Emergency Preparedness

For scouts last night, we worked on the Emergency Preparedness merit badge. We discussed how to prepare for, respond to, recover from, and mitigate or prevent kitchen fires and garages fires, food poisoning, avalanches, stranded vehicles (in deserts or blizzards), backcountry accidents, explosions, and various other emergencies. There was also a discussion of 72-hour kits and family evacuation plans. But the real scouting kicked in when it came time to plan to the mock disaster and troop mobilization plan. The mobilization involves assembling at the church with water, snacks and Nerf guns in order to combat the zombie apocalypse. Now I just need to find a few zombies...

This brings me to this morning at the office. You see, in our office, as in most offices, we have both emergency generators and emergency responders. Our biggest emergency generator kicked into gear yesterday, and no one realized it until this morning, when I noticed the emergency generator bouncing and spinning wildly out of control.  Like a good scout, I had to take on the role of emergency responder.  It was time to apply the emergency preparedness steps discussed last night. First, I had to  respond by reviewing the misinterpreted e-mail that caused the emergency. Then explain to the emergency generator that if you read past the first line, you would realize that the e-mail states nearly the opposite of what you had been concerned about. Then to recover, I canceled various meetings scheduled in response to the emergency and contacted various parties to clarify the situation. Third, to mitigate or prevent this from happening again, I asked if there is any way to take away the emergency generator's e-mail access. (No, it wasn't possible.)  Lastly, to prepare for the next time (because there will be a next time), I will need to bring my zombie apocalypse response kit to work. At least then I will have a snack and a Nerf gun.

Since it was Halloween...

Since it was Halloween, Julie decided to shred her right calf muscle. It had been ten years since she last was able to wear one of those fashionable boots. She only gets the boot for a few weeks though, so it's not exactly like ten years ago, when it was for a few months. I told Julie we were too old to repeat this again in ten more years.

Since Julie was wearing a boot for Halloween, I decided to dress up as a college graduate in maroon & gold graduation robes, because that's what I wear when Julie wears her boot. It is the only matching costume.  I wore those robes was ten years ago, the last time Julie was wearing a boot.

Since in was Halloween and since Julie was wearing a boot, I made the "Mummy Dogs" for the early Halloween dinner we have out on the street with our neighbors. Julie made them in the past using Lil Smokies and homemade dough. I used Veinna Sausages in BBQ sauce and Pillsbury crescent roll dough. Some of you may know that this resulted in a distinct difference in quality (those without taste-buds may not).  They still looked like Mummy Dogs and since it was Halloween, that was all that mattered.  Some kids will eat processed bologna sticks wrapped in processed roll dough (though not very many). Julie made sure I took all the credit for them.

Since it was Halloween, Katie dressed up as a spy and went Trick-or-Treating with a group of friends. Part way through she realized she had a hole in her bag. She got a new bag and still managed to collect far more candy than she needed.

Since Sarah is now 12, she did not go Trick-or-Treating. She dressed as Princess Aurora and passed out candy for Halloween. She invited a friend over, who came dressed as Cinderella. Several very small princesses who came around for candy were very impressed.  Several pre-teen/young teen-age boys who came around were not.  "I'm not getting candy from a princess!"  I call that a win-win.

Since Jordan is 14, he also does not go Trick-or-Treating. So he went to a friend's home to "hang out."  (Some time between 10 and 12, kids no longer "play" with friends, they "hang out.")  Hanging out is a very ambiguous term (unlike playing) and apparently includes putting on a muscle shirt and other odds and ends from your friend's basement and walking around the neighborhood with empty grocery bags and knocking on the doors of a few neighbors who happen to give you candy. This sounded a lot like Trick-or-Treating to me, but Jordan assured me that they were really looking for Spook-Alleys and Haunted Houses and such, but couldn't find any. Ironically, they was a Spook Alley right across the street from our house, but for some reason Jordan and his friends opted to avoid our street. Oh, and some how he ended up with more candy than Katie.

Of course, since it was Halloween and since Jordan didn't go Trick-or-Treating, all the candy he brought home was put into the family candy jar. Which, as Princess Aurora was quick to point out, was the only fair thing to do.  The boot and the robes agreed, and Jordan was out-voted.  Another win-win.

Since Halloween is now over...Happy Thanksgiving. Here's to hoping it is a quieter, more peaceful holiday. I'm not up for another Halloween.

