In Mexico, sis-in-law Tracy Perkins-Chopra said, “I hope you’re not going to just do an all photo blog.” Sorry, Tracy, but aside from this brief note acknowledging good times, Flora and Ava becoming “Flava,” and the bros watching the Seahawks crush Arizona, there’s not much to say this month but, “I’m lazy, enjoy the photos, and Happy Holidays to all!”
On the way to Boca
Chef Ava, Chef Jake, Chef Strange Kid, and Chef Gia
Boca de Tomatlan
Returning from Boca
Waiting for kid drinks
Kaya with “Flava”
Seahawks vs. Arizona – Arizona Anu is happy because the game just started. Sorry, Anu, 19-3 final score.
Domestic Abuse: The other day my wife told me, “What you does?” I said, “Huh?” She said, “I wants to known when you am going to mow the lawn.” I said, “Excuse me?” She said, “You hearded me.” I said, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to report you for verbal abuse.”
Penelope & Christie
Married to Movie Stars: San-J and I traded man hours for ladies nights. Our wives stay home and we watch Miami vs. San Antonio at the bar. Or we stay home with the kids and watch NBA while they go out. Well, after Terry and Tracy came home from an evening in Edmonds they were ecstatic because a man at Daphne’s bought them drinks and called them “Christie Brinkley” and “Penelope Cruz.” Hey, the way we see it, whoever compliments the wives compliments the husbands.
School’s Out
Gia gets an award
Talking to the Kids: My wife and I were talking about our daughters and soccer and I said, “Well, Ava’s new to it, but at present she’s horrible.” Terry countered with, “Ava’s new and it’s cute.” Definitely. Still, I’m a proponent of “tough love” encouragement, although I soften my diction in front of the kids. Way I see it, when I’m cut my ire rises and can motivate. Believe me, I receive my share of insults.
Spilled wine with Quincy & San-J
Next day I’m talking with sister Sarah on Skype. Sarah’s a piano teacher and proponent of the “compliment effort not ability” school (as seconded by this – How Not to Talk to Your Kids). Specifically, don’t tell your kids, “You’re so smart.” Instead, say, “That was great effort.”
Terry intervenes and says to Sarah, “Caleb’s bringing it up because he said that Ava’s ‘horrible’ at soccer, and I told Caleb he shouldn’t think that.” Bam, there’s a wail and cry, and little Ava, nearby on the couch, starts crying: “Daddy, I heard that, you think I’m horrible.”
Quincy, Mom, Cousin, & Aunt
My heart breaks: Later I ask Ava if she wants to kick the ball around. We’re in the yard, and I apologize for what I said. I say that’s she’s doing great, and that she’s improved incredibly. Then I mention how bad I was at soccer as a kid. Ava asks, “As bad as me?” I gave her a big hug and said, “I was the worst! You’re much better than me.”
School Poetry Reading, with friends Mara and Cassidy, and Tracy in the background.
Tracy w/ex Portland Blazer Bill Walton…or is it my Father-in-law?
Goin’ Dancing!
Anatomy of a Joke: Recently San-J, Tra-C, my wife, and I had dinner. Conversation drifted to my sense of humor/sense of hammer from my recent blog. They called me corny! Corny? I had to lay more humor down, explaining the formula joke, a common theme used and misused by the comedian…I started with why Arabic food cracks me up…because of my sense of hummus.
Happy 8th B-Day Ava!
From one joke many: I’m in overdrive, and posit, “Why does Tracy dig it when people talk about her? Her excellent sense of rumor.” Tracy said, “I don’t get it.” The back & forth trumped the joke, and she still said she didn’t get it. Then I waxed, “You hear about the grumpy oncologist who was fired? He had no sense of tumor.” More: “Why do the Superbowl halftime guys put up with that ex-Bengal QB? Because they have a good sense of Boomer.” The eyes kept rolling. Finally San-J said, “You know what I think of your jokes?”And he let out a big gasser, exhibiting his own scent of humor.
