1. I very rarely get sick. When I do get sick, though, it seems to stick with me. I’ve had a chronic cough for over a week now and I just can’t seem to get all of the gunk out of my chest. It’s keeping me (and my wife) from getting a good night of sleep, I always have headaches from the pressure of the coughs, and I’m just generally miserable. Pity me.

2. The poison ivy, however, is gone! Well, except for the large spots of dead skin that are still flaking off. I don’t know why I always put off going to the doctor when prednisone wipes the stuff out within a few days.

3. Rhonda completed an awesome grocery shopping trip this weekend. She bought two weeks of groceries for only slightly more (we’re talking like within ten or fifteen dollars) than we usually spend on a week! This may seem like a silly thing to be proud of, but we’re always looking for a way to cut down on our expenses and she did an amazing job.

4.  I don’t know how this happened, but Harper will be a whole year old on Friday! It feels like only a few days ago that he was born and we were falling asleep together in the big easy chair in his hospital room with his mommy. And only a day or two later that I was falling asleep holding his hand while he was recovering from surgery for pyloric stenosis. I’m not sure that I approve of this whole “growing up” business.

5. Rhonda is far too sweet to mention it, but I think she slightly regrets not having a wedding with a reception and all that.  This weekend, her family is throwing a big cookout for us to celebrate our wedding.  Granted, we’re also celebrating several birthdays, but I still think it will do us both some good.  Want to come?

6. I watched the Lost finale. So yeah…that…happened.

7. I get really annoyed by people who complain about spoilers.  I realize that not everybody can watch a television episode or movie or read a book right when it comes out, but that’s when you avoid the places and conversations that may spoil what happens.  It is not my responsibility to protect you from spoilers, people – do not make your problems my problems, especially when it infringes on my ability to enjoy things that I made the time to experience.

8.  I forgot what eight was for!

9.  I truly appreciate my father-in-law’s generosity in letting us stay here while we get on our feet, but I hate the way he treats my wife sometimes.  He never does it when I’m around, but I’m always hearing how he talks down to her and treats her like she’s stupid or chastises her for not filling a more “traditional” role as a mother and wife when I’m not around.  Rhonda is about the least stupid person I know and I love that we try to share responsibilities, no matter what gender they’re traditionally assigned to.  I will always treasure the year I spent as a stay at home dad while my wife worked and if it came down to me missing out on sleep before work or missing out on seeing my kids for a little while, I’d rather give up sleep.

Some have floated the theory that he’s intimidated by women, but that seems totally bizarre to me.  Considering his mother raised him and his brothers and sisters alone, you’d think he’d have more respect for women.

10.  Not done with my soapbox yet.  The fact that this is typical behavior for our politicians in Mississippi drives me insane.  I have read more hypocritical speeches and bald-faced lying out of leaders since I moved here than I have in my entire life – and I’ve had two Bushes as governors.

I’m not saying Mississippi politicians are corrupt, but I heard Haley Barbour is holding a “Going Out Of Office” sale this year.

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Light some candles, burn some incense, sit back, and enjoy.

THE LOVE SONG OF J. ALFRED PRUFROCK

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats	        5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...	        10
Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,	        15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,	        20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;	        25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;	        30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go	        35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair --	        40
[They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin --
[They will say: 'But how his arms and legs are thin!]
Do I dare	        45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,	        50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
  So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all--        55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?	        60
  And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress	        65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
  And should I then presume?
  And how should I begin?
      .      .      .      .      .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets	        70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
      .      .      .      .      .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!	        75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?	        80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet--and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,	        85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,	        90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'--	        95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
  Should say: 'That is not what I meant at all.
  That is not it, at all.'

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,	        100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor--
And this, and so much more?--
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:	        105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
  'That is not it at all,
  That is not what I meant, at all.'
      .      .      .      .      .	        110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,	        115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...        120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.	        125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown	        130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

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1. As you may have noticed from the reference to “my lovely wife”, Rhonda and I finally got married!  It was a fairly simple affair – we just went to the Mobile, AL, courthouse and did the deed.  Our “honeymoon” was a night away from the boys in the swanky (by our standards) Downtown/Historic District Holiday Inn and boozing the night away with some good friends.  Rhonda keeps threatening to write up a post about the whole thing.  If she ever carries out her threat, I’ll make sure to link it up.

2.  Harper is walking! He’s been pulling himself up and even standing on his own for a couple of weeks, but didn’t have the confidence to try more than a few steps.  Last Wednesday, though, he decided to go for it.  While we were waiting for Jude’s mom to drop him off, Harper got up and just started toddling.  Two steps was about normal.  Then he took another, and another, and made it to ten steps before toddling over.  He’s gone a little farther every day since and seems very proud of himself.

3.  Jude left yesterday.  I may or may not have cried a little when he left – I can neither confirm nor deny.  I’m already missing him like crazy and August seems a long way off, but I’m also kind of glad for the relative peace in the house since he left.  It’s also nice to be able to stretch out in our bed again without little elbows jabbing me in the ribs.

4.  I’m really impressed by how good Nick is with Harper.  He does get irritated, like any big brother would, and occasionally just wants to hide out in his room, but he also goes out of his way to look out for Harper.  Occasionally, he even yells at Mommy and Daddy to be nicer to his baby brother.

5. A big reason for my lack of posting is that I’ve been working and adjusting to working an evening shift.  I’m sure part of it is that I’m just happy to be working after a year of unemployment, but I’m really enjoying my job.  It’s challenging without being impossibly hard, There’s pretty good support if I have any problems, and we have awesome benefits.  I get pretty much every holiday off (paid!) and the company partnered with the county in a free clinic that we have access to the day we’re hired.

