Category Archives: Politically Incorrect

The Cake Walk Dictator



Harvest Festival

Harvest Festival

The Cake Walk:  For those who have never heard of the “Cake Walk,” it’s a children’s game played at Halloween and Harvest festivals similar to musical chairs, but with no chairs and numbers taped to the floor. There are an equal number of kids and numbers. The music plays and the kids circle. When the music stops the kids scramble to stand on a number, the emcee draws, and the kid standing on the number drawn wins a cake.

Lil' Cakewalkers

Lil’ Cakewalkers

The Cake Walk Dictator:  Enter my man Matt “I Moustache You a Question” Setter, who recently posted on Facebook about his Cake Walk emcee gig and how his “morals were severely compromised” because instead of reading the winning number he read the number of the “child in tears” or the child with the “best attitude.”

That’s right. Matt took the moral high road and decided to do what he thought was best for humanity. The question:  Is our world a better place?

San-Jay's B-Day Arrogant Bastard Ale

San-Jay’s B-Day Arrogant Bastard Ale

Tears? Best Attitude?  Alright, it’s a trivial act, but as I watched Matt “Chairman Mao” Setter receive oodles of likes from adults on Facebook I wondered about the merits of social engineering. Should crying or best attitudes get the cake? There’s a case to be made. But he didn’t reward from his own pocket. My homeboy Matt didn’t steal from the rich and give it to the poor, or take from the corrupt and give it to the virtuous, he took from the winner and gave it to the loser.



Is this how we want to act as adults? Matt stated a quasi “no harm no foul” argument. When I protested Matt wrote, “In the end, a few kids had a better night, a few parents didn’t have to deal with a sad kid at bed time, everyone had fun, the kids who didn’t win have no idea, all is well with the world.”

True. Though I doubt any kid or parent was saved. The net gain and loss on the kid front probably was zero. But I’m not worried about the kids, I’m worried about the adults.

Pumpkin Carvers

Pumpkin Carvers

Matt’s a great guy, good father, and his heart is in the right place. Am I a curmudgeon? Of course. Cake Walk Dictating is a metaphor for how people in authority, educators at school, politicians, bosses, etc. get the God Complex. You want your boss taking your bonus and giving it to the person he or she feels sorry for instead of the most deserving? No sir or ma’am! Am I pissed off and outraged? Of course not. I’m just making a pile of dirt out of a molehill.  The cynical takeaway? The shadow of moral ambiguity mucks up most every good deed.

Headline of the week:  Buddhist Extremist Cell Vows To Unleash Tranquility On West

Langley, Whidbey Island

Langley, Whidbey Island


Filed under Politically Incorrect

Politically Correct Capitalism

First Day of School for Ava & Gia!

The Business of Parenting:  What’s the most important aspect of parenting? Money. Double-Duh! Thus the theme of today’s blog, accompanied by the usual photos. Special thx to Trudy Tessaro for her “science show” shots.

New appliances, cabinet doors, etc.

Terry Works Twice as Hard:  Recently my wife, Terry, had to fly to Toronto on business, got stuck in Vancouver due to airline eff-ups, ended up arriving at 3:30 a.m., all the while looking forward to a 7:00 a.m. meeting. Later she called and vented. I listened, quaffed beer, and offered magnanimous sympathy as I “looked” after the kids. She told me, “I work so you can play.” I said, “I watch three kids so you can work.” She said,  “Message to stay-at-home wives who think they have it tough. I have no sympathy for the stay-at-home wife.” What she meant, though, was that she has no sympathy for the stay-at-home husband.

Kitchen After Six Months:  Compare above left by clicking here for a photo from the day the house closed, when Pops, Jan, Layne, & Cindy came by. My sister Sarah replaces sis-in-law Tracy.

Dad’s shirts as pajamas.

