Tonight over dinner, Katherine asked me if I'd noticed anything unusual about the front door. I asked if she'd made a decoration that was hanging on the door. "Yes," she said. I told her that I would look at it after dinner.

What I found was an erasable slate hanging from the doorknob with, as best I can tell, the following:

   T
T2I04H
 I  S

I told her that it was very impressive, and asked her what it said.

"Night is the beautifulest," she said proudly and went off to play.

Scratch one charismatic old guy from the roster. Unlike John O'Hurley, George Hamilton and Jerry Springer, Vincent Pastore has decided that the rigorous training needed for the dancing program is too much for him, and he's bailing out.

Master P, you listening?

The decision is an interesting one. You have to figure that either they're thinking she's a bad enough singer that she'll be gone this week anyway, or else they're thinking that now she'll survive much longer than she should have since people will be voting for her in the hopes of more pictures coming out. Nigel even mentioned that AI is just as much a popularity contest as a singing contest. So did he tip his hand there? He expects her to last a few weeks now?

More American Idol stories...

Technorati: American Idol

Was I hearing things Monday night, or did Robin actually tell Lilly not to "go all Prisoner's Dilemma on me" when she was about to confess something about Marshall's car? The line was delivered so quickly and quietly, with no reaction at all, that I'm left wondering if I just misheard it and the geeky part of my brain filled in the rest.

Prisoner's Dilemma, for those who've never heard of it, is something of a logic game where you have to figure out the optimal strategy for winning over time. The general idea is that two prisoners have been sentenced, and are offered a deal - if one of them betrays the other, then he goes free and the other one gets 10 years. If they both betray each other, they both get 2 years. But if they both stay silent, they both get 6 months. So it's a cooperation game. If they both go for the benefit that is best for them (potential freedom by turning the other guy in), then they both lose and end up with 2 years. But if they both stay silent, knowing that they could be on the hook for up to 10 years, they could end up winning and getting out with just 6 months.

Since the game is about betraying and not just about confessing, I'm not really sure that Robin's prisoner's dilemma reference was accurate. Anybody? Did I just imagine it?

Update: It was still on my Tivo, and yes that's absolutely what she said: "Don't you go all prisoner's dilemma on me." So hey, if one of the writers of this episode is out there trolling the blogs, I just want to say "Noticed it. Nice."

Have I mentioned lately that my wife likes things grilled? She's all about the year round grilling. Which is fine by me, really, when weather permits. So when she said that we were grilling for dinner tonight it didn't dawn on me until too late that over the last week we've gotten a good foot of snow. I call her on the phone to tell her this while I'm driving home, and she goes over to the porch to survey the situation. "Looks fine," she says.

Looks fine, I come to learn, means that the grill is surrounded by a foot-high snowdrift on all sides. The side facing the house, where I would normally stand, is completely ice due to the gutter dripping down on it. This is going to be fun.

This is a precarious spot. I am standing on an icy hill, sloping down toward an open flame that will soon heat in excess of 500 degrees. This is not terribly smart. So I have perched myself with one foot braced back against the house, and one foot planted up against a wheel of the grill to avoid this happening. It is not a comfortable position, and certainly not the sort of summertime "hang out on the porch with a beer until the chicken's done" kind of time. I carefully step out, position myself so I don't do a faceplant into the flames, check the chicken, and then retrace my steps backwards to the house.

Elizabeth, my 2yr old, has locked me out of the house.

It's a sliding door, you see, which I have closed completely so that the kids who like to stand in the door and watch Daddy will not freeze. It does not take Elizabeth long to experiment with the little foot switch she sees Daddy step on, which locks the door. And, of course, she's incapable of pressing the unlock mechanism. Meanwhile Kerry is upstairs with the baby, I've got a plate in one hand covered in raw chicken bits and another hand with my grill tongs. I try to explain to Katherine, my 4 year old, how to unlock the door but she's not good in tense situations. Finally she just goes to get Kerry, who thankfully does not choose this opportunity to be funny, and lets me back in the house. :)

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How cool is it that they're using a Chris Daughtry song as the exit song this year? It's called "Home", although I'm sure people are going to come looking for it as "Be careful what you wish for" or "I'm going home". (The show picks it up in the middle, right at "I'm going home to the place where I belong...")

I actually have this CD, it's very good. I'm happier with it than I was with Bo Bice's effort.

UPDATE 5/8/2007: People are debating the lyrics in the comments, so I dug up the liner notes that come with the CD. There are as official as you're gonna get! Apparently the lyric sheet does not include every single "So" and "Well" and "Yeah", so I'm leaving those in. And vettegirl was right, it is "remains true".

