- RT @moneycrush: Ooo, ING is offering a $100 bonus for opening a business savings account with code BSA324. Guess what I’ll be opening… #
- My kids have pinkeye and are willing to share, if anyone is interested. #
- RT @bitterwallet: If you haven’t yet, pop over to http://enemiesofreason.co.uk/ to see how @antonvowl dealt with lousy content thieves. #
- RT @zen_habits: Excellent: No One Knows What the F*** They’re Doing http://bit.ly/9fsZim #
- @bargainr RE:Hypocrites. No, they aren’t. They have paid for those services, even if unwillingly. in reply to bargainr #
- RT @PhilVillarreal: If vegetables tasted good, there would be no such thing as salad dressing. #
- RT @The_Weakonomist: w00t RT @BreakingNews: Obama announces $8 billion in loan guarantees to build first U.S. nuclear plant in three decades #
- @SuburbanDollar CutePDF. PDF export as a printer. in reply to SuburbanDollar #
- RT @bargainr: There are stocks that have paid out dividends consistently for 50+ years… they’re Dividend Champions http://bit.ly/cSYXrY #
- “Four M&M’s if I poop” Economics lessons from a toddler. http://su.pr/2akWF9 #
- @The_Weakonomist Is seaweed a meat, now? in reply to The_Weakonomist #
Twitter Weekly Updates for 2010-06-05
- Working on my day off and watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. #
- Sushi-coma time. #
- To all the vets who have given their lives to make our way of life possible: Thank you. #
- RT @jeffrosecfp: While you're grilling out tomorrow, REMEMBER what the day is really for http://bit.ly/abE4ms #neverforget #
- Once again, taps and guns keep me from staying dry-eyed. #
- RT @bargainr: Live in an urban area & still use a Back Porch Compost Tumbler to fertilize your garden (via @diyNatural) http://bit.ly/9sQFCC #
- RT @Matt_SF: RT @thegoodhuman President Obama quietly lifted a brief ban on drilling in shallow water last week. http://bit.ly/caDELy #
- Thundercats is coming back! #
- In real life, vampires only sparkle when they are on fire. -Larry Correia #
- Wife found a kitten abandoned in a taped-shut box. Welcome Cat #5 #
The Secret to Fearless Change
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
You never will get where you’re going
If you never get up on your feet
Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowing
A fast walking man is hard to beat
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
If you want to change your direction
If your time of life is at hand
Well don’t be the rule be the exception
A good way to start is to stand
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking cross the floor
Put one foot in front of the other
And soon you’ll be walking out the door
If I want to change the reflection
I see in the mirror each morn
You mean that it’s just my election
To vote for a chance to be reborn
Friends and Acquaintances
“Friends help you move. Good friends help you move bodies.”
-unknown
Some people have dozens of friends. I’m not that guy.
I have 6.
Everybody in the world can be divided into 4 categories.
- Strangers. A xenophobe’s nightmare. These are the people you don’t know, whether they are passing you on the sidewalk, or newborns on the opposite side of the world.
- Acquaintances. These are the people you’ve met, mostly in passing. They tend not to have much effect on your life. You may pass a friendly bus ride in conversation, but it’s nothing that sticks. A waitress, the clerk at the store, a friend’s latest date; these are the people you interact with for just a moment and rarely think about further.
- Friendlies. Most people call these folks friends. I don’t. I’m friendly with them, hence the name, but it’s not true friendship. Often, they are either my wife’s friends, or my friends’ wives. Sometimes, they are a friend of a friend that I only see at parties, or a coworker that I get along with, but never see outside of work. We’re friendly, but not obliged. I may help with some things, but it’s not necessarily a priority. I’ll go to a funeral, but probably won’t help plan it.
- Friends. To me, calling someone a friend is a big deal. I’m willing to do a lot for my friends. They are able to command large amounts of my time, and ask any number of favors. If needed, I’ll open my home or help demolish their’s. Loyalty, honesty, trust, respect, and companionship are all a part of my definition of a friend. If a friend needs help, I’ll come running. In return, I expect the same.
