My Personal Book

"My Personal Book" came from a book order in 6th grade. Appreciating the seriousness of the book and the impact it would have on my posterity, I filled it out truthfully.

27 years later... I am thankful for this: that the wishes of my 11-year old self did not come true.

I would be married to Ricky Schroder or Ponyboy from The Outsiders and living with Michael Jackson in a mansion in L.A. with a limousine and a pet mouse.

According to "My Personal Book", I decided that:

"When I have children, the only chores my children will have to do will be ___clean their room___ and ___homework___." That stinks because I have a sink full of dishes with my kid's names written all over them. Dang it.

I also decided that:

"My children will have to obey three rules. These three rules are:

1. no talking back
2. keep clean
3. do what I say"

How about simplify and just have rule #3?

What would I do if I was all alone? On the ALL ALONE page I wrote:

"Here are some of the things I enjoy doing when I'm alone:

1. turning the radio on full blast
2. watching TV
3. ?

I'm all alone and that's as creative as I can get? No #3? TV? Come on!

Other entries in the Personal Book:

"Some grownups make me feel worse because they say things like, "___you're so quiet___," or "___ugly pants___." I've seen my pictures, my pants really were ugly.

"Why are people always telling me to be quiet? After all I am really a very ___loud___ person. Don't they know that I'm noisy because ___I have good jokes___and don't they understand that ___I need the attention___?"

"I'd like to have something to say about how my home is run, but no one will listen. For example, I don't like the way ___my brothers are___." I am sorry brothers! I was lame.

If I could write A SECRET MESSAGE, it would say "Dear Ricky: ___You are so fine___." And that would be the end of the message.

Spring and Summer 1977

I did not write this, but I wish I had. (Thanks for sending this to me Shauna.) Here it goes:

Last weekend I put an exhaust fan in the ceiling for my wife's grandfather. While my wife's brother and I were fitting the fan in between the joists, we found something under the insulation. What we found was this:


A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often blog fodder just falls in my lap, but holy crap this was two solid inches of it, right there for the taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found my next dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old barrels:


Also, I am totally getting this for my bathroom:


There's plenty more home furnishings where those came from, however I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to bore you with something else. The clothes.
The clothes are fantastic.

Here's how to get your butt kicked in elementary school:

Just look at that belt. It's like a boob-job for your pants. He probably needed help just to lift it into place. The belt loops have to be three inches long. And way to pull them up to your armpits, grandpa.

Here's how to get your butt kicked in high school:

This kid looks like he's pretending to be David Soul, who is pretending to be a cop who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15.

Here's how to get your butt kicked on the golf course:

This 'all purpose jumpsuit' is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block. Even then, the only reason you should put this thing on is because the warden made you, and as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a deterrent against rape.

Here's how to get your butt kicked pretty much anywhere:

If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like Mr. Bob 'No-pants' Saget has his hand in the other guy's pocket. In this case, he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened - or if it hasn't happened it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his matching coffee cup.

Here's how to get your butt kicked at the beach:

He looks like he's reaching for a gun, but you know it's probably just a bottle of suntan lotion in a holster.

How to get your butt kicked in a meeting:

If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.

How to get your butt kicked on every day up to and including S t. Patrick's Day

Dear god in heaven, I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.

In this next one, Your Search For VALUE Ends at Penneys.

As does your search for chest hair.

And this -- Seriously. No words.

I'm guessing the snap front gives you quick access to the chest hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.

Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples to dress alike. These couples look happy, don't they?


I am especially fond of this one, which I have entitled 'Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best.'


And nothing showcases your everlasting love more than the commitment of matching bathing suits.


Then, after the lovin', you can relax in your one-piece matching terry cloth jumpsuits:


I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt from this trip back in time. I think it's the colors. That said, I will leave you with these tasteful little numbers:

Man, that's sexy.

Chaperone Experience:
2nd Graders & the Woodland Park Zoo

It took a month, but we are finally finished with viewing all 987 or so episodes of LOST. So, Thursday I trekked with the 2nd graders around Woodland Park Zoo. It was the first time we had gone there, and it was sunny.

I personally identified most with this animal in the back there:
Some days I just feel hippoish.


Highlight: We spent about an hour in this bird cage. It was funny watching boys try to attract birds to land on them. At first they were loud and rough and yelled at the birds. Soon they learned that they must be quiet and still. The birds loved Josh.



The water was really this green.


They had a sign for otters, but we couldn't find them. They had signs for lots of other animals too, that we couldn't find...


Josh's turn with the camera:



Second graders are great.
They have an appreciation for creatures and caves that adults just don't have.