I'm staring out into the night,
Trying to hide the pain.
I'm going to the place where love
And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.

I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from,
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
Well I'm going home.

The miles are getting longer, it seems,
The closer I get to you.
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.
But your love remain true and I don't know why.
You always seem to give me another try.

So I'm going home,
Back to the place where I belong,
And where your love has always been enough for me.
I'm not running from,
No, I think you got me all wrong.
I don't regret this life I chose for me.
But these places and these faces are getting old,
So I'm going home.
I'm going home.

Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all,
And then some you don't want.
Be careful what you wish for,
'Cause you just might get it all.
You just might get it all, yeah.

Well, that was certainly night and day from the men, wasn't it?

Before I get into the details, can I just take a moment to say how annoying Ryan has gotten, and how painfully forced the whole "let's pretend to make Ryan and Simon fight" nonsense is?  I mean, geez, they even went back to Chris Sligh's comments yesterday -- on video! -- just to force some interaction.  Just painful.  It's interesting that Simon said he likes it when contestants fight back with him, like Chris did, because it shows spirit.  Actually, at least in Chris's case, what it shows is that he's got a bunch of canned responses all cocked and ready to go, and he looks for ways to use them because he thinks he's funny that way.  A truly funny personality can think on his feet.  Look at his video again and tell me that the Il Divo and Teletubbies comment was off the cuff.  No way.  I think that before he ever got up to sing, he said "Watch this, I'm going to slam Simon on the Teletubbies thing."  And then he went about forcing it into the conversation for no reason. I'm liking him less and less.

Anyway, on with the ladies.  It would be an understatement to say that American Idol this year is going to be all about the ladies.  I'll even go so far as saying that it's going to be all about the black ladies?  Can I say that?  I can't really say African American if I don't know each individual race, can I?  How does one go about making that observation without sounding racist?

Oh, and ladies, here's a tip.  When Paula says you're beautiful?  It means she hated your song and is struggling for something nice to say about it.  When Simon says "On the positive side, you're attractive" it means he thinks you'll get votes based on that alone.

Let's make this easy by just sorting by who is going to make it to the finals, since there are some obvious favorites.

Stephanie starts it out on a note that reminds me of an American Idol original, Latoya London.   Everybody seems to love it just because it was better than all the men put together, even though it had issues.

Sabrina takes it back up a notch not just by singing well but by showing that she did her homework by watching past seasons and choosing not to sing a ballad during these early stages.  Good move.

Melinda is the former backup singer who is now enjoying her time at the front of the stage.  And she sings really, really well.  She's got a great personality as well, and really knows how to work her backstory ("You'd think that the 6 feet between the background microphones and the lead microphone wouldn't be that big a distance...")  I still don't think she looks like an American Idol, though.  I hate to say that, but it's true.

Gina's got a good shot at making the final 6 girls, but I really wish she'd fix her hair.  The black with red highlights thing doesn't work for me.

Lakisha.  Oh, Lakisha.  She brings down the house singing that Dreamgirls song made famous by Jennifer Hudson, and you almost have to wonder if the producers told her to sing it just so they could make the comparisons.  Here's my problem with dear Lakisha.  She looks horrible.  I feel awful saying that, but it's honest. Her teeth need work.  She needs to drop like 50 pounds.  I'm not saying a "big" girl can't go far in the competition, look at how far Mandisa got before she started blessing us all in the name of Jesus and telling us she doesn't like gay people.  Lakisha looks unhealthy, like she does not take care of herself.  If the producers want to groom her like the next Jennifer Hudson, they'd better get started on the image people quickly.

Jordin is likely to claim the last spot in the top 6 as the "bouncing 17yr old with a big voice".  She's nice, she's energetic and polite, and she has the potential to sing well.  But, like all of the young contestants, she'll eventually fall behind the professionals and end up in the "Better luck in a few years" camp.

Ok, that's the 6 I expect to sail through to the finals.  And now the rest.

Amy is one of the dull and forgettable ones.  I don't see her lasting.

Leslie.  When I first saw Leslie in the final 12 "dancing" vignette at the end of Hollywood week, I thought, "she's goofy."  Simon says it better, by calling her "ungainly".

Antonella demonstrates that she's out of her league, and could easily be the first to go.  I'm somewhat surprised that she's even still there, given that popularity of her topless pictures.  They could easily have booted her and given her spot to a runner-up. 

Nicole?  Who?  She's another one that I can't see making it to the final 12.