三朵金花！
Mom & Gia Skating
Subtle Man: So I’m going to a respectable function and my wife says, “You’re not wearing that T-shirt, are you?” I retreat to the bedroom, throw on a collared shirt, and head out, but my wife notices the T underneath. She says, “I see you didn’t take it off.” I said, “It’s what I call my subtle-T!”
I’m a Rainbow Warrior
From our balcony in Waikiki
Sad Ava: Bedtime. We send Ava to get a book to read, and she somehow gets a hold of the wrong one: Go the F*ck to Sleep. Mom says no way. I second it. Ava starts crying because we won’t let her read the book. And in an ironic and predictable twist, guess what mom and dad were thinking?
Sister’s family in Hawaii
Min & Somjait’s house with my wife w/niece & nephew
It Just Gets Worse: And a grand finale. My wife sees me as a glass not just half empty, but almost completely empty. She excessively badgers me and I had enough. I lost it and said, “I can’t stand your nagitivity!” Ba-ba-baaa-Boom!
Trail to Diamond Head
Waianae, outside my sister’s house.
OK, the above joke is fiction, my wife’s great, we just got back from Hawaii (where my sister Min lives with husband & three kids) and a kid-free vacation (except for my sister’s varmints). Enjoy pictures of the Father-Daughter Dance, Ava’s birthday, and Oahu.
Video of the Month: Remember when Tracy got her PhD in Hair in my blog Hair Science? Now she’s doing promo for her salon! See Tra-C in Fun Kuts, with a cameo by San-J and his scent of humor.
Elliot holding lil’ sis Quincy, Ava holding lil’ cousin Gemma
Pictures trump words: I’m certain my family and eager fans are waiting for more sexist humor or the next neologism, but this post will be pretty basic. I’m busy and can only offer photos and a diary-like account of the happenings since the last post. Photos trump words anyways, and so why write thousands when I can post pictures?
Stig, Mark, & Sanjay
Lyngras visit: My sister Sarah returned for the holidays with her son Nikolai and husband Stig. So we had a guys night out with my bro-in-law San-J and neighbor Mark, who has three sons that sometimes play with our three daughters. Stig’s Norwegian, Mark’s from the U.K. and I was born in Taiwan, thus Sanjay is the only native American. We went to Edmonds, a wild urban jungle, and no one remembers what happened.
Two dudes celebrate Baby Chopra & have a cigar
Quincy! The big story is the arrival of baby girl Quincy Taryn Chopra, born on December 1st to Tracy and Sanjay Chopra. A big congrats. All this time I thought Sanjay was a hermaphrodite, but fathering a baby offers contradictory evidence. Cigar time!
Grandy riding the duck with the grandkids
Duck tour: So the ladies decided that this year we would “Ride the Duck” thing or whatever. Great fun, you ride this bus through downtown Seattle. Kids loved it. What can I say? As for Christmas, just another holiday season, merry-as-usual, and we’re hunkering down for the New Year.
And the final photo, Christmas Day! Best wishes for 2013!
The original Sanjay photo has been replaced on grounds of taste, as even this blog has standards. Therefore, instead, here's Grandpa at the ruins of Tulum. Not as funny, perhaps, but classier.
Sanjay with his father and two fathers-in-law, Jim & W. Macy
FIRST COMIC SITTING: Who’s the least funny comic? This blog, using the fore and aftermath of the San-J/Tra-C wedding, honors all those wannabe comedians who think they’re funny because friends and family laugh at their lame jokes. I’ve got news for these clowns: people like to laugh because they like to, not because they have taste. Just look at the success of Friends. Comedy? No. Entertainment? Hardly. Hope for amateur comedians? Definitely.
Grandy and her four granddaughters, introducing new arrival Gemma ala Aunt Melissa and Uncle Danny
I AM NOT FUNNY: Now, before I proceed, I am not a comedian, nor do I aspire to be. This art best left to the professionals. However, I seek quality humor. Unfortunately, even the supposed masters suck. It has been ten years, at least, since Robin Williams told a funny joke, and he was no monkey in a barrel during his best years…Mrs. Doubtfire? Ha ha ha hee hee hoo. Yet, like stated, I certainly am not capable of doing better. My M.O. only demonstrates how failed jokes sometimes are funny. Whether the joke accidental or intentional, laughter always is in the “sense” of the beholder.
