The Price for a Weekend Alone

It was a memorable Memorial Day weekend. Several weeks ago, my in-laws decided they were going to take another trip to see my sister-in-law, and they asked us if they could take the girls with them. COOL! They also asked if we would watch Rex for the four days they'd be gone. CRAP! Kidding. Watching Rex is a small price to pay for a long weekend alone with my honey.

On Sunday, Diane treated the two of us with massages, using the remainder of a gift certificate she received. Diane went with a sixty-minute hot stone massage and a face brightening facial while I indulged in the ninety-minute signature massage, and it was awesome. It sounds crazy, but a sixty-minute massage goes by too quickly. Needless to say, we left the spa feeling happy and shiny. We spent the rest of the weekend utilizing the grill, resting, catching up on some videos, and doing a little house/yardwork. Oh yeah, and watching Rex.

Sunday night, we let Rex out so he could do his busy work, and after a couple of minutes I heard Diane cry, "Oh crap...the sprinklers are on!" I rushed to the window to find that the sprinklers, indeed, were on, and that a thoroughly soaked Golden Retriever was frolicking in the midst of them like a swimsuit clad ten year-old on a hot summer day. I grabbed the video camera and captured the video you see below. It was quite the sight.

All in all, Rex was a good boy. It sounds like the girls had a good time with their Aunt, and I'm excited to have them home tonight. We'll see how long that excitement lasts because I'll spend the next six weeks trying to keep them entertained during their summer vacation.

The Master's Dealings with the General Public

One of the things I absolutely hate about my job is dealing with viewer calls. I should feel sorry for people who call television stations to complain about stupid crap, because they clearly don't have lives, but I don't. They are annoying and I would rather drink a bucket of monkey snot than deal with their stupidity. OK, maybe not, but you get my point.

People call in to see if their soaps are going to run in their entirety after the President gets done yapping, or to ask why their Favorite Show is a repeat today, or, the #1 phone call I get, why in the name of the Good Lord above are we broadcasting our programming in Spanish. Here in southern AZ, this is a major-league hot topic as the immigration debate sizzles on. Tucsonans are pissed enough to have to "Dial 1 for English". Can you imagine their ire when they tune in to their FAVORITE PRIME TIME PROGRAM and hear, "Oy Dios Mio! Mi lapiz es amarillo!" Let me just say they're not happy campers. 99.9% of the time, the issue is with the audio settings on their TV, and I walk them through it as best I can. I once spent fifteen minutes going 'round and 'round with a woman who was adamant it was NOT her audio settings. "Ma'am," I tried to explain, "I'm listening to the program on our Cox Cable feed and it's in English."

"Well, I'M hearing it in Spanish," she countered.

"If you would at least CHECK the audio settings on your TV..."

"It's NOT my TV," she interrupted. "I haven't TOUCHED my TV. Maybe I should call Cox Cable and see if THEY'RE having a problem."

"That's a great idea, Ma'am. Why don't you do that." Click. Problem from my end? Solved.

What annoys me the most about these calls is that I shouldn't receive half of them. These are the nut jobs who are transferred to me because no one else at the station has the balls to deal with them. Last week I was transferred a call from a viewer who "couldn't figure out our prime time schedule." He was confused because there was no continuity to it and he was missing shows because they weren't airing at the same time from week to week. My solution? Pick up a TV Guide!! They have them right there at the checkout counter of your local grocer, and, hell, they're even FREE in your local paper!

My all time favorite happened last Friday night. We were in the 5p newscast when the phone rang. I answered it and was immediately sorry that I had.

"Ummm, yeah..." Whenever the person on the other end of the line starts our little conversation with "Um, yeah", it's going to be bad. "You just aired a commercial for [such and such a place], and I noticed in the first few seconds of the commercial there's graffiti across the man's shirt, and since your station has been doing a series on graffiti, I was wondering what the significance of that was."

Silence.

Followed by uproarious laughter. I know it's not polite to laugh in someone's face, or in this case, ear, but I couldn't help it. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, I wanted to scream. Instead I laughed, "Sir, I haven't the slightest idea."

"Well then why did you air it?"

"Because the business, [such and such a place], PAID us to. That's how we make our money. Businesses pay us to air their commercials."

"Well, how am I going to figure out the significance of that graffiti?"

The significance, sir, is that you have deciphered the code from the Mother Ship, and they will be landing soon to claim you as their new leader.