Haley.  I think that it was during Haley's performance that I turned to Kerry and said, "Let's see if one of the judges mentions Broadway."  Sure enough, right out of Randy's mouth, "It felt Broadway to me."  Thank you.  I sort of liked it, but after looking at the top 6 up there I can't see it being good enough.

Alaina gets a "rely on your looks" from Simon.  She might survive the first week, but not much longer.  Voice isn't nearly strong enough.

Who will win it?  Right now, if we assume that singing ability still counts the most, I think it's between Melinda and Lakisha.  Which I think is interesting because I've also commented that I don't think either one of them looks the part.  I like Melinda's story better -- Fantasia already played the single mamma card.  I don't want to be subjected to that again.  And images can change over the weeks.  Look at Clay Aiken, after all.

Over the last week or so we got a chance to visit with two different sets of recently married friends. One just had a baby, and one just found out they're expecting a baby. In both conversations the following idea came up, so I thought I'd blog about it. That idea is this:

For every baby story someone tells you, you are going to learn that you'll experience that exact story, and yet it will be completely unique to you.

Here's the problem. Once you either get pregnant or have a baby, people are going to come out of the woodwork to tell you what to expect. Most people are not courteous enough to properly tell "here's what happened to us" stories, they will tell you "here's what's going to happen to you" stories. These stories are well intentioned. They want to bond with you over the shared experience you're about to have. They want to help by imparting their wisdom based on their own experience.

However, it's logical for you to get defensive over it, because for someone to tell you what you're going to experience (as well as how you're going to feel and react) before it ever happens, well, that makes it seem like they're taking the experience away from you. It lessens the anticipation. Your natural instinct is to say "Not me!" and then, even if it does play out exactly as the person told you it would, your subconscious can't even see it because darnit you want the experience to be yours, not this other person's. The problem with this is that you're isolating yourself from what should be a great support community. You just had a baby, for pete's sake, and you want to distance yourself from other people with babies? Not a good idea. You should want to bring them closer so that when you need to say Help! they're there for you.

Hence the paradox. Much like light exists as both wave and particle (physics, see?), baby stories exist in both past and future. They happened, past tense, to me. They will happen, future tense, to you. The great thing is that they will still be similar enough that you should feel fine saying, "Yup, that happened to me too!" while at the same time being able to tell the story as if it was yours to begin with. They're handed down from parent to parent. But I'm not handing down "The story of when Elizabeth threw up three times at 4am", I'm handing down the story of "My kid threw up in the middle of the night." It was handed down to me. You'll hand it down to somebody else.

Nobody has claim to baby stories. Telling you one does not lessen your own ability to tell it for your own situation. Each version of the story is as valuable as the next one. When you tell them, tell them with that in mind. And when you're being forced to listen to them, keep that in mind as well. The storyteller simply wants to have some common ground to share with you. You don't have to push the person away for that. You'll probably find yourself in the role of storyteller soon enough.

American Inventor is coming back!

I'm glad to see the show returning, but I hope they make some changes. I really enjoyed the early rounds where we got to see a wide variety of inventions. But all the stupid sob stories were too much to bear. If you didn't break down crying at the end of each round, you were eliminated. Sad, really, and not in the way the producers intended I'm sure.

More Doug Hall, as well. The man is incredibly annoying, but he also happens to know what he's talking about. He's a professional idea guy. So stop with the vignettes about how he thinks he knows it all, and just let him give advice to the inventors that might actually be useful.

Any fan of classic literature has got to be frustrated by the Disney-fication of eventually all children's classics. When we decorated Katherine's nursery we told people that the theme was "classic Pooh" rather than "Disney Pooh". If you didn't realize that, you do not. All of them - not just Cinderella and Snow White, but Sleeping Beauty and Little Mermaid too, all are old public domain stories that Disney has sanitized and merchandised. Some of them are actually better in the original, if you ask me. Read the original Sleeping Beauty some time and then see how dumbed down the Disney version is.

Anyway, this post is not about princesses, it's about the sordid history of Winnie the Pooh and Disney's recent loss in that war. You see, the rights to Pooh are technically owned by the Slesinger family, who purchased them from A.A. Milne back in 1930. In 1961 the family signed a deal with Disney to market Pooh, and receive royalties. However around 1991 it appears that the deal went south, and Disney just stopped making the royalty payments. It's worth noting that Pooh around this time surpassed Mickey Mouse as Disney's biggest money maker. But, hey, they're Disney, they're above the law, right? Like Scientology or Microsoft they can just throw paperwork and lawyers at the problem until the other party just goes away.

