Last Thursday the younger boy arrived home from school around 2:30, and the first thing he said to me was, “Are you leaving?” Yes, it was a heartwarming father/son moment, especially considering the fact I hadn’t seen him since the previous Sunday. I’m not proud to admit that it ticked me off.
Today he came in, and I hit him with a preemptive strike: “Don’t worry, I’m leaving in a minute.” His answer? “OK.”
So, there you go. He lands another punch.
But, to be fair, I understand how he feels. Everybody needs a little sliver of alone-time during the day, and his is right after school, before his mother and brother get home. And if I’m sitting there in the middle of it, it throws everything into disarray.
However… he needs to learn the meaning of the word “tact.” He either doesn’t understand the concept, or rejects it. Fourteen year olds are, generally speaking, little shits.
Do you get the right amount of alone-time? Too much is no good, and too little sucks, too. Are you properly calibrated?
I get up around 10:00 or 10:30 when I’m working, and leave at 2:00. So, all that’s free time for me, and I cherish it. I do stuff on my computer, and listen to music. I never turn on the TV, because I’d rather be making an attempt at accomplishment. Even if it’s just a few semi-decent Twitter posts. It’s better than sitting in front of CNN or Maury Povich (is he still alive?), with my mouth hanging open.
Please tell us about your alone-time, if you’re so inclined. Some people say they hate to be alone. That’s not me. I’m a loner by nature. What are your thoughts?
The older boy and I watched Django Unchained last Saturday night. It was like some kind of brutal comic book story, come to life. Everything was over-the-top and crazy, and I enjoyed the hell out of it.
I can’t remember a movie in which people screamed in agony after being shot, like they do in this thing. There’s a lot of screaming, but it’s so exaggerated it becomes funny. And the river of blood that flows through the movie… It’s wild, man. I liked it, even though it was about 40 minutes too long. What did you think?
Oh yeah, and the so-called N-word was used roughly 500 times. Maybe I should count them, and do a WVSR special report?
Please give us your thoughts on Django, if you saw it.
Last weekend all four of us went out to lunch at a Chinese restaurant, where they know us and always seat us at the same table. I like being a regular somewhere… I used to be a regular at several places, but my regularness sphere is shrinking.
Anyway, after we finished eating we went to one of those gigantic craft stores: A.C. Moore or Micheal’s, or whatever. Something needed to be purchased for a school project… Who the hell knows?
I hate those stores. They’re depressing as hell, for some reason. “Crafts” bug me, and I can feel my energy draining from my body as I trudge through one of those places. Ironically, I have the same reaction to “party” stores. They’re supposed to be festive and fun, but a little bit of my soul turns black and falls off every time.
It was super-crowded, too. “What the hell, man?” I said. “I had no idea there was such a market for glitter and Styrofoam balls?”
Toney found what she was looking for, and we took our place at the end of the checkout line. Grrr… It was pandemonium. I told everyone I’d wait for them outside, and the younger boy joined me.
And something happened, the moment we left. I wasn’t there, but Toney reportedly had an altercation with a douchebag buying a birdhouse. Words were exchanged… he called Toney a pain in the ass… Toney questioned his manhood, on account of the birdhouse… It sounded great!
I wouldn’t have been able to keep my temper in check (I’m tightly wound), but things like that rarely happen when the husband/boyfriend is around. Do you ever notice that? Anyway, Toney didn’t need my backup, she handled herself just fine. The older boy was laughing his ass off.
Have you had any altercations in a store lately? Please tell us about it. Also, what places of business make you depressed? Are you with me on the craft and party stores? They’re horrible portals of hell.
Before I call it a day here, I’d like to alert you to the bad drawing of the beer mug to the right. If you click through it, you’ll have the opportunity to give some of your money away! Beer donations are always accepted and encouraged. Thank you in advance.