PCC Grocers:  There’s a co-op in our neighborhood: PCC Natural Market. It stands for Puget Consumers’ Co-op, though I always thought it meant Politically Correct Capitalism, because you pay Cheech & Chong high prices for an organic carrot, giving credence to myths about organic food, and fueling my conviction that only willfully exploited suckers would pay for feel-good-moral-placebo produce. However, my wife likes PCC, and even my right-wing-thinks-Bush-was-too-liberal father has bought into the co-op way. And his cholestoral and fat have dropped. So I’ve gone there a few times, and little by little I’m becoming a believer. Processed foods are bullsqueak unhealthy, and PCC prices aren’t so sky-high as thought. And, well, I just feel better about myself.

At first I blamed Kaya, but my sister Sarah actually put the TOMS in the dishwasher.

TOMS Shoes:  One day my wife came home, gave me a pair of shoes, and told me, “These are great! And we’re helping needy children.” The company? TOMS Shoes. Their shtick? “With every pair you buy, we’ll give to a child in need.” I tried on the quasi-cardboard slippers, and freaked when I found out she paid forty bucks for the bugigangas. I said, “This shoe is worth a buck and a quarter, no thanks.” But somehow she still believes in TOMS and talked my sister, Sarah, into buying a pair. One day I open the dishwasher to TOMS. Evidently, the salesman said this is the best way to clean them. It ruined them, as well as spreading pinkish water on the rest of the dishes, an apt metaphor for the racket. TOMS overcharges and gets away with “charity for profit” marketing, charging the consumer $20 to donate $2.

Waiting for the Science Show

Sarah starts with steel wool, string, & fire…

Booing Tiger:  How nice that Tiger hasn’t won a major since MistressGate. But the question begs asking:  Why can’t you boo in golf? Or cheer someone’s mistake? A missed free throw or field goal can often be greeted with cheers. I’d pay to see Tiger choke on a putt and have someone in the gallery scream, “Yahoooo!!!!”

…to create this. (Photos thx to Trudy Tessaro)

Two Types of Humor:  I was sitting with Terry and her family, and I expounded on the nuances of humor:  Either you’re a laugh slut and find every moronic attempt at humor funny. Or you never laugh, but you crack people up unintentionally but uncomfortably. Then I said, “But rare is the person who can make people laugh, who knows when to laugh, and has awareness of when they or others are not funny.” After I finished my wife said, “You mean not like right now, when you’re boring everybody.”

With Chuck & Ben

Comedy? Drama?  So Terry’s watching a show one night, and I ask her, “So, is this a drama or comedy?”

She tells me, “It’s a dramedy.”

I tell her, “I’m a frenemy of dramedies.”

Taking photos of the kids

The 22-Ounce 24-Ounce Beer:  I’m sure Andy Rooney or someone has raged about this, but why are so many “24-ounce” beers 22-ounces or even less? Gallons of paint are not quite a full gallon, ice cream quarts and pints are shrinking, cheeseburgers are the size of peppermint patties, but they ain’t lowering the price. If I was a marketer, I’d package my product as the full deal.

the kids

Geico Scam: I’m looking over Puget Sound and see a small propellor plane flying with a Geico banner. Why? How can you make money by being so ubiquitous? On radio, TV, everywhere, US society is saturated with Gecko-drek. Save 15% My Ass! My wife and I compared, and Geico did not save.   Their insurance is expensive or lower quality because 40 cents of every dollar they receive goes to their advertising campaign.  Giving credit where credit is due, though, the Eddie Money Geico Ad is pretty funny. (See below)


Filed under Moral Placebo, Organic, Politically Incorrect

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

Tracy “Seizes the Day” & Beatrice J.W. Powell the Elderess

Deer at the Powell House
Four Mini-Golfers!

Tracy Seizes the Day! Tracy recently wrecked her car, a dubious story the details of which will remain secret. Thus she needed a new car, insurance benevolently came to the rescue, but she kept on hedging and debating on what to buy. When I asked her why she said, “Because I’m not sure if I want to ‘Car Pay Dumb!'”

The Elderess at Work!

