Attack of the Christmas Eve Vampire Zombie Children

This picture of the girls singing at a Christmas Eve service freaked me out...especially the two girls on the left. Click on the pic for the full Dawn of the Dead effect. The expression on the kid in the lower left is priceless. "Is there something behind me?"

A Tribute

I didn't know Larry, but through my in-laws, was recently introduced to his artwork, some of which greatly moved me. A few weeks ago, Larry lost his long battle with colon cancer, which brings me to my connection with him. My mother-in-law asked me on behalf of his wife to arrange a portion of his work into a slide presentation for his memorial. I've spent the better part of the past week working on the project, and it finally came to completion this morning. Diane and I found ourselves a little misty-eyed as we previewed the finished DVD, even though we'd never met the man behind the camera. So tonight, in tribute, I share a few of my favorites.

Godspeed, my friend.

Bring on the Monsoon!

It's a meteorologist's wet dream: the monsoon. The rainy season finally hit Tucson with a fury last week, and as a result, we've been cutting in to your favorite TV programming to bring you "Breaking Severe Weather Updates" and covering up the bottom quarter of your TV screen with that annoying weather crawl telling you to stay indoors. Duh. Sorry about that. The truth of the matter is that during the monsoon, we can pretty much expect that severe weather is on its way, every day. Go drive in it at your own risk.

I have to laugh at the whole thing. I grew up in the Midwest, which, when I think about it, had the most eclectic mix of weather. In the summertime, we could have a calm shower followed by a raging thunderstorm accompanied by tornadoes. I spent many summer evenings in my basement as a kid, listening to the weather radio and praying to God for the expiration of the current tornado warning. Ah, those were GOOD times. Then winter could bring a gentle snowfall, or it could blind you with near blizzard conditions, sleet, and freezing rain (which IS different than sleet). In the Midwest, you never quite knew what you were going to get when the clouds began to build, therefore making it prudent to pay attention to the various weather cut-ins and crawls displayed on the TV or broadcast on the radio.

Here in the desert Southwest, everything is extreme and my motto since taking up residence here has become "Everything can kill you". From the piercing desert sun to that spiky plant to that seemingly cute and fluffy animal, everything can rip your face right off. Wildlife and vegetation struggle to adapt in the severe desert conditions from the brutality of the desert sun to the brutality of desert storms, and I'm not talking about the liberation of Kuwait. There is no such thing as a "gentle summer rain" here in the desert. Showers are nearly always accompanied by high winds, awesome lightning displays and knee-buckling crashes of thunder. So I laugh when the meteorologists at the station get all hopped up about severe weather because weather here is ALWAYS severe. If you look up in the sky and see cloud formations heading your way, seek shelter because you're in for a storm!

And what cracks me up is that whenever it starts to rain, everyone (me included) runs to the windows or doors to watch. We're so used to sunshine that it's a novelty to see it rain. And blow. And storm. I love the monsoon. It's new, different, exciting, and a little dangerous. So please excuse all the programming interruptions. Our meteorologists are just a little excited to get to report on something different than sunshine and intense heat, and rightfully so. In another month we'll return you to your regularly scheduled programming...without interruption.

Rainbow's Revenge

I think Rainbow is out to get us.

As you may recall, Rainbow was the girls' pet Beta fish that bought the farm back in November. We "cleverly" replaced him with a new fish, Rainbow II, in order to spare our precious daughters the grief of losing a beloved pet. Our plan is backfiring and I'm beginning to get more than a little freaked by an animal that is smaller than my thumb.

There are two possibilities here: either Rainbow II is merely a psycho fish from hell, or he is posessed by the spirit of Rainbow I, who is out for revenge. I'm becoming increasingly convinced toward the latter.

At first it was cute. I would open the lid to his bowl and he would swim to the surface in anticipation of the rock-hard pellet they call Beta food that was about to be dropped into the water. I put my fingers just above the surface and Rainbow II swam right up to them. Then one day, he jumped. Right out of the water. Right off my fingertips. Scared the hell out of me. I think I screamed. On second thought, I'm sure I didn't scream. Now Rainbow II's mouth is roughly half the size of a BB, and I'm fairly certain that it couldn't inflict THAT much damage, but I really think he was trying to eat me.

I know, I know...you think I'm crazy. But it's not just me he's trying to eat. Last week I heard a scream and I ran into the kitchen. Kailey stood next to Rainbow II's bowl holding her hand, a frantic look on her face. "Rainbow bit me," she breathed. That's not all. A couple of days ago, Diane opened the bowl to feed him and as she reached down, he jumped out of the bowl! Yes, you heard me...the little sucker got a running, er, swimming head start and launched himself right out of that frickin' bowl! Diane stood there stunned as she watched him flop around on the counter top. She should have stabbed him through his cold, evil demon-heart with a toothpick, but instead returned him to the comfort of his lair.

I don't know what to do. My logic tells me that he is too small to harm any of us, but anyone who has ever seen any of the Child's Play movies also knows that a little doll shouldn't have been able to go on a murderous rampage either. I'm thinking about flushing him, but then I'd never be able to take a crap in peace again.