Family tends to fall into the same analogous categories.
It sounds cold, but I hesitate to let people graduate into the final category. My wife used to try to “set me up” with people that she thought I’d like to be friends with, thinking I was sad to have so few friends. It took years for her to realize that I was happy. It’s a matter of quality over quantity. Most of the friends I have, I’ve had for 10 years or more. I’ve known each of them for at least 5 years, not that time is a requirement.
Moving people into the “friends” category is a lot like dating. You get along, so you invite the potential friends out for a drink, one on one. You feel them out to see if they are compatible. You meet their families, share some food, build some history. If it all works out, eventually, you consider them a true friend, even if you couldn’t mark the date of the transition.
You wouldn’t marry everyone you date, so why would turn everyone you basically get along with into a friend?
Do you have a lot of friends? What marks friendship for you?
Hunting Trip Stress
Vegans and hippies won’t enjoy this post.
Friday, I went to a cabin in the woods for a weekend hunting trip with my dad, my brother, and a few other people.
My wife didn’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, she was terrified that I’d walk into the woods and come out in a body bag.
Statistically, it’s safe. Out of 12.5 million hunters, there are only around 100 fatal hunting accidents every year. I think I went hunting for the first time when I was 12, and continued to do so until I was 17, then life started interfering.
That doesn’t matter. By definition phobias aren’t rational. She’s worried and stressing hard.
If she’s had such a hard time with it, why did I go?
First, I asked her six months ago if she’d be all right with the trip. I knew she had some phobias, and have–in fact–tried to make the trip before. Six months ago, she said yes. It was a bit late to back out after I’ve committed to a share of the cabin, bought the bright orange gear, and agreed to drive my brother.
The second reason was more important.
This is one of the few things my dad and I both enjoy. I’m a geek, he’s not. I dig horror and sci-fi, he’s into westerns.
But we both enjoy hunting. The first time he treated me like an adult was the first year we went hunting together, 15 years ago.
My dad taught me to be the man I am. Without him, I have no idea who I’d be or what I’d be doing. My integrity, my work ethic, and my moral code can all be traced to the things he taught me.
This is my chance to spend time with him and have a good time with no TV or whiny kids interfering.
Trading this for a few days of stress at home is something I’m willing to do.
Christmas Magic
When I was little, the world was amazing. The first snowfall was among the best days of the year. Everything was worth exploring, in hopes of discovering something new and fascinating, and everything was fascinating.
Stepping on a crack had serious implications. The wishbone in a turkey earned its name. Blowing out all of the candles on a birthday cake could change your life. The idea of some dude half a world away, watching you, then sneaking into your house to dish our rewards and punishments wasn’t pervy and sick, it was wonderful.
Then, one day, it all changes.
Somebody–a classmate, a older brother, a neighbor–let’s it slip that Santa isn’t real, and the implications snowball. That day, the magic dies.
Wishing on a star? Over.
The Easter Bunny? Hasenpfeffer.
Growing up to be Superman? Welcome to the rat race.
It’s a sad day when kids stop believing in magic.
I don’t believe in lying to my children, but I also don’t believe in destroying their magic. It’s a balancing act.
When my son was 6, an older boy at daycare tried to kill Santa for him. He was upset.
“Dad, is Santa real?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t believe in Santa.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know.”
“Nonononononono! Don’t tell him!”
Was it lying? Probably, but he obviously wasn’t ready to stop believing, so I let him continue. A year later, we had the same conversation, but the results were quite different.
“Dad, you’ve always said that you hate lying, so why did you let me believe in Santa?”
So I told him the truth. Magic is a frail thing that’s nearly impossible to reclaim and I wanted him to have that treasure for as long as possible. And, “Now that you know, you are in on the conspiracy. You’ve been drafted. Don’t kill the magic for anyone else.”
It was weird having him help me stuff stockings.
If you’ve got kids(and celebrate Christmas), how do you handle the Santa problem?