Beatrice Wilson the Elderess: I have a serious blog where I tackle issues and release my angry side, and now and then I pit my mother against various schlock artists. She kicked their asses. And then she had to face a master, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, and the Elder in turn wiped her butt. However, my mother told me later, “Sorry, Caleb, but I’m better than Elder.” Not sure I agree, but I like the ‘tude. Here’s the tally:


Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell vs. Helen Frankenthaler  Winner– Powell

Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell vs. Clyfford Still  Winner – Powell

Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell vs. Paul Doran  Winner – Powell

Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell vs. Pieter Bruegel the Elder  Winner – Bruegel the Elder

The Sexist Mom & Dad

Notes of a Sexist Working Mother:  My wife recently made a comment/objection about my blog, and I told her she ought to start her own. Terry and I don’t have a lot in common, but we make it work. And quite well, I’ll add. One thing we both agree upon, however, is the superiority of the female sex, yet somehow she refuses to counterblog and put me in my place. Go figure. Anyone out there think my wife could out-blog me? Please inspire her.

Father & Daughter

What Kids Hear: And, in another take on what kids hear, the other day Tracy & I were talking about language, and Tracy said, “I tell Elliot about ‘consequences’ and he nods his head and says he understands, and then I realize he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

What Tracy says: “Elliot, if you do that again their will be consequences! Serious consequences!

What Elliot hears: “Elliot, if you do that again their will be ooga-booga! Serious ooga-booga!

(It’s like that with our kids, too)

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Filed under Feminist Issues, Politically Incorrect

The “Sex-for-Chores” Carrot

MYSTERY: Who’s wearing the padded bra?

SEX FOR CHORES: Today’s post balances the usual, nauseatingly cute photos with racy adult humor, and asks: Why do women dangle the sex carrot to get their men to behave? My wife has tried this strategy, and my sister-in-law, Tracy, evidently is training Sanjay, pre-marriage. My advice to the ladies…don’t! Such incentive may work early, but eventually will backfire.

Gia & Cousin Elliot

It’s official, I’m now the Rev. Caleb Powell.

What do I mean? I’m talkin’ “sex-for-chores.” Women! Puhhhh-leeeeeeeez. My wife did the do-yardwork/go-shopping/clean-the gutters and I’ll rock-your-world schtick. Long ago I put a stop to this nonsense. Would a man pull this: “Sweetie, if you cook dinner tonight and vacuum the living room, then I’ll do you.” Most men agree that sex = good & shopping = bad. But what’s the reciprocal message implied by women? “I hate sex, but I like shopping, so we’ll trade.” Can you say, “Turned off!” It should be a win-win, right? Of course, on the other hand, the man (me) should perform chores happily just to please the wife…but as for shopping? Never!

春夏秋冬 Four Seasons & Love 愛

A CLUE TO THE MYSTERY: Who’s wearing the padded bra? Hint: It’s not San-J.

THE REVEREND CALEB POWELL: Tracy & San-J marry in May. I will perform the nuptials, and have become ordained. Ever since I got my official ID card from the Universal Life Church, I’m like a kid with a new toy. And not only am I a minister, I’m writing the vows.

VOWS (Spoken with Southern Baptist fury): (Tra-C/San-J), are you sure? Are you really, really, really, really positive, and I’m talkin’ 100%…that you want to spend the rest of your natural life in blissful…or blister-full…matrimony with (him/her)?  You can reconsider, it’s not too late, everyone will understand, so let’s have a drink, revisit next year or whenever. Once again, I ask…are you sure?

Kaya is “TERRY” safe in her car seat.

