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Living in My Parents’ Basement
Thanks to Time Warner, I’m temporarily housed in my parents’ basement. On Saturday, The Missus called to cancel basic cable. We had a six-month deal going and the six month mark was only days away. We probably would have extended our subscription had they offered to continue the deal, but they didn’t. No complaints here; it’s their lost revenue.
Unfortunately, the young man who answered the phone at 8:01 a.m. on Saturday apparently was still hungover. As I found out during my 20-minute support call last night, he canceled our Road Runner service in addition to our television service. Grr. That wouldn’t be a huge deal except for the fact that I work from home and I rely on that internet connection for my livelihood. At least the tech support guy and customer service lady I spoke with last night were helpful.
So here I am, setting up office in the spot I used to sit and play Nintendo for hours on end. Funny, the basement used to seem so much bigger.
Dream World
I am a vivid dreamer. I always have been. I don’t dream every night—or rather, I don’t remember my dreams every morning—but I go in streaks. Right now I’m in the midst of a dream-heavy streak. Last night’s dream selection included:
- A day in high school. Unlike my recurring school-related anxiety dream—I didn’t do my homework! I didn’t study for the test! I can’t open my locker!—this one was pretty subdued. My first problem: I couldn’t figure out if it was cool to wear my backpack with one strap or two. I ran into my cousin who happened to be teaching at the school. He told me that everything was going great for him, except he couldn’t get Microsoft Word to retain his contact information. It kept resorting to the default. I was on my way to fix it for him.
- A flashback to my days playing video games at the arcade at East Park Plaza. I stood in the arcade with somebody and told them about how there was a time when Street Fighter 2 machines “were all along that wall, and halfway down this row”.
- A scary dream in which a fictionalized version of a local building—I won’t say which one—was brought down implosion-style by terrorists. I stood with a couple family members nearby when we heard “pop pop pop pop”. We looked up to see the building collapse on itself, apparently with many people inside. I woke up with my heart racing after that one.
- A bizarre dream in which a friend of mine was an astronaut, and he and his crew were showing off NASA’s new spaceship for the first time. It was a giant, ray-shaped ship that could take off and land vertically. We got to tour the ship. It was like a big, multi-level apartment on the inside. In the kitchen, a huge container of spaghetti marinara was waiting for the crew. I spoke with my friend about how I wasn’t crazy about NASA sticking with the crappy space shuttle for so long, and how the agency exceeded my expectations by a mile with this new ship.
- An anxiety dream (one of my recurring ones) in which I had a difficult time preparing for an important soccer match because my back was really sore. I awoke to find myself sleeping in a really awkward position that was putting a lot of pressure on my back.
Now that I think about it, I’m impressed I remember so much about those five dreams. Would any of you amateur shrinks care to tell me what these dreams—in isolation or in combination—say about me?
Dancing Man
Robbie’s got the moves, baby:
Oh, that big pile of toys? It should be gone soon. Huzzah! The toy box we’ve been waiting on for months is finally here. Long story. I’m just glad we can de-clutter a little bit.
Watch Out, Bobby Flay
Robbie is quickly advancing in the kitchen. First he simply observed The Missus at work. Then he progressed to assisting her. Today, a new milestone: he created his own recipe. Now, I can’t pretend to replicate the master chef’s work, but here is my best attempt at sharing his recipe with the world.
Chef Robbie’s Graham Cracker Surprise
- Gather all of the bowls you can find. Big bowls, little bowls, glass bowls, metal bowls ... get them all out and scatter them across the floor.
- Pull a chair across the kitchen and position it near your workspace. You’ll need to be able to reach the countertop, after all.
- Place the bowls on the counter. This may require several trips onto and off of the chair.
- Once the bowls are on the counter, look around for ingredients within arm’s reach. Grab that box of graham crackers over there.
- Empty the contents of the box into one of the bowls.
- Open utensils drawer and find a spoon. (I hope you didn’t block the drawer with the chair! If you did, get off the chair and move it out of the way.) Use the spoon to stir the ingredients around the bowl.
- Now use the spoon to serve yourself. Bon apetite!
Sounds delicious, doesn’t it?
Halloween at Gateway
The Wilsons and the Fines had a fine time trick-or-treating at Gateway last night. Here is a video, and inside are a bunch of photos.
