Kicking the Bucket

Like everyone else in America, I also did the Bucket Challenge. Though, I may not have read the instructions correctly.

Finger-Licking Good!

Finger-Licking Good!

Not to get too preachy, but ALS is a terrible condition that has visited my family. And, if you have to dump a bucket of chicken on your head to help find a cure, then do it. And, I’ll even bring the mashed potatoes and gravy.

Wake Up, Little Susie

So, my magical playlist of Classic Rock songs that the girls should know comes on the blue-toothified radio. While we are tooling down the freeway at 65mph. (I know! 65! In LA! A great day indeed.)

“Wake Up, Little Susie.” Everly Brothers.

Me: Oh, Girls, this is a Great song. You need to know this song.

Isabella (she’s 7): Is this a Great song, or just a Good song?

Me: Well, Honey. I don’t know that I need to hear this song everyday, but it is a very important song.

Iz: But, is it a Great song, or an Important song?

Me: Honey, you are splitting hairs.

Iz: I don’t know what that means. I’m 7.

Me: Sometimes a Great song is an Important song. And, sometimes an Important song is a Great song.

Iz: Then, is this a Great song or an Important song?

Me: Sweetie, without this song, we would have no Lennon-McCartney, Simon-Garfunkle, Bowie-Mercury. Or whenever any two people sing together.

Iz: So, it’s an Important song.

Me: Yes, and it’s Great!

Iz: Wait, go back.


Julianna (she’s 10, calling from a distant room): Daaaddyyy… How do you spell “Furnace? Or the video game monster will kill me!”

Me: Monster?

Isabella (7): Daddy, can I tell her? I know how to spell it!

Me: Really, you do? I don’t think so…

Iz: F-U..

Me: Ok, I guess I had that coming. How old are you?

Iz: 7. No, Daddy… F-u-n… No, wait.

Me: Oh, this will be Fun.

Iz: Daddy! Stop! Furcsace. No. Funscaser. Wait. Furcnsae.

Me (shouting Letters of encouragement: Furn…)

Iz: Fcnrseae.

J: Quick! I need to know!

Wha-Wha…. You’ve been eaten.

J: Daddy, this is all your fault.

Iz: Yeah, Daddy! Your fault.

Me: You never asked me how to spell “fir-ness,” the quality of a fir tree.

Water World

Julianna (she’s 10): Daddy, what were you and Mommy doing in the pool?

Me: What did you see? And, who did you tell?

J: What? You were in the Hello Kitty float and Mommy was in the recliner. You were just holding hands.

Me: We were floating. Together.

J: But, you weren’t even talking.

Me: Well, Grasshopper. Sometimes, the water says more than words can ever express. Peace.

J: Grass what? You’re weird.

Phone Home

The other night, we sat down to watch the original “ET – Phone Home” movie on basic cable. And by that, I mean we were swamped with endless commercials (a 96-minute movie ended up at 3 hours.)

Toward the end, ET dies. (Ooops, Spoiler Alert. Sorry.)

Julianna (She’s 10): Daddy! Did ET really die?!

Me: No, Honey. He comes back.

J: Because… This is just a movie. And, you said that he was just a dwarf in a costume.

Me: I guess I said that somewhere along the way.

J: Then, why is that girl crying?

She is referring to 5-year-old Drew Barrymore.

J: Did they really kill ET?

Me: No. She was acting.

J: Did they kill her cat?

Me: No. Acting. Shush. Let me watch the movie.

In the background:

Did they rub salt in her eye? (No.)
Did they kill her hamster? (No.)
Is she being deported to Guatemala? (No. Different type of Alien. Also, undocumented)
Did they apply too much sunscreen? (No. Non-tears formula)
Did they cut onions in her eyes? (No.)
Did they shoot Old Yeller? (No. Well, yes. Different movie.)

I am totally ignoring this Blah Blah Blah because I want to hear the end of the story.

Me: Jesus! Please!… He comes back to life (no New Testament allusion there…) Just wait!

And, John Williams delivers the Perfect Coda!

Cue the music: Da-Dee…. da-da-da-da-Da-Deee.

(My music friends will get this.)

ET lives.

Water Perspective

In the pool…

Julianna (she’s 10): Daddy, underwater with my goggles on, your stomach is huge!