Also, I have a special treat for you guys: something new from our old friend the Angry White Guy. He posted a rare and longish comment under yesterday’s update, and I don’t want anyone to miss it. Unfortunately, his mother recently passed away, and he has a few things to say on that, and a few other subjects. He’s controversial, as usual. But it wouldn’t be the AWG without the controversy, right? Here’s your link.
Have a great weekend, boys and girls. It’s a beautiful day here, and I might take ol’ Black Lips Houlihan for a walk now.
I’ll see you again on Monday.
Now playing in the bunker
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Tact has no place when you only have a few minutes to roast the weiner.
flog the dolphin
beat the monkey
choke the chicken
tame the ferret
punch the badger
wrangle the equine
assault the aardvark
sting the bee
cacoon the caterpillar
herd the goat
flick the fly
skin the eel
strangle the goose
whip the jackal
massage the magpie
pluck the pheasant
salt the snail
stripe the tiger
wail the wombat
wiggle the worm
make dolly sick
Flog the bishop.
Perform a Manual Override.
.
club the seal
Jerk off your penis
That sounds painful, Lee.
Kmart depresses me. It has an aura of despair. Medical supply stores depress me. Rows of canes and shower chairs. Nice, what a way to make you face the inevitable decline at the end of life. I’ve never been in a confrontation in a store, but I was hit on by an old perv when I was 18–in Kmart.
I get lots of alone time, and I love it. I drive all over the county seeing patients, and I spend half the time listening to NPR and the other half listening to conservative talk radio. The truth is probably somewhere between the two.
I write for pharmaceutical companies for a living – imagine the giant pile of introvert that comes with THAT statement – and cherish the alone time. When other people think ‘Oh. I’m alone for the night!’ they go get some friends and hit to boogie streets, but I just stay in, drink bourbon, and watch ‘Embarrassing Bodies’ on the Web.
Does anyone call it the Web anymore?
Also , GO, Toney!!
Craft stores also depress me. Lots of middle-aged moms painting pre-cut wooden wreaths, gluing plastic berries on them, and thinking it’s art.
I get something like it every Christmas from my uncle’s wife. Fucking horrible, and she’s always so proud of it.
I fucking LOVE hobby stores. I literally love them. I am rooting for the legalization of gay marriage because it will lead to polygamy, which will eventually lead to allowing me to marry a fucking hobby store. I recently found out that my shithole little town is getting both a Joanne’s and a Hobby Lobby. I’ve had to duct tape my permaboner to my leg before leaving the house ever since I got that bit of new.
One of the reasons I like them is because they are usually pretty low in population. They always seem to be in a ghetto-y area of town. I think one of Hobby Lobby’s standard business practices is to find old brown Walmarts and occupy their dead shell building.
I never actually do any crafts, but I like playing with the Styrofoam balls; pretending they are solar system models and what have you. You can find all manner of dowels and straps there. Have you seen their fabric section, oh the pleasant feeling underwear you could make out of all those exotic fabrics.
Django was too long, but it still rocked. Django bounty hunting in Michael’s? Talk about pandemonium! Those scrap bookers, styrofoam ballers and birdhouse buyers would all be screaming.
I took the wife up to Hollywood Casino in Charles Town WV a few years back. I was 4 or 5 slot machines away when my wife got into an altercation with a 330+ pound woman who was trying to play two machines at the same time. Apparently the machine was rest and when my wife went to sit down ‘Aunt Jemima’ decided that as she was already playing the machine on the right that she was entitled to play the newly reset machine as well. By the time i became aware of the altercation my wife was already calling the slot-hog out to settle this old school. I stepped between them as security was approaching. Note: it was a penny slot machine. Big spenders always stand their ground.
Just about any kind of store sets my teeth on edge. I pride myself on getting in and out of stores so fast that it warps the space-time continuum. There’s no way I can just meander up and down the aisles aimlessly looking at things I’m not going to buy.
Being an empty nester, I’m alone a great deal of the time, but I love when my wife goes away. Then I can fart, shit, sit around in my underwear at my leisure.
Been retired since Jan. My wife will be working for at least 4 more years, so I am alone all day every day. I, too, am a loner and don’t mind it one bit. There’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely. I’m never lonely.