THE NEW VOCABU-TERRY: My wife, Terry, inspires vernacular (among the ways she moves me). The following words have entered my everyday vocab: HysTERRYcal: Whether it’s pizza, pasta, or potatoes, when my wife tells me that she’s snuck a dollop of mayonaisse into the mix (it happens weekly), I say, “Gee, that’s hysterrycal.” RheTERRYcal: Typical scenario, I open a beer, take a few drinks, and my wife asks, “Are you having another beer?” I reply, “Are you asking me a rheterrycal question?” HyTERRbolY: Examples of hyterrboly: “There’s nothing worse than too much cream in the coffee.” “I hate it when there’s laundry on my bed. It’s the most disgusting thing in the entire world.” (Clean laundry, no less!) “Tell me you’re not wearing wool socks with loafers and shorts. That’s going to ruin my weekend.”

Happy Second Birthday, Kaya!

A cross between William H. Macy and Ned Flanders? (See the Powell family on the fridge?)

WILLIAM H. MACY ATTENDS KAYA’S BIRTHDAY! In March our little Kaya turned 2; three days separates her birthday with Pops. We combined parties and lo and behold, there was a surprise appearance by Fargo and Boogie Nights star William H. Macy. Seriously, though, Pops, the ‘stache gives you a Macy flavor, or even Ned Flanders of The Simpsons (actually, any guy with a mustache looks like Ned “okey-dokey” Flanders).

Get ready for the The Bigger Dance (click to see my rant against sexist KJR radio)! And finally, the painting of the month by Beatrice Joan Wilson Powell (My Mom!):


Filed under Beer, Marriage, Politically Incorrect, shopping, Tracy

100% of My Children Are Daughters!

Ava & Gia laughing at Kaya’s butt!

Ava’s cake with her name in Chinese (爱花) and English

74% OF WOMEN WRITERS  & READERS WANT MORE FEMALE BYLINES: According to VIDA: Women in Literary Arts, over 75% of the bylines at Harper’s are male. At the New Yorker, of 612 writers, over 70% (449) are male. The New York Times Book Review comes in with a whopping 80% male. What’s going on? (And shouldn’t it  be WILA, not VIDA?)

Ava & Gia’s art, the characters for mom & dad 妈妈 & 爸爸

Dig deeper, VIDA has a guest post by the unique Percival “I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-anyone-thinks-I-write-what-I-want” Everett (a man), implying Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom, were it written by a woman, would probably be considered “chick lit.” Instead, it’s getting mad attention. How can this be? Aren’t women more intelligent? Why are respectable magazines male dominated when women comprise the majority of readers? Could this have anything to do with the fact men are funnier? (See previous blog)

At WIS for the Chinese New Year.

99% OF THIS BLOG’S READERS ARE FRIENDS & FAMILY: Most of you  know I studied Chinese in Taiwan and that our daughters are learning Chinese. In December of 2007 Ava began with Chinese at WIS. In February she celebrated her sixth birthday. Congrats to Ava! (Photo above is 2010, Year of the Tiger, below is 2011, Year of the Rabbit)

CHARLIE SHEEN IS 100% A-HOLE: Need proof that men are the inferior gender? Look no further than Charlie “Dorkbag” Sheen. The bozo’s cerebral capacity lags even bovine brain power. My first Notes post (here) questioned the crappy Two and a Half Men and its A-hole star. Now Charlie “Phallus” Sheen (click here and here for the latest) has gone Mel Gibson.

MY WIFE MAKES ME FEEL 100% YOUNGER: I am a year older than my wife, however, my wife makes me feel younger every day…by starving my ego with cracks like “Act your age” and “Grow up.” Teenagers get more respect…ok, kidding aside, she’s not that bad, however, she does think I play the “struggling artist” card a little too much, and my attempts at “hip” and “cool” don’t mesh with my age. Fortunately, with my wife it’s the opposite, she continues to grow wiser as she looks ever the younger.

February Snow


100% OF FUNNY PIE CHARTS USING THE TERM “VAS DEFERENS” HAVE BEEN CREATED BY JIMMY CHEN:  Check out the Pie Chart of the month, courtesy of Jimmy Chen (male) at 0 Comments.


