catastrophes– and we might learn to pee standing up (in the backyard) as a bonus.

My weekend with just the boys was the inspiration behind my most recent design available at: http://www.cafepress.com/skeetzteez/5804026

One of the tricks I have learned to make the weekend move along smoothly is to keep my son busy and make sure he feels involved. Saturday morning we went to the Home Depot to pick up some stuff so we could do some work in the yard. I felt much better about my fathering skills when I saw how some of the other dads had their kids dressed. There was a 6-7 year old girl wearing cowboy boots, a fairy dress, cape and stocking cap. 

Why not take the easy way out and dress the kids in a shirt that explains your predicament right off the bat? http://www.cafepress.com/skeetzteez/5804026 Then you can concentrate on more important stuff like teaching them how to pee standing up.