The reel way to walk a dog

Janet and I took our family's new dog, Duke Ellington Wiley, on a walk last night. It was the first time that I'd used the nifty retractable leash that I'd picked up for him. (The handle is pink, which galls me, and I can't imagine how much it embarrasses Duke, but it was the only one in the right size at the store at the time, and I didn't want to wait.)

Those nifty retractable leashes are harder to handle than I expected. I immediately let out all of the leash, and at the first corner, Duke wrapped it around the telephone pole. While finishing the unwinding, I dropped the handle, and Duke took off. He was quickly at the heels of another couple (dogless) who were out walking.

"First day with the new leash," Janet explained. The couple took it in stride. Well, actually, they had to break stride so as not to trip on Duke, but what I mean is, they were good about it.

I captured Duke after a few attempts. He and the handle were both easier to er, handle after a long walk.

Keith, Ya Goof!

Taking the long short way

The eighth grade football team had its first game yesterday, in Dubois. The last time I was there was last year's first football game, so once again, I printed out directions from Google.

I was zooming up the new section of Interstate when I realized I wasn't supposed to be on it. I was supposed to have exited. Things like that irritate me. I spoke sharply to myself and later had to apologize.

The harsh words turned out to be unnecessary, because I liked the wrong route better than the right route. It was six miles longer, Google tells me, but the roads are better. I came back that way, too, and enjoyed it. I have to hand it to myself.

Good job, Ya Goof.

The right (wrong) way

The wrong (right) way

P.S. While reviwing this post, I noticed that, fittingly, the maps shown indicate the reverse of the routes that I wanted to show. "A" should be "B" and "B" "A."

Keith, Ya Goof.

Looked who showed up for the show

A significant percentage of the readership of YaGoof.com (Okay, one person; still a big chunk of the audience) has correctly pointed out that it's high time for a post.

The thing is, out-of-town visitors got us out of our humdrum routines. But it was definitely worth it. If not for these visitors, there would be no YaGoof.

That's right, my parents came to town.

They were here to see Ethan and Emmett appear in Willy Wonka, Jr, a musical play version of Charlie and the Cholcolate Factory. Ethan played the father of Charlie; Emmett played—oh, what's his name? The character who sings "The Candy Man Can." Give me a few minutes, it'll come to me.

It was not a trip without goofs. Let the tally begin ...

WE WERE LATE TO UNION STATION
Amtrak's Vermonter line, bearing my parents, was due into Union Station in Washington, DC, at 10 pm last Thursday. That was the best mass transit option that we found. They would board in Vermont and disembark in DC after a cushy ride of only eleven hours. (Nothing to it!) One alternative was coming straight to the nearest train station, in Altoona. That sounds good, but it wouldn't have been a straight trip; with layovers in New York and Boston, it would have meant 21 hours. (A travel duration that we ended up giving a run for its money, but that's getting ahead of the story ...)

Janet and I left home at 6 pm, and had a nice drive to DC. We hit the Beltway at about 9:00. In a jiffy, we were in sight of downtown, where Union Station is.

But 45 minutes later, we were still hunting for Union Station. Curses on thee, thou steaming pile of wrong turns!

We used to drive to DC regularly several years ago, when Janet had an internship at the Library of Congress. We both remembered driving in and out as being a piece of cake.

Piece of cake. Riiiiight.

Were our navigation problems this time due to age? Changes to the streets? Fatigue? (Feel free to email other suggested excuses.) At any rate, we made it to Union Station only a couple minutes before the 10:00 train. Only to find that ...

THE TRAIN WAS LATE
As soon as we entered the lobby, the status board told us the 10:00 train would arrive at 11:00.

In reality, it came in at 11:02.

And then ...

WE COULDN'T ESCAPE THE CITY
We drove around and around and around trying to find our old favorite exit route, Connecticut Avenue. On the bright side, Janet and I renewed our tag-team mapreading skills. Meaning that whenever we'd find ourselves off track, I'd pull over and we'd scour the route and plot the next step. Then Janet would trace our progress with her finger. Get lost. Repeat.

We zigged and zagged for about an hour and a half extra and ended up depositing Mom and Daddy at their preferred motel in town at 3:00 am. A trip of only 18 hours for them. (Note: Still a savings of 3 hours over the bus route!)

FRIDAY WAS UNEVENTFUL
Except for the guys being part of a smash performance!

Well, there was one little thing ...