Me: No, Honey. It’s called “Disfraction.” (I have no clue. Making it up.) Light waves bounce around and amplify. Water does crazy things to light. But, your perspective changes. And, when you consider your goggles, there’s some crazy Hollywood mojo going on.

J: No. Without my goggles. That’s your stomach.

Urban Blight

Yesterday, the Los Angeles Department of Building and Safety (DBS) issued me a “Courtesy Notice” telling me that the awning over my carport was an “eye-sore” and ordered me to remove it because it was “in public view.” It, apparently, contributes to “Urban Blight.”


The DBS supports “the needs of business and commerce while protecting public safety and the visual environment.”

It supports Business. So, I guess it’s a Win for actual, normal citizens. Business and Commerce First!

Also, a “visual environment.”

My carport offends nobody. And, it is safe.

Look past the Mini-van.  Obviously, Urban Blight.

Look past the Mini-van. Obviously, Urban Blight.

I call the phone number because, you’re kidding me. Seriously? I leave a message on the guy’s voice mail because his office hours are (no kidding) 7am to 10am.

So, the guy from the City returns my call at 6:55 this morning, because that’s a reasonable time to call people. Let me put my pants on.

“Canvas is not an approved material,” “Visible from the street,” “No one has complained.”

Our driveway is awesome. We’ve even had a party or two under that awning.

Two days ago, a birthday party! (Julianna turned 10! Yay!) No one mentioned the Urban Blight caused by my carport.

But, because I know this guy is just doing his job, and after telling him that this was insane…. There’s only one place this can go:

I said to the guy on the phone, very politely, “I guess I’ll see you in court.”

He replied (honestly): “I wish you good luck.”

(Which sounds better because he has an Indian accent. Namaste.)

Black Holes

It’s past their bedtime, but they are watching Science(!) on TV with God himself (Morgan Freeman) narrating.

Isabella (she’s 7): Is that a Black Hole?

Me: That’s what one looks like.

Julianna (certified 10-year-old): So, that’s actually a black hole.

Me: Well, no. Honey. That’s what scientists think a black hole looks like.

Iz: But, wouldn’t the camera get sucked into the black hole.

J: And, how could they climb out of the black hole to tell us what it is like.

Me: Ok, Girls…. No one has gone into a black hole. This is what scientists think it is like. They do it in a computer.

Iz: So black holes aren’t real?

Me: No, Honey. They are real. But, we can’t actually see them. Science!

J: And Global Warming?

Me: Yes. But, don’t get me started.

Iz: And Evolution.

Me: Yes! Undeniably a wonderful story there! Where to begin….

Dearly Beloved

Two of our very dearest friends got married this afternoon.

Things have changed since the first time you got married:

a) The couple was a thousand miles away in Washington State while we were in Los Angeles, California,
b) YouTube streamed it live,
c) We ate popcorn throughout the ceremony…
d) And, even a little wine.
e) And, a bathroom break.

And, here’s the best part

Isabella (She’s 7): Where’s the girl and her dress?

Me: Well, Honey. There’s no girl. f) These are two boys getting married.

Iz: They can do that?

Me: Yes. Does that bother you? Because, you know, they love each other.

Iz: No, not really. Does someone wear a dress? Are they going to kiss?

Me: No. And yes.

Iz: When? Now! Yay!

And the Republic still stands.

Photon Torpedos

Watching the Science Channel tonight. Julianna is intrigued.

A photon begins its life at the center of the sun as a gamma ray. It takes hundreds of thousands of years for the photon to make it to the surface. It loses it gamma ray energy down to X-ray energy and finally to visible light. That’s quite a demotion. And it takes a million years.

Julianna has already fallen asleep. Not me. This is awesome.

Finally, our poor photon escapes the gravitational pull and environment of the sun. At 186,000 miles per second it aims itself at our blue planet of Earth.

It bounces off of Kim Kardashian’s ass. Shit.

Dear Mr. Photon: We regret to inform you that your existence will be undervalued, and may cause a local health outbreak. We had hoped hoped for the Declaration of Independence, the Magna carta, or the Ten Commandments. Alas, Mr. Photon, you are contributing to a “reality” TV show.

May your energy be transformed….