6. There is constantly some sickness, usually in the form of a cold, circulating through this house.  Rhonda almost always catches it, and I rarely do.  This time, though, I seem to have caught it.  I rarely get sick, but I seem to pay for it by getting really sick when I finally catch something.  Between this and number 7, I’m in for a miserable week.

7. I developed a rash last week.  At first it seemed kind of mild and not itching that bad, so I wasn’t too worried about it.  But now I’m starting to notice it spreading, getting more red, and more itchy.  I think I have poison ivy or poison oak, and that’s not good.  This is the least disturbing picture I have from my last poison ivy outbreak:

Like I said... this is the least disturbing, the others are much worse.

So yeah… I need to go to that free clinic.  Sadly, I don’t have the fifteen dollars for the meds I know they’ll prescribe for this.  I may have to tough it out until payday on Friday.

8. I’m no longer questioning my geekiness, but I am realizing that my inner geek is… morphing, I guess?  I’m into more adult things these days, or geeking out on a more adult level.  I haven’t read a comic in ages and, while I’m mildly interested in what’s been going on in comics, I don’t really miss them all that much.  I guess I’m just too busy.  Yes, this probably means that For The Love of Comics has ended its run. I’ll keep paying the hosting fees and all that, but I don’t see myself updating it again any time soon, if ever. I probably will begin writing about things that I’m geeking out about here, like books and some cool toys I’ve found for the kids.

9. Since moving to South Mississippi, which is highly conservative, I’ve found myself getting pushed further left, or at least more vocally left-wing.  I’m not really going anywhere with this point, it’s just something I’ve noticed about myself recently.

10. Rhonda and I are starting up a blog focused on the small, tragically unwired town we live in. Rhonda gives a nice explanation of our vision in her Tuesday Ten post today, which I’ll quote for you here.

We live in a small town that is so not connected to the internet.  The few hiring businesses want you to send in a resume… via snail mail.  People shop and do business in surrounding cities, because they don’t even know what’s available to them here.  And the local newspaper (published once a week, on Thursdays) is very sad.  The “writers” have very biased views… and they show in the articles.  I’m pretty sure you can pay for an article too (if you agree with the editor’s views, at least).  We hope to bring something new and fresh to the table, and we’ve gotten a lot of good feedback about our plans!

Jokes about launching a new blog when I can’t even keep this one updated, while very accurate, should be kept to oneself.

And that’s ten!

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But he finally came to see me last week.  His mom dropped him off on her way to visit a friend in Texas, so we’ve been hanging out since Wednesday.  Actually, he’s mostly been hanging out with Nick, Harper, and Rhonda since I had to work Thursday and Friday, but we had a fun weekend.  His mom is picking him up again tomorrow morning, but the visit was fun while it lasted.

Here are some pictures of the big boys having fun in a mud puddle today.  It’s the simple things in life, really.

Not even the dog wanted into this puddle

He's running to wipe mud on me... evil child.

Now Nick wants in on it...

Daddy's Little Monsters

Anyone want to buy some kids?

I love having all of my boys around, but it will also be nice to get back into our routine and get some rest.  Also, I would like to have my entire bed back…. next time Jude comes to visit, we need to invest in bunk beds or something.

Anyway, I would love to say that I’m going to get on a regular posting schedule again, but you’ve heard that from me before and there’s a distinct chance that Jude’s mom and grandparents are going to kill me when they find out I let him play in puddles and mud and stuff, so no promises.  If I somehow survive and do get back to regular postings, you’ll all just have to be pleasantly surprised.

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PS: Do y’all miss me?  I miss you.

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I have tried over and over to write a review of Stephen King’s Under The Dome that sounds intelligent and is full of subtle nuance, but my thoughts come down to one simple opinion – after over 1,000 pages, Under The Dome leaves you disappointed and feeling like King has wasted his time and yours.

A major problem is that King doesn’t seem to know exactly what kind of story he wants to tell.  The first chapter sets us up for a story about what has caused a small town to be cut off from the rest of the world by an invisible dome.  Almost immediately thereafter, the dome is relegated to a subplot and the book focuses on the a corrupt councilman and his cronies persecuting anyone he deems necessary in order to keep his stranglehold on his personal fiefdom and the growing resistance growing around a drifter who is also a former army interrogator haunted by the things he saw in Iraq.  After over 1,000 pages, though, that conflict is never brought to a satisfying conclusion and we finally discover the secret of the dome in a characteristically (for King) hurried ending.

Ok, it’s probably not fair to say that King didn’t know what kind of story he wanted to tell – it’s an exploration of the cruelty we are all capable of, regardless of gender, race, nationality, or even planet of origin.  It’s more accurate to say he didn’t seem to know how he wanted tot ell the story, or didn’t trust the story to stand on its own without shoehorning some fantastical element into the background.

The dome could have easily been attributed to a more mundane source, allowing King to focus more on the effect it had on the town and giving the two opposing forces a more satisfying confrontation and resolution, and I not only would not have minded, but likely enjoyed the investment that reading 1,074 pages requires.  Instead, King forced a fantastic, otherworldly cause into the ending and I’m left feeling that I read the whole thing for nothing.

Maybe this was one of Scott Landon’s “bools?”*

*Scott Landon was a character in King’s Lisey’s Story, another book that probably didn’t need the otherworldly element to tell its story, but at least it didn’t feel shoehorned in

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