If one runs about in the rain with a chair on his head, surely one deserves to be addressed as: "Ya Goof!"
Or maybe not. You decide after you read the following, which I posted at CarePages.com, a site that everyone should know about, because it provides (CarePages' description) "free, easy-to-use Web pages that help family and friends communicate when a loved one is receiving care. It takes just a few minutes to create a CarePage, share it with friends and family, and build a community of support."
I've been following two CarePages for two friends with cancer. One, Karen Eckenrode, died yesterday. Readers of this blog may know her and her wonderfully supportive husband, Ray. All sympathy to all of Karen's loved ones.
Readers may also know the other patient, Doug Rhodes. At CarePages, he creates beautiful and often-funny posts on his progress, with reminders to enjoy each day. Livin', as he says.
Today, Doug, who attends the same church as the YaGoof! goofs, posted that he missed this morning's service. This was my response:
Doug, you didn't miss anything at church this morning. Because the service was down at Camp Blue Diamond!
(Last I knew, there wasn't going to be a service at the church building itself, to encourage everyone to enjoy a change of pace. My apologies if there WAS a service at Hollidaysburg.)
We prayed for you, as always. Pastor Marlys told an inspiring story about a young man she met at M.Div. school--a PhD at 26--whose parents are both mentally handicapped. Have her tell you the rest; she'll do it with much more style than I would. The service concluded with four being baptized in the lake. It was a special time.
The Eldred and Imler families each spent last night in a separate cabin at the Camp; Bonnie and I were at the same training in the Lodge yesterday. We had a fire and made "banana boats." You probably know this recipe from survival training at Parris Island:
1. Take a banana
2. Slit the side
3. Scoop out some of the banana
4. Insert little marshmallows and chocolate chips
5. Wrap the banana in aluminum foil
6. Place the boat on coals to melt the marshmallows and chocolate
7. Pull it out with tongs OR
8. If you're a Marine, just pull it out
9. Remove foil and peel and eat with a spoon OR
10. If you're a Marine, just pop it (hot foil, peel and all) into your mouth
I woke up before everyone else and was showered and relaxing with a book before the rain started. It came down pretty good. I had to jog up to the car holding one of those folding canvas chairs (unfolded, upside-down) over my head for an umbrella, so I could drive down for us to pack up before the service. Another survival school trick (or should be).
A little later in the morning, while Janet got cleaned up, the boys each used the chair-as-umbrella trick as we ran over to the little gazebo in front of the Lodge, where we at a breakfast of cold Pop-Tarts and warm bottled water.
I guess I'm posting this because it's what you're talking about: Livin'. Enjoying the moment. Thank you for all the reminders to do that. God bless.
Aug 27, 2006
Aug 25, 2006
This side up
The DVD player said: This disc cannot be played.
I said: Maybe it just needs to be wiped off.
Emmett said: I'll get it.
I said: Is it shiny side down?
Ethan said: Dad, even Emmett knows that.
Emmett said: Picture side up, right?
Then Emmett ejected the disc.
And he said: Oops.
And he turned the disc picture side up.
And then it worked just fine.
Emmett, Ya Goof!
I said: Maybe it just needs to be wiped off.
Emmett said: I'll get it.
I said: Is it shiny side down?
Ethan said: Dad, even Emmett knows that.
Emmett said: Picture side up, right?
Then Emmett ejected the disc.
And he said: Oops.
And he turned the disc picture side up.
And then it worked just fine.
Emmett, Ya Goof!
And they say you can't get back lost time
Faithful readers of this blog—yes, both of you—will remember that I got my first cell phone at the beginning of June.
May it rest in peace. Three months later, it has been declared dead by TracFone.
The first sign of its demise was last Tuesday, when I was about to make a call and saw that instead of 108 or so minutes available, I had 0.00 minutes.
Shoot! I ran out of air time! That means I've lost my unused minutes. YaGoof!
Or so I thought.
I went online the next day and bought 310 minutes, but the phone didn't let me add them. They TracFone site threw up a screen that apologized for technical difficulites and gave me three pin numbers to use in adding the minutes later.
That evening, I still couldn't add the minutes. I called Technical Support.
I talked to three different people and never got a handle on the accent(s) I was hearing. Support calls are supposed to go to India a lot, but I've heard that Africa is getting in on the action, too. I don't know where in the globe I was.
Anyway, the reps were very, very polite. This was typical: "I need to check on something, Mr. Eldred. May I put you on hold for two minutes?"
"Sure." It's okay when they ask nicely. Even after the sixth time. Given that I wasn't pressed for time, and it was a toll-free call.
The first rep ended up telling me (a) I had a defective phone, so they would send a new one, and (b) I had bought twice as many minutes as I had thought and would be charged twice as much.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." (I hope that was understandable in whatever country the person was in.)
To shorten a story that's familiar to many, the first rep told me I had ordered twice; I said I hadn't; he said they don't give refunds; I asked to talk to his supervisor. I've learned to stay calm during these calls and sometimes you can get satisfaction.
The first rep said, "May I put you on hold for three minutes?" Note: Up from two minutes.
"Sure."
The supervisor finally came on. He agreed that is was possible that the system could have goofed, not me. Imagine that! And he said of course, they could give a refund.
"Did you know the first person I talked to said you don't give refunds?" He smoothly ignored that. Heck, he was the supervisor.
I ended up with credit, who gave me some options. I'm supposed to get a new phone in a few days with my lost 108 minutes and a pre-paid mailer to ship back the deceased unit. I can't complain.
And I thought this entry would be about my losing the minutes and end in my usual way. I was wrong.
But hey, that mistake lets me say ...
Keith, Ya Goof!
May it rest in peace. Three months later, it has been declared dead by TracFone.
The first sign of its demise was last Tuesday, when I was about to make a call and saw that instead of 108 or so minutes available, I had 0.00 minutes.
Shoot! I ran out of air time! That means I've lost my unused minutes. YaGoof!
Or so I thought.
I went online the next day and bought 310 minutes, but the phone didn't let me add them. They TracFone site threw up a screen that apologized for technical difficulites and gave me three pin numbers to use in adding the minutes later.
That evening, I still couldn't add the minutes. I called Technical Support.
I talked to three different people and never got a handle on the accent(s) I was hearing. Support calls are supposed to go to India a lot, but I've heard that Africa is getting in on the action, too. I don't know where in the globe I was.
Anyway, the reps were very, very polite. This was typical: "I need to check on something, Mr. Eldred. May I put you on hold for two minutes?"
"Sure." It's okay when they ask nicely. Even after the sixth time. Given that I wasn't pressed for time, and it was a toll-free call.
The first rep ended up telling me (a) I had a defective phone, so they would send a new one, and (b) I had bought twice as many minutes as I had thought and would be charged twice as much.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." (I hope that was understandable in whatever country the person was in.)
To shorten a story that's familiar to many, the first rep told me I had ordered twice; I said I hadn't; he said they don't give refunds; I asked to talk to his supervisor. I've learned to stay calm during these calls and sometimes you can get satisfaction.
The first rep said, "May I put you on hold for three minutes?" Note: Up from two minutes.
"Sure."
The supervisor finally came on. He agreed that is was possible that the system could have goofed, not me. Imagine that! And he said of course, they could give a refund.
"Did you know the first person I talked to said you don't give refunds?" He smoothly ignored that. Heck, he was the supervisor.
I ended up with credit, who gave me some options. I'm supposed to get a new phone in a few days with my lost 108 minutes and a pre-paid mailer to ship back the deceased unit. I can't complain.
And I thought this entry would be about my losing the minutes and end in my usual way. I was wrong.
But hey, that mistake lets me say ...
Keith, Ya Goof!
Aug 21, 2006
Back from Vermont in ALMOST record time
We made the loooooong drive back from Waterville, Vermont yesterday. Check it out on a map. It's way up at the top of the state. I always shoot to make the trip in ten hours. I've done it once in dozens of voyages.
Yesterday, we would have made it within the magic time limit it not for for—
You know, I really wish I could point the finger at another member of the traveling party here. Naturally, everyone else is the anchor holding us back, wanting to make stops for things like—pah!—food and bathroom breaks. When we could be making time! I kid you not.
But no, the goof in the ointment was moi.
Early in the trip, while taking a pullover jacket off, I snagged my glasses and lost one lens. Well, not the lens, but the fiberglass thread that runs underneath it. The lens support system on that side. Fortunately, I use clip-on sunglasses that I was able to use to hold the lens in place while I drove. God forbid that I trust the schedule to Janet.
But because I had a meeting yesterday evening where it would definitely have looked out of place to wear clip-ons indoors, I had to detour to the Nittany Mall in State College and run into Pearle Vision for a quick fix. It only took twelve minutes, but that made our trip time about 10 hours and nine minutes.
Sigh.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Yesterday, we would have made it within the magic time limit it not for for—
You know, I really wish I could point the finger at another member of the traveling party here. Naturally, everyone else is the anchor holding us back, wanting to make stops for things like—pah!—food and bathroom breaks. When we could be making time! I kid you not.
But no, the goof in the ointment was moi.
Early in the trip, while taking a pullover jacket off, I snagged my glasses and lost one lens. Well, not the lens, but the fiberglass thread that runs underneath it. The lens support system on that side. Fortunately, I use clip-on sunglasses that I was able to use to hold the lens in place while I drove. God forbid that I trust the schedule to Janet.
But because I had a meeting yesterday evening where it would definitely have looked out of place to wear clip-ons indoors, I had to detour to the Nittany Mall in State College and run into Pearle Vision for a quick fix. It only took twelve minutes, but that made our trip time about 10 hours and nine minutes.
Sigh.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Aug 19, 2006
Ah, memories—and lack of memory
I'm blogging from Camp Grammie. That's the period each summer where Ethan and Emmett stay with my parents in Vermont. They've been here for three weeks. Tomorrow we go home.
Janet and I received glowing reports of how the boys were well-behaved and actually worked whenever they were asked. They helped pile about five cords of wood that my parents will burn for heat through the winter. My father bought a load of logs; he and my brother-in-law Curt blocked them up with chain saws; and a friend, Ron Dennison, let them use a gas-powered splitting machine for a day. When I was a kid—cue nostalgic music here—we used a splitting hammer, which is a cross between an axe and a sledge hammer, sometimes using a splitting wedge for the stubborn blocks. The wedge was basically a big squat chisel that you would pound on with the blunt end of the head of the splitting hammer.
Believe it or not, I have fond memories of splitting and stacking wood. I didn't always enjoy the work at the time, but it had a nice rhythm to it. It left me with great mental pictures and sensations: hefting the block into place, setting myself to swing the hammer, bringing it down (sometimes actually in the spot I was aiming for) and feeling the grain pop as the chunks of wood flew apart. I'd toss the chunks aside for Michael (my brother) to pick up—on those rare occasions when he was actually working. Then we would switch places, and I'd pick up the chunks that Michael split, sometimes five or six heavy pieces of wood at a time to cut down on the trips back and forth, enough wood that I couldn't even see over the armload, probably twenty-five or thirty pounds of wood. And coming back and back and back for more. And finally ending up with walls of wood in the correct place that were satisfying to look at.
Anyway, Ethan and Emmett have a lot of cousins to spend time with up here. They swam a lot and played baseball a lot at a field down the road, walking past a dairy farm to get there. The farm is going organic—no chemicals used on fields or in feed—because you get a much better price for milk that way.
Okay, I'm rambling. Here's the YaGoof! part of it. When I dropped the boys off here three weeks ago, I made a note to bring something up on my return trip—a box of the collectible Mr. Potato Head figure whose production I oversaw for New Pig. It was the lastest of our semi-famous promotional items.
But did I actually remember to bring the box? No.
And when I was cleaning the basement last weekend ((I sure could have used the allegedly hard-working pair on leave in Vermont), I boxed up some old bird houses that the boys and I had made when they were in Cub Scouts but that we had never put up. My father has bird houses scattered all over his property in Vermont, so I was going to bring that box with me, too.
But did I remember it? No.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Ah, well. There's always the next trip we make up here. Maybe the next Camp Grammie.
Janet and I received glowing reports of how the boys were well-behaved and actually worked whenever they were asked. They helped pile about five cords of wood that my parents will burn for heat through the winter. My father bought a load of logs; he and my brother-in-law Curt blocked them up with chain saws; and a friend, Ron Dennison, let them use a gas-powered splitting machine for a day. When I was a kid—cue nostalgic music here—we used a splitting hammer, which is a cross between an axe and a sledge hammer, sometimes using a splitting wedge for the stubborn blocks. The wedge was basically a big squat chisel that you would pound on with the blunt end of the head of the splitting hammer.
Believe it or not, I have fond memories of splitting and stacking wood. I didn't always enjoy the work at the time, but it had a nice rhythm to it. It left me with great mental pictures and sensations: hefting the block into place, setting myself to swing the hammer, bringing it down (sometimes actually in the spot I was aiming for) and feeling the grain pop as the chunks of wood flew apart. I'd toss the chunks aside for Michael (my brother) to pick up—on those rare occasions when he was actually working. Then we would switch places, and I'd pick up the chunks that Michael split, sometimes five or six heavy pieces of wood at a time to cut down on the trips back and forth, enough wood that I couldn't even see over the armload, probably twenty-five or thirty pounds of wood. And coming back and back and back for more. And finally ending up with walls of wood in the correct place that were satisfying to look at.
Anyway, Ethan and Emmett have a lot of cousins to spend time with up here. They swam a lot and played baseball a lot at a field down the road, walking past a dairy farm to get there. The farm is going organic—no chemicals used on fields or in feed—because you get a much better price for milk that way.
Okay, I'm rambling. Here's the YaGoof! part of it. When I dropped the boys off here three weeks ago, I made a note to bring something up on my return trip—a box of the collectible Mr. Potato Head figure whose production I oversaw for New Pig. It was the lastest of our semi-famous promotional items.
But did I actually remember to bring the box? No.
And when I was cleaning the basement last weekend ((I sure could have used the allegedly hard-working pair on leave in Vermont), I boxed up some old bird houses that the boys and I had made when they were in Cub Scouts but that we had never put up. My father has bird houses scattered all over his property in Vermont, so I was going to bring that box with me, too.
But did I remember it? No.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Ah, well. There's always the next trip we make up here. Maybe the next Camp Grammie.
Aug 14, 2006
Now THESE are our kind of stories
Click and Clack of Car Talk have a new feature called "Hey, Watch This!" that collects stories of bad, bad moves.
DON'T DO WHAT THESE PEOPLE DID!
Tales like:
Death by fish!
Near-death by tennis ball! And teeter-totter!
Branded by your own glasses!
Fire out the butt!
Arrested on Halloween!
The authors get one collective: Ya Goof!
Aug 9, 2006
A blight on the Dark Knight
All I've ever wanted for my whole entire life was for someone to give me a free Batman shirt. Last week, it finally happened.
"This doesn't fit me any more," my pal Norm said. "Want it?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Fair warning, it needs a good washing."
"No problem! Thanks!"
The shirt immediately hit the laundry table and a few days later came out of the washer and dryer with a load of other dark clothes.
It fit me perfectly! I was an associate scourge on evil! A junior juggernaut against crime! A ...
Hey, what's this near the shoulder? And on the chest?!
Marks! Bleach burns!
I asked Janet about them. Yes, I do laundry (and not very well, I'm told), but I hadn't done this load.
Janet's thought was that while on the laundry table, the shirt must have touched a cloth that had some bleach or cleaner on it.
NOOOOOOOOO!
I can only blame myself for not being more careful. Sigh. Now I can't wear it to church.
Keith, Ya Goof!
"This doesn't fit me any more," my pal Norm said. "Want it?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Fair warning, it needs a good washing."
"No problem! Thanks!"
The shirt immediately hit the laundry table and a few days later came out of the washer and dryer with a load of other dark clothes.
It fit me perfectly! I was an associate scourge on evil! A junior juggernaut against crime! A ...
Hey, what's this near the shoulder? And on the chest?!
Marks! Bleach burns!
I asked Janet about them. Yes, I do laundry (and not very well, I'm told), but I hadn't done this load.
