The Generator

I was having a little discussion with The Kid tonight just before dinner.

Me: So what else did you do at school today?

The Kid: Well, Mr. Jose wasn’t there today so we couldn’t help him with the trash.

Me: Who’s Mr. Jose?

The Kid: He’s the generator.

I held my laughter as Ann was trying to disguise hers. It didn’t work too well.

Ah, the joys of conversing with a 5-year-old boy.

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Disneyland Shooting Gallery Goes Nuts

We got to Disneyland at 8 a.m. on Sunday so we could enjoy what we thought would be a relatively “quiet” day in the Park.

And for the most part, it was. Hey, I got to sit in the front seat on Splash Mountain and there was no line, either. In fact, while walking through Frontierland I decided I’d stop to take a picture of the shooting gallery. I figured that since there was not one person playing the game and it’s usually pretty crowded otherwise, this would be the perfect opportunity to get the shot.

So I stood there, took aim and pressed the shutter. And that’s when it happened.

At the firing of the flash, every animated object every sound was triggered. Every owl animal was howling, every horn on every bull’s skull was a-spinning. Thinking it was rather comical, I grabbed my other camera* and shot this clip:

The whole thing reminded me of episode of The Simpsons when the family goes to Itchy and Scratchy Land and the robots go crazy with the camera flashes. Now, I could have stood there and throughly entertained myself for hours on end but hey, The Kid wanted to go see Jack Skellington’s Haunted Mansion Holiday and I can’t blame him for that.

A few passersby were also getting laugh out of it so I wasn’t the only one being entertained by the shenanigans.

So the next time you go to Disneyland/Disney World, give it a try. Just, you know, make sure there are no Disney Cops around when you do.

* A rare occasion. We usually only take one camera.

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Breakfast @ Disneyland. Soaked from Splash Mountain. Pirates next!


The Dullard

First of all, I moved our backup XP-based computer from the garage back into the house. It’s a little slow but at least the damn thing works. Now onto the rest.

Ask anyone about me and you’re bound to get the same answer: I’m pretty normal. Yes, I crack an occasional joke and enjoy making people laugh—or at least try as the contents of this blog would seem to indicate.

I’m a dullard. There’s no doubt about it. And I’ve been that way for a majority, if not all, of my 40 years of life on this ball of confusion. To take things even further, consider the following statistics:

Taking into account all of the aforementioned stats, I began to wonder if I’d continue to live as my dull self into my Golden Years. And taking the weight loss aspect into consideration, it’s simple to say that physically, I’m not the same person I was over 4 years ago.

Then there’s the goatee which I chose to let grow this year. A big change for me since, when I was fat, I could never grow one. Too much face fat or something. So yes, losing 1/3 of my body weight and the addition of facial hair definitely made a difference but I needed to do just one more thing.

So what exactly did I do? Something I had been considering for quite some time now.

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Passing the Torch

dictionaries-lores As if you hadn’t figured it out by now, your ol’ pal Dave fancies himself a writer. Hell, I even got paid for doing it a few years ago when I haphazardly pieced together articles about artificial turf, granite countertops, and other topics of the most uninteresting nature.

My love for words came to me at an early age, and it was all because of the books you see on the left (and yes, those are the actual books and not a stock photo). Call me a nerd or whatever but as a kid, I spent any spare time I had with my face buried in the pages of either one of those books, absorbing and digesting all the information I could. So much time, in fact, that the letter tabs on either volume of those dictionaries became worn over the years—even the XYZ section.

From grade school through adulthood, those World Book Dictionaries were my source to the world of words, spelling, and pronunciation. If not for them I probably wouldn’t be such a Grammar Nazi, have my own blog, get jobs as a proofreader and writer, or even be remotely interested in written communication. Then again, I might have had a real job by now, too.

But I digress. Either way I’m glad I spent the time with those books, two volumes of wordy goodness that I simply could not do without.

And yesterday, I let them go.

As I explained their significance, I tearfully yet confidently passed them down to The Kid in the hopes that, even in this world of let’s-Google-it-and-see-what-it-means, their worn and sometimes dog-eared pages will stir his imagination and open his mind to the endless possibilities that await him in his budding academic journey.

Here’s hoping that he gets just as much use out of these dictionaries that I did, and that he wows his classmates with his etymological prowess.

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