It’s been another whirlwind week: resuming school, impending storms, conventions, bizarre announcements and college football! Life is surely a coaster ride. I’ve found it’s a lot more enjoyable when you are able to loose your grip from the safety bar and raise your arms carefree. Maybe even emitting a little–WAHOO!!! for good measure.
But don’t close your eyes. Things are happening fast. Very fast. And should you let your guard down just a little, chances are you will miss something very, very important.This week’s Sunday Sonnet was inspired by what I can only determine to be the truest testament reflecting how those that are or wish to be in power actually regard me.
Thanks, John
What tiny faction of enlighted souls
Could have possibly thought this prudent?
So tightly controlled. Calculated.
Almost sinister.
Haughty posturing and self
serving idealisms conveyed.
As if you really cared.
Definitely sinister.
Surprising still, is the narrowing chasm.
The margins reduced as we
Continue our fleecing.
Bitter pills, indeed.
And now, Sarah Palin?
Thanks John–we needed that!
In just over two months, every single one of you (of proper age, of course) will have an opportunity. An opportunity to speak your mind, to have your voice heard. Think hard about what you wish to say. Study. Prepare. When your turn comes, do you wish to sound well prepared and intelligent? Or like an idiot!
“Man,” I thought. “What cool kids I’ve got.” They were sitting in the living room engrossed in what I thought was a rock-u-mentary chronicling the storied punk rock band, The Ramones. I could hear them chanting—Gabba, gabba.
Cool! I sat down to catch the program myself. Granted, I’m not a huge Ramones fan but I appreciate their music and I figured a documentary about them would surely be pretty interesting.
“That’s not Joey Ramone,” I said to no one in particular and everyone just the same.
“Who’s Joe? Dad, that’s DJ Lance.”
“What in the world are you guys watching?” I asked a little heartbroken, my pride bubble having just been exploded with the visage of my kids engrossed with a group of fuzzy puppets gett’n jiggy wit a DJ in a furry orange fez.
“Dad!! It’s Yo Gabba Gabba!” they collectively shouted at me, insinuating “be quiet and let us watch the show!”
I sat. I watched. In silence. In stunned disbelief.
Halfway through the show I felt as if I had just dropped acid and it was starting to kick in. Or maybe the shrooms were turning on me. Either way, this trip was getting freaky!
Have you seen this show? Wild ride, man! Wild. Ride. This guy, DJ Lance takes you on a journey each day with his fuzzy, puppet-like buddies: Muno the red cyclops, Foofa the pink flower bubble, Brobee the little green one, Toodee the blue cat-dragon and Plex the robot. I’m not making this up! I’m not that imaginative.
Each episode focuses on a theme pertinent to kids and communicates that message with pithy repetitive dialogue and beatbox based music.
At one point in the show, DJ Lance hands a plastic bag to one of the Gabbas and the music starts—Try it, you’ll like it! Try it, you’ll like it! Over and over and over. He was trying to get the Gabba to try a new snack–avocado. Really! What kid eats avocado??!! I could swear though, that he handed the dude a dime bag and then relentlessly goaded him into sparking one up.
And that’s how it all starts. Some happy dude in a fuzzy hat hands you a baggie and says, “First one’s on me, kid. Go ahead, it’s all good!”
During another segment, one of the Gabbas drops a piece of bread on the ground. Immediately he stoops to get it and is about to eat it when the scene flashes to the microbes on the bread who start a loop of their own–”We’re tiny! We’ll make you sick! We’re tiny! We’ll make you sick!”
Whatever happened to the five second rule? Jeez! I mean, around here, unless you drop your food in the toilet, it’s still edible. Pick it up. Wipe it off. And eat it. Good Lord! Do you know what a loaf of bread costs these days?
I guess the final frontier of absolute weirdness came during the Cool Talents section of the program. Picture flashed to a guy who played Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
By squeezing his clasped hands together.
Making fart sounds.