Janet's thought was that while on the laundry table, the shirt must have touched a cloth that had some bleach or cleaner on it.
NOOOOOOOOO!
I can only blame myself for not being more careful. Sigh. Now I can't wear it to church.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Someone's getting a penalty card for this
So this morning I'm watering some plants and probably not too alert yet, and I have to get this lawn chair out of the way. I slide it aside a little bit and from underneath something moves out, and that thing is about as big as a cat and pure black and white. So naturally, my stomach clenches up and I freeze because inside I'm yelling:
SKUNK!!!
But it was just a soccer ball. My heart didn't take toooo long to drop back to its normal rate.
Whichever member of my dear family member left it there, I know you couldn't have known what would happen, but I still have to say to you: Ya Goof!
SKUNK!!!
But it was just a soccer ball. My heart didn't take toooo long to drop back to its normal rate.
Whichever member of my dear family member left it there, I know you couldn't have known what would happen, but I still have to say to you: Ya Goof!
Aug 8, 2006
"Hey, honey: Go fish!"
Here's an emailed post from our new friend Lori!
My husband and I enjoy fishing. We had gone a summer or two ago to Glendale Lake as we do on occasion. This particular day, I had to "go." So he tosses me the keys to the truck so I can find the bathroom up the road.
Turns out after I walk up the little hill where we parked, there was a bathroom right there. So I proceed to throw the keys in my shirt pocket where they'll be safe and walk a little farther to the bathroom. As many of you know, these aren't the hi-tech toilets or anywhere near as clean as home. So, I bend over to lay some TP on the seat and the keys come clanking down hitting the seat, before coming to rest on the floor. UGH! That was a close call!
(YaGoof! says: Lori, Ya Goof!)
So as I am standing there counting my lucky stars that the keys didn't go the other direction, I figure, "OK, why not scare hubby too?" So after I do my business—with the keys in my hand—I leave the "facilities," tuck the keys in my back pocket and return to the fishing area. As I approach, I start telling him that there was a bathroom right here and I didn't need the keys, and good thing too—cause they fell out of my pocket when I bent over to do the TP thing. Well, he saw where I was going with it, and was like "OH, NO!!! Tell me you didn't!!!"
I couldn't keep a straight face long enough to fool him so I admitted having the keys in my pocket. Had I really dropped the keys in the "outhouse," we'd have had to call his dad to bring us the spare keys. I can hear that conversation!!
Anyhow, now I have it hanging over my head. Every so often when we are out, my husband will ask, "Do you have the keys?"—followed by, "Oh, that's right, you're not allowed to have keys."
Thanks, Lori! I feel a little funny mentioning this right now—but you're now entered to win free CHOCOLATE!
My husband and I enjoy fishing. We had gone a summer or two ago to Glendale Lake as we do on occasion. This particular day, I had to "go." So he tosses me the keys to the truck so I can find the bathroom up the road.
Turns out after I walk up the little hill where we parked, there was a bathroom right there. So I proceed to throw the keys in my shirt pocket where they'll be safe and walk a little farther to the bathroom. As many of you know, these aren't the hi-tech toilets or anywhere near as clean as home. So, I bend over to lay some TP on the seat and the keys come clanking down hitting the seat, before coming to rest on the floor. UGH! That was a close call!
(YaGoof! says: Lori, Ya Goof!)
So as I am standing there counting my lucky stars that the keys didn't go the other direction, I figure, "OK, why not scare hubby too?" So after I do my business—with the keys in my hand—I leave the "facilities," tuck the keys in my back pocket and return to the fishing area. As I approach, I start telling him that there was a bathroom right here and I didn't need the keys, and good thing too—cause they fell out of my pocket when I bent over to do the TP thing. Well, he saw where I was going with it, and was like "OH, NO!!! Tell me you didn't!!!"
I couldn't keep a straight face long enough to fool him so I admitted having the keys in my pocket. Had I really dropped the keys in the "outhouse," we'd have had to call his dad to bring us the spare keys. I can hear that conversation!!
Anyhow, now I have it hanging over my head. Every so often when we are out, my husband will ask, "Do you have the keys?"—followed by, "Oh, that's right, you're not allowed to have keys."
Thanks, Lori! I feel a little funny mentioning this right now—but you're now entered to win free CHOCOLATE!
Aug 5, 2006
Unforgettable, that's what YOU are
There have been several new hires where I work, and too often I put off introducing myself. I decided not to make that mistake during a training session that I was delivering the other day. As the room filled with trainees, I stepped up to one man and jauntily offered my hand.
"I don't believe I know you," I said.
He took my hand, but with a look of extreme surprise, and conversation in the room immediately dropped off. Then understanding dawned.
"Omigosh," I said. "Mike!"
I already knew him!
He works in another building, and I rarely see him. I asked if he'd lost weight, and he gamely agreed.
But we were both lying.
It's more likely that this simply marks the start of irreversible mental decline. Not that there's any great height to descend from.
All together now ...
Keith, Ya Goof!
"I don't believe I know you," I said.
He took my hand, but with a look of extreme surprise, and conversation in the room immediately dropped off. Then understanding dawned.
"Omigosh," I said. "Mike!"
I already knew him!
He works in another building, and I rarely see him. I asked if he'd lost weight, and he gamely agreed.
But we were both lying.
It's more likely that this simply marks the start of irreversible mental decline. Not that there's any great height to descend from.
All together now ...
Keith, Ya Goof!
Aug 4, 2006
Bad dog! No Teddy Grahams for you!
Heard this on National Public Radio this morning:
A children's museum in England had almost a million dollars worth of rare teddy bears, including one once owned by Elvis Presley. It was so valuable that the insurance company required guard dogs. Bad idea.
One of the Dobermans went on what museum officials describe as a rampage, shredding hundreds of teddy bears, including the King's—who had his head ripped off. The museum says this is one hound dog that'll be retired to a farm where he can chase real chickens.
To whomever hired this dog, we say: Ya Goof!
A children's museum in England had almost a million dollars worth of rare teddy bears, including one once owned by Elvis Presley. It was so valuable that the insurance company required guard dogs. Bad idea.
One of the Dobermans went on what museum officials describe as a rampage, shredding hundreds of teddy bears, including the King's—who had his head ripped off. The museum says this is one hound dog that'll be retired to a farm where he can chase real chickens.
To whomever hired this dog, we say: Ya Goof!
Jul 31, 2006
This is why we now have to have pre-trip pat-downs
It's time for Camp Grammie. That means taking Ethan and Emmett to my parents' home in Vermont to stay for a few weeks. They get to be spoiled, spend time with cousins and run around the Green Mountains while Janet and I are back here all lonely.
Due to various obligations, Janet didn't come along while I drove the boys up on Saturday and came back on Sunday. After about 200 miles, we gave her a call when we stopped for lunch. Here's a transcript.
Janet: Do you have my car keys?
Keith: Nope.
Janet: What about Emmett? I had him put something in my car just before you left.
Keith: Emmett, do you have Mom's keys?
Emmett: No.
Keith: He doesn't have them.
Janet: Have him check his pockets.
Keith: Emmett, check your pockets.
(rummage, rummage, moment of discovery)
Emmett: Uh ... yeah, I do have them!
Janet found ways to cope.
Emmett, Ya Goof!
Due to various obligations, Janet didn't come along while I drove the boys up on Saturday and came back on Sunday. After about 200 miles, we gave her a call when we stopped for lunch. Here's a transcript.
Janet: Do you have my car keys?
Keith: Nope.
Janet: What about Emmett? I had him put something in my car just before you left.
Keith: Emmett, do you have Mom's keys?
Emmett: No.
Keith: He doesn't have them.
Janet: Have him check his pockets.
Keith: Emmett, check your pockets.
(rummage, rummage, moment of discovery)
Emmett: Uh ... yeah, I do have them!
Janet found ways to cope.
Emmett, Ya Goof!
Jul 24, 2006
More delayed vacation pictures below!
See below for more vacation pictures that I was finally able to get into place! Do it NOW, or you know what I'll have to call you!
Exciting delayed vacation pictures of parts of our van
These pictures are only appearing now because there's something wrong with the host for our site, Blogger.com, when it comes to posting pictures. I was only able to get these in place with a tedious work-around. Imagine hosting somethng like a photography blog here. Major pain.
I've said this before, but I'll say it again: Blogger, Ya Goof!
Anyway ...
So while on vacation, we go to the Crazy Horse Monument in South Dakota, this huge statue being carved out of a granite mountain, and they give away blast fragments. A couple of days later, on the long drive back, I discovered that we were transporting one of the rocks in one of our cupholders. So see where trip memories will linger?
It was Ethan's cupholder, so: Ethan, Ya Goof!
Also, when we were unloading the luggage carrier on top of the van, one of the suitcases slipped and put a scratch in one sliding door.
And who did the suitcase get away from?
Uh ... that would be me. Keith, Ya Goof!
I've said this before, but I'll say it again: Blogger, Ya Goof!
Anyway ...
So while on vacation, we go to the Crazy Horse Monument in South Dakota, this huge statue being carved out of a granite mountain, and they give away blast fragments. A couple of days later, on the long drive back, I discovered that we were transporting one of the rocks in one of our cupholders. So see where trip memories will linger?
It was Ethan's cupholder, so: Ethan, Ya Goof!
Also, when we were unloading the luggage carrier on top of the van, one of the suitcases slipped and put a scratch in one sliding door.
And who did the suitcase get away from?
Uh ... that would be me. Keith, Ya Goof!
Jul 21, 2006
Messing with ya!
This one will make you read an email chain backward!
With all affection, I say to my friend Linda: Ya Goof!
-----Original Message-----
From: Linda and Carl
Sent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:22 PM
To: Keith Eldred
Subject: Re: New email address
And I was feeling like such a capable "techie" because I got this all figured out!!
With all affection, I say to my friend Linda: Ya Goof!
-----Original Message-----
From: Linda and Carl
Sent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:22 PM
To: Keith Eldred
Subject: Re: New email address
And I was feeling like such a capable "techie" because I got this all figured out!!
----- Original Message -----To: Linda and CarlSent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:20 PMSubject: RE: New email addressI was messing with you and out-and-out lying in my reply.How could I reply if I didn't get your original email?This may be YaGoof material ...-----Original Message-----
From: Linda and Carl
Sent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:18 PM
To: Keith Eldred
Subject: Re: New email addressKeith,LInda----- Original Message -----From: Keith EldredTo: Linda and CarlSent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:16 PMSubject: RE: New email addressSorry, I didn't get it.-----Original Message-----
From: Linda and Carl
Sent: Friday, July 21, 2006 3:13 PM
To: Keith Eldred and whole bunch of others
Subject: New email addressHope to hear from you so we know you got this message.Linda
Jul 19, 2006
I brake for fruit!
Here's a story I just heard from my old college roommate, Phil. This took place during his work toward a second degree after graduating with me.
I was really broke. After eating pasta for two weeks straight, I got a paycheck from my part- time IBM job and splurged on groceries. I especially looked forward to a dessert of ice cream and cantaloupe, which was very expensive in the middle of winter.
Driving home in my crappy Volkswagen Beetle, my groceries tipped over. This normally wouldn’t have been an issue. But the week before, my foot went through the floor while I was routing tubing from the heating ducts at the engine up to the front seat, because the normal heat ducts had rusted closed. I looked out the rear view mirror and sure enough, there was my cantaloupe rolling down the street behind me.
I stopped and pulled it out of the ditch, broken but still edible. Dessert had never been so sweet.
Salvaging runaway cantaloupe is one thing. But for leaving groceries the chance to fall out the bottom of your car, we say: Phil, Ya Goof!
I was really broke. After eating pasta for two weeks straight, I got a paycheck from my part- time IBM job and splurged on groceries. I especially looked forward to a dessert of ice cream and cantaloupe, which was very expensive in the middle of winter.
Driving home in my crappy Volkswagen Beetle, my groceries tipped over. This normally wouldn’t have been an issue. But the week before, my foot went through the floor while I was routing tubing from the heating ducts at the engine up to the front seat, because the normal heat ducts had rusted closed. I looked out the rear view mirror and sure enough, there was my cantaloupe rolling down the street behind me.
I stopped and pulled it out of the ditch, broken but still edible. Dessert had never been so sweet.
Salvaging runaway cantaloupe is one thing. But for leaving groceries the chance to fall out the bottom of your car, we say: Phil, Ya Goof!
Jul 9, 2006
Only one trip pic?!
I dunno what's up with Blogger. It let me add the one trip picture below but no others. Maybe this is because we're one the road. I'll try again when we get home.
Blogger—Ya Goof!
Blogger—Ya Goof!
YaGoof! Trip Report (Days 9, 10 and 11)
DAY 9
Today was drive, drive, drive. From Murdo, South Dakota, to Lancaster, Wisconsin. We started the day looking at our maps for points of interest along the route and didn’t find any. We stopped mid-day to refine plans for tomorrow and took longer than expected. We no sooner got back on the road than we discovered that the route holds one of the world’s great attractions! With free admission! But because of our extended stop, we arrived just too late to visit. The best we could do was get this picture outside:
This was the signature goof of the trip. We blame it on the company behind the museum for not starting their billboards much earlier. I think this is the first time we’ve said this to an entire company: Hormel— Ya Goof!
Actually, the boys were just as happy to skip this site. C’mon, guys! Ya Goofs!
DAY 10
We got an early start in order to arrive in Chicago by mid-day to meet up with family friends, Larry and Marlene. Miraculously, we drove to their home without trouble. They treated us to a wonderful lunch at Johnny Rockets, then escorted us to Navy Pier and even pumped fresh quarters into our depleted parking meter. Super hosts.
A double miracle: We got out of Chicago easily, too.
I did manage something of a goof in South Bend, Indiana. We detoured off the interstate to see Touchdown Jesus at Notre Dame. I had in my head that it was a statue, even though I’ve seen it before, many years ago (a faithful YaGoof! reader, Julie White, will remember pointing it out to me). We discovered the mosaic that actually IS Touchdown Jesus, but I said, “Naw, that’s not it.” I stand corrected, as demonstrated in this brief essay about another visit to Notre Dame.
Keith, Ya Goof!
DAY 11
We’re ending our trip on a high note, with a visit to family at their vacation home on Lake Erie, at Catawba Point in Ohio. So far, swimming and ping pong. No goofs to report, but I’m typing this at 4:00 p.m., so there’s still time! Tomorrow: Home again.
Today was drive, drive, drive. From Murdo, South Dakota, to Lancaster, Wisconsin. We started the day looking at our maps for points of interest along the route and didn’t find any. We stopped mid-day to refine plans for tomorrow and took longer than expected. We no sooner got back on the road than we discovered that the route holds one of the world’s great attractions! With free admission! But because of our extended stop, we arrived just too late to visit. The best we could do was get this picture outside:
This was the signature goof of the trip. We blame it on the company behind the museum for not starting their billboards much earlier. I think this is the first time we’ve said this to an entire company: Hormel— Ya Goof!
Actually, the boys were just as happy to skip this site. C’mon, guys! Ya Goofs!
DAY 10
We got an early start in order to arrive in Chicago by mid-day to meet up with family friends, Larry and Marlene. Miraculously, we drove to their home without trouble. They treated us to a wonderful lunch at Johnny Rockets, then escorted us to Navy Pier and even pumped fresh quarters into our depleted parking meter. Super hosts.
A double miracle: We got out of Chicago easily, too.
I did manage something of a goof in South Bend, Indiana. We detoured off the interstate to see Touchdown Jesus at Notre Dame. I had in my head that it was a statue, even though I’ve seen it before, many years ago (a faithful YaGoof! reader, Julie White, will remember pointing it out to me). We discovered the mosaic that actually IS Touchdown Jesus, but I said, “Naw, that’s not it.” I stand corrected, as demonstrated in this brief essay about another visit to Notre Dame.
Keith, Ya Goof!
DAY 11
We’re ending our trip on a high note, with a visit to family at their vacation home on Lake Erie, at Catawba Point in Ohio. So far, swimming and ping pong. No goofs to report, but I’m typing this at 4:00 p.m., so there’s still time! Tomorrow: Home again.