I honestly don't think he can be killed. I mean anything that I can think of doing to him is accompanied by a thought of how he can get out of it. I could bury him, but then like Carrie, he would him dig himself out, grabbing me by the ankle with his little flipper as I visit his gravesite. I could drown him...oh, wait, he's a fish. I could step on him, shoot him, blow him up, throw him off a cliff, decapitate him, feed him to birds, any number of things, but no matter what I do to him, I am certain that one day I'd find him in a sink or toilet bowl waiting to get his revenge.

So for now I think I'll lay low, keep an ear open for squishy noises in the hallway, and feed him ALOT. I knew we should have bought a new bowl.

Saying Goodbye

This Christmas season has been a tough one. A week before Christmas, my Grandpa lost his three-year battle with cancer. I've spent the past several weeks sorting through thoughts and emotions, trying to decide the best way to pay tribute to an extraordinary man whom I admired greatly.

My Grandpa was a man of uncompromised honesty and integrity. People loved him and wanted to be around him because he made everyone feel valued and important. He was a tireless innovator and was relentless in his pursuit to see his dreams come true. At his visitation and funeral, I was amazed to see and meet so many people whose lives he impacted. It made me immensely proud to be a part of his legacy. It also inspires me to be a better man: to embrace hard work; to value family and people above everything; to never give up on my dreams.

I had the opportunity to see him shortly before he passed away, to say my goodbyes, to tell him that I loved him, and to hear him say that he loved me. It was hard to see him in the condition he was in, but I will treasure that moment for the rest of my life. In that moment, it was just him and me saying the words that matter most.

For now, it's goodbye. Grandpa, you will not soon or easily be forgotten.

The Day Rainbow Died

I learned something new yesterday: fish don't necessarily float when they die.

I should have known something was up. A couple of days ago, the girls were freaking out because they thought Rainbow, their blue and red male Beta, was spending a little too much time at the bottom of the bowl. This is not unusual behavior for Betas. They lead pretty uneventful lives (unless you put two males together) and their little fins must get tired from hovering in one spot, so they take a little rest on the rocks. Kailey watched Rainbow as he "rested" and grew concerned that he wasn't just "resting", so she shook the bowl. To her relief, he zipped to the cover of the fake green plant suckered to the bottom of the bowl. She told me she was concerned about Rainbow's health and I told her not to worry. "You'll know when Rainbow dies, because fish float when they die." Little did I know that my words would later serve to save my butt.

Well, Kailey must have taken those words to heart, but they still didn't completely alleviate her fears about Rainbow. As Diane tucked her into bed last night, Kailey asked her to go check on him. I was in Kyra's room telling her a story when Diane walked in, usually the cue for us to switch rooms. She grabbed me and gave me a hug as I headed into Kailey's room. "Oooo...me likey," I thought as she whispered in my ear. But what she whispered in my ear puzzled me. If she's trying to get me into bed, this clearly was not working. I pulled away from her and shared my puzzled look. "What?" I muttered. She pulled me close and whispered again.

"Rainbow's dead."

I sighed and headed to the family room to see for myself. I saw the bowl across the room and immediately scanned the surface for Rainbow's body. I didn't see it. As I drew closer, I could see his little body resting on the rocks. I shook the bowl and he tipped over on his side. He wasn't looking so good. Crap. What are we going to tell the girls?

I returned to Kailey's room and tucked her in, then Diane and I put our heads together to figure out what to do. Problem #1: school. We didn't want to inform the girls of the death of their first pet before bedtime or before Kailey went to school in the morning. We didn't want her to be blubbering at school all day long. Problem #2: we would both be at work after the girls finished school, so we couldn't tell them then, either. Furthermore, we didn't want to tell them and then have to pass any post-mortem grief counseling on to Diane's parents, who would be watching them.

OK, maybe we're horrible parents, but this is the best we could come up with. And if there was ever any doubt about where I'll be heading upon my earthly demise, this may serve to clear things up a bit. We left Rainbow in the bowl. If the girls happened to notice his rotting carcass on the bottom of the bowl, then we would deal with the aftermath. If they didn't notice him, then Diane would drop Kyra off at school and make a beeline to the pet store to get another Rainbow. I know, I know...express lane to hell.

Well, the girls must not have been all that concerned about Rainbow because neither of them bothered to check on him. So we executed plan B, full speed ahead. Diane picked out a new fish and I disposed of the evidence. As I cleaned out his bowl I couldn't help but think of all the good times we had: the Pavlovian way he would come to the surface for food whenever I opened the lid to the bowl; the way he liked to lay in the blue rocks lining the bottom; the way he, um, well, that's pretty much it. There wasn't too much more to his life. I'd like to think that he's now in a better place, but I know better, since I wrapped his body in a paper towel and flushed him down the toilet. I can only hope that all pipes really do lead to the sea. Sorry buddy.

Diane returned home with Rainbow II (Electric Boogaloo) and we introduced him to his new home. He's much more active than Rainbow was, and that's not just because he happens to be alive. Like I've said earlier, Rainbow liked to lie around a lot.

Diane later discovered that at some point before bedtime on that fateful evening, Kailey apparently shook the bowl and got no response from Rainbow, which prompted her to ask Diane to check on him. Now I don't know this for sure, but I think that since Kailey saw Rainbow on the bottom of the bowl, not floating, she didn't believe he was dead. So, in essence, my ignorance bought enough time for us to perpetuate a lie to our children. Merry Christmas. The girls are SO going to need therapy. That's OK. They can join me. Maybe we'll get a group rate.