In 2002 some granddaughters of Milne and Shepard appeared out of nowhere and tried to file a copyright claim to the characters which would essentially have erased Slesinger's complaint against Disney (since they would never have had the right to license Pooh in the first place). Disney was not technically a part of that lawsuit, but basically they funded the whole thing. They said that they would pay the granddaughters' costs, as long as, if they won, the granddaughters also signed their rights over to Disney. That's practically Asimov's grandfather paradox, if you think about it. How evil do they have to be to even think of sometihng like that? We can't think of a reason why we shouldn't have to pay this deal we signed...I know! We'll go back in time and fix it so that they never had the rights to do the deal in the first place! Mwahahahah!

Only problem is, as of Thursday, it didn't work. The judge threw it out. Apparently in 1983 one of the surviving Milne's did indeed know about and approve of, on paper, the Slesinger deal. So she couldn't then swoop in and say "No deal."

Want an idea of just how big the Disney marketing juggernaut is? Apparently the Slesinger's are owed somewhere in the neighborhood of $2 billion dollars in royalties. Billion. Have a nice day.

The official cast list has been announced. Since I'd been keeping a running list of the rumors already, I posted the official details over here.

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The courtroom circus continues as everyone ever involved in Anna Nicole Smith's life fights not just for custody of the baby, but The trial">where Smith's body should be buried. The boyfriend Howard K. Stern (you always have to say the K, otherwise people think she was hooked up with the radio guy) wants her buried in the Bahamas, next to her son. The mother, who Smith did not talk to for years, wants her back in Texas.

Honestly - is there anyone who thinks that the mother has any claim here? The most that the mother's lawyer can muster for an argument is "since the dawn of time, next of kin have been given the rights and responsibilities to bury their dead." Meanwhile, Stern can provide witnesses and paperwork proving that the son is buried in the Bahamas, that Smith has a plot next to him, and that she said that is what she wanted. Seems open and shut to me. Why isn't the mother fighting to have her grandson's remains moved to Texas as well? She probably couldn't find a news crew interested in that.

On a related note, the security surrounding the people tasked with handling the body has been tighter than it was for the Saddam Hussein hanging. I guess we'll have to keep waiting for YouTube video.

BoingBoing has this story about unboundedly long songs. Not infinite, since you can stop whenever you want, but songs that have no specific end. For instance, X Bottles of Beer on the Wall. You can pick whatever X you want.

I'm surprised that "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" isn't on there. Katherine the other day asked me when that song ends, and I told her it ends when you stop singing. Am I missing something? Does that song have an end that I don't know about?

That doesn't look right.
  What?  What is it?
You have a penis.  Or, that's what I think it is.
  It's a penis.
Fair enough.

Would you like to take break?  I finish taking frightened bunnies on rounds.

What, you don't think you can learn from seeing an actual arm reattachment, Milos?
  I reattach child's arm once, in rusty shell of car.  I can still see dead bodies that littered streets as my country burn to ground.
Milos is so lucky.

Buzz feels inadequate because he lost his job at FootLocker.  Now his dingle won't work.

Man is the only animal that wears pants during twosies.
  So unnatural.

Carla, he'll pass out when he poops!

You hear that, everybody?  I do have it rough.  And that's coming from a man who knows a teensy bit about adversity.  And why is that, Turk?
  Because I'm black.
No, because you have diabetes.  What's hard about being black?

Hiya.  My name is Bob Kelso and I like whores. Now, why don't I introduce myself like that?  Because there is a time and a place for the truth.

And what did the patient do, doctor?
  Uh, well, she started to hyperventilate.  Uh, uh, and then she reached for a hit of what she thought was an oxygen tank.  It turned out to be a helium container from pediatrics.  Then she screamed, "I'll kill you bitches!" which frankly we all thought was hilarious.

Now she's suing the hospital.  And since Ted is our lawyer, what's going to happen?
  Girlfriend's gonna get paid!

Sorry Bobbo, I'm gonna go ahead and tell the truth whenever I damn well please. For instance, your tie. It's hideous.  In fact its only redeeming quality is to divert attention from the very visible outline of your man girdle.
  Too mean.
Sorry.

Anyway, Todd and Ted are gonna get twenty bucks from me to tape you to the ceiling of the cafeteria tomorrow, and I'm telling you this because I figure you've already zoned out and have stopped listening to me, am I right?
  (I don't know what the janitor had said, but I feel like things are looking up.)

Well I say y'all step outside and handle this like we used to back in my day.
  Muskets?

Totally psyched to be here, buddy!  Let's start talkin about your life.

In Iraq we prefer to think of shrapnel as "internal body bling."

You shouldn't have told him the truth...uth....uth....uth....
  Dr. Kelso?
...uth.

