Dad's Morning In

The photos Marian posted recently depict Stella in her crib "mosh pit." You'll notice she is slam dancing to some classic Kiss!

Tonight I had duty so that Marian could get some sleep. Stella is stuffed up and uncomfortable so she woke up a few times last night. This morning around 5, she "not want it" her blue pacifier and demanded a "new one." The old one probably tasted bad, I guess. The she called me in and said "nose," perhaps indicating she couldn't breathe through it. "'tella play with toys?" she queried. Of course, to Dad at 5:30 a.m. it does not follow that a stuffy nose entitles one to play with toys. So I put the kibosh to that idea, covered her up with her "bumpy," and I haven't heard much sound from there since.

Of course, now I can't sleep, so I'm burning copies of a wedding we shot in August. The funniest thing that happened at this particular wedding was that the best man hid the keys to the getaway car. Needless to say, the groom felt a little awkward.

50 minutes of silence, and now "'tella wants Mommy!" Daddy will have to do. Oh ... she stopped. Maybe she's realizing that she's REALLY TIRED and that sleep is a good thing after all.

When she is a parent, I will remind her of all the time she wasted not sleeping in her youth.

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I think it's great that Marian started this blog. I never thought about doing it myself, but it's bound to result in more journaling. Paper is sooooo 20th century!

My friend Neal (who is always sending me interesting stuff) sent me a link to Scott Adams' blog. Adams is the creater of Dilbert, and he has a fascinating testimonial of a recent medical problem:

http://dilbertblog.typepad.com/the_dilbert_blog/2006/10/good_news_day.html

A blog is an efficient way to let everyone know at once what you would have said if folks bothered to call. That means we don't need to pass information on the phone to one another anymore. We can just serenade each other with such standards as "biddy, biddy Bider" ("...went up the water spout..."etc.) or "Ko, Ko, uh-oh Ko!", a little ditty that Stella made up all by herself a couple months ago. It's the theme song she created for herself and our dog Kope (Co-pay), but we can all make it our own.

Last night I attended my first book club meeting. There were about 12 of us and we discussed "Saturday" by Ian McKewen(sp?). The narrator in the novel is a British neurosurgeon and there were, in the room, a surgeon, a neurologist, and a retired family doctor. I'm glad I joined the club, because darnit if I can find the time to read these days left to my own devices. Also, it is a great place to get free medical advice. So next we're reading "The March" by E.L. Doctorow and that should be fun, hanging out with Sherman as he razes the South. We will find out if, in our group, there are any rapers and pillagers who can speak first-hand to the novel's authenticity. ("I noticed that in burning the farm, the character used gasoline to start the blaze. In 1864, peat moss would have been a more likely accelerant. I, of course, prefer jet fuel!")

There was a beep on my email, and I raced over there to discover that Boatman had written me about "lightspeed investor growth." This reminds me of a movie idea that may have been on your mind, too:

Joe, a financial consultant beleaguered by spam, misses several important emails from a client, a girlfriend, and his father. They get lost in the shuffle, or are blocked by his spam-blocker. In any case, he realizes his life has been ruined. So he looks up an old friend, Ed, from junior high, a real computer geek, in order to HUNT DOWN AND KILL ALL SPAMMERS (emphasis added) -- vigilante style!!! (Extra exclamation points delightfully included.) Come to find out that Ed is also a spammer, and Joe has a moral dilemmer on his hands. Does he let his buddy live. NO! OF COURSE NOT! ARE YOU KIDDING!? (Shut up, Id!)

Okay, I vented a little bit. I feel better now. Or maybe it's the VIhAGRA working...

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I almost prefer the word blage to blog. That's because blage is "bagel" rearranged. I love bagels, especially pumpernickel bagels. You wouldn't eat a bogl, would you? No! If you did, that would probably make you Norweigen.

This is just the sort of idiocy that blogs have given voice to. I'll sign out before it gets worse.