Jul 7, 2006
It's melting! It's meeeeeeeeeelting!
Quick road posting. After lunch at a Burger King with a TCBY inside, Ethan and Emmett emerged with overloaded cones. They could only shrug and say that two scoops was a LOT at that place. We all had to pitch in to lick this problem.
Guys, Ya Goofs!
Guys, Ya Goofs!
YaGoof! Trip Report (Days 6, 7 and 8)
This report on days 6, 7 and 8 is coming on Day 9. I’ve found time to type the reports but not always Internet access.
DAY 6
Not much is open in Des Moines on July 4, at least in the downtown area.
The boys and I drove to West Des Moines and got some things for a picnic. The store had a different kind of cash register: Your cart went off the left while you and your items circled around to the right, meeting up at the end. Way cool.
We ate in a little park with our pastor, Marlys Hershberger, who was at the conference with Janet. We all managed to keep cherry pie off our clothes.
In the evening, we saw the Iowa Cubs (AAA for the Chicago Cubs) play at Principal Park. It was their largest crowd ever at 14, 179, and at the concession stands, it sure felt like it. You could hardly walk through.
And besides Dippin’ Dots, the only ice cream to be had was a Blue Bunny chocolate malt, a frozen shake in a cup that you have to let melt for about 12 innings before you can start mixing it.
And outside the park is a sculpture with a kid apparently about to swing his bat at the catcher.
And between innings, when vehicles circle the field to shoot out T-shirts, a couple ended up at the wall in center and just stayed there throughout the game.
Principal Park people—Ya Goofs!
Actually, it was a decent park, but what can compare to Blair County Ballpark? And the hometown boys won by a healthy margin, ending with a double play.
Happy Birthday, America!
DAY 7
We were shooting to leave town about 10:30 and hit the road right on schedule at noon. Heck, we stopped for lunch even before getting on the Interstate.
Nice job keeping on schedule, Team EEK! Ya Goofs!
Our destination is Mount Rushmore. Our reservation was at a motel about three-quarters of the way there. The billboards across the state are entertaining. It makes it hard to pass up the Corn Palace today and Wall Drug, where we’ll stop tomorrow before Rushmore.
Our motel is a little quirky but nice. The light on a timer in the bathroom is a bit much.
For that, we say: H & H El Centro Best Western people—Ya Goofs!
We had fun throwing a beach ball to a little kid at the pool. Emmett got the kid to bob him (Emmett) in the face over and over with the ball. Good times.
DAY 8
We had a traveler in full teenager mode at being asked to … gasp! … get up. Ethan, Ya Goof!
No continental breakfast in sight this morning. I thought all Best Westerns offered that. H & H El Centro Best Western—Ya Goofs!
Ah, well, that gave an excuse to chow down at world-famous Wall Drug. We spent two hours there.
On to Rushmore. The heads looked smaller than expected. Must be the result of a lifetime of close-up photos.
Ethan was more teenager than ever at being asked to … gasp! … walk here and there at a legendary site. But he came around at Crazy Horse.
Wow. This was all we expected and more, from the excellence of the operation to the beauty of the facility to the grandeur of the sculpture to the expansiveness of the dream, which I hadn’t realized extends even to a university and medical center for Indians. Humbling. This is what inspired the creation of Team EEK! It’s nice to have even that thread of a connection. We even danced together in an Indian dance led by Sidney (Shoot, I wish I could remember his last name. It ends in— well. He was once the International War Dance Champion.)
Of all sites of national importance, I put this second only to the memorials at Washington, DC. If you don’t have it on your list of places to visit—well, I don’t want to call it a goof. I just urge you to put it on your list of places to visit!
Leaving Rapid City, I was pulled over for speeding. Keith, Ya Goof!
But I’ve never met a more pleasant and professional officer. I received a warning.
Janet made an excellent call in asking for a return trip through Badlands National Park. I had been more interested in making time back across South Dakota. I was wrong. It’s unforgettable. “Badlands” is exactly the right term for land as harsh and sandy, and yet the vistas are beautiful.
Plus prairie dogs!
For Ethan-like resistance to taking that routine, Keith gets a loud: Ya Goof!
DAY 6
Not much is open in Des Moines on July 4, at least in the downtown area.
The boys and I drove to West Des Moines and got some things for a picnic. The store had a different kind of cash register: Your cart went off the left while you and your items circled around to the right, meeting up at the end. Way cool.
We ate in a little park with our pastor, Marlys Hershberger, who was at the conference with Janet. We all managed to keep cherry pie off our clothes.
In the evening, we saw the Iowa Cubs (AAA for the Chicago Cubs) play at Principal Park. It was their largest crowd ever at 14, 179, and at the concession stands, it sure felt like it. You could hardly walk through.
And besides Dippin’ Dots, the only ice cream to be had was a Blue Bunny chocolate malt, a frozen shake in a cup that you have to let melt for about 12 innings before you can start mixing it.
And outside the park is a sculpture with a kid apparently about to swing his bat at the catcher.
And between innings, when vehicles circle the field to shoot out T-shirts, a couple ended up at the wall in center and just stayed there throughout the game.
Principal Park people—Ya Goofs!
Actually, it was a decent park, but what can compare to Blair County Ballpark? And the hometown boys won by a healthy margin, ending with a double play.
Happy Birthday, America!
DAY 7
We were shooting to leave town about 10:30 and hit the road right on schedule at noon. Heck, we stopped for lunch even before getting on the Interstate.
Nice job keeping on schedule, Team EEK! Ya Goofs!
Our destination is Mount Rushmore. Our reservation was at a motel about three-quarters of the way there. The billboards across the state are entertaining. It makes it hard to pass up the Corn Palace today and Wall Drug, where we’ll stop tomorrow before Rushmore.
Our motel is a little quirky but nice. The light on a timer in the bathroom is a bit much.
For that, we say: H & H El Centro Best Western people—Ya Goofs!
We had fun throwing a beach ball to a little kid at the pool. Emmett got the kid to bob him (Emmett) in the face over and over with the ball. Good times.
DAY 8
We had a traveler in full teenager mode at being asked to … gasp! … get up. Ethan, Ya Goof!
No continental breakfast in sight this morning. I thought all Best Westerns offered that. H & H El Centro Best Western—Ya Goofs!
Ah, well, that gave an excuse to chow down at world-famous Wall Drug. We spent two hours there.
On to Rushmore. The heads looked smaller than expected. Must be the result of a lifetime of close-up photos.
Ethan was more teenager than ever at being asked to … gasp! … walk here and there at a legendary site. But he came around at Crazy Horse.
Wow. This was all we expected and more, from the excellence of the operation to the beauty of the facility to the grandeur of the sculpture to the expansiveness of the dream, which I hadn’t realized extends even to a university and medical center for Indians. Humbling. This is what inspired the creation of Team EEK! It’s nice to have even that thread of a connection. We even danced together in an Indian dance led by Sidney (Shoot, I wish I could remember his last name. It ends in— well. He was once the International War Dance Champion.)
Of all sites of national importance, I put this second only to the memorials at Washington, DC. If you don’t have it on your list of places to visit—well, I don’t want to call it a goof. I just urge you to put it on your list of places to visit!
Leaving Rapid City, I was pulled over for speeding. Keith, Ya Goof!
But I’ve never met a more pleasant and professional officer. I received a warning.
Janet made an excellent call in asking for a return trip through Badlands National Park. I had been more interested in making time back across South Dakota. I was wrong. It’s unforgettable. “Badlands” is exactly the right term for land as harsh and sandy, and yet the vistas are beautiful.
Plus prairie dogs!
For Ethan-like resistance to taking that routine, Keith gets a loud: Ya Goof!
Jul 4, 2006
YaGoof! Trip Report (Day 5)
Happy Independence Day from the road.
Des Moines picks up a little on Monday morning. There's traffic.
Janet performed church conference duties. The boys and I went to the Science Center. It's a lot like the Carnegie Science Center, including its IMAX Theater. If I understand correctly, a membership in either one is good for admission at the other, as well as 270 other science centers in the U.S.
The worst hardships we suffered today were sections of the skywalk where there's no air conditioning. Come on, Skywalk people, we need climate control! Ya Goofs!
This was our first experience with a skywalk, though we've seen something similar in State College. This article tells us that the Des Moines Skywalk involves 27 city blocks and that Pittsburgh has one, too.
Des Moines picks up a little on Monday morning. There's traffic.
Janet performed church conference duties. The boys and I went to the Science Center. It's a lot like the Carnegie Science Center, including its IMAX Theater. If I understand correctly, a membership in either one is good for admission at the other, as well as 270 other science centers in the U.S.
The worst hardships we suffered today were sections of the skywalk where there's no air conditioning. Come on, Skywalk people, we need climate control! Ya Goofs!
This was our first experience with a skywalk, though we've seen something similar in State College. This article tells us that the Des Moines Skywalk involves 27 city blocks and that Pittsburgh has one, too.
Jul 2, 2006
YaGoof! Trip Report (Days 3 and 4)
The posts of the trip so far are way too long! Agh! The cyber-equivalent of trip slides!
Keith, Ya Goof!
DAY 3
A short drive to Springfield, Illinois.
Fantastic museum honoring Abraham Lincoln, with state-of-the-art theatre shows that are Disney quality.
We lost track of Emmett for about 20 minutes, enough time that we had security looking for him. When he turned up, he hadn't known he was lost.
About ten minutes later, we lost track of Janet. She lingered too long looking at these gowns owned by Mary Todd Lincoln.
Emmett, Janet—Ya Goofs!
We also saw Lincoln's law office and the home where he accepted the nomination for president. It was an honor to be in both places.
We saw the most complete Frank Lloyd Wright home in the world. The boys thought it a big drag when we entered, but ended up glad to see things like a lamp made for the home, sold at auction and bought back years later for $700,000! Emmett was beside the lamp at the time. I took his arm and steered him away from it.
Ethan, Emmett—told ya this was a good site to visit, Ya Goofs!
We used a very badly-done map to find a movie theater just in time to see "Superman Returns." Our collective review: 3.5 stars. It has plenty of plot holes, but the strengths (pun intended) are the casting of Superman, the action sequences nicely contrasted by quiet and romantic moments, and the story that has a true challenge for Superman.
Bryan Singer, great job overall, but because of the plot holes: Ya Goof!
DAY 4
This trip was built around a church conference where Janet is a delegate. After a rather leisurely morning, Janet realized that she was due in Des Moines earlier than we thought, and we didn't have a minute to spare. MapQuest estimated the trip at five-and-a-half hours. We made it in four-and-a-half.
Janet, Ya Goof!
While Janet started her delegate duties, we figured out where to park for the hotel. It only took three trips around the same block and one instance of driving on the wrong side of the yellow lines.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Des Moines, is VERY quiet on a Sunday. One illustration: We sat at red light looking at a map and stayed there when it turned green because there was no one behind us. It turned red and green again, still with no one behind us.
The conference center, several hotels and other downtown sites are connected by an elevated tunnel called the Skywalk. Naturally, I started referring to everyone in our party as "Skywalker." At first, Ethan didn't get it.
Ethan, Ya Goof!
Keith, Ya Goof!
DAY 3
A short drive to Springfield, Illinois.
Fantastic museum honoring Abraham Lincoln, with state-of-the-art theatre shows that are Disney quality.
We lost track of Emmett for about 20 minutes, enough time that we had security looking for him. When he turned up, he hadn't known he was lost.
About ten minutes later, we lost track of Janet. She lingered too long looking at these gowns owned by Mary Todd Lincoln.
Emmett, Janet—Ya Goofs!
We also saw Lincoln's law office and the home where he accepted the nomination for president. It was an honor to be in both places.
We saw the most complete Frank Lloyd Wright home in the world. The boys thought it a big drag when we entered, but ended up glad to see things like a lamp made for the home, sold at auction and bought back years later for $700,000! Emmett was beside the lamp at the time. I took his arm and steered him away from it.
Ethan, Emmett—told ya this was a good site to visit, Ya Goofs!
We used a very badly-done map to find a movie theater just in time to see "Superman Returns." Our collective review: 3.5 stars. It has plenty of plot holes, but the strengths (pun intended) are the casting of Superman, the action sequences nicely contrasted by quiet and romantic moments, and the story that has a true challenge for Superman.
Bryan Singer, great job overall, but because of the plot holes: Ya Goof!
DAY 4
This trip was built around a church conference where Janet is a delegate. After a rather leisurely morning, Janet realized that she was due in Des Moines earlier than we thought, and we didn't have a minute to spare. MapQuest estimated the trip at five-and-a-half hours. We made it in four-and-a-half.
Janet, Ya Goof!
While Janet started her delegate duties, we figured out where to park for the hotel. It only took three trips around the same block and one instance of driving on the wrong side of the yellow lines.
Keith, Ya Goof!
Des Moines, is VERY quiet on a Sunday. One illustration: We sat at red light looking at a map and stayed there when it turned green because there was no one behind us. It turned red and green again, still with no one behind us.
The conference center, several hotels and other downtown sites are connected by an elevated tunnel called the Skywalk. Naturally, I started referring to everyone in our party as "Skywalker." At first, Ethan didn't get it.
Ethan, Ya Goof!
YaGoof! Trip Report (Days 1 and 2)
The YaGoof! team is traveling this week. But we’re still blogging (a) because we brought along our laptop and (b) because 75% of the YaGoof! team likes to sleep in, so the remaining 25% can use the time here.
If there were not those hidden benefits for the rest of us, I would ordinarily say to anyone who sleeps in: Ya Goof!
DAY 1
We aimed to get going at noon and left right on schedule at 2:00.
Ethan had a sketch pad with him, as well as some markers. He lost no time in creating a sign to put in a side window. Yes, he also brought tape to mount the sign.
Ethan, Ya Goof!
We made our way to Wooster, Ohio, to stay overnight. The morning would bring exciting stops like the Cats Meow Village, where they make those way cool-knick-knacks, and Simply Smuckers, the store at the world headquarters of Smuckers in nearby Orrville. There’s also rumored to be this special spot: a cow on top of a water tower.
We didn’t have motel reservations in this area, and the first place we stopped had no vacancy. The sun was setting, so this provided an anxiety rush for part of the party!
Note: Do you worry too much? Then I say: Ya Goof!
The next motel did have vacancy. And it offers a free hot breakfast! Whew!
We lit out to try to catch a showing of “Superman Returns.” This town is kind of an in-between size, and the motel didn’t have a newspaper with show times, and the theater didn’t answer their phone, so we just drove out to find it with the motel’s directions. Much driving about in two shopping centers on either side of the road ensued. Samples of conversation during the trip:
SAMPLE 1
Janet: Watch! Watch! (This is what she says whenever I’m about to hit something with the car. In this case, it was a good call. I stomped on the brake just before smacking into a little red car past a stop sign that I hadn’t seen)
Kids: Dad, Ya Goof!
SAMPLE 2
Me (to a man about to enter his car): Excuse me, is there a movie theater around here?
Man: There sure is. (pause)
Me: (Thinking: Dang these brief-spoken Ohioans!) Will you tell me where it is?
He gave me directions. We had been very close. All of the driving had been in vain. The next showing wasn’t for over an hour, and that would be too late. We went back to the hotel for a brief swim in their nice little pool and then some viewing of “Animal Planet.” We watched a guy taken off in handcuffs for neglecting his dogs. They were skinny and full of sores.
If you mistreat your animal, we say: Ya Goof! (In the interest of full disclosure, I admit to often suggesting to our dog and to others that he is as dumb as a rock, something which could be construed as mistreatment, but I hasten to add, could also be construed as grudging affection.)
One final note about Wooster: Some tornadoes touched down around here recently. At first, we noticed piles of brush in front of dozens of houses, and then we noticed that some of the piles were pretty big. Then we noticed lots of broken branches, and then we were in the real storm zone. We spoke to one man with a very big tree toppled in his yard. He said that wind shear took hundreds of trees in all. We took a picture at his house, as well as at the nearby golf course.
Wow.
Apologies for the poor pictures. When you don’t know how to get good shots out of your own camera, you deserve to hear: “Ya Goof!”