DADDY LOST TRACK OF HIS MOTEL ROOM
He couldn't remember the number after stepping out for a minute, so he had to stop in at the office and find out what it was. "You're not the first this has happened to," the attendant assured him.

SATURDAY WAS GOOFLESS
And there was another excellent play performance!

And it turned out that Janet's mother has a Garmin Navigator in her car that she would let us borrow for the return trip to DC. She showed us how to use it, we gave it a trial run—things were looking up! That eased our minds a little about our impending need to get up at 3:00 am to make it to Union Station on time for my parents' return train. Except that last Sunday, 3:00 am was 2:00 am because ....

WE LOST AN HOUR TO THE SWITCH DAYLIGHT SAVINGS
Sigh.

And naturally ...

THE GPS UNIT DIDN'T WORK
No matter what we tried, the screen kept telling us "GPS OFF." So we had to resort to the trace-the-route-by-the-finger-in-between-instances-of-pulling-over method.

But we did make it to the train on time.

After consulting the Garmin manual when we got home, we learned that when the unit loses its connection to the satellite, you need to take it out of the car to an open area, away from buildings and trees, to re-establish the link. That worked.

All in all, a pleasant and memorable time with ample opportunities to say ... YaGoof!

This side down

My family had to be taught the truth about the frozen pot pie, which is ...

After you heat it, you can take it out of the pan.

When my brother and sisters were growing up, we had frozen pot pies regularly. I think we favored Swanson. They only came in aluminum pans back then, and you had to bake them for dozens and dozens of minutes. I know, I know—the horror.

Anyway, it never occurred to any of us—two parents, two girls, two boys—to take a hot pot pie out of its pan, even though you always lost a little of the crust to those blasted aluminum ridges. Not knowing any better, we were eat-it-right-out-of-the-pan people.

The light bulb switched on for the entire family at once, during one memorable dinner. It was the doing of Curt Koonz—now my brother-in-law, then the boyfriend of my sister, Tina—who was eating with us. When the hot pot pies came to the table, he immediately turned his upside down onto his plate. Plud!

The rest of us stared at him—six pairs of eyes as big as pot pie pans. You could cut the enlightment with a knife. We had always used plates with pot pies only to protect the table—as big coasters, if you will.

Curt froze. "What?" he said.

Then came the sound of a half-dozen flippings. Plud! Plud! Plud! Plud! Plud! Plud!

I haven't eaten a pot pie from the pan since.

And I have five people in mind besides myself right now when I say: YaGoof!

P.S. I had a brain-freeze while writing this. Emmett had to help me with the word for the tight little folds that run up the sides of an aluminum pie pan. Hint: Six letters. Keith, YaGoof!

Misjordin' words during the blake-off

We just experienced a strange confluence of events.

We're watching a recording of the American Idol finale. I'm fighting off contenders for use of the laptop.

Blake Lewis was launching into his first song.

Janet asked me to check the online calendar that we use, at BackpackIt.com; she was afraid that she'd missed Ethan's latest orthodontist appointment. But I found it in the square for May 29.

Just then, Blake reached his big finish.

"Nope, next Tuesday," I said, to Janet (referring to the appointment).

"There is no next Tuesday," Ethan said.

Everyone turned to Ethan and said: "Huh?" He was canceling next Tuesday?

Ethan returned a quizzical look, then understanding dawned. He thought that my "Nope, next Tuesday" meant that I was dissing Blake's performance and suggesting he might do better next week.

Ethan, Ya Goof!

You could say he staged his own disappearance

Yesterday, all of us were primed to go to the Junior High Spring Orchestra Concert and hear Ethan play his cello. That includes Ethan's grandmother, Leah, and great-aunt, Lois. And okay, it leaves out Emmett, who needless to say is a huge Ethan supporter ... but he had a Little League game at the same time.

Until Ethan told us that he mixed up the dates and his concert isn't until next Tuesday.

Janet tried to reach her mother and Lois to tell them the news, but she couldn't. We caught up with them when they ambled over to the Little League Field after the concert.

"It was a nice show," Leah said, "but we never did see Ethan!"

Naturally, I turned to him and said: "Ya Goof!"

Some Chex off the ol' block

It's 24 night. Janet and I are watching the show with our friends Ames and Kenny.

We have some Chex Mix left over from a party on Saturday. I asked Emmett to carry a small plate of the Mix from the kitchen to Kenny in the living room. Along the way, Emmett tipped the plate, so he lost some of the contents. Chex Mix is slippery stuff.