And then one day I found out he was sleeping with his students and I was crushed.  I mean, why not me?

He's upset with me, but he won't talk about it, because his peep won't perform!
  He pooped in our house!
I don't know why he can't get past that.

Todd, anything to add?
  Your nipples are stunning.
    Hey, thanks brother.
      It make Milos sad that he have to answer to you.

Ah Billy, after the Arctic and the Pacific, you're my favorite Ocean.

As some of you know I'm not a huge fan of fire.

Uncool, Carl!  Not down with the fire!

And over here we have Dr. Turtlehead who is suffering from a severe case of the sulkies.  Symptoms include bad posture, mopey face and a sudden uncontrollable flailing of the upper extremities.

This is half an ibuprofen.  It is the perfect dose for your pea-sized brain.  Take it after I leave, you'll save yourself the embarrassment.

Any other day I'd say no, but today, I'm gonna go ahead and just say no.

He took care of you when you were wallowing away on your couch drinking scotch like it was vodka.
  I accidentally killed three people, he got arrested for pushing a scooter and he passes out when he poos.

After six long years, aren't you tired of taking care of him?
  Of course we are.  But we're his friends.

(I heard every word.  See, unfortunately I had forgotten that Ted and Todd were under janitorial orders to tape me to the ceiling.)

Duct tape five!

I wash it every day, I condition, but I just can't get it where I want it.
  For the love of God!  Mousse and twist!

I would really like it if you'd...want to go and grab a beer with me?  What do you say?
  (And even though I'd gotten a totally sincere, spontaneous invite from Dr. Cox, I knew my answer.)  No thanks, I have plans.
Thank you God.  Yes, that still counts.
  (I didn't have plans, but I did have a whole new perspective.  You can stick to your convictions and hopefully get rewarded, even if other people end up a little peeved.  And yeah, my life was still in the crapper.  But if felt good to finally be dealing with it on my own.)

At last a day with real snow, where I'm home anyway (by the time I got us shovelled out there was no way to even bother trying to catch a train) and the kids can come out and play.

There's enough snow that little legs will easily fall through it up to their knees and get stuck. But it's been cold enough that the top layer is nice and crunchy. In New England, much like in Alaska, we have 57 different ways to describe snow :). But this makes for a very interesting condition, because Katherine is heavier than Elizabeth, and Katherine falls through, while Elizabeth floats along on top. I got a picture of this, I hope it comes out. Katherine is stuck up to her knees and trying to push herself out, which ends up with arms going into the snow up to her elbows. Meanwhile Elizabeth is quite literally walking circles around her like a mountain goat asking "You ok, Katherine? You stuck in the snow?"

Katherine got to experience her first case of snow blindness, too. We went in for lunch after playing for awhile. "Whoa," she tells me, "It's dark. Are the lights on?" I explained snow blindness, and that it would go away. "Will it be like that upstairs, too?" she asked. I said probably not. But sure enough as she runs up the stairs I hear, "It's dark up here too!"

Welll, not really.  More like What a Buddhist monk taught me about blogging.  That's the title of a post by Darren over at ProBlogger.net on the subject of how to handle it when people are dumping hate and anger on your head.  Apparently this is something common in the blog world (he says he gets email about it every week).  I like the advice, it's worth checking out.  I'm tempted to include it here since there's one line that sums it up nicely, but that's not fair to steal his thunder.  Go read his post.

Something interesting to note about Darren's post is how the minute he says that he learned something from a Buddhist monk he feels obliged to say, "Not that I'm changing religions..."  Why does that make me think of the Seinfeld "Not that there's anything wrong with that episode?"  How come learning something from a Buddhist implies that you have to become a Buddhist?  Or that you have to make sure that people don't think that?

But now we're down to 24 hopefuls, and we've seen enough of some characters to start picking out the more interesting ones.

Chris - The "Jack Osborne" kid who said his goal was to make David Hasselhoff cry. I like him. I don't think he'll win the whole thing, because I don't think personality will carry him the whole way and he'll need to start being known for singing ability and not sense of humor. But he should make the final 12.

Sundance - How awkward was it in the final two males when they told Sundance "You had a lousy week", told the other guy "We've liked you since we first saw you", and then picked Sundance anyway? Obviously the guy has been picked for his character and his look. He sings well, but he won't last under the pressure.

Sanjaya - I like this kid. He's the one who first auditioned with his sister, but his sister didn't make it. Remember that? The judges told him that he was better, but when he came out and his sister asked "What did they say?" he didn't tell her that, so she wouldn't feel bad. And then when she got cut, rather than celebrating with the room that won, he went to find her. He's a good guy, and I hope he does well. Seems to sing well. I don't know if America's ready for somebody with his look to win it all, though. Unfortunate, but true.