YaGoof! Trip Report: DAY 2
Make a note: The Best Western in Wooster is clean, attractive, gives a good breakfast and has helpful staff.
Highlights of the morning:
We found the Smuckers gift shop, Simply Smuckers, after driving about twenty miles, even though it was only about ten miles away (we came to find out after some mis-driving). Ethan in particular was less than thrilled to be there.
We found Cat’s Meow Village with much less trouble. Quite the business, but I’d like to point out that it’s very easy to go in the wrong door and find out that it’s the exit.
It took quite a bit more driving to find an ice cream shop called SSScoops. A fifties-style place that used the name “SuperFriends” for the flavor “Crazy Vanilla.”
Exciting stuff, followed by lots and lots of driving. We got off course a couple times and lost about forty-five minutes in all getting back on course.
However, one wrong turn in Bucyrus, Ohio, led us to take pictures at a very cool mural that we found out was created by this artist.
After that, the only highlight was stopping at a place that has an impressive billboard that turned out to be false in three key ways:
1.Low price for fuel! (Except the advertised price turns out to be for diesel.)
2.Use any credit card! (As long as it’s MasterCard or Visa!)
3. Clean restrooms! (Not.)
But they did have gas and fast pumps and provided handy parking for the Burger King next door. This one happened to offer a very good Veggie Burger.
We ended up in Danville, Illinois, a town that's not very big but whose high school has a heck of hall of fame with members including Dick and Jerry Van Dyke, Donald O’Connor, Gene Hackman, and Paul Hawkins, the man who created the Good Humor ice cream truck.
If you’re on vacation today and will take a wrong turn, we affectionately say: Ya Goof!
If there were not those hidden benefits for the rest of us, I would ordinarily say to anyone who sleeps in: Ya Goof!
DAY 1
We aimed to get going at noon and left right on schedule at 2:00.
Ethan had a sketch pad with him, as well as some markers. He lost no time in creating a sign to put in a side window. Yes, he also brought tape to mount the sign.
Ethan, Ya Goof!
We made our way to Wooster, Ohio, to stay overnight. The morning would bring exciting stops like the Cats Meow Village, where they make those way cool-knick-knacks, and Simply Smuckers, the store at the world headquarters of Smuckers in nearby Orrville. There’s also rumored to be this special spot: a cow on top of a water tower.
We didn’t have motel reservations in this area, and the first place we stopped had no vacancy. The sun was setting, so this provided an anxiety rush for part of the party!
Note: Do you worry too much? Then I say: Ya Goof!
The next motel did have vacancy. And it offers a free hot breakfast! Whew!
We lit out to try to catch a showing of “Superman Returns.” This town is kind of an in-between size, and the motel didn’t have a newspaper with show times, and the theater didn’t answer their phone, so we just drove out to find it with the motel’s directions. Much driving about in two shopping centers on either side of the road ensued. Samples of conversation during the trip:
SAMPLE 1
Janet: Watch! Watch! (This is what she says whenever I’m about to hit something with the car. In this case, it was a good call. I stomped on the brake just before smacking into a little red car past a stop sign that I hadn’t seen)
Kids: Dad, Ya Goof!
SAMPLE 2
Me (to a man about to enter his car): Excuse me, is there a movie theater around here?
Man: There sure is. (pause)
Me: (Thinking: Dang these brief-spoken Ohioans!) Will you tell me where it is?
He gave me directions. We had been very close. All of the driving had been in vain. The next showing wasn’t for over an hour, and that would be too late. We went back to the hotel for a brief swim in their nice little pool and then some viewing of “Animal Planet.” We watched a guy taken off in handcuffs for neglecting his dogs. They were skinny and full of sores.
If you mistreat your animal, we say: Ya Goof! (In the interest of full disclosure, I admit to often suggesting to our dog and to others that he is as dumb as a rock, something which could be construed as mistreatment, but I hasten to add, could also be construed as grudging affection.)
One final note about Wooster: Some tornadoes touched down around here recently. At first, we noticed piles of brush in front of dozens of houses, and then we noticed that some of the piles were pretty big. Then we noticed lots of broken branches, and then we were in the real storm zone. We spoke to one man with a very big tree toppled in his yard. He said that wind shear took hundreds of trees in all. We took a picture at his house, as well as at the nearby golf course.
Wow.
Apologies for the poor pictures. When you don’t know how to get good shots out of your own camera, you deserve to hear: “Ya Goof!”
YaGoof! Trip Report: DAY 2
Make a note: The Best Western in Wooster is clean, attractive, gives a good breakfast and has helpful staff.
Highlights of the morning:
We found the Smuckers gift shop, Simply Smuckers, after driving about twenty miles, even though it was only about ten miles away (we came to find out after some mis-driving). Ethan in particular was less than thrilled to be there.
We found Cat’s Meow Village with much less trouble. Quite the business, but I’d like to point out that it’s very easy to go in the wrong door and find out that it’s the exit.
It took quite a bit more driving to find an ice cream shop called SSScoops. A fifties-style place that used the name “SuperFriends” for the flavor “Crazy Vanilla.”
Exciting stuff, followed by lots and lots of driving. We got off course a couple times and lost about forty-five minutes in all getting back on course.
However, one wrong turn in Bucyrus, Ohio, led us to take pictures at a very cool mural that we found out was created by this artist.
After that, the only highlight was stopping at a place that has an impressive billboard that turned out to be false in three key ways:
1.Low price for fuel! (Except the advertised price turns out to be for diesel.)
2.Use any credit card! (As long as it’s MasterCard or Visa!)
3. Clean restrooms! (Not.)
But they did have gas and fast pumps and provided handy parking for the Burger King next door. This one happened to offer a very good Veggie Burger.
We ended up in Danville, Illinois, a town that's not very big but whose high school has a heck of hall of fame with members including Dick and Jerry Van Dyke, Donald O’Connor, Gene Hackman, and Paul Hawkins, the man who created the Good Humor ice cream truck.
If you’re on vacation today and will take a wrong turn, we affectionately say: Ya Goof!
Jun 29, 2006
Attack Ads: That's what we wanna do today
This store flyer caught my eye while going through the paper this morning.
"Quick!" I said to Ethan. "What store is this from?" I covered up the store logo.
"Target," he said.
"Bzzzzzt! Wrong answer!"
But that's exactly what I expected him to say. Doesn't it make you think of the Target logo?
Here's a shot of the whole flyer cover:
That's what I call an advertising goof.
A lot like what happened last night on the episode of Mythbusters (a fun and educational show) that we were watching: The show sponsor was Ford, but the Mythbusters spent the whole show chasing after a 1967 Impala that they wanted to strap some rockets to (long story), and the show even included a vintage Impala TV commercial. Ford has to love the fact that they sponsored a Chevy ad.
"Quick!" I said to Ethan. "What store is this from?" I covered up the store logo.
"Target," he said.
"Bzzzzzt! Wrong answer!"
But that's exactly what I expected him to say. Doesn't it make you think of the Target logo?
Here's a shot of the whole flyer cover:
That's what I call an advertising goof.
A lot like what happened last night on the episode of Mythbusters (a fun and educational show) that we were watching: The show sponsor was Ford, but the Mythbusters spent the whole show chasing after a 1967 Impala that they wanted to strap some rockets to (long story), and the show even included a vintage Impala TV commercial. Ford has to love the fact that they sponsored a Chevy ad.
Jun 22, 2006
Seven minutes too late
Things didn't go as planned tonight. I missed visiting hours at the prison.
A couple of months ago, I would never have written that sentence. That was before a friend of mine was arrested on some serious charges. Since then, I've learned the basics of visiting at the prison: That you need to be on the inmate's visitor's list; that different cell blocks have different schedules; that you need to show a picture ID at each visit; that you can't bring a cell phone into the prison.
There are lockers in the lobby where you can put the contents of your pockets; the locker key must be the only thing in your pocket when you enter the visiting area. The booths are just like you see on TV. You're on the other side of thick glass, and you talk through telephones with lousy sound. You sit on stainless steel. On the other side, there's a lot more stainless steel, and a lot more restrictions, naturally. That's what prison is.
But it hits home in a new way when you see how how hungry an inmate is for a visit, as well as for mail, and of course that's only the beginning of the limits he's under. I schedule one or two visits a week; there are limited evening hours and none on the weekend.
I had reminded myself about the vist often throughout the day. I even set the alarm on my cell phone. The timing would work out perfectly, unlike so many days during baseball season. Ethan didn't have a game. Emmett's game was at 7:00; I'd drop him off a little before 6:00, then go straight up to the prison.
But as the time drew near, I simply forgot about the prison until there were only a few minutes until 6:00. I jumped in the car with a slim chance of making it—until I realized that I didn't have my license (you have to supply a picture ID, remember?). I turned back to get it and didn't reach the prison until about 6:07. The guard on duty didn't buzz me through the front door. She apologized and said I'd have to come back another time—but next time before the hour. I turned on my heel to go.
Restricitions. Even visitors face them.
Still, I should have been on time, so ... Keith, Ya Goof!
A couple of months ago, I would never have written that sentence. That was before a friend of mine was arrested on some serious charges. Since then, I've learned the basics of visiting at the prison: That you need to be on the inmate's visitor's list; that different cell blocks have different schedules; that you need to show a picture ID at each visit; that you can't bring a cell phone into the prison.
There are lockers in the lobby where you can put the contents of your pockets; the locker key must be the only thing in your pocket when you enter the visiting area. The booths are just like you see on TV. You're on the other side of thick glass, and you talk through telephones with lousy sound. You sit on stainless steel. On the other side, there's a lot more stainless steel, and a lot more restrictions, naturally. That's what prison is.
But it hits home in a new way when you see how how hungry an inmate is for a visit, as well as for mail, and of course that's only the beginning of the limits he's under. I schedule one or two visits a week; there are limited evening hours and none on the weekend.
I had reminded myself about the vist often throughout the day. I even set the alarm on my cell phone. The timing would work out perfectly, unlike so many days during baseball season. Ethan didn't have a game. Emmett's game was at 7:00; I'd drop him off a little before 6:00, then go straight up to the prison.
But as the time drew near, I simply forgot about the prison until there were only a few minutes until 6:00. I jumped in the car with a slim chance of making it—until I realized that I didn't have my license (you have to supply a picture ID, remember?). I turned back to get it and didn't reach the prison until about 6:07. The guard on duty didn't buzz me through the front door. She apologized and said I'd have to come back another time—but next time before the hour. I turned on my heel to go.
Restricitions. Even visitors face them.
Still, I should have been on time, so ... Keith, Ya Goof!
Here's what happens to a neck if you pullet
Team EEK! pal David answered Emmett's chicken story with one of his own:
When I was about seven years old, we got some chicks at Easter. We kept them in a cage, and of course they got bigger until my parents started telling me they would have to go.
"No way!" That was my answer. I even took my chicken into the bathroom with me. I kept hold of his neck—switching hands as needed!
One day, I was taking the chicken into the bathroom, and my parents said, "Come on, give us the chicken." They reached for it, but I moved it away. They reached again, and I moved the chicken the other way. "No, no! You're not taking him!" As I moved the chicken this way and that, the head goes one way, and the body goes the other. My parents finally said, "Fine. Keep him."
But it wasn't long before the chickens got bigger yet and went to a friend of ours who worked in a zoo. This zoo actually kept chickens on display. After some time passed, my mom asked how they were doing.
"They're fine!" the lady said, "But there's something funny about this one. It has a really long, crooked neck!"
Dave, Ya Chicken-Neck-Stretchin' Goof!
When I was about seven years old, we got some chicks at Easter. We kept them in a cage, and of course they got bigger until my parents started telling me they would have to go.
"No way!" That was my answer. I even took my chicken into the bathroom with me. I kept hold of his neck—switching hands as needed!
One day, I was taking the chicken into the bathroom, and my parents said, "Come on, give us the chicken." They reached for it, but I moved it away. They reached again, and I moved the chicken the other way. "No, no! You're not taking him!" As I moved the chicken this way and that, the head goes one way, and the body goes the other. My parents finally said, "Fine. Keep him."
But it wasn't long before the chickens got bigger yet and went to a friend of ours who worked in a zoo. This zoo actually kept chickens on display. After some time passed, my mom asked how they were doing.
"They're fine!" the lady said, "But there's something funny about this one. It has a really long, crooked neck!"
Dave, Ya Chicken-Neck-Stretchin' Goof!
Jun 20, 2006
Who's Up for a Chicken Run?
Emmett brought home a friend today. Her name is Henrietta. Emphasis on "Hen." Here's a picture of them together:
Here's an explanation from Emmett, in his own words:
There's this one class at ATOMS Camp (Science Camp) called "Bees and Other Neat Creatures." The teacher gave us the chance to take home either a guinea pig or a chicken. The guinea pigs were all taken, so I got stuck with a chicken. (No offense, all chickens who are reading this.)
By the way, the first day of camp, a different chicken pooped on my shirt while I was holding it.
Anyway, after Camp, when I was waiting for Mom to pick me up, Henrietta escaped from her box. For about five minutes, fifteen people chased after her. Finally, one woman captured Henrietta; she grabbed the box and scooped her up. Then I started walking home.
In front of the elementary school, Henrietta escaped again. I chased it for about ten minutes when another woman came along, and we trapped Henrietta. The woman asked where I got Henrietta, and I explained that she was a science project.
I had no problems the rest of the way back, but before I crossed Penn Street (the main street through town), I whispered to Henrietta, "If there was ever a time not to break free, this is it." When I was on Allegheny Street, Mom finally pulled up. She had gone down to the High School to pick me up and finally found me.
When I got Henrietta home, I made sure she stayed in her box by weighing down its flaps with two books and my Gameboy. We gave her some water out of a cup. I'm not sure what to feed her.
Thanks, Emmett. Now let's recognize some people who make this post possible:
For pooping on Emmett ... Chicken #1, Ya Goof!
For losing Henrietta (twice!) ... Emmett, Ya Goof!
But most of all, for not supplying a nice chicken transport box with a lid ... To the teacher of "Bees and Other Neat Creatures," we say ... Ya Goof!!
Here's an explanation from Emmett, in his own words:
There's this one class at ATOMS Camp (Science Camp) called "Bees and Other Neat Creatures." The teacher gave us the chance to take home either a guinea pig or a chicken. The guinea pigs were all taken, so I got stuck with a chicken. (No offense, all chickens who are reading this.)
By the way, the first day of camp, a different chicken pooped on my shirt while I was holding it.
Anyway, after Camp, when I was waiting for Mom to pick me up, Henrietta escaped from her box. For about five minutes, fifteen people chased after her. Finally, one woman captured Henrietta; she grabbed the box and scooped her up. Then I started walking home.
In front of the elementary school, Henrietta escaped again. I chased it for about ten minutes when another woman came along, and we trapped Henrietta. The woman asked where I got Henrietta, and I explained that she was a science project.
I had no problems the rest of the way back, but before I crossed Penn Street (the main street through town), I whispered to Henrietta, "If there was ever a time not to break free, this is it." When I was on Allegheny Street, Mom finally pulled up. She had gone down to the High School to pick me up and finally found me.
When I got Henrietta home, I made sure she stayed in her box by weighing down its flaps with two books and my Gameboy. We gave her some water out of a cup. I'm not sure what to feed her.
Thanks, Emmett. Now let's recognize some people who make this post possible:
For pooping on Emmett ... Chicken #1, Ya Goof!
For losing Henrietta (twice!) ... Emmett, Ya Goof!
But most of all, for not supplying a nice chicken transport box with a lid ... To the teacher of "Bees and Other Neat Creatures," we say ... Ya Goof!!
Jun 19, 2006
No contest! Really: No contest!
Here’s an email from my cousin Emily in Vermont, who emailed me last week asking for a copy of our Jimmy Gimmy book to use as a prize for a bubble-blowing contest at a church event—as well as for information on how to run the contest the same way she had seen us run one at a town festival called Old Home Day. The point of the story is: If you are even thinking about running a bubble-blowing contest voluntarily, we must say to you: Ya Goof!
Dear Keith and Family,
The contest was great!