I keep busy. Cleaning out my home office, starting a cooking blog, guitar practice plus I’ve started walking every day. And my brother made me join the Elks. *yikes*
I keep a fairly upbeat attitude, I don’t stroll down memory lane too much and I refuse to worry about the future. I feel blessed and I have some little thing to look forward to every single day.
It must seem like a mundane existence to others, but it is just me being me. And I could ended up in much worse shape. Very easily.
No quote today, but a toast: here’s to the simple life.
Oh, wait, how about this…
“Our house is a very very fine house.
With two cats in the yard, life used to be so hard.
Now everything is easy ’cause of you.” CSN ca. 1970
And here’s to you, fellow Surf Reporters.
“Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I’m the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul”
Wake up and smell the cat food
In your bank account.
.
Cartography is not my metier.
If you’re a fan of Huey Lewis, or a fan of Nick Lowe or Elvis Costello, or a fan of the history of rock and blues in the 70s and 80s, you need to listen to Marc Maron’s interview with Huey Lewis. It was just posted a few hours ago, and I found it fascinating.
Actually, even if you’re not a particular fan of Huey’s music, I think you’ll find it hard not to like the guy in this interview. He was born the same year I was (hint: Truman was President), and he’s still out there with an 11-piece band night after night, using no sampling or tape dubs — everything is live. This makes him almost unique among big name touring bands.
Maron is starting to make himself indispensable as an interviewer. It took me a while to warm up to him, but in many ways, he’s setting the standard for what a compelling podcast is.
jtb
Didn’t Huey Lewis play some harp on the first Elvis Costello record? Or am I making up pop music history in my head again?
I think Huey played some harp on the 2nd and 3rd records. Huey’s keyboard player and a couple of the other future News guys backed Elvis on the first record and they told Huey, “Man, you have to come back over here (England) and play with this guy. He’s a little crazy, but he writes brilliant lyrics”.
That’s the way I remember it from the interview.
jtb
I cherish alone time and I never get it. It’s awful. I’m not calibrated at all. The one weekend I was supposed to have the house to myself (Beloved was going on a fishing trip upstate with a buddy). I just settled down to some dumb ass girlie movie when I heard commotion on the front porch. It was the boys back the same day. Turns out his buddy has a whack job of a jealous wife who did a “Sue” – fell down or some shit and made them drive al the way back so he could caress her swollen ass or somesuch.
My next alone time is probably scheduled for 2017.
Pet stores depress the life out of me. I want to take every poor over bred critter home with me.
I had a confrontation last summer. I was walking out of the grocery store with a cart-load. I crossed the parking lot and began walking on the side of the row I was parked in when all of a sudden this asshole in some beat up hoopty turned down the same isle. He drove between me my truck rather than my opposite side, almost clipping me and the cars in that row. I yelled “What the FUCK ASSHOLE!! Are you KIDDING ME??” He parked in the very same row. The girlfriend gets out of the hoopty, sauntering past me says:
“You gotta problem bitch?”
“You fucking almost hit me..that’s my problem”
“Then get out the way…..BITCH”
“Fuck you YOU DIRTY PIG!!”
I was pissed all night over that one. Christ. Can’t even just mind your own business anymore. Go Toney!! Fucking poofter.
I love Hobby Lobby. Great place for home decor, gifts and whatever. I’m not big on “crafts” but I do need to frequent those places to pick up jewelry findings and beads.
It depresses me to go to Walmart. They never have exactly what I’m looking for and if they do…it’s an hour in the only open register out of 25.
“
My problem w hobby lobby and the like is the check out. it is not streamlined and every transaction takes a day and a half.
I agree with the Django assessment. I rented it from redbox. I also posted that it is the least quotable movie ever.
I agree with the kmart assessment also. Those places are depressing as shit.
Today I’ve mowed the lawn, listened to a podcast, lost a part to the lawnmower, and had a serpentine belt break on me (which is only 34 days old).