Phil - He's the guy that missed the birth of his kid. Personally, I think he looks goofy. His hat during the Hollywood auditions covered his entire face. But maybe that story alone will make him popular.

Blake - The beatbox guy. Actually, their group performance was pretty impressive, entirely based on him. So I'm wondering if that shows that the guy's got enough performing experience to play the game the right way and do well for himself, whether he's the best singer or not. Some of these young kids think it's all about just singing the best song each night, and it's really not. There's lots more to it than that. You have to be the character that the audience likes the best. Blake's already got a hook that people can remember.

The ladies are an interesting bunch. I'm not really sure the producers did them justice - do any personalities stand out, like with the guys? Sure, there's Antonella. Everybody knows her because she auditioned with her friend and the judges told her she was better, even though she's untrained. And she's pretty. But is she good enough to go far? I see her as one of the ones that makes the final 12 based entirely on looks and charm, and then goes home early when she can't keep up with the other solid singers.

But then who else? The woman who had a career as a backup singer. Melinda Doolittle. She sings well. But does she look like an American Idol? What are the stories for these women? We saw lots of Gina, but I don't know much about her personally to care one way or the other.

Who knows. It's obviously still too early to do much beyond pointing out the personalities that are memorable. That alone won't win it. I'd be willing to bet, as a matter of fact, that none of the people that I've listed here end up winning the whole thing.

Who are your favorites to go on to the final 12? Who is most likely to win it all at this stage of the game?

More American Idol stories...

Technorati: American Idol

"What did you do at school today, Katherine?"

"We learned how to make birds."

"That sounds fun. How do you make a bird?"

"Well you take a piece of paper, and then you make a heart. You fold it in half to make a bird, and then you take the scissors and you cut the honkin wings."

"I'm sorry, you do what?" Did she saw "hawking" or something?

"You cut the honkin wings with your scissors." Sounds like "honking". How odd.

"The what kind of wings?"

"Honkin, daddy. The honkin wings."

"Oh. What are honkin wings?"

"You know, when you make the heart, and then you cut it down the middle to make the wings and you put the wings on the side, and then you cut them some more if they're honkin."

"Sweetie what does honkin mean?"

"Big big big big."

Well, duh. "The big honkin wings." It actually makes perfect sense, it just never would have dawned on me that she'd use a word like that.

It's funny how words work when you're 4 years old. You understand that "plus" means addition and "minus" means "take away". But "times" already meant something, it means repeating something some number of times, but when you say something like "three times five", it makes no sense. You wouldn't say to a person "I spun in a circle times three."

So as I teach Katherine her multiplication I've simply switched it to the end of the sentence. Instead of asking her "three times five" I ask her what "five three times" is. This is far more intuitive, she understands that "five three times" means "five and five and five". She can do that math.

I have no idea how to explain division yet. All I've got in my head is that old clip from the Beverly Hillbillies of Jethro talking about his "gazintas". Two gazinta four two times, two gazinta six three times, two gazinta eight four times.... :)

So now it's "official", Mitt Romney is running for president. I think that Massachusetts feels about Romney the same way that New York feels about Giuliani (hint, it's not good).

Luckily, there's an easy way to make sure that Romney never gets anywhere with the Republican party. Every time he has a public appearance, somebody raise their hand and say, "Umm, yeah, weren't you governor in Massachusetts when they decided to legalize gay marriage?"

Done.

(I should set something up so that posts on my other blogs show up here, but I haven't gotten around to it yet. Seems spammy - if the audience for blog A wants to hear about B and C then I wouldn't need three different blogs, would I?)

But then there are times when I'd like to think a post is useful to all my audiences. Over on Commute Smarter I've got Five (More) Things To Do With A Laptop And No Net Connection. This comes on the heels of a popular post that went around the blogs last week about what to do with your PC when your net connection is down, and included things like taking it apart to clean out the dust. Well, I have about 20-30 minutes every day on the train with my laptop, so I can't really take the thing apart. But that doesn't mean I haven't found ways to keep myself busy!

Last night at dinner I was trying to get Katherine to talk about her day. She has a bad habit of asking her mother what they did, and pretending that she's forgotten. In particular we were stuck on what they did for lunch, because Kerry wouldn't tell her and she swore she couldn't remember.

So the conversation went something like this.

"Ok. Let's work our way through the day. What did you have for breakfast?"

"Life cereal."

"And what did you have for snack at school?"