“Sign up for the Bubble Gum Contest right here!” I said. Every little person age three and up wrote their names as best as they could and then hovered around me to start the contest. “You have to stand back and form and line,” I said, remembering the very organized way you ran the contest at Old Home Day.
“Everyone needs gum!” I said. Heads dropped immediately and eyes locked in on the bag of Dubble Bubble lying on the floor. I handed out the gum, telling contestants that they had to get the gum nice and soft, so: “Chew,chew,chew!”
I called on the first contestant. A bright young girl. She was the daughter of the guest speaker. “Okay, blow a bubble,” I said.
“I don’t know how.”
The thought never occurred to me that the kids would sign up for a contest they couldn’t do!
“Well, keep chewing and watch the other kids,” I said. “Maybe you'll get the hang of it.”
Some kids were chewing steady and really working the gum. They looked straight ahead, concentrating with all their might. Some had the blank stares of Ben Stein. Others were talking, chewing and walking, all at the same time. One girl wanted gum while working on a root beer float. I remembered what you said in the rules: All contestants must have a clean mouth. I was strict about this. She put down her drink, never to be touched again until I picked it up, as I did all the other floats forsaken for a piece of pink chewing gum.
By this time, we were getting some good bubbles going. The practice time was over, and my “calipers” were ready. (One ruler and two straws taped together.) Where were my printed directions?!!!!! I couldn't find them anywhere! I had to have help with this. The guest speaker was a graduate of Brown University majoring in mathematics. “Can you help?” I told him the situation.
Looking down at my on-the-spot invention, he said he had to think about it. I think I heard him say he would need a slide rule and graphic calculator and still he wasn’t sure how to measure. His wife came by and said just eyeball it. That was good enough for me.
With my calipers ready, I measured 2 1/2", 3", 3 1/2", etc. I was confident in your words, “the judge has the final answer.” Everyone was cool with that. The winner blew a bubble 7 1/2" (more or less). It was BIG. After that, the bubble gum was losing its pliability, and I declared the contest over.
Anna Swift won with the 7 1/2" bubble. Everyone was happy! Except a fourth grader who came in third. She approached me for her prize as well as her friend’s second-place earnings. I had no plans to give a second- or third-place prize. Panic was setting in. I looked over at the second-place winner. She had just won the hula hoop contest.
“Whew,” I thought. “She’s got a prize. She’s okay.”
But my fourth-grade friend was persistent.
“You can have the rest of the bubble gum,” I told her in my “game show announcer” voice. I turned to get the rest of the gum. And there was none left!
“It’s all gone. Who would have thought?” I said. “How about a bottle of soda and ice cream to take home so you can make your own root beer floats?” That was very satisfying to her.
As we walked toward the kitchen, she said, “I have an idea. Why not give Abby the bottle of root beer and I’'ll take the ice cream.” She was determined that her friend, so happy with her hula hoop winnings, would take home a prize for coming in second in the Bubble Gum Contest.
Well, things went from bad to worse. There was only a partial bottle of root beer left and a partial carton of vanilla ice cream. She checked out the amount of ice cream and said she'd take it. She gave the root beer to Abby and all was right with the world. I explained everything to her father who thought it was extremely thoughtful of her to be so concerned about Abby’s happiness. She was very noble.
First prize (the book) went home with a fifth grade girl who will thoroughly enjoy it.
Thank you for making the weekend exciting and memorable.
Love,
Emily
Dear Keith and Family,
The contest was great!
“Sign up for the Bubble Gum Contest right here!” I said. Every little person age three and up wrote their names as best as they could and then hovered around me to start the contest. “You have to stand back and form and line,” I said, remembering the very organized way you ran the contest at Old Home Day.
“Everyone needs gum!” I said. Heads dropped immediately and eyes locked in on the bag of Dubble Bubble lying on the floor. I handed out the gum, telling contestants that they had to get the gum nice and soft, so: “Chew,chew,chew!”
I called on the first contestant. A bright young girl. She was the daughter of the guest speaker. “Okay, blow a bubble,” I said.
“I don’t know how.”
The thought never occurred to me that the kids would sign up for a contest they couldn’t do!
“Well, keep chewing and watch the other kids,” I said. “Maybe you'll get the hang of it.”
Some kids were chewing steady and really working the gum. They looked straight ahead, concentrating with all their might. Some had the blank stares of Ben Stein. Others were talking, chewing and walking, all at the same time. One girl wanted gum while working on a root beer float. I remembered what you said in the rules: All contestants must have a clean mouth. I was strict about this. She put down her drink, never to be touched again until I picked it up, as I did all the other floats forsaken for a piece of pink chewing gum.
By this time, we were getting some good bubbles going. The practice time was over, and my “calipers” were ready. (One ruler and two straws taped together.) Where were my printed directions?!!!!! I couldn't find them anywhere! I had to have help with this. The guest speaker was a graduate of Brown University majoring in mathematics. “Can you help?” I told him the situation.
Looking down at my on-the-spot invention, he said he had to think about it. I think I heard him say he would need a slide rule and graphic calculator and still he wasn’t sure how to measure. His wife came by and said just eyeball it. That was good enough for me.
With my calipers ready, I measured 2 1/2", 3", 3 1/2", etc. I was confident in your words, “the judge has the final answer.” Everyone was cool with that. The winner blew a bubble 7 1/2" (more or less). It was BIG. After that, the bubble gum was losing its pliability, and I declared the contest over.
Anna Swift won with the 7 1/2" bubble. Everyone was happy! Except a fourth grader who came in third. She approached me for her prize as well as her friend’s second-place earnings. I had no plans to give a second- or third-place prize. Panic was setting in. I looked over at the second-place winner. She had just won the hula hoop contest.
“Whew,” I thought. “She’s got a prize. She’s okay.”
But my fourth-grade friend was persistent.
“You can have the rest of the bubble gum,” I told her in my “game show announcer” voice. I turned to get the rest of the gum. And there was none left!
“It’s all gone. Who would have thought?” I said. “How about a bottle of soda and ice cream to take home so you can make your own root beer floats?” That was very satisfying to her.
As we walked toward the kitchen, she said, “I have an idea. Why not give Abby the bottle of root beer and I’'ll take the ice cream.” She was determined that her friend, so happy with her hula hoop winnings, would take home a prize for coming in second in the Bubble Gum Contest.
Well, things went from bad to worse. There was only a partial bottle of root beer left and a partial carton of vanilla ice cream. She checked out the amount of ice cream and said she'd take it. She gave the root beer to Abby and all was right with the world. I explained everything to her father who thought it was extremely thoughtful of her to be so concerned about Abby’s happiness. She was very noble.
First prize (the book) went home with a fifth grade girl who will thoroughly enjoy it.
Thank you for making the weekend exciting and memorable.
Love,
Emily
Jun 13, 2006
Ben there, done that, now what?
"Ben Roethlisberger, you just became the youngest quarterback to win the SuperBowl. What are you going to do next?"
Ride a motorcycle without a helmet?
YA GOOF!!!!
Charlotte
Woodbury, PA
P.S. from Ya Goof! Ben, get well soon.
P.P.S. Look at this sports column dated precisely one year before the accident warning Ben about this exact thing!
P.P.P.S from Ya Goof! Charlotte, thanks so much for your email! You're entered to win CHOCOLATE!
Ride a motorcycle without a helmet?
YA GOOF!!!!
Charlotte
Woodbury, PA
P.S. from Ya Goof! Ben, get well soon.
P.P.S. Look at this sports column dated precisely one year before the accident warning Ben about this exact thing!
P.P.P.S from Ya Goof! Charlotte, thanks so much for your email! You're entered to win CHOCOLATE!
Jun 12, 2006
"M" is for My Bad
I was a storyteller tonight for the Vacation Bible School that our church is holding with another church. I met with four groups and told the story of Jesus feeding the crowd of 5,000 with one boy's lunch of five loaves and two fish.
To bring the story home to the kids, I told each group that I brought a snack for all fifty kids in the Bible School: a single M & M (I guess that would that just be one "M"). I asked who would like to break up the M so that every child could have as much as they wanted. I asked another child to collect the leftovers. Impossible? You betcha.
It worked pretty well until the last group, the four- and five-year-olds. When I pulled out the one M, looking might lonely in a zip-lock bag, one boy started to cry.
"That's not fair!"
I had to do some fast apologizing and adapting. For one thing, I gave the boy the first chance to act out an animal in a game of charades that I had worked into the story. He perked up at that.
I whispered into his ear to tell him the animal he was to portray.
"Giraffe."
He nodded, so I knew he'd heard me, but he signaled that he was going to whisper to me.
"How do I act like a giraffe?"
I helped him out. I raised his arm up beside his head. It worked. Whew.
The illustration went well otherwise, but still, for not thinking of a way to make it foolproof:
Keith, Ya Goof!
To bring the story home to the kids, I told each group that I brought a snack for all fifty kids in the Bible School: a single M & M (I guess that would that just be one "M"). I asked who would like to break up the M so that every child could have as much as they wanted. I asked another child to collect the leftovers. Impossible? You betcha.
It worked pretty well until the last group, the four- and five-year-olds. When I pulled out the one M, looking might lonely in a zip-lock bag, one boy started to cry.
"That's not fair!"
I had to do some fast apologizing and adapting. For one thing, I gave the boy the first chance to act out an animal in a game of charades that I had worked into the story. He perked up at that.
I whispered into his ear to tell him the animal he was to portray.
"Giraffe."
He nodded, so I knew he'd heard me, but he signaled that he was going to whisper to me.
"How do I act like a giraffe?"
I helped him out. I raised his arm up beside his head. It worked. Whew.
The illustration went well otherwise, but still, for not thinking of a way to make it foolproof:
Keith, Ya Goof!
Jun 11, 2006
How to make free tickets cost $10.00
Step One: At work, win two tickets to a charity event at Del Grosso's Amusement Park. You're entitled to two rounds of miniature golf and two spaghetti dinners. Yeah, baby!
Step Two: Lose the tickets.
Step Three: Find out after you've parked.
Step Four: Pay for replacement tickets.
Ah, well. It's for a good cause. Below, see the top half of the scorecard. Ethan and Emmett played.
Here was the conversation upon my reviewing the scorecard:
ME: Why does this say "M" and "T"?
ETHAN: We both have the same first initial, so we used our second initials.
ME: Uh ... your second initials would be "A" and "B." (for "Augustus" and "Baird")
ETHAN: (rolling his eyes) Okay, okay. The second letters of our first names.
ME: Gotcha.
They have no idea how exhausting it is for me to come up with ways to nitpick all the time. And will they demonstrate any appreciation of this next Sunday (Father's Day)? I'm not counting on it. Sniff.
Anyway ... I lost the tickets ... so lay it on me:
Ya Goof!
Step Two: Lose the tickets.
Step Three: Find out after you've parked.
Step Four: Pay for replacement tickets.
Ah, well. It's for a good cause. Below, see the top half of the scorecard. Ethan and Emmett played.
Here was the conversation upon my reviewing the scorecard:
ME: Why does this say "M" and "T"?
ETHAN: We both have the same first initial, so we used our second initials.
ME: Uh ... your second initials would be "A" and "B." (for "Augustus" and "Baird")
ETHAN: (rolling his eyes) Okay, okay. The second letters of our first names.
ME: Gotcha.
They have no idea how exhausting it is for me to come up with ways to nitpick all the time. And will they demonstrate any appreciation of this next Sunday (Father's Day)? I'm not counting on it. Sniff.
Anyway ... I lost the tickets ... so lay it on me:
Ya Goof!
Add this to the driver's manual
Has this happened to you?
You pull over for an emergency vehicle. The emergency vehicle passes through. You're about to get back into the lane, but the driver behind you pulls out first. I hate that!
Granted, there might be a circumstance where I would do it, too, if I were in an extra-big hurry and saw my chance and thought the end justified the means.
BUT unless that is the case with you, o-ye-person-who-did-this-to-me-yesterday and ye-next-person-to-do-this-to-me, with all my force I bellow:
Ya Goof!!!!!
You pull over for an emergency vehicle. The emergency vehicle passes through. You're about to get back into the lane, but the driver behind you pulls out first. I hate that!
Granted, there might be a circumstance where I would do it, too, if I were in an extra-big hurry and saw my chance and thought the end justified the means.
BUT unless that is the case with you, o-ye-person-who-did-this-to-me-yesterday and ye-next-person-to-do-this-to-me, with all my force I bellow:
Ya Goof!!!!!
Jun 8, 2006
This story stinks
Ethan was pooped on twice tonight. Once literally, once figuratively.
He had a Pony League game at a field near Northern Bedford High School. It was just the two of us, because Emmett had a Little League game at the same time.
(Quick tangent: Last night, Emmett’s team was behind 9-0 going into the fourth inning. At the end of the fourth inning, the score was 9-9. At the end of the fifth, it was 12-12. Emmett’s team failed to score in the bottom of the sixth. In the top, alas, the other guys pushed one over.)
As I was driving along, Ethan suddenly growled, “Awwwwww!” He started brushing something off his arm and the front of his uniform.
“What? Did you spill something or—?”
“Look!”
He held out his arm. There was a little white splash on it.
“Ewwwwww!”
“It came in through the window!”
“No way!”
“Yes way.”
“No way!”
“Dad, get over it.”
“You know how the high school graduation was held last night in the football stadium?”
“Yeah, so?”
“If the speaker said to the whole crowd, ‘Raise your hand if you’ve ever been pooped on by a bird while riding in a car—’”
“Okay, Dad.”
“ ‘—and convertibles don’t count,’—”
“Dad—”
“—how many would raise their hands?”
It turned out to be an omen.
To make a seven-inning story short, Ethan’s team was behind by three runs with one out left, with two men on and Ethan was up. The count went to 2 and 2. The pitch flew. Called strike three.
It hit the dirt right behind the plate. Everyone saw it as low. I know the losing side always says that, but how often does this happen? As everyone was clearing out, the opposing coach came over and held out a folded $20 bill toward Ethan’s coach.
“That was just wrong. Here, take it. Take the team out on me.”
Ethan’s coach appreciated the gesture but shook off the money.
Ethan took it hard. The call took away a hitting streak. That’s rough at thirteen. I had to refrain from my usual joking for several miles. You can’t ride a kid when bad stuff is coming at him high and low.
To the unknown bird: Ya Goof!
To the unknown ump: Thanks for your service. I trust you did your best.
He had a Pony League game at a field near Northern Bedford High School. It was just the two of us, because Emmett had a Little League game at the same time.
(Quick tangent: Last night, Emmett’s team was behind 9-0 going into the fourth inning. At the end of the fourth inning, the score was 9-9. At the end of the fifth, it was 12-12. Emmett’s team failed to score in the bottom of the sixth. In the top, alas, the other guys pushed one over.)
As I was driving along, Ethan suddenly growled, “Awwwwww!” He started brushing something off his arm and the front of his uniform.
“What? Did you spill something or—?”
“Look!”
He held out his arm. There was a little white splash on it.
“Ewwwwww!”
“It came in through the window!”
“No way!”
“Yes way.”
“No way!”
“Dad, get over it.”
“You know how the high school graduation was held last night in the football stadium?”
“Yeah, so?”
“If the speaker said to the whole crowd, ‘Raise your hand if you’ve ever been pooped on by a bird while riding in a car—’”
“Okay, Dad.”
“ ‘—and convertibles don’t count,’—”
“Dad—”
“—how many would raise their hands?”
It turned out to be an omen.
To make a seven-inning story short, Ethan’s team was behind by three runs with one out left, with two men on and Ethan was up. The count went to 2 and 2. The pitch flew. Called strike three.
It hit the dirt right behind the plate. Everyone saw it as low. I know the losing side always says that, but how often does this happen? As everyone was clearing out, the opposing coach came over and held out a folded $20 bill toward Ethan’s coach.
“That was just wrong. Here, take it. Take the team out on me.”
Ethan’s coach appreciated the gesture but shook off the money.
Ethan took it hard. The call took away a hitting streak. That’s rough at thirteen. I had to refrain from my usual joking for several miles. You can’t ride a kid when bad stuff is coming at him high and low.
