Misunderstood Browns

Sometimes my clothes-matching ability becomes impaired. On certain days, my browns get mixed up. I think, "Hey, I'll wear some brown stuff," and usually that goes okay. But today, I picked out my dirty brown, worn out shoes. Then I wore a slightly different brown argyle socks, that have some creamish colors in them. Then I wore some mostly-brown pants that sometimes look a little grey. Then I wore a shirt that I think is brown, but is kinda reddish, and also has some yellow stripes. Underneath, I actually wore a green t-shirt, which believe it or not I do not think was the problem. As I was walking around, however, I became aware that all of my browns were wrong, and the outfit was not working. I do not as of now understand why. But it is true. I looked like a mis-dressed life-sized 2nd rate muppet.

Making A Difference

So now as a new father I fully believe this report:

“Diapers are all about poly, which is all oil, Cramer said. Because everything in diapers in a product of petroleum or natural gas, as the cost of oil comes down, so does the cost of making diapers.”

Last night alone we affected gas prices radically. Buy buy buy!

Anxiety

In the process of quitting one of my three jobs. It's a bad job. It's good on my resume, but bad in every other way, and it was only one shift per week...until last night when the bad manager told me that I'd have to double my hours at the bad job, and by the way here's the memo that says so sogoaheadandscheduleyourselfseeyoulaterbye.

And the job is so far down on the list of things that are priorities/mandatory, that I really have no alternative other than to call it quits.

I won't miss the place, but those phone calls are never fun. I'm waiting for the call back.

Small blip in the grand scheme of life, but an uncomfortable day for the moment.

(I know that this is less than thrilling blog material, but maybe it gets me back in the groove?)
(Vinnissimo, good to see you. Don't think I haven't strongly considered putting up a rogue post on behalf of your paternal ass! You da man.)

A blast

from the not so distant past .

Reason for Quiet

This time of the year is always busy for me. Most of my life has been spent as either a teacher or a student, so the beginning-of-the-fall-semester rush is something of a constant in my life. That hasn't changed with my transition out of working in higher ed - it's always nutty this time of year, and I suppose that's probably true for most of us. Thus, no posts for about two weeks.

I've also been filling up my few spare minutes with more reading than usual. I'm an avid reader, but I've been more devoted to it than usual in the past few weeks. I was going to give you my reading list since July 1, but I'd rather just highlight my current reading selection:

Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda by Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire is a memoir by the commander of UN forces in Rwanda from 1993-1994. His description of the book as an accounting of failure is apt, as everyone and everything seems to fail. International diplomacy fails, human decency fails, bravery fails, UN leadership fails, individual people fail, and the only thing that seems to triumph is evil.

From his preface:

After one of my many presentations following my return from Rwanda, a Canadian Forces padre asked me how, after all I had seen and experienced, I could still believe in God. I answered that I know there is a God because in Rwanda I shook hands with the devil. I have seen him, I have smelled him and I have touched him. I know the devil exists, and therefore I know there is a God.

He describes his meetings with leaders of the Interahamwe, who were responsible for a large number of killings during the genocide, with details such as noting the dried blood spattered on the clothes and skin of the men with whom he was negotiating. He also details his conscious decision to unload his weapon before these meetings so as to not have the temptation to shoot the men during the meetings. Without self-pity, he recounts his decisions and actions and shares his pains, regrets, and frustrations.

If you're not familiar with Dallaire's story (and I wasn't), he became the highest-ranking military officer to openly struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder after his experience in Rwanda, and contemplated suicide in his darkest days. The writing of this book was a part of his recovery and provides an accounting of one of the greatest moral failures of recent history. It's a painful but compelling read.

A New Rule

If you are over the age of 12, you may not wear or have tatooed anywhere on your body the Superman logo unless you have submitted an application to an appropriate review board of sane adults.

Love My TiVo

I do. I really do.

The other two hombres and I met as students at a university known for its football team and its music school. Of the trio, I was the only one to get particularly excited about the football team (Teo being more into the Cubbies and Vinnissimo being more into Omar Hakim solo records) and remain something of a die-hard fan.

My beloved team is playing their archrivals tonight and I was able to review my son's math homework, have dinner with the family, do laundry, and wash the dishes without stressing about missing the game. Why? Because I have TiVo grabbing it for me and I just pause the game while I do what I need to and then come back when I'm ready. I fast forward through the commercials and the dead time during halftime and I'm more or less watching the game in real time.

God bless the good people of TiVo.