"Daddy, I didn't have snack, but I can tell you what it was. It was Oreo cookies and Pirate Booty."

"And what did you have for lunch?"

"I can't remember."

"Sure you can, you remembered breakfast and snack and those came first."

"Daddy, I have a memory book in my mind but my head forgot to sign it down!"

....Well, that's different.

Wow.  Wow wow wow.  Never before have I been downright infuriated by Scrubs before.  Somehow they managed to turn Kim into the most hated character in the history of the show.  I don't know why.  But I don't like it one bit.  Not gonna spoil it in case people read the quotes before seeing the show, but man, I don't think you're gonna like it either.

Oh really, Donna, I'm ruining the neighborhood?  At least I'm quiet.  Were you guys having sex last night or raping a baboon?
  I wasn't home last night.
My bad.

It's for my retirement, so Enid and I can see the country in luxury.
  So it's wheelchair accessible for her, sir?
Ted, I'm not retiring for at least three years.  If she's still alive, I'll deal with it then.

You smell like my mom.

Dorian!  You have been wrong about so many things that I'm not even gonna say something's "wrong" anymore, I'm going to say it's "Dorian."  And the fact that you'd be willing to skip seeing that child's heart beat for the first time is just plain Dorian.  I mean hell, Jordan's having her second ultrasound and I couldn't be more giddy.  I can't wait to find out the sex of that unborn tax break.
  Jordan doesn't let you know the sex until the baby's born.
Dorian again.    I don't know if it's the hormones or the baby's actually eating the bitch cells, but Jordan has softened.  In fact, last night she asked me to cuddle.

I think not giving you permission to do this for your friend would be totally Dorian.
  How is this spreading so quickly?

Man check!

He can't possibly make this my fault, right?
  Dorian.  Damnit, now I'm doing it.

Your sorority sisters probably loved you.
  Keith, they tried to sell me.

Adios, Pickle.

Woohoo!  I got friends!

Hi cutie.
  Hey.
Oh like there's a chance I meant you.

No, mean's good.  I like mean.

You could find out the sex, not tell Perry, hold it over his head and play him like your little bitch boy.

Perry was so wrong about you.  You're not an idiotic, scalpel-toting, basketball dribbling, blood sugar watching, idiotic manboy.

Carla's got some serious moves.  She can even do an inverted split leg pole spin.  You know, if that's what they're called.  It's not like I took a poledancing course or anything.

Jordan, the boy already lipsynchs into your tampons.  Must we put the final nail in his tiny gay coffin?
  Mama wants that trophy.

That was awesome!  But uncool.

Then I realized that my dad had hugged me at graduation.  Not with his arms, but with his brain.

Excuse me, my mom sleeps with men! I've seen it!

I'll tell you what I was not doing here, I was not taking a nap on company time on Doctor Kelso's mobile home.  Not this guy.  Back to work.
  I don't think he knew we were moving.

So can I stop squeezing out brats, or is it another stupid boy?
  Uh oh.  Excuse me for a second.
Uh oh?  Don't say uh-oh.  Follow him!  He said uh-oh!

Hey wait, no, coming back.  Hello.  Who's making pancakes?
  See?  He's great.

Can I say something?  I don't know this young man.  I wish I did.  I admire his spirit.  And if he says we must continue onward, then I say I am in!

First off, I'm not a neo-natal surgeon.  Second, you ruined my roadtrip.  And you just gave my baby to Rochelle, the only nurse to get kicked out of the nursery for using a baby as a ventriloquist dummy.
   I don't like being spanked!
    That's because you haven't found someone who's doing it right!
Give me that.  What's the matter with you?

Go take care of Doctor Cox.  Tell him Gladys is thinking about him.  He'll know it's me.

Farewell, stranger.  I shall toast you with my heartiest wine.
  Maybe you should lie down.

And you know damn well I would never be that inappropriate.  Thanks, Sugarboobs.

Sir, do you think I know Al Green just because I'm black?
  Plan B.

Bummer.  Now why am I back in here again?
  Because I couldn't wait to rub a little jelly on your treasure trail.

And I could never be mad at Kim for giving me a bad surprise.  Because at least she was straight with me.

Who the hell came up with Pickle?
  I did.  If you call Carla Pickle, I can call Isabella Little Gherkin.  I need this.
Done.

Stop, if it had taken any effort I wouldn't have done it.  I mean it, I really do.

Listen up faces.  In order to save us all some time I will call all the males Daves and all the females Debbies.
 Debbie's actually my real name!
Then out of fairness to the others you will be Slagathor.