To the unknown bird: Ya Goof!
To the unknown ump: Thanks for your service. I trust you did your best.
Jun 6, 2006
A walltercation
There was some excitement at the Hollidaysburg Area Library today. Janet (the Library Director) found out about it when some teen girls came in (they had been doing some service work in the library that day) and said there was a man outside who wanted her to come right away.
She hurried out and found a man down at the corner with six teenage boys on bikes. Actually, five boys on bikes and one on foot. The man had hold of the sixth bike, and the sixth rider was trying to wrestle it away from him. The man was arguing with all of the riders.
Janet could see at once what was going on. The kids use their bikes to grind on the library's low brick wall. She's repeatedly asked and ordered them to stop doing that. They haven't.
The man, a library volunteer and regular patron, had also tried before to order off the kids. This time, he decided to make a point. He grabbed hold of one of the bikes and wouldn't let go. The rider protested, to say the least ("Why do people have to be such !@#$$%^&!"). The man asked why he (the rider) should be able to control his property (the bike) when the library couldn't control its property (the wall).
The other riders had scattered but they all came back and argued that the wall was public property. Fine, the man said, then stop grinding my property. No, they said, it's our property, too.
Janet explained to me later that the library is actually private property that's open to the public. So the kids had no more right to grind the wall than they would a homeowner's wall.
Anyway, the bike-grabbing-guy called 911 on his cell phone, and a borough police officer came. He asked Janet and the man to wait for him on the steps while he talked to the kids. The officer was with them for quite a while. When he came up to the steps, he explained that it had taken some time to get all of their names and addresses. He got the man's side of the story.
The officer advised that Janet can request the riders' names and addresses from him to send letters to the kids stating that they are not welcome on the property. The officer said he knows the kids from earlier encounters.
As for grabbing someone else's bike to make a point—the officer doesn't recommend it. If the rider had slipped during the struggle, or if the tussle had escalated, it's potentially a very bad scene. The man's actions did result in Janet's getting the names to use, but still ...
To the man we say: Ya Goof!
But much louder to the riders we say: Ya Goofs!!
She hurried out and found a man down at the corner with six teenage boys on bikes. Actually, five boys on bikes and one on foot. The man had hold of the sixth bike, and the sixth rider was trying to wrestle it away from him. The man was arguing with all of the riders.
Janet could see at once what was going on. The kids use their bikes to grind on the library's low brick wall. She's repeatedly asked and ordered them to stop doing that. They haven't.
The man, a library volunteer and regular patron, had also tried before to order off the kids. This time, he decided to make a point. He grabbed hold of one of the bikes and wouldn't let go. The rider protested, to say the least ("Why do people have to be such !@#$$%^&!"). The man asked why he (the rider) should be able to control his property (the bike) when the library couldn't control its property (the wall).
The other riders had scattered but they all came back and argued that the wall was public property. Fine, the man said, then stop grinding my property. No, they said, it's our property, too.
Janet explained to me later that the library is actually private property that's open to the public. So the kids had no more right to grind the wall than they would a homeowner's wall.
Anyway, the bike-grabbing-guy called 911 on his cell phone, and a borough police officer came. He asked Janet and the man to wait for him on the steps while he talked to the kids. The officer was with them for quite a while. When he came up to the steps, he explained that it had taken some time to get all of their names and addresses. He got the man's side of the story.
The officer advised that Janet can request the riders' names and addresses from him to send letters to the kids stating that they are not welcome on the property. The officer said he knows the kids from earlier encounters.
As for grabbing someone else's bike to make a point—the officer doesn't recommend it. If the rider had slipped during the struggle, or if the tussle had escalated, it's potentially a very bad scene. The man's actions did result in Janet's getting the names to use, but still ...
To the man we say: Ya Goof!
But much louder to the riders we say: Ya Goofs!!
Jun 3, 2006
The Duh-namic Duo
Here's a photo of my new cell phone and its holster on a piece of our new wicker furniture. This could be called a YaGoof Grouping.
YaGoof #1 has to do with the small mud stain on the holster (I know you might not be able to see it). That's a result of its spending part of the night on the floor at Blair County Ballpark. Emmett and I went to the game (er, rainout) last night. As soon as I sat down, I found that my phone and holster were missing. Dang! I only bought it last Saturday and hadn't even made a call on it yet!
I made the long trek to the parking garage to see if it was in the van. No.
I looked all over at home this morning. No.
I stopped in at the Curve office and asked (without much hope) if it could possibly be in their lost-and-found. Yes!
Keith, Ya Goof! And may I add, thank you to whoever turned it in.
YaGoof #2 has to do with the cushion peeking into the picture. We've been looking for new wicker, and Janet found a nice set at Unkel Joe's Woodshed. On display, the set had striped cushions that we didn't like, but the store had a set of flowered cushions that we did like.
But when we got home, we found that the cushions were too small. We hadn't actually seen them on the wicker pieces; we just assumed that everything in stock was the same size.
I found the manufacturer on the web and called to ask for retailers who stocked the correct size. They were very gracious and led me to a retailer in Greensburg who was just as gracious. I was pleasantly surprised that it worked out so well. We received the cushions yesterday. Perfect!
You know, it's kinda nice when a goof leads to a satisfying experience. So where do I direct the honors? My choice is ...
Unkel Joe, Ya Goof! (For not stocking the right size).
P.S. Is there actually an Unkel Joe?
YaGoof #1 has to do with the small mud stain on the holster (I know you might not be able to see it). That's a result of its spending part of the night on the floor at Blair County Ballpark. Emmett and I went to the game (er, rainout) last night. As soon as I sat down, I found that my phone and holster were missing. Dang! I only bought it last Saturday and hadn't even made a call on it yet!
I made the long trek to the parking garage to see if it was in the van. No.
I looked all over at home this morning. No.
I stopped in at the Curve office and asked (without much hope) if it could possibly be in their lost-and-found. Yes!
Keith, Ya Goof! And may I add, thank you to whoever turned it in.
YaGoof #2 has to do with the cushion peeking into the picture. We've been looking for new wicker, and Janet found a nice set at Unkel Joe's Woodshed. On display, the set had striped cushions that we didn't like, but the store had a set of flowered cushions that we did like.
But when we got home, we found that the cushions were too small. We hadn't actually seen them on the wicker pieces; we just assumed that everything in stock was the same size.
I found the manufacturer on the web and called to ask for retailers who stocked the correct size. They were very gracious and led me to a retailer in Greensburg who was just as gracious. I was pleasantly surprised that it worked out so well. We received the cushions yesterday. Perfect!
You know, it's kinda nice when a goof leads to a satisfying experience. So where do I direct the honors? My choice is ...
Unkel Joe, Ya Goof! (For not stocking the right size).
P.S. Is there actually an Unkel Joe?
Jun 2, 2006
got ... something else?
A little bit ago, Janet was getting an evening snack, a bowl of cereal.
After adding milk, she found that it wasn't. Wasn't milk, that is. Well, okay, it was milk, but really, really diluted.
I think what happened was this: At breakfast today, I finished a jug of milk and ran some rinse water into it, but Ethan and were in a hurry to get him to school (as usual), and I left the jug on the counter. Janet must have found it, put on the cap and put it back in the refrigerator.
So it appears I must say: Keith, Ya Goof!
After adding milk, she found that it wasn't. Wasn't milk, that is. Well, okay, it was milk, but really, really diluted.
I think what happened was this: At breakfast today, I finished a jug of milk and ran some rinse water into it, but Ethan and were in a hurry to get him to school (as usual), and I left the jug on the counter. Janet must have found it, put on the cap and put it back in the refrigerator.
So it appears I must say: Keith, Ya Goof!
Jun 1, 2006
A story that does and doesn't belong here
Nearly every morning on the way to work, I pass Blair County Ballpark and cross Frankstown Road to get onto Interstate 99. So if you've ever gone to a Curve game and left in that direction, you can picture the spot.
The morning before yesterday, a van was ahead of me as we entered that intersection. The light had just turned green. One car rolled through from Frankstown Hill, apparently running the red light. I sucked in a breath at how close that car was cutting it to the van ahead of me.
Then another car ran the light.
Through all of this, the van just kept rolling forward, so the driver must not even have noticed the two cars flying her way from the right.
The second car hit the van and tore off the front of it. The impact pushed the van a bit to the right, and the other car ended up on the side of the road just past the intersection. I was already moving through the intersection. I steered around the van and pulled over on the interstate entrance ramp. I ran back to the cars to see if the drivers needed any help, if only from being shaken up.
Ironically, I had a brand-new cell phone in my car that was charged but not yet programmed. My first cell phone. Yes, there are some cell-less people left.
The two drivers were cordial to each other. Neither was hurt, just rattled. To add to the irony, each had a cell phone that wasn't working. Another car had pulled over, and I went to that driver, who had a working cell phone. She called 911.
An officer got there quickly. If you haven't been in an accident that leaves vehicles undrivable (or at least not for a while), the first two questions are: "Is anyone hurt?" and "Who do you want to have tow your car?" Just in case you want to call a towing service to mind and feel more prepared out there on the mean streets ...
I wasn't needed any more, and I went on my way, feeling sympathy mingle with ... well, gratitude at being able to be on my way.
I won't say "Ya Goof" to anyone involved. Things in life go wrong, but some of them rise above the level of a goof. They end up making you grateful for the things that are merely goofs.
The morning before yesterday, a van was ahead of me as we entered that intersection. The light had just turned green. One car rolled through from Frankstown Hill, apparently running the red light. I sucked in a breath at how close that car was cutting it to the van ahead of me.
Then another car ran the light.
Through all of this, the van just kept rolling forward, so the driver must not even have noticed the two cars flying her way from the right.
The second car hit the van and tore off the front of it. The impact pushed the van a bit to the right, and the other car ended up on the side of the road just past the intersection. I was already moving through the intersection. I steered around the van and pulled over on the interstate entrance ramp. I ran back to the cars to see if the drivers needed any help, if only from being shaken up.
Ironically, I had a brand-new cell phone in my car that was charged but not yet programmed. My first cell phone. Yes, there are some cell-less people left.
The two drivers were cordial to each other. Neither was hurt, just rattled. To add to the irony, each had a cell phone that wasn't working. Another car had pulled over, and I went to that driver, who had a working cell phone. She called 911.
An officer got there quickly. If you haven't been in an accident that leaves vehicles undrivable (or at least not for a while), the first two questions are: "Is anyone hurt?" and "Who do you want to have tow your car?" Just in case you want to call a towing service to mind and feel more prepared out there on the mean streets ...
I wasn't needed any more, and I went on my way, feeling sympathy mingle with ... well, gratitude at being able to be on my way.
I won't say "Ya Goof" to anyone involved. Things in life go wrong, but some of them rise above the level of a goof. They end up making you grateful for the things that are merely goofs.
May 31, 2006
How to make ten minutes of work take two hours
Here's a posting from Emmett. Can you tell that school is winding down and some things are getting a little screwy?
There's this student in my class—we'll use the initial "H"—who hadn't finished some Language Arts homework due to being absent. Our teacher, Mr. Miller, sent H to the School Library to finish it, and for the rest of Language Arts there was no sign of H.
Then we had Social Studies class. Still no H.
We moved to another classroom, Miss Lesko's room, and toward the end of our Health lesson, H finally showed up.
"Where have you been?" Miss Lesko said.
"In the Library. Nobody came and got me."
"What were you doing in the Library?" Miss Lesko said.
"My homework. Mr. Miller sent me there two hours ago."
"It took you two hours to do your homework?!"
"No, I was done in ten minutes."
"So you've been sitting in the Library for an hour and fifty minutes?"
"Well ... yes."
"Why didn't you just come back to Mr. Miller's room?"
"I didn't want to get in trouble."
"In the Library, were you reading?"
"Well ... no."
H was just sitting there.
All I can say is: H, YaGoof!
P.S. This isn't the first time that this happened with H.
There's this student in my class—we'll use the initial "H"—who hadn't finished some Language Arts homework due to being absent. Our teacher, Mr. Miller, sent H to the School Library to finish it, and for the rest of Language Arts there was no sign of H.
Then we had Social Studies class. Still no H.
We moved to another classroom, Miss Lesko's room, and toward the end of our Health lesson, H finally showed up.
"Where have you been?" Miss Lesko said.
"In the Library. Nobody came and got me."
"What were you doing in the Library?" Miss Lesko said.
"My homework. Mr. Miller sent me there two hours ago."
"It took you two hours to do your homework?!"
"No, I was done in ten minutes."
"So you've been sitting in the Library for an hour and fifty minutes?"
"Well ... yes."
"Why didn't you just come back to Mr. Miller's room?"
"I didn't want to get in trouble."
"In the Library, were you reading?"
"Well ... no."
H was just sitting there.
All I can say is: H, YaGoof!
P.S. This isn't the first time that this happened with H.
May 29, 2006
Oh, the Pastabilities!
There's a new restaurant in town: The Pastaria.
We'd heard it was a new concept. At our first visit, it felt like a new concept. There were some moments of confusion about how it all worked. Okay, many moments of confusion.
What makes this YaGoof! material? Well, if the concept doesn't work, some will say to the operators: Ya Goofs!
Our party (including all four of us in Team EEK!) was divided about our experience. One point of view was: This is cool! Now I kind of get how it works, and I'll be back! This place has a chance!
Another point of view was: This bites! Now I kind of get how it works, but if they don't fix X, Y and Z, I won't be back, and they're doomed!
Here is a transcript (sort of) of our visit:
Oops, no cars in the parking lot! They're not open?
Sure they're open! The lights are on!
That signs says "Aperto?" Does that mean "Open"?
Yeah, in Spanish.
No, "Open" in Spanish is "Abra."
Wouldn't "Aperto" be Italian? This is a pasta place.
I can see why they wouldn't want to put "A Bra" on the door.
Well, it would attract some people.
There's people in there. Let's go in.
This guy greeting us must be one of the owners. Friendly.
He's telling us how to order. That's nice.
On the other hand, is ordering so hard that you need to be trained?
So we choose one kind of pasta, two edibles and a gravy.
Gravy? Don't they mean "sauce"?
It's just they're way of saying "sauce." See, they also say "Pastabilities."
And we can choose a booth or a table in the family room or eat sitting on a couch.
Eat pasta on a couch? Isn't that asking for trouble?
Imagine having to clean pasta stains out of a couch.
And if you want meat, it's $2.00 more.
Of course I want meat! Everyone wants meat! Everyone will have to pay $2.00 more. It's a crime!
Everyone will have to pay $2.00 more! It's brilliant!
Okay, this ordering thing is taking some time to sink in. It's a good thing other people aren't in line behind us.
Oops, here come some more people. Think, think! What do I want?
I think I'll just take one of the pre-fabricated dishes.
Okay, these chef guys taking the orders need to pay more attention to what we say. We've had to repeat everything to them.
On the other hand, we could enunciate much better, too.
But they'll be other customers who don't even enunciate as well as we do.
What did you say? Stop mumbling.
Is the salad included? It is?
How about the bread? Is it included? It is?
Hmm. So these are not fast-food prices, but the dishes are plastic.
That's because you can either eat here or take the food to go. They can't give you food to go on china.
Hmpf. If I'm paying this much, I want real plates.
I asked for meatballs and got sausage.
I asked for pepperoni and didn't get any.
Oh, so you have a sign for Discover, but Discover isn't working yet? I'm glad I have a Visa, too.
Wait a minute, the gal already rung us up, and didn't charge for the pepperoni that had to be added afterward. Oh, well ...
So the drink case is after the cash register? That's not real smart.
Oh, will you stop talking about wanting real plates?
Well, I'm just saying ...
Look, you get a decent amount of food. We can just split an order the next time.
... I'm just saying that they're not going to give real plates, they can't charge those prices.
You gotta love any place that has a TV playing.
This table is kind of narrow. Where do we put the trays?
How about up here on the window sill?
But look, they stick out.
I need another knife ... fork ... spoon ...
Is there butter for the bread, Mr. Owner? Oh, it's already in the bread? Thanks!
Now that he's walked away, I still want butter.
