~~~

In lieu of another meaningful post to my blog, here's a funny picture.

Invisibility

I'd like to revisit a topic I've covered before: the pros and cons of super powers. As I said, my conversations with my brother-in-law delve into the wacky yet seemingly interesting and once we discussed the power of invisibility. This is a great one. The power of being invisible would be quite a treat, to say the least, and there are many reasons to develop this ability. Of course, I can only think of two off hand: looking at girls and stealing money.

But think about it... what would you really do? There are tremendous ethical problems with sneaking into some girl's house while invisible and every time I do it, my heart is racing so fast she can hear it. I sneak around my house when I'm fully visible but still make so much noise it would wake the dead. Imagine if I knew I wasn't suppose to be there? That just wouldn't work out as planned, I think. You wouldn't feel invisible so why would you think you'd be cool about it? The 'hey baby, you can't see me' thought would vanish as well the second a floor board creaked.

OK, you would rob a bank. How? Banks are pretty well locked up at night. Are you going to open the door at 2:00 pm, while invisible, waltz into the vault and stroll out with a million dollars? I don't think so. First of all, you'd be naked since clothes would give you away. Surely that would make you feel at the very least... antsy. No gloves on so your finger prints would be everywhere. I'm an educated man but I don't know where a bank keeps a million dollars so there would be a lot of fumbling around. Remember, your invisible, not quiet.

Most invisible guys forget that the money would still be quite visible. So all the bank people would watch the money float through the air and what... pop in your car and drive off? Now there's a car flying down the road with no driver. There's an attention grabber. And to top it off, a million dollars is 10,000 one hundred dollar bills. Could you even carry it? What would that weigh? Last but not least, how would you explain your sudden increase is cash while the mysterious case of the floating money made international headlines.

Trust me, being invisible has many perks. I enjoy it. But not the first ones that come to mind. I just use it to take a nap in the guest room so my wife doesn't think I'm home.

This is what keeps me up at night.

Samuel

My son has the attention span of an infant.

I guess that's fitting since, well... he is. Anyway, he has a few of those 'Baby Einstein' videos that are colorful and musical and he loves them. I guess 'loves them' is a poor choice of words. He studies it like the Zapruder Film. Put the thing in, give him something to chew on and he's fine for quite awhile. My wife and I used to discuss that maybe he'll be an engineer or architect since he pays so close attention to the shapes and movement but we've come to realize that he's just got a thing for one of the girls. That's my boy. Development and education take a back seat to girls as sweet as meadow wind with flowing hair:

Every time this girl pops up on the TV he smiles or 'coos' or sometimes jumps frantically in his exersaucer. (if the exersaucer be rocking, don't some knocking). He's out of luck, though. He's the Christopher Reeve guy in "Somewhere in Time". I did a little rough math and by the dates on the video, she's probably 20 years old by now. Older women... that's my boy.

Of course, my endless comparison between us lead me to wish I had that kind of attention. I can't even sit through a movie once anymore let alone over and over. Even if it's a good one. Like "Xanadu."

75% can't be wrong!

Here's a pic of 75% of all the people that read my blog:

Here's the other one:

Endorsement:

We saw these guys again last night. Good times....

Ferdlings endorses:
Seven Nations

~~~

I don't want to use this blog as a platform and I don't want to be a soapbox kind of guy. But I got to get this off my chest:
You know what pisses me off? Coat hangers.

Airplane II (the sequel)

My Dad wanted me to update the airplane story. Before we left to fly back home, he inspected the aircraft. All was well. All systems go, as they say. Oh wait, there was one problem. He had left some switch on and killed the battery. Those magnificent men in their flying machines... we had to jump start the plane so we wouldn't go down, diddy down down.

Hunting for Catfish

I lived in Thomson, Ga. for a while in my twenties. I guess I knew I would one day leave once I got there but decided to make the best of it anyway. I ended up making some really good friends. In the photo, from left to right, we've got Keith, Mark, Me, Alan, and Somebody. The horror show we're hovered over is our "catch 'o the day" of catfish. I discovered fishing whilst in Thomson.

One day we someone said something about fishing. My brain immediately clicked: I HAVE TO FISH. You know that feeling? All of a sudden your life revolves around something you've never done? No? Oh well. We spent many Saturday mornings floating around in a boat fishing. Well, they were fishing. I always got stuck in the middle of the boat and couldn't get much done.

One day, someone mentioned catfish. An eerie silence passed over the room and suddenly we all jumped with glee for we were going to catfish! The next thing I knew I had a pole in one hand and a bag of chicken livers in the other. They taught me what to do. Tie a chicken liver to the end of your line, throw it in a pond..... and wait. "They fight, man! They gonna fight ya!"

Yeah, they fought. And they lost! We yanked those cat-like fish out of the pond all day. I bet the water level dropped a foot. It was great. That night we went to Somebody's home and nailed the fish to a tree through it's head and ripped the skin off of it. Then we chopped the head off, peeled out the meat and Somebody's Mom fried them up. It was easily one of the best things I've ever put in my mouth.

It was actually one of the best days I've ever had. But not because I enjoyed the meal or that the fishing was fun. I considered these people my friends. They took me in and showed me a world I knew nothing about. It would belittle them to say that they were my friends because I had nothing else to do and knew then that I would soon move on and never see them again. Maybe they're the ones that moved on and I'm the one left behind.

All I know is that I miss those guys. Even Somebody.