(I actually don't mind that goofy bastard.  If he were gay he'd be perfect for my son.  Harrison's been looking for a new power bottom.)

(All my little worker bees buzzing about, buzz, buzz.  I love making that sound.) 

All of you should hear this. I think it was Robin Zander of Cheap Trick who sang, "I want you to want me."  Well if I sang that song it would go, "I don't want you to want me."  (Skiddladee, skiddladoo...)

I understand that since your head wound you've had some short term memory loss.
  Head wound?  Nah, I'm just kidding, doctor...ah, see, now I'm embarrassed because that one's real.
Doesn't matter, son.  (Bob Kelso, write it down, damnit!)

Private Dancer?  Tough name.  You must have had your share of beatdowns.

Iraq?  (You know how controversial that topic is Bob.  Quick, change the subject.)  So, Pluto's not a planet any more, what's up with that?

Oh, that's why we're over there.  Here I thought it was to root out terrorists, or was it for the oil?  Or Mama Hussein's secret falafel recipe?  It's so goshdarn hard to keep track.

The war in Iraq?  Try the war to *see* rack.

Elliot, the only good that's come from our occupation of Iraq is exposing the neoconservative conspiracy to perpetuate American cultural and economic imperialism.

Did you break our pact and start reading the newspaper?

If you get a chance, read the Boondocks.  Man that little kid hates honkies.

I know all about the war.
  Really?  Point to Iraq.
Why do you keep a globe in your janitor cart?
  In case I get lost.  I'll give you a hint, it's not the country shaped like a boot.
That's Iraq.
  That's China.
You're China.

And Johnny's got a tattoo on the same cheek that says Bobby.
  He probably doesn't regret that at all.

I would have asked to be stationed in southeast Asia.  For the food.

Our boys over there are doing the Lord's work.
  And by Lord you mean Halliburton, right?

I think both sides have valid points.
  Way to take a stand, sweat balls.

President Reagan should be on the one dollar bill.
  Oh my god, that's hot.  What do you think about Hillary?
I hate that bitch.

Slaggie, if you want to get people's attention you've got to get more aggressive, or more attractive.  Pick one.

(Well you got what you asked for, Bob.  They don't need you.)

Hey son, how you doing?
  Well, even though no one ever comes every time I hit this nurse's button, I feel a little better.
That's morphine.
  That explains it.

I felt like an idiot so I've been reading up on this Iraq situation.  You know what's so messed up?  I just got to the part where President Bush gave his mission accomplished speech on a battleship, and I've still got like 400 pages to go.

And I can help out Dr. Cox, even though I'd rather punch him in his piss on the government until Jabar's cropdusting my condo with anthrax, NPR Al Franken listening face.

Clean the toilets.  Just tired of staring at that.  Byebye.  I need to Tivo Crossing Over with John Edwards.  I need to turn a cat into a spice rack, and I need to return this thing to the patient in 307.  All doable, don't need ya.

Oh, Nurse Kelso?  Purple's not your color.  Listen, could you go down to housekeeping and maybe send up some fresh scrubs for me.  And psst, come here, please put on a bra.  You're distracting some of the other doctors.

Private, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret.
  That you were never in the war, and Johnny's your husband?
If only.  I love you, Johnny.

My bajingo's on fire.  May 2004.  What's a bajingo?

More Scrubs Quotes

Since I work in Boston, several people have asked me if I'm planning to comment on what's become a national joke.   No links since I don't have the patience to go looking for them and they're easy to find.  In short, Turner put up a bunch of little signs advertising their Aqua Teen Hunger Force character Err, a Mooninite.  Boston thought they were bombs, everybody freaked.  They weren't.  Later we come to find out that they're in cities all over the country, have been for weeks, and nobody else freaked out.  So now Boston is all about who can we arrest and how much can we sue for, because they're embarassed.

I have two thoughts on the subject:

1. I was in Boston all day when this happened.  Took mass transit home.  Know what?  Never heard a thing about it.  So reports of "panic" are greatly exaggerated.
2. This morning on the news they had a shot of one of the signs.  It is made up of little Lite-Brite style LEDs in the shape of a cartoon character.  That character is flipping the middle finger.  The video was of a man (police?) holding the sign during a press conference, so it was moving.  But if you looked really closely you could see that some apparently very cautious censor had superimposed a teeny tiny little blue circle over the middle finger. Think about that.  News video of a press conference of a police officer holding legal evidence that represents a children's cartoon character, and we still feel obliged to censor it.  Yet all of last year on the Today Show every morning you could hear every last little detail about the Duke rape case.  You could ever see the Saddam execution.  I'll never understand that.