Filed under Corny Jokes, Marriage, Politically Incorrect, Sexism, Sexist Stay-at-home Father, Women's Magazines

Hell’s Belles & Hell’s Baseball Team


Ava & Gia just happy to be at the ballpark

WHO’S GOT THE BIGGEST BALLS? HELL’S BELLES or the MARINERS? The Powell family got wind that Hell’s Belles, the AC/DC cover band, would be at the West Seattle Street Fair. And with Aunt Tracy & San-J we went. Upon arrival, with the band cranking out “Sin City”, my wife seemed catatonically amazed. She turned to me and asked, “Did you know they were all girls?”

We ended up having quite a time. The next week we went to watch the Seattle Mariners baseball team. Once again, my wife turned to me and said, “Wow. I didn’t know they were all girls.”

Hell’s Belles 1 – Seattle Mariners 0

Now, if you are so PC to think calling a baseball team “female” derogatory, please keep in mind the spirit of this blog: Women are superior in everything except lifting heavy objects and a few other athletic and physical endeavors. No matter how well the UW softball team and Danielle Lawrie did this year, baseball is still a man’s game. That being said, it’s rather amazing that a bunch of girls managed to beat the Yankees that night on an out-of-character Jose (or Josie) Lopez grand slam. Felix Hernandez happened to be pitching, and the weather spectacular. That’s what I call a win-win!

The 2010 Seattle Mariners, 39-65 as of this post, are sparking the hopes of young girls everywhere that, maybe someday, they will get their chance to play in the major leagues.

The Mariners Win!

Dad & Kaya

At any rate, the Seattle summer has been stupendous, as always, and as for the baseball fan in Seattle, once again, it’s wait until next year.

Photo of the Week: Giant Skeleton Found in Saudi Arabia! (Also check out Water on Mars!)



Filed under Politically Incorrect, Seattle Mariners, Sexism, Tracy

The Poo at the End of the Hair

Las tres amigas y su primo Elliot.

EMPTY SPACES: Our daughters, Ava and Gia, like to help dad find a parking space.  While circling outside a store, as I pass an open space in front of the entrance, Ava and Gia will start shouting, “There! There! Daddy, I see one!” They don’t understand the concept of handicap spots. I drive by and they get amazingly agitated, shouting, “Daddy, daddy…why didn’t you park there?” When I explain, they seem perplexed. They’ll learn.

PETTY AND FIBE: I recently discovered our neighbor’s name is Petty. Pronounced like “Patty”, but spelled “Petty”. She happens to be Taiwanese, and I have lived and taught English in Taiwan. I know English is a difficult language to learn, and phonetics are not that simple, but c’mon. Why call yourself a word that signifies “mean and trivial”? But that’s how it is with second language learners. Petty is not the only misnamed Taiwanese. In Taiwan I read role call in one of my classes, and saw a name listed as “Fibe”. So I rhymed it with “vibe”, and shouted the name. Silence. Then I spelled it on the board and asked who it was. The class pointed to the girl in question, and shouted, “That’s Phoebe.” So I crossed out her name, spelled correctly, and told her that her name should be this way. The little girl started bawling. Thus I let it be Fibe. Those nutty Taiwanese.

¡Feliz cumpleaños!

MORE FASHION COMMENTS: As clueless husband, my grooming is a target for my wife. I often receive darts like these: “Your clothes are beginning to walk on their own.” “You’re not wearing that shirt, it’s wearing you.” “The 1980’s are calling, they want their T-shirt back.” Since I’ve been married my wife has bought or chosen all my clothes, and so whenever I look presentable it’s due to her, but somehow I still ain’t doin’ it right.

COMMUNICATION & RHETORICAL QUESTIONS: My wife is one of those women who communicates with rhetorical questions and statements. Usually they are directed towards our daughters, or other people, but meant for me. For example, she’ll tell Ava and Gia (and sometimes baby Kaya), “Wow, what a mess, the living room sure needs vacuuming, Ava, do you think you can take care of it?” “Gia, will you please mow the lawn?” Then there’s the rhetorical questions directed my way: “Are these dishes dirty?” “Are you drinking a beer?” “Is tomorrow garbage?” Or the famous and all too common query that happens every time I’m sitting on the pot, “Caleb, are you taking a sh*t?” My response is always: “Are you asking a rhetorical question?”