If I don't like this sausage that I didn't ask for, I'll give it to you.
I already have some, and I like it, but I'm not going to have room for yours.
Hey, this food is good!
Just too expensive.
Two words: Entree-splitting.
And it's on plastic. It's just doesn't match the decor.
The decor is pretty nice, all right. These booth seats are really comfortable.
Maybe too comfortable. People will stay all day. Will they turn over customers like they need to?
People could come in and buy a dollar soda and sit on a couch and watch TV all day.
But they don't give refills.
I have to get a lid to take the rest of this to go. Let me out.
Geez, did you get enough take-out bags?
Well, the dispenser thing just gave me too many!
Hey, now I have pride in being a trained Pastaria customer! It's like a badge of honor!
That's not a good thing.
Shh! Keep your voice down. Mr. Owner is coming back around.
Hey, at least we don't have to tip.
So you get the idea of what our meal was like, and the division in our ranks. We strongly recommend going or not going to the Pastria and confidently predict that you will like it or not like it. Furthermore, please cut them slack or come down on them like a hammer.
We'd heard it was a new concept. At our first visit, it felt like a new concept. There were some moments of confusion about how it all worked. Okay, many moments of confusion.
What makes this YaGoof! material? Well, if the concept doesn't work, some will say to the operators: Ya Goofs!
Our party (including all four of us in Team EEK!) was divided about our experience. One point of view was: This is cool! Now I kind of get how it works, and I'll be back! This place has a chance!
Another point of view was: This bites! Now I kind of get how it works, but if they don't fix X, Y and Z, I won't be back, and they're doomed!
Here is a transcript (sort of) of our visit:
Oops, no cars in the parking lot! They're not open?
Sure they're open! The lights are on!
That signs says "Aperto?" Does that mean "Open"?
Yeah, in Spanish.
No, "Open" in Spanish is "Abra."
Wouldn't "Aperto" be Italian? This is a pasta place.
I can see why they wouldn't want to put "A Bra" on the door.
Well, it would attract some people.
There's people in there. Let's go in.
This guy greeting us must be one of the owners. Friendly.
He's telling us how to order. That's nice.
On the other hand, is ordering so hard that you need to be trained?
So we choose one kind of pasta, two edibles and a gravy.
Gravy? Don't they mean "sauce"?
It's just they're way of saying "sauce." See, they also say "Pastabilities."
And we can choose a booth or a table in the family room or eat sitting on a couch.
Eat pasta on a couch? Isn't that asking for trouble?
Imagine having to clean pasta stains out of a couch.
And if you want meat, it's $2.00 more.
Of course I want meat! Everyone wants meat! Everyone will have to pay $2.00 more. It's a crime!
Everyone will have to pay $2.00 more! It's brilliant!
Okay, this ordering thing is taking some time to sink in. It's a good thing other people aren't in line behind us.
Oops, here come some more people. Think, think! What do I want?
I think I'll just take one of the pre-fabricated dishes.
Okay, these chef guys taking the orders need to pay more attention to what we say. We've had to repeat everything to them.
On the other hand, we could enunciate much better, too.
But they'll be other customers who don't even enunciate as well as we do.
What did you say? Stop mumbling.
Is the salad included? It is?
How about the bread? Is it included? It is?
Hmm. So these are not fast-food prices, but the dishes are plastic.
That's because you can either eat here or take the food to go. They can't give you food to go on china.
Hmpf. If I'm paying this much, I want real plates.
I asked for meatballs and got sausage.
I asked for pepperoni and didn't get any.
Oh, so you have a sign for Discover, but Discover isn't working yet? I'm glad I have a Visa, too.
Wait a minute, the gal already rung us up, and didn't charge for the pepperoni that had to be added afterward. Oh, well ...
So the drink case is after the cash register? That's not real smart.
Oh, will you stop talking about wanting real plates?
Well, I'm just saying ...
Look, you get a decent amount of food. We can just split an order the next time.
... I'm just saying that they're not going to give real plates, they can't charge those prices.
You gotta love any place that has a TV playing.
This table is kind of narrow. Where do we put the trays?
How about up here on the window sill?
But look, they stick out.
I need another knife ... fork ... spoon ...
Is there butter for the bread, Mr. Owner? Oh, it's already in the bread? Thanks!
Now that he's walked away, I still want butter.
If I don't like this sausage that I didn't ask for, I'll give it to you.
I already have some, and I like it, but I'm not going to have room for yours.
Hey, this food is good!
Just too expensive.
Two words: Entree-splitting.
And it's on plastic. It's just doesn't match the decor.
The decor is pretty nice, all right. These booth seats are really comfortable.
Maybe too comfortable. People will stay all day. Will they turn over customers like they need to?
People could come in and buy a dollar soda and sit on a couch and watch TV all day.
But they don't give refills.
I have to get a lid to take the rest of this to go. Let me out.
Geez, did you get enough take-out bags?
Well, the dispenser thing just gave me too many!
Hey, now I have pride in being a trained Pastaria customer! It's like a badge of honor!
That's not a good thing.
Shh! Keep your voice down. Mr. Owner is coming back around.
Hey, at least we don't have to tip.
So you get the idea of what our meal was like, and the division in our ranks. We strongly recommend going or not going to the Pastria and confidently predict that you will like it or not like it. Furthermore, please cut them slack or come down on them like a hammer.
May 24, 2006
The hacker attacks
Ethan has had a cough for several days, particularly in the morning and at night. It's a seasonal thing. On weekday mornings, it's usually just him and me at breakfast, and each day this week his refrain has been, "I'm still coughing."
I'm of the mindset to just let a cough play itself out, but the last time we let a medical complaint with Ethan go, we found out that he didn't just have a slow-healing sprain, he'd had a fracture for two weeks (fortunately it healed just fine.) So I said I would call the doctor.
The doctor called in two prescriptions, and I picked them up this afternoon. Fifty bucks! Even after my insurance! I think it's because we were paying the yearly deductible, so I guess it's a good thing that we haven't bought any medicine yet this year. On the other hand: Fifty bucks for a cough!
And then when I showed Ethan the medicine, he said that he had planned all along to just let the cough play out. So he was just talking to talk and not angling for me to do anything about it? I'm still processing that one.
Ethan, Ya Goof! Take your medicine!
I'm of the mindset to just let a cough play itself out, but the last time we let a medical complaint with Ethan go, we found out that he didn't just have a slow-healing sprain, he'd had a fracture for two weeks (fortunately it healed just fine.) So I said I would call the doctor.
The doctor called in two prescriptions, and I picked them up this afternoon. Fifty bucks! Even after my insurance! I think it's because we were paying the yearly deductible, so I guess it's a good thing that we haven't bought any medicine yet this year. On the other hand: Fifty bucks for a cough!
And then when I showed Ethan the medicine, he said that he had planned all along to just let the cough play out. So he was just talking to talk and not angling for me to do anything about it? I'm still processing that one.
Ethan, Ya Goof! Take your medicine!
Sometimes you can only shrub your shoulders
It began like so:
DAD: Ethan, get the hedge clippers and trim the grape vines sticking into the Elcove.
"The Elcove" is what we Eldreds call our backyard gazebo. Go ahead, roll your eyes at that name, but we like it. Last evening, we were grilling some food and eating out there.
Here's a picture of the vines I was talking about:
What Ethan heard me say was: Get the hedge clippers and blah blah blah blah blah. Dadspeak is only partially understandable to him.
Bustling around grilling and bossing, my next line to Ethan was: Bring out some plates.
ETHAN: But you said to clip the hedges.
DAD: Oh, yeah, carry on.
What I heard was: But you said to blah blah blah. With my tendency to pepper out directions, I've heard "But you said to ..." so many times that my mind simply inserts an earlier directive.
That was the crucial exchange, though we didn't realize it until later. Notice that Ethan, now holding the hedge clippers, assumed that he was to clip the hedges. Kind of a natural assumption, I must admit.
So without my noticing, he went to the front of the house and started clipping one of the hedges.
Fast forward. The food is ready.
DAD: (to Emmett) Go find Ethan.
What Emmett heard: Go find Ethan. A miracle! Perfect translation!
Except Emmett came back and said: I can't find him. I looked all over the house.
DAD: (calling out to the world at large) Ethan!
Ethan: (from the front of the house, where he was clipping a shrub) Coming.
Emmett: (after Ethan appeared) Where were you?
Ethan: Clipping the hedge like Dad told me to.
Dad: No, I said to ...
And you know the rest. Here's a picture of Ethan's work:
The thing is, these days our lives are so busy that I didn't dare leave one shrub trimmed and not the rest. Who knows when we'd actually have the time and weather to finish the job. So we ended up racing the setting sun to get the trimming done.
As Emmett declared after we sorted everything out: A double YaGoof!
DAD: Ethan, get the hedge clippers and trim the grape vines sticking into the Elcove.
"The Elcove" is what we Eldreds call our backyard gazebo. Go ahead, roll your eyes at that name, but we like it. Last evening, we were grilling some food and eating out there.
Here's a picture of the vines I was talking about:
What Ethan heard me say was: Get the hedge clippers and blah blah blah blah blah. Dadspeak is only partially understandable to him.
Bustling around grilling and bossing, my next line to Ethan was: Bring out some plates.
ETHAN: But you said to clip the hedges.
DAD: Oh, yeah, carry on.
What I heard was: But you said to blah blah blah. With my tendency to pepper out directions, I've heard "But you said to ..." so many times that my mind simply inserts an earlier directive.
That was the crucial exchange, though we didn't realize it until later. Notice that Ethan, now holding the hedge clippers, assumed that he was to clip the hedges. Kind of a natural assumption, I must admit.
So without my noticing, he went to the front of the house and started clipping one of the hedges.
Fast forward. The food is ready.
DAD: (to Emmett) Go find Ethan.
What Emmett heard: Go find Ethan. A miracle! Perfect translation!
Except Emmett came back and said: I can't find him. I looked all over the house.
DAD: (calling out to the world at large) Ethan!
Ethan: (from the front of the house, where he was clipping a shrub) Coming.
Emmett: (after Ethan appeared) Where were you?
Ethan: Clipping the hedge like Dad told me to.
Dad: No, I said to ...
And you know the rest. Here's a picture of Ethan's work:
The thing is, these days our lives are so busy that I didn't dare leave one shrub trimmed and not the rest. Who knows when we'd actually have the time and weather to finish the job. So we ended up racing the setting sun to get the trimming done.
As Emmett declared after we sorted everything out: A double YaGoof!
May 23, 2006
YaGoof! goes to Washington, Part 2
(continued from previous entry)
3. On Day 2, we arrived early to try to get a good parking spot on the street (free!). I parked, soon realized I was in a tour bus parking spot, moved to another spot only to discover that it was marked 2-hour parking only, went back to the original spot thinking maybe it was okay after all, then thought better of it and discovered a pay parking lot that was fairly cheap and convenient—except by then the best spots within that lot were gone.
4. That evening, we drove around for about an hour looking for 201 K Street, the address of a coffehouse I had read about, and we (sort of) found that address multiple times, because Washington has both southeast and northeast Second Avenues, but we never did spot the coffeehouse. The next day, I found out it was actually at 201 F Street.
5. On Day 3, I was primed to get another early start, but Janet has this thing about sleeping in. I managed to make use of being awake by showering and dressing without waking her, then arranging the van, which was piled with those freebie books. It took me about an hour, and when I got back to the room at 7:30, I fully expected to see Janet dressed and ready to go. But no, she was still snoozing. I have to hand it to her for being ready to go within a half-hour, but then ...
6. ... as we rode down in the elevator to the parking garage, she looked in her big shoulder bag for this fanny pack that she'd been wearing at the show to carry money and other important stuff—but it wasn't there. She went back up the room while ...
7. ... I stewed in the van even as I had to back-and-fill over and over because someone had parked us in. As I sat and waited, I decided to paw through Janet's big shoulder bag, and the fanny pack was in there after all. I dangled it out the window when she finally came from the elevator.
8. One of the reasons I wanted to get an early start was to be sure to get to a service at a cool church that meets in movie theaters in Union Station. I proposed that we park near the Expo site (the Washington Convention Center) and take the subway to Union Station. Those things take time, and you have to start early to have a chance at a free street spot (I couldn't let go of the dream), but it was not to be, and again, we had to settle for a less-than-ideal spot in the fee (rhymes with free but it's THE OPPOSITE) parking lot.
9. Then we couldn't figure out how to work the subway farecard vending machine and had to ask for help from an attendant who moved slooooooooooowly.
10. Then we were still unsure which train to take and had just figured it out when a fast-moving gal excused herself past us and threw us off just enough that we fell back into discombobulation and missed the very train that she was rushing to catch.
11. So we had to wait 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8. or so minutes for the next train.
12. And when we got to Union Station ... we were right in time for the service. We had zero boring waiting-around time. So I had been pushing and fretting for nothing.
Doesn't all this just make you want to sign up for a YaGoof! Caribbean Cruise?!
3. On Day 2, we arrived early to try to get a good parking spot on the street (free!). I parked, soon realized I was in a tour bus parking spot, moved to another spot only to discover that it was marked 2-hour parking only, went back to the original spot thinking maybe it was okay after all, then thought better of it and discovered a pay parking lot that was fairly cheap and convenient—except by then the best spots within that lot were gone.
4. That evening, we drove around for about an hour looking for 201 K Street, the address of a coffehouse I had read about, and we (sort of) found that address multiple times, because Washington has both southeast and northeast Second Avenues, but we never did spot the coffeehouse. The next day, I found out it was actually at 201 F Street.
5. On Day 3, I was primed to get another early start, but Janet has this thing about sleeping in. I managed to make use of being awake by showering and dressing without waking her, then arranging the van, which was piled with those freebie books. It took me about an hour, and when I got back to the room at 7:30, I fully expected to see Janet dressed and ready to go. But no, she was still snoozing. I have to hand it to her for being ready to go within a half-hour, but then ...
6. ... as we rode down in the elevator to the parking garage, she looked in her big shoulder bag for this fanny pack that she'd been wearing at the show to carry money and other important stuff—but it wasn't there. She went back up the room while ...
7. ... I stewed in the van even as I had to back-and-fill over and over because someone had parked us in. As I sat and waited, I decided to paw through Janet's big shoulder bag, and the fanny pack was in there after all. I dangled it out the window when she finally came from the elevator.
8. One of the reasons I wanted to get an early start was to be sure to get to a service at a cool church that meets in movie theaters in Union Station. I proposed that we park near the Expo site (the Washington Convention Center) and take the subway to Union Station. Those things take time, and you have to start early to have a chance at a free street spot (I couldn't let go of the dream), but it was not to be, and again, we had to settle for a less-than-ideal spot in the fee (rhymes with free but it's THE OPPOSITE) parking lot.
9. Then we couldn't figure out how to work the subway farecard vending machine and had to ask for help from an attendant who moved slooooooooooowly.
10. Then we were still unsure which train to take and had just figured it out when a fast-moving gal excused herself past us and threw us off just enough that we fell back into discombobulation and missed the very train that she was rushing to catch.
11. So we had to wait 1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8. or so minutes for the next train.
12. And when we got to Union Station ... we were right in time for the service. We had zero boring waiting-around time. So I had been pushing and fretting for nothing.
Doesn't all this just make you want to sign up for a YaGoof! Caribbean Cruise?!
May 22, 2006
YaGoof! goes to Washington
Haven't posted in a while! Sorry! Janet and I just got back from Book Expo America, the nation's biggest annual book trade show, held this year in Washington, DC. We went as library director (Janet), library volunteer (me), and as authors (both of us). Yes, a long weekend without kids! They were back home with Gram.
For this forum, the main thing is our goofs during the trip. This will take a number of installments. Here goes:
1. As we neared Washington DC, my navigator (Janet) was not functioning (i.e., asleep), and I got off course. When she stirred, I was just starting to realize that we were headed toward Missouri, or thereabouts. We ended up entering Washington through Arlington.
