“You know,” my roommate said to me over the wind and traffic noise in his CJ7 Jeep as we blasted down the highway, “Nobody ever had to beg me to play hockey.” We were roommates and teammates on Colorado’s 2nd-ever team in the Major League Roller Hockey comp. The 1st-ever team was the region’s Golden Boys, the top players and shiniest roller hockey heroes in Denver’s surrounds. The Rocky Mountain Wolverines boasted years and years of collegiate and junior ice hockey talent and the leftovers, politically and otherwise, tried out for the “other” team in a bit of a coup (or a fu-coup, as it were). Our coach/owner was as ragtag as we were and we all loved the idea that nobody expected us to even form a team, let alone win anything. Coach was as full of big talk and big promises as he was empty when the bar tab came around. We exchanged looks at times, but we all believed because we wanted to play so badly. We started out as the Mile High Moose and we played… Read moreNobody ever had to beg me to play hockey
Somedays, I miss blogging for the sake of it. I mean, I do it now, but there was a time that I had one blog for ALL the people that knew me, where I had to watch my mouth (and my step), one for all the funny people that DIDN’T know me (in real life) and one that NOBODY read (shhh, it’s a secret!). On those days, it didn’t matter what I felt like writing, I could just write whatever I wanted. I could post pictures of my cute kids on the one, I could write something about farts and sex on the other and I could write about my wife’s shithead siblings on the other. Now there’s just this one, and the expanding freedom I’m feeling with it only comes from the fact that nobody reads it. Which makes me sad, of sorts. And happy, of sorts. I do wonder what people think when they stop by, like folks from the ToyNerd forums, or SwordNerds, or WritingNerds, or IT Nerds (why do I only know nerds?!), but then I… Read moreWriting, or Watching the Wrench-Eater
Today is Wednesday. That’s really only notable in that we all thought it was Thursday, because Thursday is Bin Day and our bins are proudly out front of our house, patiently waiting to be emptied. Georgia dutifully emptied all the bins into them last night, the nappy bucket and a few assorted plastic food containers that were partially forgotten in the back of the fridge. None of us thought to check the day. It always amuses me that the recycling bin only gets picked up every other week, and the regular rubbish gets it every week. This is amusing only if you look at our bins on pickup day, as the recycling is overflowing and the rubbish bin is half full. A 2-to-1 ratio isn’t bad. Go Hippies! Boo and I are back at the little playground and it’s another beautiful sunny day. This time, the sun only has to fight with a few clouds, but the warmth is a mixture of sun-baking dry and did rain/gonna rain humidity. The ‘bowl’ of the park is filled again and I fight… Read moreTeething
While the older two have to go to their court-appointed visitation (that they hate) every fortnight (because they had better lawyers) at his parents (because he can’t look after them on his own) we occasionally partake in as much of a non-kiddifying as we can, and Jade gets to go to Nanny & Poppy’s by herself. They love it because she’s possessing of a magical energy that seems to infuse everybody’s life that she touches, and she loves it because, “They let me do what I want Daddy, whatever I want to do!” Thankfully, they were lucky enough to get in on some more Jade Art, and we were lucky enough to get some of it home with her. Enjoy. This is a little monster girl who spreads love. Even though she’s a monster, she’s still pretty, and she fills the air with love. Yes, yes she does. When I think, “Little Monster Girl” I certainly think about the air filling with love, instead of terrified shrieks and the sound of feet running away. Jade with a little baby rabbit. … Read moreBaby Rabbits and Love Drawings
A long overdue photo/video roundup from the last few months or so. My Boo’s 1st birthday party. Well, party insofar as we all sat around eating food, drinking things and eating cake before the Booster unwrapped his Granbo Gift. “Holy Toys of Awesome Batman! This time the toy is actually BETTER than the box! For now…” “Toldjoo. AWESOME. Sanks Granbo!” Putting him back in his chair, after some mild eatingtons, even for a birthday cake, wasn’t particularly appreciated. This… is your 1-year old turning one. A smile would frickin’ kill him, I’m sure. ONE smile son? Ah well. Jadey is apparently trying to make up for the lack of smile by putting 3 into hers. George throws in her usual modelesque 1000-watt smile and my biggest boy is his usual, calm-cool-collected and handsome self. WHOA, there we go! Happy First Bithday my beautiful Baby Boy Boo. My girls helping me with dinner. For as much work as she is trying to get her to bathe properly, not disrobe and throw clothes everywhere, and sweep up properly when spilling Cheerios everywhere,… Read moreA Photo/Video Update
I’m posting this picture of him to set the tone. You see, this is more than just my baby. He’s… I don’t know how else to say it, but he’s magical. He’s wonderful and one of the best things that could ever happen to anybody. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s interactive and sweet. He barely, if ever, cries. No shit. I’ve heard him cry about once that I can remember. It’s not that things don’t bother him, they do, but he yells at them or about them and then me or mummy sort them out. Why cry? There’s simply no need. He’s 6 months old now. Well, nearly, and he’s got two little teeth in the front. He’s eating solid foods every day now and its better at it every meal. But you see, his grandparents know nothing of this. There could be lots of reasons for that. I’ll get there, don’t worry. His grandparents live 12 blocks away. In the same suburb. They’re not invalids. They’re not immobile. They’re not being kept away from him. They’ve got their own… Read moreMy baby’s grandparents.