I never get alone time. Just once I would like to have the house to myself. TJ Maxx is depressing–reminds me of an upscale thrift store.
What is “alone time”? I have a 2 and 4 year old.
Django was entertaining, definitely. I agree that it was too long, but over an hour too long. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was a much better movie and got the story told in 103 minutes.
BTW: Django reminded me of an old Carlos Mencia routine about nigger-in-a-box.
Today’s the DataTater’s annual celebration of birth – so Jeff, I sent you a fancy pants pitcher – raise one for me, would you? And THANK YOU for “a little bit of my soul turns black and falls off every time.”
I’m with you on the creepiness of craft stores. My wife, however, loves them, so I have spent many hours wandering their aisles, trying to find something, anything, to trigger a spark of interest in my brain. So far, it hasn’t happened, although I have unintentionally learned quite a lot about wooden dowels, glue guns and cinnamon-scented pine cones. If Hell turns out to be real, it will be a Hobby Lobby staffed by televangelists.
I’m getting the impression that all “you people” do your retailing while sober. BIG mistake.
Hate all stores (because of the human element) and stay away from them as much as possible. I shop online almost exclusively (except perishables) and of course now the government plans to end my tax break buying everything that way.
Working a rotating shift gives me tons of alone time and I cherish every minute of it.
Betcher ass. I did that for 29 years and never regretted a day of it. Took a huge chunk out of the time I was exposed to ‘polite society’. Turned out to be a big-ass benefit for both sides.
Grocery stores seem to be an endless source of altercations for me. I tend to make comments to people doing stupid shit, especially with food (ie tossing it back onto some randomn shelf like yesterdays garbage).
Any other store with carts would be next up, since my usual snap at people nearly running me over involves their lack of smarts to pilot a simple cart and a dear hope that if they drive a car they don’t drive it like their shopping cart.
I have a lot of alone time. I like it that way. Don’t be too hard on the secret, sounds as though he takes the approach I do; the fewer words the better if I’m not in a chatty mood.
I get a good amount of alone time, and I like it that way. A kid-free house is a huge help in that department. No idea if my calibration is correct or not; I’ve never been willing to spring for the lab.
I pretty much loathe the Wal-Mart’s, and try never to set foot in one. I’m with m on the medical supplies – I’ve never been in a store that only carries this stuff, but I hate the bedpan section of CVS and its ilk.
Craft stores (Michael’s et al) just seem pointless to me. If I’m in the mood to build something, I’ll find more/better/cheaper materials at Home Depot or Read Plastics or digikey.com. I remember a super awesome store from my youth in NYC – Polk’s Toy and Hobby Shop. They had a store in Manhattan with four (or more?) stories of plastic kits, model RR stuff, RC airplane stuff (including multi-cylinder engines!), tools, pieces of brass, balsa, you name it. Another great store is A. L. Kilgo on Sand Island Road in Honolulu. They have building supplies, restaurant supplies, and everything you might need for a boat or marina. That place is a wonderland of fasteners too: brass, galvanized, stainless, zinc plate, aluminum, nylon or stainless? English or metric? Full thread or partial? Slotted, Philips, square, carriage, hex, Allen, or Torx? Was that ISO Philips?
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Today’s article was an alternate universe. It all started when the email version had the badly drawn beer mug on the left. While I’m still trying to figure out if your site has been hacked and this is actually a “do not ever donate” click, I click over to the tab version, and there it is, on the right, just like it oughta be. Some sort of html lysdexia, possibly. However, the oddness continues with several initial comments containing mere phrases about some sort of suspiciously sexually connotated activity. I persevered, however, and finally feel confident enough that I am functioning in one of the more familiar universes that I frequent to make the following comments about alone time.