Ice Cream Heaven

For the first time ever, we decided to go as a family to the Utah State Fair last night. They had a high-diving show; high-priced, high-fat food; garden oddities; a large array of farm animals and animal smells; and best of all, ice cream heaven. They didn’t call it ice cream heaven, they called it the ‘Utah Diary Farmer’s Association & Ice Cream Something-or-other Group’s Something, Something Ice Cream Something” (or something like that). It was all you can eat ice cream for $3 (only $2 for 12 and under); with Russell’s ice cream, Farr Better ice cream, Creamies, Fatboys, and (dum-dum-da-dah) Aggie ice cream. They had two long tables full of toppings from chocolate and caramel sauce to peanuts and sprinkles. I had six scoops of Aggie ice cream and a Fatboy, (and I didn’t need no stinking toppings). It was ice cream heaven. I was disappointed in myself that I couldn’t manage a return visit to sample some of the other ice cream varieties and flavors, or at least take a Creamie to go. But it was not to be. It was just a fleeting glimpse of the rewards awaiting the most righteous in the hereafter.

Jack Handey once said, "When you die, if you get a choice between going to regular heaven or pie heaven, choose pie heaven. It might be a trick, but if it's not, mmmmmmmm, boy." I’m choosing ice cream heaven. Every time.

Farewell to the Fountain

My office has been move to the second floor, where my window mirror and fountain view have been replaced with a lovely view of the Wasatch Mountains. But before I moved, the fountain decided to host a final, bravura performance.

I was in the midst of a discussion with a co-worker when she looked over my shoulder out the window and asked, “What is going on?” There was some sort of commotion on the street involving police sirens, like an orchestral overture had started to signal the raising of the curtains. As if on queue, a longer haired man with a backpack came sprinting from stage right, tossed his backpack from his should, and leapt several feet into the air and came down on his side into the fountain. There was an audible clunk as he hit bottom followed by a rattling shockwave on the window. There was a long pause. His backpack lay on the ground against the fountain directly in front of my window.

“Is he hurt? Or is he stoned?” I asked. My co-worker shrugged.

We stood on our tip-toes and craned our necks to try to see down into the fountain. I could barely see the man’s upper torso as he glided about the fountain on his back, occasionally spewing water from his mouth as if it were a blow hole.

“Stoned,” we both intoned in unison.

Before we could puzzle out the plot further, we heard the wail of a motorcycle cop headed toward the fountain.  The swimmer heard it too and immediately siddled up against the edge of the fountain wall. It was like a toddler was playing hide and seek. Perhaps if he had closed his eyes, it would have been more effective. In short order, he was out of the fountain, on his stomach in handcuffs.

By this time, several other co-workers had joined the premium seating along my window. The motorcycle cop was followed by the police cruiser, and then an ambulance. We speculated whether it was the swan dive into the fountain or the drugs in his system that prompted the ambulance and agreed it was likely the former.

In the end, another long-haired man in cuffs sat in the background on a grassy mound watching his presumed accomplice surrounded by a chorus line of cops and paramedics. The drama continued to unfold for the next few hours.  I had the opportunity to re-count the plot points from the first act for many late comers for much of the morning.

The fountain really out did itself for this farewell production. I almost didn’t want to move.

Almost.

Decision 2012

With the political conventions looming, I have started to give a great deal of thought to which candidate was most worthy of my vote.  After much consideration, I have come to a shocking conclusion: Mitt Romney and I have a lot in common:

• Mitt Romney has children. I have children.

• Mitt Romney is a millionaire. I have played the “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” board game.

• Mitt was the governor of Massachusetts. I know how to spell Massachusetts.

• Mitt has changed his mind on certain issues, or flip-flopped. I have worn flip-flops.

• Mitt Romney founded and ran Bain Capital. I have worked at a company that has also been a bane at times.

• Mitt Romney saved the Salt Lake Olympics. I watched them on TV.

• Mitt Romney hasn’t released his taxes to the public. I haven’t released my taxes to the public.

• Mitt has great hair. I have hair.

With so much in common, it shouldn’t take me too long to decide.

Rule #1...

It’s time again for scout camp. This year’s edition is at Bear Lake Aquatics Base, which claims to have only two rules. Rule #1: Don’t Do Anything Stupid. The problem is, all 12 to 13 year-old scouts lack the stupidity gauge that some adults acquire as they mature. This makes compliance with Rule #1 very difficult. That’s why there is the Rule #2: see Rule #1. Scouts can’t really remember more than one rule anyway, so making them the same increases the chances that they will remember at least one of them. Fortunately, campfires are banned this year, so we won’t have a repeat of the “throw the bug spray canister into the fire and see what happens” or the “there is only 18 inches between these two tents, let’s start a fire there” incidents. We are still open for the sunscreen and pocket-knife related incidents, though.

On a related topic (stupid, but not that kind of stupid): what is it with scouts and flatulence? I called Julie on the drive up to camp to verify the directions from Evanston to Laketown, and the conversation went something like this:

Julie: What is that noise in the background?

Me: You don’t want to know.

Julie: That’s disgusting.

Me: Yes, yes it is.

Julie: Why don’t you tell them it’s disgusting?

Me: That would only encourage them.

Julie: Can’t you ask them to stop?