Key of G, I think it was.
Now I’m about appreciating a good stupid human trick, but not during my kids programming. It’s a bit too much to swallow.
My advice to you. If you dare to partake of the trippy ride that is Yo Gabba Gabba, bring a safety buddy. Trust me, you do not want to be alone when it turns on you. Come to think of it, you may also want a safety buddy when partaking of the wild ride that is Joey Ramone.
Our pool closes for the season this Monday, Labor Day. I know five little kids that are really going to miss it. We started the summer pasty white and timid. Afraid of uncertainty. Buoyancy was a foreign concept. Swimming strokes like the overhand crawl, the breast stroke and back stroke were skill concepts seemingly impossible to master.
Constant exposure and repetition built confidence. Fingers loosed their grip from the reassuring security of the pool edge and children dared venture into the vast unknown. We had lessons. We played. We splashed. We lived at the pool this summer and my children have reaped the benefits.
It has been difficult to get to the pool this past week with school having started. A cool front also made it’s way into town and seems to have lingered, yesterday’s high temperatures nearing 74 degrees. But Tuesday before the cool weather arrived, we hit the pool. I’m glad we did.
Zoë, who has been struggling with a proper dive all summer long, decided she was going to try a front flip. No urging or coaching. She just stepped up onto the diving board and announced, “I’m gonna do a flip!” And then proceeded to do it. She smacked a couple of times but undaunted, kept going back. A few pointers and some minor adjustments and the girl had it down.
As fortune would have it–I had my camera. This was taken after her initial rounds of 4 or 5 practices. As you will see, her confidence literally exploded. Oh, and she’s not particularly camera shy, either.
It was bound to happen, I think the word is inevitable. Sooner or later it was going to happen. Seems it happened sooner, I’m just responding later—much later. I’ve never really been good a schoolyard games. I was that punk kid that decided when it was his turn to be it that we should change games or play something else. Or I’d just quit altogether forcing those who still wanted to play to continue on without me.
I got tagged. Twice. I thought they would forget but I guess not. Seems that Karen MEG of A Day in the Life…One Glass at a Time wants to know a group of six things about me. She wanted to know a long time ago (June 26). And more recently Piper of Bliss in Bloom wanted a similar rendition of six things explained about me.
OK. So Maybe I can work the two together to answer the burning questions ergo satisfying the terms of my being it.
I have to ask, though. Why six? Why not three or seven? Isn’t seven supposed to be the perfect number? Three is usually the end of the counting chain. Pick up any children’s book. A…B…C…One..Two..Three. That’s it. And how high do you count before taking a big leap? Three. Right! One, Two, Three…Jump.
Well, I guess in the truest sense that would be four because it’s three then jump. Unless of course, you jump on three. Then it’s just three and it’s all good. Depending on where you may be jumping. Then it may not be so good. From a diving board into the cool refreshing pool below……good. From a tall building into the crowded concrete streets below…..not so good.
Wow. Where did that come from? OK. It seems I have seriously lost my way. OH!! I’ve got to tell you this, though. Yesterday, I got an award. Was it an award or just recognition? I can’t remember. It looks like this…..
Mrs. 4444 at Half-Past Kissin’ Time was handing these out yesterday. Who knew. I love her stipulation to passing on the award. You have to take a picture of yourself doing something stupid. Mrs was very impressive. Just take a look for yourself.
So, although I’m probably not going to play along and pass on the award—I know, I suck. Really, I feel that if you have ever made it through one of my posts—any of my posts—you deserve an award. Please feel free to take the award and own it. Tell everyone that I gave it to you. In the strictest sense, I suppose I did.
Anyway, I loved the stupid human trick photo idea. I laughed so hard at Mrs. 4444′s that I may have piddled. I really wasn’t expecting it. Well, it was difficult to capture the essence of my stupid human trick with a single photo so I filmed it.
Oh, and I’m not quite sure I answered any of the memes. I’ll try them again later.