Hitler Lollies It’s 9:09 AM, I have Cheetos cheeseballs next to me right now, and I have the strongest urge to eat them with a toothpick and start counting cards. Wifeage left a very sweet note for me to find this morning, the kind that signs off with something epic like, “I love you to the moon and back… and back… and back…” and trails off into tiny lettering that you squint to read and finishes with “forever infinity!” Piehead might be coughy, give both kids some Figleaf Shit. “Figleaf Shit” is a codename I devised for the 100% Pure and Unblended Olive Leaf Extract that Wifeage swears by. The need for a codename came about because the children aren’t ready for me to bandy about names like, “Freshly-Squeezed Assjuice from Satan” or “Oh Holy Fuck Why Woman Why Do You Hate Me?” In comparison, not that bad. I give them Figleaf Shit, mixed in with their juice because I’m not a horrible and cruel man. I offered up a lolly chaser, but oldest boy declined. Then I did a… Read moreFigleaf Shit
The best thing about reading something really good is that it inspires you to write something equally good. Well, maybe not “you” but the figurative “you”. Just like when I was a kid and I’d watch The Lone Ranger or Zorro and feel absolutely compelled to go out and try that jump onto the horse’s back my very own self, I’ve always felt a strong pull whenever I’ve really been able to lose myself in someone else’s creative exploits. Art, music, writing, action… it’s never really mattered. It’s as if the artist has somehow put so much of their soul into it that my own innards resonate with a kindred spirit. What. Okay, YOU find a better explanation for why I jumped off the deck knowing full well that saddle was going to crush my nuts. So, reading good things makes me want to write good things. Reading though, is fairly easy. I can lay in bed, falling asleep, and read. I can feed the baby, and read. I can sit on the toilet, the only completely alone spot in… Read moreReading and Writing.
I was a Junior in High School the first time somebody ever called me a writer. The reason that memory has always stood out for me is not because it was momentous at being called a “writer”, because I still figured they were tweed-wearing hermits who didn’t do it for the money. Nup, the reason I remember it was because it was the first writing assignment that I ever said, “Aw, what the hell” towards, and wrote from my heart. I was fairly used to “A”s because I toed the line (on my writing assignments, not when I duct-taped Mrs. Stabnow’s thermos lid from the inside) but the grade on this paper didn’t matter a bit to me. When I saw the “A” I felt more relief than anything, but when I read the next words my spirit actually soared. “Well done Judd. You are a great writer!” But writing a novel is hard. Years and years later and I’m finding it interminably difficult to sit down and work on my novel. I’ve got the goddam thing all written, all… Read moreWhy I’ll make it as a writer… someday.
Hanging out with writers on the forums and the email lists and the newsletters and all that, has taught me a few interesting things about the types of personalities that I’m drawn to. There is a certain level of disappointment that falls over me whenever I see the reaction when I’m saying something mildly inflammatory on Facebook. Sometimes I spout off about how gay people should be able to get married and it shouldn’t be a thing at all, or that I don’t mind if others believe that Jeebus went zombie and then took flight but don’t try to treat it as undeniable fact, and I will inevitably get an earful from the small-minded (usually folks from back home in Montana) that are quick to inform me that there is, in fact, only one way to look at things. Seems to be theirs. At the risk of sounding incredibly wanky and elitist, I’m really enjoying discussions that don’t devolve (too quickly) and the articles and blog posts that talk about industry changes and the way the world is changing in… Read moreA Slightly Different Crowd