Me: That would only encourage them.

I head back up tonight for two more days. I am undoubtedly breaking Rule #1 by going, but hopefully, it’s not that kind of stupid either.

Lost in Thought

Have you ever been heading somewhere, very purposefully, only to find yourself lost in thought?  I mean really lost in thought, like "wait, why I am in the break room staring at the coffee pot" lost.  I mean, "I'll pretend to be going to a co-worker's desk to raid the candy dish" lost?  I mean so lost that even after chatting with said co-worker about her adopted grandchildren's experience at football camp for ten minutes, you are forced to return to your desk to try to reconstruct what you were doing when you left your desk in the first place, only to get lost in the same thoughts as before?

I never get that lost.  But if I did, it would surely be a sign of a very deep, very profound thinker.

(Oh, I remember, I need more paper clips from the supply closet.)

The Eagle Has Landed

For those who hadn't heard, Jordan earned his Eagle Scout award and received it at a Court of Honor held tonight.  Julie went all out for refreshments (yes, those are coconut covered marshmallows on Oreo cookies).  For those who missed it, I have attached the slide show from the evening's program, so that you too can suffer.  Hopefully it works, if not the highlights included Jordan as Captain Underpants (uses Princess patterns no less) and in various other embarrassing costumes.

Congrats Jordan!

Quality Time

With the older two children safely (?) off at camp and Julie running off to help at Girl's camp for the day, I had the opportunity to spend quality one-on-one time with the youngest.  This started with her reading Mad-Libs to me while I found something to eat for dinner.  (She had already had something to eat at Grandma's.)  While we picked strawberries in the garden, she explained her dislike for grasshoppers (they have creepy eyes) and spiders (some are large and poisonous, and Grandma is afraid of spiders and there was this movie that her friend had seen...).  She also explained how she and her siblings had "discussions" about whether or not some strawberries were ready to pick or not.  (Julie ended the discussion by determining the "white part" microscopic and that the berry was in fact ripe enough for picking.)  This was followed by a dissertation on animal cruelty supported by a recitation of key plot points from Black Beauty.

When we finished picking berries, we went inside to sweep the floor.  While I manned the broom, she explained how she would have shared her Reese's peanut butter cups with me, but she only had two.  And "they are sacred."  We then took turns doing Mad-Libs as I tidied up the kitchen and made popcorn.  Based on her reaction, the best Mad-lib involved Taylor Swift stealing my fecal matter. Then we took the popcorn, two cans of Shasta Root Beer, two Red Vines licorice straws, and a blanket to the basement where we watched a Harry Potter movie.

We both agreed that everyone else should go to camp more often.

(I had to buy some Reese's peanut butter cups today.  If I only have two left, I won't be sharing, either.  I feel the same way: they are sacred.)

Out of Order Thoughts

1) I'm grateful for Google's new blogging statistics.  I now know how pointless it is for me to blog.

2) Watching one child prepare for girl's camp and another prepare for high adventure camp, I was reminded again of the difference between boys and girls.  One printed a checklist of items, carefully gathered each item two days in advance, made sure everything was labeled, and kept asking questions in the form of declarative statements: see how this shirt matches the scrubs we made.  The other spent time thinking about packing while playing video games, cramming random items into his school backpack, and repeatedly said things like, "uh" or "ugh" to questions like, did you go through the checklist? and don't you think you should use the backpacking pack instead?  We also got an "oh" when asked if he thought about things like a flashlight or toothbrush.  (For those fluent in "grunt," my response to all of this child's camping preparations was "hmmm.")

3) On our last family visit to the library, a stumbled upon a DVD of what I declared to be the Worst Cartoon Ever: Gem and the Holograms.  Julie agreed it was terrible, but thought it was no worse than G.I. Joe.  I responded that while G.I. Joe wasn't great, it wasn't the worst.  I mean the lasers never hit anything, the plots never changed, and knowing was half the battle.  I then conceded that it was a legitimate candidate.  We then discussed the lack of any merit and value to Thunder Cats (Snarf?!), Voltron and several others before Julie struck a nerve:

Julie: "..and then there's G-Force (Battle of the Planets)."

Me: "No, you can't even mention G-Force is this conversation.  It has too much pure awesomeness.  It was one of the first Japanese anime cartoons.  Any friend or relative of any member of G-Force introduced at the beginning of the episode would be dead by the end. Mark, Jason, Princess, Tiny & Kee-ops all had cool vehicles.  There is far to much, muchness and awesomeness for G-Force to even be in this conversation." 

Julie: "I always wanted to be Jason 'cause he had the cool race car." 

Me: "He was the rebel." 

Julie: "Yah.  I always had to be Princess." 

That settled it.  G-Force is not on this list. Care Bears, Rainbow Brite, Calliou - all are worthy contenders, but G-Force is too awesome.