POO BY A HAIR:  As much as I think poo stories are cliché for a parenting blog, my wife’s cousin Susy had some poop that scored high on the gross factor, and thus, what the heck, here goes. Evidently, when Aunt Susy’s daughter was in diapers she’d often eat hair, and somehow, in mid-change, the poo would cling by a proverbial thread. Susy would often fold up the diaper, and discover, as she pulled it away, that the poo would still be hanging on by a snake-like strand out of the ol’ behind, and she’d watch it out spaghetti out of the you know what. You get the drift.

GIA TURNS FOUR! Gia turned four in June. Happy Birthday Gia!

PHOTO of the MONTH: Summer Solstice at Stonehenge

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Filed under Feminist Issues, Mysterious Poo, Politically Incorrect, Sexism, Sexist Stay-at-home Father, Women's Magazines

Do These Clothes Make Me Look Fat?

Kaya! What makes you think you can steal Ava’s chef hat? Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean that you’re getting special priveleges. Be careful, kiddo!

SHOPPING: The Sexist Stay-at-Home Father (or me) is profoundly concerned about societal problems, or, simply put…good and evil. Thus a fascination with the Disney-pink-princess alliance. Complexities and ramifications abound. This “axis-of-evil” is rooted in a phenomenom most heinous…shopping. That’s right. Shopping. And where the hell is hell on earth? None other than that icon of US imperialism: Disneyland.

Newborn Kaya with her big sisters

Move over bin Laden, Disneyland has cornered the market on vile. If you think this statement hyperbole, let me throw out a horrifying truth. Disneyland opens their gates at ten a.m. without access to the theme park but rather Disney Village…yes…Disney Village…?!?!?!?! Exactly. The theme park opens at eleven a.m., and so when my wife and children and I entered there was nothing to do but shop. Aaaaaaaaaaghhhhh! And shop for what? Princess paraphernalia, much of it…er, er…ugh…yes…pink.

Enhanced interrogation at Guantanamo:  ‘Barney’s I LOVE YOU 24/7 at 120 decibels’ (Playlist here: Guantanamo Songs), and ‘caterpillar treatment’ (capturees are naked in a room with bugs), and even the notorious ‘waterboarding’ do not compare to an hour at Disney Village. Christopher Hitchens knows torture my ass! (See his Vanity Fair article) Mr. Hitchens, do Disneyland and then we’ll talk. And Disneyland is just the beginning, every mall in America replicates the horror: force the most hardened scum to wander for an hour through Disneyland or Pottery Barn, Macy’sBed Bath & Beyond, Gymboree, and then make them Build-a-Bear…they would be coughing up plots and co-conspirators right and left, world peace would be on the horizon…are you with me on this? You better damn well be!

MATH LESSON: Five out of three children are bad at fractions.   

CONGRATS TO TRACY: She passed the hair bar and is now a certified cosmetologist ready to make the world beautiful! (Check out Tracy and the Girls)

Hiya Kaya!

ST. PATRICK’s DISASTER: Dad thought he’d whip up a St. Pat’s Day dinner of corned beef and cabbage, and on said day started boiling corned beef at noon. Unfortunately, he simultaneously prepared soup for lunch, and turned off both pots when the soup was boiling. When the time came to plop the corned beef in the oven, at around five p.m., dinner was an undercooked chunk. Thus…Leftovers! Not the smoothest move, dad. (One time I served a stir fry seasoned with vanilla instead of soy sauce. My defense: the bottles looked similar…)

DO THESE CLOTHES MAKE ME LOOK FAT? How many times does a man hear this mega-ridiculous question? The connundrum was posed during Kaya’s birthday party, my wife’s sister and mom in attendance, and one of the lovely ladies said, and I repeat, “Do you think this shirt makes me look fat?” How often has a helpless man had to sit back and placate the woman? Thus I posited, “Why not just ask: ‘Do these clothes hide my fatness?'”  Unfortunately, my enlightening comment was not met with graciousness. I quickly discovered ‘women have babies blah blah blah’, they ‘work real hard to look nice for us men blah blah blah’, and ‘I’m an ass blah blah blah’. The ‘clothes-are-not-responsible-for-how-you-look’ argument may be right, but it doesn’t lead to happiness.