Sanjay with Second Best Man Juice Jones
SHOULD HOMOSEXUALS BE ALLOWED TO MARRY? What is all the controversy? The real question should be: Should heterosexuals be allowed to marry? Rife with divorce and infidelity, bozos like Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Newt Gingrich, Rush Limbaugh, Mark Sanford, Arnold Scharzenegger, and Eliot Spitzer give ample fodder for the argument that a study should be commissioned to determine whether or not heterosexual marriage should be prohibited. Thus here’s to all those couples who’ve maintained successful marriages, my wife and I, Tra-C and San-J and their recent nuptials, our family’s, and all the couples that, despite the horrors of marriage, and horrors they are, have powered through to enjoy the fruits.
Gia from the balcony
PORN FOR WOMEN: There has been a recent onslaught of sexist books mocking men, not that men are bothered by being ridiculed. Titles like Everything a Man Knows About Women, Everything a Man Thinks About When He Isn’t Thinking About Sex, and so on…the punch line? A book of blank pages. Har har hoo hoo heh heh ho! My knee is turning red because I’m slapping it so hard. And then there are some gruesome stories…here I’d like to warn sensitive readers, you may not want to read further.
Like I Need to Be Funny
Tulum
I’m talking about “faux porn,” especially the new dirty books for women. These rags show men cleaning, cooking, and gardening. Gadzooks! Is this what men need to do to please women? Yikes, yikers, & yikest. However, after reading this article, What Turns Women On, I discovered that I do have one “kinky” habit. I arrange my books alphabetically, separating fiction and nonfiction, although my wife would trade this for me vacuuming twice a day. Is this what women’s lib has brought on? Whatever happened to women who swooned after men who killed farm animals with their bare hands? Men, we’re screwed in a bad way.
Grandpa Jim just told a joke, see by Kaya and Elliot's faces how funny it was.
THE COMPETITION: Are you ready for the 1st Annual First Comic Sitting Competition? Previously I blogged about comedy & gender (Who’s Funnier? San-J or Christopher Hitchens…or Women?), with solid evidence to back my argument. However, my wife and sister-in-law think they’re funnier than the guys (specifically, me). Thus, the contest. Sanjay Chopra Winfrey, the favorite, lost, as seen by the photo that was above (Sanjay’s antics will be kept in house, but let’s just say he’s had funnier nights). So the men were represented by Rick “William H. Macy” Newell. His rival? Tracy. Let’s see who can split whose sides:
Gaea, Anu, Jarett, Tonya, San-J, Tra-C, Juice
INTERLUDE: Please remember this is an amateur competition, that being said, Tracy’s joke not so bad, although the theme not too original. Is there an upset in the making? It’s left for Rick “Two Whales Walk into a Bar” Newell to decide. Though Rick knows how to install cabinets, bevel an edge, and use a circular saw, he’s rather shaky with a punch line.
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!):
BROTHERS-in-LAW ‘J’: This summer both sisters arrived to Washington State with their families, and not only that, one bro-in-law brought his parents and brother, and over the weekend Aunt Tracy & Sanjay arrived. That puts three generations, seven grandchildren, nine parents/aunts & uncles, and four grandparents all at the Powell house on Whidbey Island. Twenty people total. We spent a weekend there during the Coupeville Festival. Fun joy fun joy fun joy…
Kaya holding broccoli. (Dad had to disinfect her immediately)
Gia, Ava & Kaya making crafts.