Obviously, I either need much more or much less than I am getting, and the quality thereof is in question. It’s a long story. Not my blog, so will have to be shortened. However, since my husband became suddenly, irrevocably and totally disabled 9 years ago, alone time is catch as catch can around here, and flexibility remains key. Before my husband became a permanent fixture in the house, my parents moved in next door-because not only am I an only child, I am a retired nurse, so who better to help with my dad, who has dementia? After that, there were the 2 teenage grandchildren that needed a place to finish growing up. And last but not least, my mom passed away suddenly earlier this year, so my husband and I are taking turns at providing 24/7 companionship for my dad, who likes it better at some times than others.
I didn’t go into details there, and I do have a point. That being that alone time must remain fluid. Sometimes it’s just changing your schedule like my husband did so that he is basically a 3rd shift person now. That kind of freed me and him both up to feel like we had some alone time. Worked out great, too, when a sick kid (sick for a long, long time) had to be watched around the clock. So, when everybody is behaving themselves, so to speak, a few moments in your recliner to yourself is what you gladly and gratefully take as alone time. For me, it’s also leaving a few minutes early for school pickup so I can crank up the radio and read while I’m waiting. My husband is so willing to go the grocery store for me that I suspect he is counting that as alone time.
We also have code words when our need for alone time approaches critical mass. For my husband, it’s “rest.” He wants to come over to home from next door, sit in his chair and “rest” for awhile. For me, it’s “sit and stare.” I guess I’m a little more honest about it–I need some time to “sit and stare” over here in my chair. We try our best to accommodate each other. This is much more productive reboot time than the kind where you stand before the medicine cabinet way past your bedtime and basically throw muscle relaxants, pain meds, psych meds–whatever has your name on it–down your throat, until your mind lets go of your body that it has twisted up in knots, and you can sleep all night and awaken refreshed, tho slightly hungover, and start all over again. Fun times.
Sometimes, it almost makes me long for the days when my kids were little, 2 of them in diapers at once, and my alone time consisted of grabbing up the take home dinner my husband had brought in and locking myself in the bathroom, with the exhaust fan on high, and sitting backwards on the toilet so I could use the top of the tank as a table. Almost. Ya take what ya can get. And be grateful for it.
Word to Toney–you go, girl!! And does your older son loom? Mine always did. The kid was born basically a hulk, so by the time he was 12, I could tell him I needed him to loom for me, and off we would go to whatever store I needed to return something to, or fight for my place at the sales table, and there he would be, looming right behind my shoulder, with this, “You’re going to be nice to my mommy, aren’t you?” look on his face. I’m sure your son’s laughing at the whole situation was just as effective. Truly, kids are great to have around…
I’ve always liked being alone. It’s time to relax and think and be creative. My 15YO daughter does too. We also like to be together. Sometimes she’s thrilled when I say I’ll be late home from work and other times she moans that she hasn’t seen me in ages. It’s a nice feeling. When that happens, I get home and am inundated with stories about what happened in class, what funny thing she saw on you tube, and the bands she’s just can’t get enough of. It’s pretty terrific! Our dynamic is different from yours. My husband died 5 years ago so it’s just the two of us and she seems to appreciate that.
My daughter and I saw Django a few months ago in a self-created double bill with Silver Linings Playbook. She loved Silver Linings. I thought it was a very pleasant Disneyfied version of mental illness. Django did float on rivers of blood. I think movies with a lot of killings should be bloody and scream-filled but this bordered on the cartoon. I loved the mulitude of cameos. QT has a habit of putting every 70s character actor in his films and it’s fun to play ‘Who’s That Guy?’ in his movies. I agree it was too long and Kerry Washington had absolutely nothing to do. Christoph Waltz killed as did Leonardo DeCaprio and Dennis Christopher. Samuel L. Jackson pulsated evil which was fun to watch. Not my favorite QT film but I’m glad I saw it. I like your site. Fun!
Folks, the power is off at our house, so there won’t be an update today. Sorry! It’s 90 percent written, but I can’t post it. I’m sending this from my phone. See ya tomorrow.
As part of outprocessing from our rental house, we had to have a bug guy come over and spray a bunch of poison on the ground. He acted exactly how I expected a person who breaths poison all day would act.