Stay on target!

When the monkeys were younger, my problem with Christmas shopping was never what to get them but when to stop buying for them. I was mindful of not spoiling them; people who get everything they want inevitably suffer a decline in ambition.

Now that the monkeys are teenagers, I am almost at a complete loss.

They are in possession of portable entertainment devices. Our home also has a video game console, albeit not the one The Boy preferred. While they always have fun with the Smithsonian products I place under the tree, it's kinda boring to only get "educational" stuff as gifts.

Rock Band will be purchased, but as a "family" gift. Every year we also get movies and games (table and video) for the family. Individual gifts, however, are what stump me this year.

The Girl is an artist. She loves to paint and sketch. She also plays the flute, although I never hear her practicing anything. However, it's not her entire life. She also wastes an inordinate amount of her free time playing MMORPGs. Okay, she plays just one. She regularly spends her own cash money to buy virtual crap for her avatar even though gameplay is free.

The Boy loves computers and video games. He also plays an MMORPG, and exchanges labor for paid gameplay. He has a blog about video games. He will talk you into a coma about video games--you'll be like that guy on Airplane! who douses himself with gasoline and lights a match before Ted Striker is asked to fly the plane.

The Baby loves her Webkinz brand stuffed animals, but she really has way too many stuffed animals altogether. She is also an origami prodigy. You should see her miniature dragon. The full-size is hard enough to fold, but her mini is a perfect rendition and it's only one inch long. She's really artsy-craftsy, and enjoys learning new skills. Oh, and here's a surprise--she also has a favorite MMORPG, but it's Webkinz-related.

I had considered just purchasing each kid a brand new laptop, thereby allowing us to declutter the dining room, but several clever friends pointed out that laptops are non-repairable by DIY enthusiasts like me, and they get dropped/damaged on a regular basis. Plus, since they travel, they might very well end up in bedrooms, which is not allowed in my house. Instead I will upgrade the desktops we have and redesign my office space to create a more open look, replacing the hulking armoire-style cabinets.

I don't want to wimp out and just hand them all cash this year, but I'm stuck in a vacuum and just can't think of anything. I also don't want to spoil them or spend a metric assload of money.

Help!

Genius!

I'm watching an "old" concert on VH1 Classic channel by Queen. If I ever have any regrets in this short life, it will be that I never had an opportunity to see the band live in concert before Freddie Mercury's untimely death.

I'll be honest: I don't think The Beatles were all that great. I feel it's more that they hit the market at the right time and then changed enough over time to remain relevant. But brilliant? I dunno. I guess if you call writing music and lyrics whilst stoned "brilliant," then I'll have to give you that, albeit unwillingly. I will admit to being a rather big fan of "Octopus's Garden" and "Yellow Submarine." I'm sure if there were others that I liked, I could name them, but alas. Ear wax.

But Queen... They were just awesome. Every song had butt-kicking music, some had silly lyrics, some songs were heart-breakingly sad, all were singable. Their multi-talented front-man presented himself in the gayest way possible but rocked so hard that most fans just said "meh" and carried on regardless.

At any rate, you have to admit that a guy who can seriously compare feeling in love to wiggling like a jellyfish in a rock song is pretty awesome.

Things seen at high school football games

Possible answers:

• Crack, as in butt-crack
• Inappropriate t-shirts worn by band chaperones
• Hurling, as in lunch, especially when it's too humid to be outdoors
• Gang fights and tasering
• Arrests

The crack episode involves a spectator who is either addicted to tanning or really well over 40 but likes to dress as a teenager. Early in the season, after the national anthem was played, I spotted her as she bent over to fuss with a small child. The waistband of her thong panties clearly showed over the top of her skinny jeans. Add to that her tank top, zip-up skinny jacket, ball cap, and big hoop earrings, and we've got a woman who is refusing to act her age and embarrassing herself in the process.

A couple of weeks ago, a band chaperone was wearing a black, form-fitting tank top that had a big pink-ribbon logo on the front and read "celebrate ta-tas." As if that wasn't bad enough, "ta-tas" was about six inches tall and positioned directly over her breasts.