CRUCIFEROUS: I hate broccoli. Not just dislike. If broccoli had feelings, then I would ridicule that plant mercilessly. There are health attributes to the “vile weed” (as Newman called it in Seinfeld, see video here), but I say that even afficionados do not eat it for pleasure. If broccoli were harmful to the body, like bacon, no one would eat it. Thus, in the spirit, I wrote a poem, published this August, with uninhibited punctuation and all:
NORWEGIAN: Nephew Nikolai asked his father if he spoke English as well as he spoke Norwegian. Stig said, “Of course.” Then Nikolai said, “Oh, so you mispronounce words in Norwegian, too?” (It should be noted that Stig’s English is excellent, he’s fluent, although his Scrabble game suffers by not being a native speaker)
Face Painting at the Coupeville Festival
ERRANT PARENT: Also out in August, my essay about the mother who thought it’d be okay if her kids peed in the pool:
“Since having children, my wife and I have fallen in love with the all-inclusive vacation. We sit by a pool, waiters and waitresses bring us drinks, and when we want a break from the piglets, we put them in daycare. However, our last vacation in Mexico (and first exclusively at an inclusive) set the stage for a little poolside confrontation…”
THE HAIR CHRONICLES – NEXT CHAPTER: True story, no exaggeration. I’m hanging out in the kitchen when Aunt Tracy, of Northwest Hair Academy fame, in our living room reading some girlie magazine, calls out, “Wow! I don’t believe it!” I mean, she just screams, multiple exclamation marks will not capture the glee. So I run over there and ask, “What is it?” She says, “Paul Mitchell just made a sulfate-free shampoo!” Really.
我爱中文酷！Also out, my Chinese puzzle book based on Sudoku. Sarah, my sister, publishes music books for children, and she put out Chinoku at Yellow Cat Publishing. The artwork is done by my mother, see her painting here, at The Copenhagen Review, and here. 我愛中文酷！
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.
MUSEUM, LIBRARY, or ASYLUM? This weekend the Powell family went to Whidbey Island to take advantage of the wonderful yet odd house of my parents. Grandparents’ house is on the north side of Penn Cove and faces the small town of Coupeville. Grandma’s studio, above, and the whole house for that matter, is probably the cleanest and most presentable in years, yet remains a clutterfunk of random bugigangas (a Portuguese word meaning ‘junk’). However, hidden within is an impressive collection of books and art . The “shower” on the left comes from the fact that, sometime around 1979, my parents decided to hook up plumbing. Nothing has been done since, and the shower is now a repository for stuff, including my mother’s ubiquitous artwork.The kitchen, built in 1953, is unchanged, with the exception of a countertop and perhaps a new faucet. Visiting grandparents’ house is somewhat like camping.
Lots of books...good! Lots of romances...hmmmm?
Aaaaah...my old bedroom.
BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS EVERYWHERE! Though we have many books, finding a good one within is not as easy as in the past. I would fathom there are over 10,000 in the house, a conservative estimate. My father is a voracious reader of romance novels, however, and my mother has given up the intellectual ghost and now is consumed by tabloid trash. However, growing up with Encylopedias, a National Geographic collection that dates to the 1920’s, and as eclectic a library as can be imagined did have advantages. I am grateful for my parents raising me in such a milieu.
Wife & baby.
Dad with mussels, beer & daughter. Life ain't bad.
CRABBY NEIGHBORS: My parents are fortunate to have kind and welcoming neighbors, and on the weekend I got my crab license the neighbors happened to have been out on Penn Cove hunting the eight-legged monster. The harvest quite good, with plenty of crab to feed their large family (they have twenty-eight children, and a hundred-and-three grandchildren…slight hyperbole).
CRABS!
San-J in 'take a dump' mode...Aunt Tracy behind.
The shame of no crabs...
THE BROTHERS -IN-LAW ‘J’: That week my wife’s family joined us, including Aunt Tracy and her future man Sanjay, which will give me two brothers-and-law whose name ends with ‘J’. My sister’s husband, Somjait Pongklub (beg as I did, they did not name any of their three children ‘Ping’), will arrive in August w/family. Anyway, San-J and I were good to go! Pops (stepfather-in-law) brought the crab pot, and off we went on the high seas.We let the crabs sit overnight.
My wife & Kaya. In the background are pictures of my mother and one of my father, pre-children & recent.
Unfortunately, dorks that we are, we forgot to release the doors. And thus had to resort to picking up a token crab. To keep a crab, the shell must have a diameter of at least six and quarter inches. Our crab (in the picture you can’t really see it, but it’s there) is shy about six inches…we had to throw it back.
PHOTO of the MONTH: Grandy! My mother-in-law at the Powell House.