I grumbled a little and helped Emmett whisk-broom the stuff up.

A few minutes later, placing my own Chex Mix to the side, I spilled a bunch, too.

What is that line about the family that goofs together?

The family that goofs together ...

We're behind on posting but not on goofing up. Below are stories from just this week.

* * *

Ethan (though still in eighth grade) starts his day at the high school for Spanish class. Keith usually drives him there "the back way," avoiding the heavy morning bus-and-cars-dropping-off-kids traffic on Hart Street, which runs by the junior high. But Keith absentmindedly turned up Hart Street, making Ethan late arriving at the high school, where Ethan realized that he actually had to start that day at the junior high. So Keith and Ethan took the wrong way to the right place, which turned out to be the wrong place.

* * *

Janet was to pick up Keith at the tire shop on Monday evening but went to the wrong one.

* * *

Keith mistakenly took Janet's keys to work with him. The good news was that she didn't need the car that day. The bad news was that Emmett did need his backpack, which was locked in the car. Keith had to borrow a friend's car and drive back home right after arriving at work.

* * *

So our whole family needs to hear: Ya Goof!

Goof the right thing

We had a nice family afternoon: We watched Rocky Balboa (four thumbs up) and stopped at Wendy's on the way home, prompted by the fact that I happened to have a coupon for each of us for a free Frosty. We planned to get some other food, too.

"Not a whole meal," Janet said, as the boys and I went up to order. "Just a hamburger or something." Which I interpreted as "Let's each have only a hamburger or something." Hold that thought.

In the line, I directed the boys to the Value Menu. Ethan chose chicken nuggets, and Emmett a baked potato.

"I'm thinking Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger," I said.

Which made Ethan switch: "Yeah, yeah. Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger."

I placed the order. I was the only one who wanted the classic chocolate Frosty, by the way. Everyone else opted for the new vanilla Frosty.

At the table, I handed Janet a cheeseburger.

"Oh, I just wanted the Frosty," she said.

Meanwhile, I realized that I had mistakenly ordered Ethan both the chicken nuggets and the bacon cheeseburger.

For those keeping score at home, that would be two goofs out of four items ordered.

So ... Keith, Ya Goof!

But I say that Janet misled me. And I reiterate: I was the only one who didn't choose woossy vanilla for my Frosty.

So, Janet, Ethan and Emmett, you deserve to hear this, too: Ya Goof!

Day of a thousand goofs

Okay, there weren't actually a thousand goofs yesterday. It just seemed like it.

Number 1: Just before school, Emmett barfed in the kitchen. On the area rug. Which violates one of our basic household rules:

Don't barf where it will be hard to clean up.

Toilet. Perfect.
Bucket. Next best place.
Sink. Acceptable.
Linoleum. No problem.
Tabletop, hardwood floor, the lawn, wastebasket. If you must.

As opposed to:

Bedspread.
Under the clawfoot tub.
Heating vent.
Refrigerator door.
Television cabinet.
Car seat.

Not good! None of these! No, no, no!

And not the woven area rug in our kitchen. But Emmett couldn't hold out, so that's where it went.

And he had just drunk a glass of Hi-C with red dye. Which rhymes with ... sigh.

He did feel well enough to go to school, though, so he covered his output with a dish towel for later consideration.

Number 2: Ethan greeted me by explaining what was under the dish towel. This delicious opportunity to deride his brother, however, was blunted by sheepishness over his own goof.

"Dad, I have good news and bad news."

To show me the bad news, he took off his glasses and showed me that one stem now had black electrical tape holding it together.

"The good news is that we started a new unit in school where we get to solder."

I'll have to report back later about that that comes out. But Goof 2 leads us to ...

3. Ethan got the black tape for his glasses from the basement. And to get to the basement, he used the stairs. Which I had painted with oil paint the evening before. And which weren't dry yet. So there were dusty footprints in the still-tacky paint. Sigh (again).

Here's where things get interesting.

I kept my cool about the steps because the truth is that I knew that I would probably need to give them a second coat, anyway. There were some streaks in the first coat. But I kept that to myself and sternly laid down the law.

"I'll do the steps. You help Emmett clean the rug."

Now THAT is what's known as parenting.

For failing to tape off the doorway at the top of the steps, I'll mildly rebuke myself: Keith, Ya Goof!

But for their dastardly deeds, I say yet again to Ethan and Emmett: Ya Goofs!