2. One of the great things about the show is FREE BOOKS! The show is for promotion, after all. Publishers hand out samples right and left. Janet totally went out of control. At one point, we walked different parts of the show, and when I found Janet again, she was dragging two full bags (companies also give out a lot of promotional totes at the show). I had two bags myself, and I took everything to the car. Let's just say that I couldn't exactly stride along smoothly. I weighed similarly-loaded bags later, and the contents came to 84 pounds. All together, we brought home 289 pounds of books and about another 40 in promotional literature.
(to be continued, gotta go!)
For this forum, the main thing is our goofs during the trip. This will take a number of installments. Here goes:
1. As we neared Washington DC, my navigator (Janet) was not functioning (i.e., asleep), and I got off course. When she stirred, I was just starting to realize that we were headed toward Missouri, or thereabouts. We ended up entering Washington through Arlington.
2. One of the great things about the show is FREE BOOKS! The show is for promotion, after all. Publishers hand out samples right and left. Janet totally went out of control. At one point, we walked different parts of the show, and when I found Janet again, she was dragging two full bags (companies also give out a lot of promotional totes at the show). I had two bags myself, and I took everything to the car. Let's just say that I couldn't exactly stride along smoothly. I weighed similarly-loaded bags later, and the contents came to 84 pounds. All together, we brought home 289 pounds of books and about another 40 in promotional literature.
(to be continued, gotta go!)
May 15, 2006
Guys, I have bad news ...
Our first international YaGoof! story. You can read a full article about it here, but a brief summary is:
A guy named Guy was waiting at a BBC television studio when another guy came in after a different guy named Guy, and the first guy (the wrong Guy) ended up on live TV being interviewed about internet downloads. The other guy (the right Guy) saw this happening, and thought: "Hey, they got the wrong guy!"
BBC, Ya Goofed!
A guy named Guy was waiting at a BBC television studio when another guy came in after a different guy named Guy, and the first guy (the wrong Guy) ended up on live TV being interviewed about internet downloads. The other guy (the right Guy) saw this happening, and thought: "Hey, they got the wrong guy!"
BBC, Ya Goofed!
May 14, 2006
H2O x 2 for you, Mom!
Happy Mother's Day! We both got you the same gift ... water in a plastic cup!?!
Guys! Ya Goofs!
Okay, okay, these are actually pictures of Emmett and Ethan as servers at "Luigi's Restaurant" in the basement of the Hollidaysburg Church of the Brethren on Saturday evening. Mom was delighted to eat in such a fancy place with such handsome waiters.
May 13, 2006
We'll get the hang of this TV thing yet
Last Thursday was voting day on American Inventor. If you haven't watched the show, learn about it here.
The consensus family choice was Janusz Liberkowski, inventor of the Anecia Survival Capsule, a promising advancement in child safety seats. So when the show was done, I dialed the number set aside for him, 1-866-U-PICK-04, and I instructed the boys to hit redial until we had used up our maximum of five votes per phone number. I went up to bed to read.
They came up shortly and said, "Dad, you dialed the number to vote for Matt Galant." (Matt Galant is the host of the show.)
"Huh?"
"You dialed 1-866-U-PICK-05." They gleefully showed me this on the phone's digital display.
Dad, Ya—
Oh, but wait a second: Today, we were talking about the show, and I double-checked that the guys used all of our votes for Janusz.
"Yeah," said Ethan, "and then I called five times for Erik (another contestant)."
"Well, only the first five calls will count," I said. "There's a limit of five calls per number."
"Erik was number 1."
"Five calls per phone number."
"See?" Emmett said. "I told ya."
So I'm not the only one who can't follow Reality TV instructions.
Dad and Ethan, Ya Goofs!
The consensus family choice was Janusz Liberkowski, inventor of the Anecia Survival Capsule, a promising advancement in child safety seats. So when the show was done, I dialed the number set aside for him, 1-866-U-PICK-04, and I instructed the boys to hit redial until we had used up our maximum of five votes per phone number. I went up to bed to read.
They came up shortly and said, "Dad, you dialed the number to vote for Matt Galant." (Matt Galant is the host of the show.)
"Huh?"
"You dialed 1-866-U-PICK-05." They gleefully showed me this on the phone's digital display.
Dad, Ya—
Oh, but wait a second: Today, we were talking about the show, and I double-checked that the guys used all of our votes for Janusz.
"Yeah," said Ethan, "and then I called five times for Erik (another contestant)."
"Well, only the first five calls will count," I said. "There's a limit of five calls per number."
"Erik was number 1."
"Five calls per phone number."
"See?" Emmett said. "I told ya."
So I'm not the only one who can't follow Reality TV instructions.
Dad and Ethan, Ya Goofs!
May 8, 2006
Beware of (wish of could tell you)!
A killer goof story came my way today. I don't want to embarrass the person involved, but I must tell this story. It's just too rich. So I'll split the difference between protecting and telling like so:
(By the way, this is a CLEAN story.)
What happened was, a couple that we know through (can't tell you what) were (can't tell you what they were doing). And (this thing that they were doing) involves (doing this particular thing). But by mistake, the wife used (can't tell you what) instead of (also can't tell you)! And this boy who was there had just (can't tell you what he did) and then (can't tell you what else he did)!
Fortunately, the wife immediately realized that she had used the (stuff) instead of the (other stuff). They called after the boy, and he spit out the (something that you can spit out), and got some water to rinse out his mouth.
Man! That just goes to show that you have to be careful when you (see above), not to mention when you (also see above)!
And it also means that we have to say: (You know who you are), Ya Goof!
(By the way, this is a CLEAN story.)
What happened was, a couple that we know through (can't tell you what) were (can't tell you what they were doing). And (this thing that they were doing) involves (doing this particular thing). But by mistake, the wife used (can't tell you what) instead of (also can't tell you)! And this boy who was there had just (can't tell you what he did) and then (can't tell you what else he did)!
Fortunately, the wife immediately realized that she had used the (stuff) instead of the (other stuff). They called after the boy, and he spit out the (something that you can spit out), and got some water to rinse out his mouth.
Man! That just goes to show that you have to be careful when you (see above), not to mention when you (also see above)!
And it also means that we have to say: (You know who you are), Ya Goof!
May 5, 2006
Ouch, frozen-dairy-treat-induced color blindness!
Okay, see if you can follow this:
Emmett's Little League team had a game tonight at 6:00. His team was 0-3 (two close losses and one not-so-close), and Coach Ottaway had emailed earlier today that he planned to take the team to Meadows afterward, win or lose. (Attention, non-local readers, Meadows is the place to get the world's best frozen custard and a cherished after-game tradition around here.) Coach O also noted that tonight's opponent was also winless, so the evening could get interesting.
The thing is, Emmett had to miss the game. He sang at a county-wide Song Fest tonight at Northern Bedford High School. Over 100 singers in grades 5 and 6. A very nice event.
It happened to finish around the same time as the game would have, so it looked like we could get to Meadows about the same time as Emmett's team. But when we arrived, no one from Emmett's team was there. We figured they had come and gone. We went ahead and ordered.
As we were licking and spooning, however, one of the players' mom's appeared, and I started to notice boys in uniform lining up at the "player window" at the side of the stand. Emmett came over and said that his team was just then arriving—after a win that went to an extra inning!
It made me smile to see Emmett in his dress pants and shiny black shoes—which he wears next to never—amid his teammates in uniform. When he drifted closer to Ethan and me, I said, "Guys, look how the lights from the stand make the uniforms look purple." (Emmett's team wears navy.)
"Da-ad!" they both said. "That is purple! That's the other team!"
Apparently, the other team (now 0-4) had also decided to go to Meadows win or lose ... and Emmett had been talking to some kids he knew from the other team ... and the players kind of all look alike to me ... and I need to say: Dad, Ya Goof!
Emmett's Little League team had a game tonight at 6:00. His team was 0-3 (two close losses and one not-so-close), and Coach Ottaway had emailed earlier today that he planned to take the team to Meadows afterward, win or lose. (Attention, non-local readers, Meadows is the place to get the world's best frozen custard and a cherished after-game tradition around here.) Coach O also noted that tonight's opponent was also winless, so the evening could get interesting.
The thing is, Emmett had to miss the game. He sang at a county-wide Song Fest tonight at Northern Bedford High School. Over 100 singers in grades 5 and 6. A very nice event.
It happened to finish around the same time as the game would have, so it looked like we could get to Meadows about the same time as Emmett's team. But when we arrived, no one from Emmett's team was there. We figured they had come and gone. We went ahead and ordered.
As we were licking and spooning, however, one of the players' mom's appeared, and I started to notice boys in uniform lining up at the "player window" at the side of the stand. Emmett came over and said that his team was just then arriving—after a win that went to an extra inning!
It made me smile to see Emmett in his dress pants and shiny black shoes—which he wears next to never—amid his teammates in uniform. When he drifted closer to Ethan and me, I said, "Guys, look how the lights from the stand make the uniforms look purple." (Emmett's team wears navy.)
"Da-ad!" they both said. "That is purple! That's the other team!"
Apparently, the other team (now 0-4) had also decided to go to Meadows win or lose ... and Emmett had been talking to some kids he knew from the other team ... and the players kind of all look alike to me ... and I need to say: Dad, Ya Goof!
May 4, 2006
The accidental Queen of Spin
This is not a review of the TV show American Inventor; I promised not to do any more reviews. But here's a quick story after tonight's viewing.
If you're not familiar with the show, it's on ABC, and it's basically American Idol with inventors. Same kind of process of funneling down wanna-bes. Hundreds bring their inventions; fifty are chosen; then twelve; and over the most recent four shows, a final four. Next week, the winner will be chosen by viewer calls.
The final finalist, chosen tonight, is Janusz Liberkowski (first name pronounced yah-NOOSH), a man who developed a car seat that spins rather than restraining like a traditional car seat. His work has a sad origin; it began after his infant daughter died in a car crash. He reports that every day, three children die in car accidents despite being in a car seat. He's determined to save lives with a seat that drastically reduces impact on children. Truly inspiring.
Like all twelve semi-finalists, he got a month and $50,000 to spend developing his prototype. An engineering firm brought the device a long way, and a crash test did indeed show potential to reduce impact on children and save lives . A high-speed camera showed that the test model spun its baby completely around but prevented injury.
The new prototype is large, and that's a strike against its feasibility. However, the inventor predicts that carmakers will respond to the demand for greater safety. Janet was impressed by the statement.
"It's revolutionary," she said.
"Revolutionary," Ethan repeated. "Get it?"
"What?" Janet said. "I don't get it."
She made one of the great puns of all time and didn't know it.
If you don't get it either, just think for a minute, and it will come to you, like it soon did for Janet.
Still, for being slow on the uptake, we have to say it: Janet, Ya Goof!
If you're not familiar with the show, it's on ABC, and it's basically American Idol with inventors. Same kind of process of funneling down wanna-bes. Hundreds bring their inventions; fifty are chosen; then twelve; and over the most recent four shows, a final four. Next week, the winner will be chosen by viewer calls.
The final finalist, chosen tonight, is Janusz Liberkowski (first name pronounced yah-NOOSH), a man who developed a car seat that spins rather than restraining like a traditional car seat. His work has a sad origin; it began after his infant daughter died in a car crash. He reports that every day, three children die in car accidents despite being in a car seat. He's determined to save lives with a seat that drastically reduces impact on children. Truly inspiring.
Like all twelve semi-finalists, he got a month and $50,000 to spend developing his prototype. An engineering firm brought the device a long way, and a crash test did indeed show potential to reduce impact on children and save lives . A high-speed camera showed that the test model spun its baby completely around but prevented injury.
The new prototype is large, and that's a strike against its feasibility. However, the inventor predicts that carmakers will respond to the demand for greater safety. Janet was impressed by the statement.
"It's revolutionary," she said.
"Revolutionary," Ethan repeated. "Get it?"
"What?" Janet said. "I don't get it."
She made one of the great puns of all time and didn't know it.
If you don't get it either, just think for a minute, and it will come to you, like it soon did for Janet.
Still, for being slow on the uptake, we have to say it: Janet, Ya Goof!
Start every day with a good bicker-fast
Due to getting up at different times for school, Ethan and Emmett usually don't eat breakfast together. Thank goodness. I prefer not to start the day with bickering. It's bad enough at the end of the day.
At the end of Every. Single. Day.
This morning, however, the boys did eat breakfast at the same time, because Emmett has an early orchestra practice. Here's what Emmett chose:
And how did that create friction? Not because Ethan wanted the same thing. Not because Ethan wanted the microwave at the same time. Not because Emmett took the last of the ketchup to accompany the eggs.
No, it was too much hole-poking.
You know how with frozen meals, you poke (or peel back) the plastic to let out steam? Well, Emmett poked and poked and poked and poked and ...
"Emmett! That's enough holes!"
Emmett launched into some defense of the number of holes. And the bickering was on. Sigh.
I counted the holes. Thirteen.
Guys! Ya Goofs!
At the end of Every. Single. Day.
This morning, however, the boys did eat breakfast at the same time, because Emmett has an early orchestra practice. Here's what Emmett chose:
And how did that create friction? Not because Ethan wanted the same thing. Not because Ethan wanted the microwave at the same time. Not because Emmett took the last of the ketchup to accompany the eggs.
No, it was too much hole-poking.
You know how with frozen meals, you poke (or peel back) the plastic to let out steam? Well, Emmett poked and poked and poked and poked and ...
"Emmett! That's enough holes!"
Emmett launched into some defense of the number of holes. And the bickering was on. Sigh.
I counted the holes. Thirteen.
Guys! Ya Goofs!
May 2, 2006
Gothic Raccoon to the rescue!
Tonight was the long-awaited performance of the play "Mr. Toad's Mad Adventures" at Longer Elementary School. Congratulations to Director Melissa Diminick (the better half of my fellow New Pigger Scott Diminick) and the hard-working "Drama Mamas" who produced the show. Not to mention the fine cast and crew. My favorite actor was Team EEK!'s own Emmett Eldred.
Oh, yeah, this forum is about goofs ... How about this: In a late scene, the crew and actors were scrambling to clear away furniture from the previous scene. Emmett seized a chair that someone else was dragging off, and we could tell from the body language that the other person had forgotten that the chair was needed in the next scene. Indeed, the character Rat stood up on it to address the crowd. Way to go, Emmett! You deserve all the invisible cheese you ate in that scene! (It was a party scene.)
So the chair-dragging was the goof? Yes and no. When we got home, Emmett mentioned that at when the play was performed earlier in the day, he was the one mistakenly removing it. "I was dragging along three people who were trying to stop me," he said. No wonder he remembered tonight. So ...
Emmett, Ya Goof!
P.S. Here's a picture of Emmett in his role as the judge, along with his pal Roman Drake as Bertie, a motorist. Janet wasn't happy with how she applied makeup around Emmett's eyes. But Emmett didn't mind; he was rather pleased to look like (in his words) a Gothic raccoon.
Oh, yeah, this forum is about goofs ... How about this: In a late scene, the crew and actors were scrambling to clear away furniture from the previous scene. Emmett seized a chair that someone else was dragging off, and we could tell from the body language that the other person had forgotten that the chair was needed in the next scene. Indeed, the character Rat stood up on it to address the crowd. Way to go, Emmett! You deserve all the invisible cheese you ate in that scene! (It was a party scene.)
So the chair-dragging was the goof? Yes and no. When we got home, Emmett mentioned that at when the play was performed earlier in the day, he was the one mistakenly removing it. "I was dragging along three people who were trying to stop me," he said. No wonder he remembered tonight. So ...
Emmett, Ya Goof!
P.S. Here's a picture of Emmett in his role as the judge, along with his pal Roman Drake as Bertie, a motorist. Janet wasn't happy with how she applied makeup around Emmett's eyes. But Emmett didn't mind; he was rather pleased to look like (in his words) a Gothic raccoon.
May 1, 2006
But the show must go on
This morning, I dropped Emmett at orchestra practice. The spring concert is this Thursday. This afternoon, I asked him how it went. He reported that the practice went well, but that there was an accident at the end. One child tripped and fell into another and ... SNAPPED THE NECK OF HER CELLO! Just after the last practice! Oooooooh, that hurts. I can't address anyone as Ya-Know-What. I just needed to share.
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