PICTURES of the WEEK: Ice Castles


Filed under Appearance, Disney, Pink, Pink is Evil, Politically Incorrect, Sexist Stay-at-home Father, Tracy

My birthday is four!

Ava's fifth birthday fell on Chinese New Year (The Year of the Tiger). Happy birthday Ava!

Ava at one!

Ava turned five this month. Gia will turn four in June. I told Gia her birthday is in June and she disagreed: “No. My birthday is four!” I said, “No, your age is four. Your birthday is in June.” She repeated, “My birthday is not June, it’s four.” Me: “How old are you?”  Gia: “I’m three!” Me: “When’s your birthday?” Gia: “Four!” Me: “No, your birthday is in June…when you turn four.” Gia: “My birthday not June, it’s four!” She can get spitfire angry…geez, women! Gia’s already onto the “right-happy” dichotomy (see Pillow Wars for more on “happy vs. right”). I used every word in our mutual vocabulary to explain the difference, but to no avail…her birthday is four…until the day her birthday is five.

QUESTION of the MONTH:  How come it’s called ‘menstruation’ and not ‘womenstruation’?  ‘Cause men sure don’t ‘struate’. (More than one woman has told me about MENtal illness and MENopause and how ALL women’s problems begin with MEN.)

What has cute little Kaya done now? The little ball-of-chub has her hand in a drawer and is stuck. Adorable? Not according to my wife: "Caaaay-leb! What's this?" Me: "She's fine." Wife: "No she isn't. Not in a hot pink top and light pink bottom." Seriously. (It's the evil of pink...see post of 1/12/2010 - Pink! The New Evil!)

NO HONEY IN OUR HOUSE:  I almost made a major error by giving 11-month old Kaya a bit of honey. My wife charged screaming out of the bathroom when I told her of my insidious breakfast plans: ‘Absolutely no honey until she’s one years old! She could die! You didn’t give her any, did you?’  Instant change of plans. If I’m not supposed to give Kaya honey…by damn, I won’t (see above Pillow Wars), it’s not a battle I’m going to pick, but c’mon…die? Kaya is practically one, literally 0.92 years of age. I cannot fathom how in just one month she will, all of a sudden, be able to consume honey. I’m no authority… the conventional wisdom of dieticians, nutritionists, and doctors trumps mine…but are concerns misplaced? Should a two-month premature baby wait two extra months to eat honey? Can the baby born two weeks late eat honey two weeks earlier?

Anyone for a tasty measuring cup of water and Cheerios? (Gia loves that hat)

BEER vs. WINE: Thanks to my wife I now recognize that a hot dog w/chips is inferior to, say – pork tenderloin, rutebega & turnip gratin, and pernod sauce. Far from becoming a “foodie” (Has anyone else heard this term…I hadn’t before marriage, but I’ve learned a “foodie” is someone who, for example, has at least one Ina Garten cookbook), my tastes and sensitivities toward cuisine have somewhat improved. However, I remain a beer drinker, and thus play the role of unsophisticated dork drinking a PBR while everyone else at the table is sipping syrah or merlot…one of my many strange culinary habits (according to my wife and her family) that also include antipathy toward salad dressing, condiments, and all cruciferous vegetables (the latter pure evil…pink is child’s play compared to cruciferous).

PHOTO of the WEEK:  Weird Limo


Filed under Beer, Feminist Issues, Pillow Wars, Politically Incorrect