Save Xmas Now

The website Save Xmas Now makes light of society's politicizing of Christmas in a definitively comical way. Check it out. I found it while perusing the latest installment of Drawer Geeks . . .

Where I Hang My Hat

Did you know that sink comes in several parts?

It's a serious question, because I didn't know. I guess I always figured that if one needs a sink, one need only go to Home Depot and buy one. Alas, a sink is really just one part of what we know as the sink. The spout, the knobs, and the drain are each entirely different entities, each with their own little parts that contribute to the function of the whole. Kind of like life. But I digress.

I'm learning these things as my girlfriend and I settle into our new place, which is definitely an old place by suburban standards. I've come to describe the joint as a craftsman townhouse, which is a fancy, distinctive way to justify its shortcomings. Indeed, the eight-unit complex, clustered with similarly seemingly dilapidated townhomes and condos, is in a back pocket of a cul-de-sac, close to our college town's downtown to enjoy the bars, restaurants, and antique shops if we ever fancied to walk, but just far enough outside of its scope to avoid the city council's sudden need to throw chic condos on top of everything in the good name of renovation. It's a forgotten part of town, for now.

Don't get me wrong -- I like the place. By the end of next week, the second bedroom should be suitable Fortress of Solitude, where my posters, action figures, and personal mementos will fully congregate for the first time in an unadulterated celebration of me, like some ongoing inanimate party twenty-eight years in the making. School should be out on all of the little man lessons I've had to learn these past three weeks, with the final project being a place we can call our own. Granted, all of this will be just in time for us to take off for a week, to visit my family in Arizona for the holidays . . . but I guess that's the ultimate "man lesson" in all of this. Timing is everything, and usually the only thing you can't control.

If only it could be easily assembled, the flow of it, controlled. Like a sink.

Winter Break is Coming . . .

The Winter Break sign (and the drawing of my staff and I in detail) I made for the door at work. I took our logo out for posterity's sake.

The Attacks on Santa Continue

I heard this on the news last night, but according to this article, it's been in the ether for a few months.

I hadn't realized until recently that Santa dropped the pipe because of "social concerns" regarding the dangers of smoking. What of Frosty's corncob pipe?

Soon enough, Santa will be reduced to knocking on your door, lest his sliding down your chimney be perceived as breaking and entering.

Prank . . . or Political Message, part 1

The attacks on Santa continue:

http://www.missoulian.com/articles/2007/12/01/news/local/news03.txt.

You call that a Christmas prank? This is a Christmas prank . . . or is it a political message?

The Soup

Cockroaches in our new apartment. Moving everything we own just a few hours every night, on a cul-de-sac where folks have no problem triple parking. On Friday, in the rain. Big shots from the county inspecting my staff and work ethic. A fundraiser, a shopping spree for kids, a death in a good friend's family. Last week was one of the most difficult I've experienced in a long time, but fortunately it ended with this:



That's right. Joel McHale, one of my admitted man-crushes, and me. My life is that much more complete.