Yesterday was surprisingly humid after a week of cooler weather. Normal operating procedures have the band kids scattering after school to scarf down food. Most go home while some find fast-food. Yesterday was no different. Skip to the half-time, where the band is free to use the concession stand. One student didn't make it; the humidity was too much and he was sick to his stomach. Worse--his parents did not attend that game, an away game in a run-down neighborhood.

As a chaperone, I like to be last out of the stands to make sure we've got everyone. Last night was no different. As I was walking from the gate to the area where the buses were located, I noticed a group of youths walking with a sense of purpose from across the street into a grassy area located between the gate and me. There was lots of yelling going on, so I looked behind me and saw a second, similar-sized group of youths walking with a sense of purpose from the gate area into the same grassy area. Fighting commenced immediately; however, the police were rigth on top of things. Within moments I heard the sound of a Taser being fired. I looked back and saw a young man squirming on the ground. I announced that we needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

We arrived at the buses only to discover police at our end, too. Some "locals" decided to try to get onto the buses, and were being arrested for trespass. We were encouraged to board the buses as quickly as possible and then shut the doors.

Where were we? Downtown Augusta, at a school known for its quality educational program for "gifted" students.

no chinchilla

For the last two years, I have managed to average one post every three-ish days for a total of 100 posts annually. This year is nearly done and I have only managed 45 posts.

I don't believe there has been less to talk about; I think it's more a matter of motivation. I haven't been too motivated to post to my blog, and feel that maybe I have let you down. The Pittsburg Pirates still blow. People hopped up on drugs still do stupid stuff. Our government may have "changed the guard" but still has its head up its butt.

The only thing I can really report with any newness is that I am helping a gay man design and sew a Halloween costume, and while there will be neither Bedazzling nor fur or feathers, he is most excited.

oh the huge manatee

I love irony. Thanks to Fark.com, I can share this little tidbit:

"Yes, true change has come. Toby 'put a boot up your ass' Keith to perform at Nobel Peace Prize concert in Oslo"

The article goes on to list other artists who will be performing live at the concert. Fark's headline, however, is too awesome to pass by unmentioned.

woah.

Here's a quote you never expected to read, ever:

"This is believed to be the first time that a civilian has been killed by a box of public information leaflets."

Thanks, TimesOnline, for making me laugh at something sad, you evil bastards.

Light's Out!

"The Guiding Light," a daytime soap opera, is going off the air after 72 years. It was one of my beloved grandmother's "shows," and one of the odd ways I've always felt a connection to her, even after her death. And now, just like my sweet grandmother, it, too, will be gone.

My grandmother's house is an oddity. Normally one would enter the house from the front porch and then walk through a sitting room and living room to enter the dining room, kitchen and then bathroom. However, the rear entry was used as a front door because that was where the driveway brought you. Everyone entered into a small 'mud room' and then directly into the dining room. The dining room itself had a huge window looking out onto the front yard, main driveway, and road.

My grandmother never sat anywhere but in the dining room, and always at the head of the table. Within easy reach were her latest crocheting project. CB radio (they were in the sticks, and calls were expensive--heck, the area still doesn't have cellphone reception!), her typewriter, her address book and her radio.

She did not have a television in her dining room until she bought one with a remote back when I was still in elementary school. Instead, she used a special radio which had "TV" selections, and every day she listened to "The Young and the Restless" and "The Guiding Light," in the dining room while her daughters watched "that nonsense" show, "General Hospital" in the living room. She enjoyed clucking over the misadventures of the residents of Genoa City and Springville. In between the episodes, she would make dinner, type out a letter to a friend, or polish our nails with white-out. During the shows, however, we would sit with her at the dining room table, quietly drawing or writing while the episode was played out in our imaginations in time with the radio.

My grandmother was born before the show began, and had followed it nearly every day of her life until she died at age of 72. I think it is only fitting that if one of her favorite shows is also going to die, it should be at the ripe old age of 72.