Mother-in-law and art, on the left is a picture of my two sisters & I back in the day when I had hair.
Normally Notes of a Sexist Stay-at-home Father, or NOASSAHF (Pronounced No-ass-ah-F) grooves on the humor of parenting, sexism, and the nauseatingly cute. This post diverges toward fashion and art.
Masterpiece #1
Masterpiece #2
On the left and right are two stunning works. But who be the artist, man? Jackson Pollock? Or one of his imitators? (compare with the original JP on the sidebar) How much gravy do these works earn? In what famous galleries do they hang? How much are they worth now? Are they in a private collection? Answers at the end of the post.
Are You Kidding Me?
These girls wouldn’t be caught dead using a ‘Shopping Cart Protector’!
SHOPPING CART PROTECTORS: Gadzooks! What is going on? Is this the work of a paranoid mom? A germ freak? What marketing madness is this? For those who think their beloved offspring are in danger of contracting viruses or pissed-off cow disease or the next pandemic they can buy next placebo: the Shopping Cart Protector. The other day I was taking my three girls into a supermarket when I spied this mother using one of these contraptions(Would a guy ever use a SCP?…the weak-ass metrosexual). I mean, c’mon! (See Penn & Teller’s Bullsh*t: Safety Hysteria for a bigger picture) People are trading hard-won cash for ‘False Sense of Security’. Baby will be that much safer, yeah, like babies are dropping off like burnt flies after choking on anthrax spores contracted at Safeway. Geez, folks, just put your kid in a Skinner’s Box. Look at the pictures. Who’s got the funner parent, baby on the left, or the girls on the right? Furthermore, guess who makes the infernal gadget? It’s called a Disney Baby Dine & Shop Deluxe. (See This Post for more on the evils of Disney)
Kaya the Refrigerator Baby
Aunt Tracy Displaying her Hair Certificate From Northwest Hair Academy (On piano is a picture of my wife & I on our wedding day)
DON’T KIDS JUST SAY THE CUTEST DAMNED THINGS? Ava was watering plants the other day with mom, and she said, “Look mom, I’m spraying these plants so they will become beautiful!” Cute cute cute cute cute.
WOOL SOCKS & BELT WEENIES: I am no fashion maven. Frequently, my wife informs me that my shirts have stains, that my sweats don’t mesh with a collared shirt, or that I’m sporting a belt weenie (when the belt doesn’t loop and hangs in front of the crotch). Yet when it comes to wool socks and sandals, screw the fashion polizia! Wool socks and sandals are the bomb. Comfy, never too hot or too cool, no chafing, and since everyone in my family thinks I’m just a clueless dork who doesn’t realize wool socks are a no-no…I offer this: I know I’m a clueless dork,I just don’t care. Beware the Summer of the Wool Sock!
HOMAGE OR RIDICULE? There are people in my family who think, rather than paying tribute to my sister-in-law Tracy, that I am actually mocking her progess as a hairologist. Not so. I got her back, and nobody’s more proud than I. Tracy, you made it baby!
THE ARTIST REVEALED: Who painted the masterpieces? Where do they hang? On me as I paint a house, that’s where. The first is ‘Memory of a Persistent T-Shirt’, Masterpiece number two is known as ‘Portrait of T-Shirt in Repose’. Now that’s what I call art! Are you listening Warhol? Do you hear me Rothko? How can you guys be the man when I’m the man? ‘Nuff said.
WOOL SOCKS & BELT WEENIES: I am no fashion maven. Frequently, my wife informs me that my shirts have stains, that my sweats don’t mesh with a collared shirt, or that I’m sporting a belt weenie (when the belt doesn’t loop and hangs in front of the crotch). Yet when it comes to wool socks and sandals, screw the fashion polizia! Wool socks and sandals are the bomb. Comfy, never too hot or too cool, no chafing, and since everyone in my family thinks I’m just a clueless dork who doesn’t realize wool socks are a no-no…I offer this: I know I’m a clueless dork, I just don’t care. Beware the Summer of the Wool Sock!
Notes of a Sexist Stay-at-home Father 