See You at the Mall
It’s official, the Wilsons will be trick-or-treating at Gateway tomorrow night. I apologize ahead of time to the 8 kids who will find our porch light turned off. You aren’t missing much; it’s not like we would have had good candy for you anyway. The real treat would be if The Missus baked you some tasty desserts. But if she were to do that, some moron parent would call the cops on us:
9-1-1: 9-1-1, what is your emergency?
Psychotic Mother: OHMYGOD SOME WOMAN TRIED TO GIVE MY KID DELICIOUS HOMEMADE FOOD!
9-1-1: She didn’t give your kid pre-wrapped, heavily-processed candy?
PM: NO! IT’S HOMEMADE AND WRAPPED IN SARAN WRAP!
9-1-1: Does it contain a dangerous item, such as a needle?
PM: NO, BUT I’M PRETTY SURE IT HAS SOME TRANS FATS!
9-1-1: The SWAT and HAZMAT teams are on the way, ma’am.
Having one count of “alleged attempted poisoning of trick-or-treaters” on our record would make it darn near impossible for us to adopt again.
If you plan to take your kid(s) to Gateway tomorrow, we would love to say hi. Let me know if you plan to be there.
Thank You Nana and Papa
My mom likes to send Robert cards for all sorts of occasions, and she also likes to include a buck or two for his piggy bank. Inside his Halloween card was a crisp two-dollar bill. Here’s Robert saying thanks:
You’re watching history in this video, by the way. The video captures the first time Robbie said “thank you”.
Tying Shoes
I took this photo today while The Missus and Robbie prepared to go to the grocery store.
If Bad Things Come in Threes, One Person is Still in Trouble
A few weeks ago, we had to summon an ambulance to a soccer field because a player was knocked unconscious after a free kick (from his own teammate!) smacked him in the head. Fortunately he came to, and his parents opted to refuse an ambulance transport to the hospital. Hopefully they took him on their own.
Last night we had to summon an ambulance again, this time for a broken leg. I didn’t see it—I was on the far side of the field—but apparently it snapped like a twig. The break wasn’t associated with a foul or anything. Nobody seems to have seen it clearly, but one guess is that he may have caught his toe on the turf while kicking the ball.
In any event, that’s two. If it’s true that bad things come in threes, there remains one more ambulance to be summoned this season. But bad news, folks: I only have four more matches on my calendar right now (plus the potential for one or two post-season matches), so if you see me on your game, it could be you. Or heck, it could be me. Time to check up on that referee insurance…
Two-Thirds of the Way to a Full Head of Hair
I want to congratulate The Missus for donating yet another ponytail to Locks of Love, “a public non-profit organization that provides hairpieces to financially disadvantaged children under age 18 suffering from long-term medical hair loss from any diagnosis”. This was The Missus’ fourth donation, putting her well on her way to donating an entire hairpiece (each of which requires 6-10 ponytails). If you have the ability to grow a ponytail measuring at least ten inches, please consider donating it.
Mind Dump
I have way too many things on my mind right now. It’s causing me a bunch of stress (some good, some bad), and I need to get it off my shoulders. So here’s a quick mind dump:
Robert is awesome. I know I’ve said that before. I’ll say it again. (And again.) I really enjoy spending time with him, and I know The Missus does, too. He is gradually beginning to pick up some new words, which is nice. He has always been a vocal and communicative kid, but not much of a verbal kid. To hear him say “buh!” while pointing at birds in the sky is a lot of fun. (But geese waddling on the ground, according to Robert, are most definitely not birds.) He is also finally branching out in his food choices. For so long the poor kid gagged every time something with a funky texture went into his mouth. Now he is able to try a variety of different solid foods and find the ones he likes based on taste, not based on whether or not he upchucks. The biggest surprise so far: he likes onion rings.
Work is going well. I’m busy busy busy. That’s great, but it’s also a source of significant stress. It’s a good stress, though. Working on several different projects for several different “bosses” really taxes the brain. I love it, and if I can keep the money coming in, I’ll keep doing it as long as I can.
The big stressor of the week comes from an incident in a college soccer match on Tuesday. Over 89 minutes into the game—that’s less than a minute left—there was a foul. Then a chest bump. Then a tackle. Then a really hard tackle. When all was said and done, one player from each team was ejected for fighting, and two other players were cautioned (yellow carded) for related offenses. I have very few qualms with how my assistants and I handled the situation. I was positioned exactly where I needed to be positioned on the field. My AR and I quickly identified the offenders and prevented others from joining in. Once everything calmed down, we stepped back and extremely carefully broke down the situation to make sure we “cleaned up” by the book. We reviewed the sanctions with the captains and each of the coaches. All in all, our response was nearly textbook, and I have been told so by the athletic conference commissioner and my referee chapter’s president. So why am I so stressed?
