Monthly Archives: August 2012

Miss Manthropist! – Photos of Whidbey & Summer Fun

On the deck, Ava, Tracy, Stig, Terry, Gia, Kaya, Sarah, Elliot, Sanjay

Boating on Penn Cove w/girls & Nephew Nikolai

Boring photo explanations:  Allow a brief expanation of the photos. Above, we celebrate the arrival of my sister and bro-in-law. Notice our neighbor’s deck has rails, ours doesn’t, grrrr….another story. The rest of the pictures are of taking the girls to Whidbey Island, Penn Cove, Chinese camp, Ft. Casey & Ft. Ebey, swim camp, and dad shoots himself and a deer. And now, onto this late summer post, replete with the obligatory sexist and dry humor.

The Unnecessary Phone Call:  What is it with women and unnecessary phone calls? One night we called in pizza, and I went to the joint for pick up. As I’m driving home, the phone rings, and it’s Tracy. Conversation:

The girls on first day of camp at 华盛顿国际学校

Tracy:  Hi, where are you?

Caleb:  I’m driving home.

Tracy:  What’s taking so long?

Caleb:  You called to ask me that?

Tracy:  Terry, Sarah, and I are staaaaaarving.

Caleb:  I’m driving. Didn’t you get a ticket for talking on the cell phone? We need a new rule, no more unnecessary calls. See you soon. Bye.

Time for Art!

The girls were lucky I didn’t pull over and eat a few pieces. No matter how impatient anyone gets, the pizza has no chance of arriving earlier as the result of a “where’s-the-pizza” phone call. And, while I’m on topic, my wife will call me mid-drive with three kids in the backseat going bananas, for what? For reminders, for “what are we having for dinner” or “confirmations of weekend plans.” I’ll see you soon, honey! There are men who also call just to “check in” and “chat,” but this bad habit seems to be primarily a female function. I get chatting with an old friend, but not with someone you’re going to see in forty mintues. It’s a busy life, that’s how it is, and when that phone rings there better be something important to talk about.

At Ft. Ebey w/Uncle Sanjay

Mr. Ogyny & Miss Manthropist: In the early days of this blog, I accused my wife and sis-in-law of having a “breastfest.” They said I was a misogynist. I said, “That’s Mr. Ogynist to you.” But women? I guess a woman who hates other women would be guilty of Miss Ogyny. Ha ha ho ho. Misanthropy is hatred of all humanity, but what about a female manhater? The neologism? Mismanthropist.

At Ft. Casey

The Perfect Helix:  On August 15th Mariner Felix Hernandez pitched the first perfect game in Seattle Mariners history. I told my wife, who could have cared less. Despite her being an All-Star first baseman in softball and somewhat athletic in her high school days, she didn’t know what a perfect game was, and didn’t care that Felix threw only the 23rd perfect game in MLB history. Her reply, “Big deal, I don’t even know who Helix Fernandez is.”

Coming back from Ft. Casey the girls shout “Deer!”

“Car-pay dumb” joke not successful: I’m like the Stephen Hawking of humor, there are only three other people in the world that think I’m funny, unfortunately, I don’t know any of these three. So, in the top photo, I’m sitting there with my family, Sarah, Stig, Sanjay, Terry, & kids, and they started talking about my last blog, and I asked if anyone got the Car-Pay Dumb/Carpe Diem joke. Terry said, “It wasn’t funny.” Tracy said, “That’s the problem with your jokes, you have to think for thirty seconds and by the time you get it, it’s not funny.”

With Grandma! 奶奶爱花吉夏恺雅!

1-2 Many Beers: And, as the sun set on a beautiful evening, guys drank beers, and the girls, miss manthropist manhaters that they are, suggested the guys follow the “1-2 Many Beer” Rule.

Namely, you can have one beer, and a second, but any more is “one too many.”


Swim Lessons!

TP Compatability:  My wife and I don’t agree on much, but one thing we do see eye-to-eye on is toilet paper placement. Thanks to fellow Coupeville alumi Todd Peddlar for posting the following diagram on Facebook. And, for just mind-boggling eerie, Todd, my wife, and the tissue all go by TP.


Filed under baseball, Beer, Politically Incorrect