I think it’s just my nature. I don’t like messiness in my soccer matches. Ejections are messy. Ejections for fighting are even messier (harsher penalties). A thousand people could tell me I handled the situation as well as could be expected, and still I would review the situation over and over in my head.
Plus, it’s just plain stressful having to so carefully review the situation and report it to all the people I’ve reported to. First, the other referees and I talked for nearly 30 minutes after the match. I have spoken twice with the athletic conference commissioner. I have filled out forms and written supplemental reports. I’ve sent and received a bunch of e-mails. Goofing up during the administrative phase can be just as damaging to my career and to the teams as if I had goofed up during the match.
One big positive item is that the incident was caught on video, and I now have the video in my possession. I’ve never before seen myself on video in a “crisis” situation. The video is short (some parts of the “clean-up” are edited out) but very helpful. For example, I mis-remembered how the whole thing started. It’s a great lesson in perception, memory, and reality. My positioning on the play was as good as could be expected, given the context of the play at the time. I closed the distance quickly when trouble first started. At the time the last player earned his ejection, I was literally one foot away from the action. I don’t like the way I show cards to players, though. I look too angry, like I’m trying to bop them on the head with the card. I’ll need to change that. Then there’s the injured player laying on the turf in the middle of all the action, sprawled out, not moving. It looks bad on the video, but no way was I going to let trainers come onto the field until I knew the situation had calmed down. The last thing I needed was trainers getting into it with players.
Anyway, that’s enough of that. There’s my mind dump. Time to get back to work!
Robert at the Park
Robert and I made this video while we played at Zeman tonight. The quality is pretty poor, but hey, it’s YouTube.
Homefront News
Whew, what a busy weekend. I worked late on Friday night and again on Saturday morning. Then I reffed two soccer matches at Doane that night, followed by two youth matches at Den Hartog on Sunday morning. Six hours of running within 20 hours makes Mr. Wilson a tired boy.
During the second youth match we had a bit of a scary situation. A player was hit in the head by an errant free kick. I didn’t see it—like a good referee I was watching the “drop zone”, not the kick itself—but I heard it. I turned and jogged to the player fully expecting the usual ball + face = bloody nose equation. No big deal, right? Instead, I found an unconscious player curled into the fetal position. Crap.
Fortunately, there one of the parents on the sideline was a physician, so I put him in charge. The paramedics were called, but in the end the player walked off the field under his own, slightly disoriented, power. He didn’t leave in the ambulance, but hopefully his parents took him to the hospital to get checked out.
(Aside: Why in the world should two firetrucks and an ambulance respond to a simple blow to the head? Shouldn’t a single ambulance suffice? Can anybody in the medical community explain to me how that is not a tremendous waste of resources?)
In other 625 Elm Street news, Robbie is doing awesome these days. He still doesn’t say many actual words, but physically the kid is pretty darn impressive. He has no fear and, apparently, a relatively high tolerance for pain. That’s great for brushing aside skinned knees today, but does this mean we have a future X-Games participant on our hands? Dad can probably handle that, and mom could probably get used to it. But grandma and Aunt Brooke will have heart attacks if that happens. For now, he walks, runs, climbs, and tumbles as well as some kids twice his age. If he weren’t so shrimpy he could do even more. I’ve even almost taught him to jump. We almost have liftoff. We’ll get there.
Last night we had family photos taken. I’ll post one once we get them back.
Bored? Help Me Test a New ExpressionEngine Module
If you are feeling bored, go try out Weever, my new nested comments module for ExpressionEngine. The demo is nothing fancy, but let me know what you think. Do you think I should enable nested comments on Lincolnite, or should I stick with the flat, date-ordered comments?
When Memory Fails
I feel tremendous sympathy for the family of Ivan Havlovic, whose 10-block trip turned into a journey to Kansas. My grandfather did something very similar many years ago. By sheer coincidence, he happened to run out of gas in just the right place. The State Trooper who found my grandfather recognized his name, so he called my cousin, who was also a Trooper, and who lived nearby. Everything turned out well, but grandpa never drove again. Years of mental decline followed. It sounds like a terrible story, and to some degree it is. But my grandpa was happy as a clam holed up in his own little world. That’s worth something, right?
Anyway, good luck to Mr. Havlovic’s family. Keep a sense of humor, folks.
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