"I guess you'll just have to call [such and such a place]." I figured I had done my part and that it was now my turn to start passing the buck.

"I don't think they're open until the weekend, are they?"

"I don't know, sir, you'll have to give them a call. Thank you." Click.

I then set out on a headhunting expedition for the spineless jerk who transferred that call to me.

I am SOOO asking for a raise.

Hey Now, You're an All Star

Kailey's Blue (Balls) Bandit softball season came to an end last night with a loss against their league arch-rivals, Lightning. The game was a meaningless one as Lightning already eliminated the Bandits from the playoffs. Only one team from each league can enter the city-wide playoffs, and Lightening earned that spot outright by beating the Bandits in their regular season meetings. Kailey had a good game offensively, going 2-3 at the plate with no strike outs.

The good news of the night was that Kailey's softball season was extended when we learned that she was selected for her league's All Star Team. Way to go, Kailey! So now, she'll be practicing with her All Star Team in preparation for a tournament at the end of June. And it sounds like the tournament is a pretty big deal, with opening ceremonies, special tournament programs, All Star uniforms, and All Star team support shirts, all for a price, of course. Still, it sounds like it should be an exciting time, and Kailey is pumped. I'm going to take a couple of days off from work so I can attend the whole tournament. I must be nuts. Taking time off from work to attend a softball tournament in the southern Arizona summer heat? I can't wait.

Mourning Final Mornings

Tomorrow is the last day of school and we'll be attending Kyra's kindergarten graduation in the morning. After a short summer vacation, both of our girls will be full-timers at school, and that makes me a little sad. Sure, part of me is screaming FREE TIME, which, as a homeowner, I know really isn't true, but there's another part of me that is truly going to miss spending mornings with Kyra.

There were mornings where things just had to get done: cleaning in preparation for a family visit, doctor visits, grocery runs, or the seemingly endless house calls for home repairs/services that were beyond my limited level of expertise. But most mornings I made time for Kyra where we engage in a variety of activities. We'd play board games or cards where more often than not she'd flat out kick my butt in everything we play. Or we played make believe, everything from Star Wars to princesses (I was a prince) to Lion King. We sang karaoke, Disney-style, or I'd pick up my guitar and pluck out a tune for Kyra to create her own song to. We played soccer, softball, and basketball, and when we were bored, we'd make up games, my personal favorite being roll-ball, a game that started out rolling a ball to each other but quickly turned to beaning each other. I tried to take full advantage of the limited time we had together, and as I look back on these times, I'm glad to say that I have few regrets, and I hope Kyra will feel the same way.

I thought yesterday would be my last morning with Kyra, and I wanted to make it special: take her out to breakfast or do whatever she wanted to do before going to school. Tuesday night, that plan was shot to crap with a single KABOOM! The shock rattled our whole house and Diane and I thought a car had run through our garage door. We rushed out to the garage to find nothing peculiar. I then went out the front door to investigate. Nothing. Our neighbor from across the street joined me. He heard the boom over the din of his TV, which is saying something since he is older and hard of hearing; I can sometimes hear his TV from inside our house. We looked around for a few minutes, but still found nothing until I tried to open our garage door. The opener pulled it open about an inch, then stopped. I looked up through the gap created at the top of the garage door and saw two medium-sized springs where one large spring used to reside. It had broken in two, creating the "explosion" that led to our investigation. Mystery solved. I wonder how much THIS is going to cost.

I informed my neighbor of what happened and he told me that he had his spring replaced earlier in the winter. Just another one of those joys of being a homeowner. So I spent my last morning with Kyra on the phone trying to get someone out to fix my garage door. Turns out the door won't open with a broken spring, so I was stranded with both of our vehicles stuck inside. After calling EVERY garage door place in the phone book, I finally arranged to get someone out before I had to get to work. But my original plans were thwarted. I tried to make the most of the limited time with Kyra by challenging her to a rousing game of Monopoly Junior, Disney Princess version. I was thoroughly humiliated as Kyra once again cleaned my clock. I think the game lasted all of fifteen minutes. Then the garage door guy showed up, early for a change, and freed our cars from the prison of our garage. When he finished, it was time to get Kyra to school. Not exactly the way I wanted to spend our last morning together, and I spent the rest of the day fighting a funk.

This morning, though, I caught one of the few breaks that life tosses my way. The girls spent last night at my in-laws because I was working late and Diane was in Phoenix leading training sessions. Kailey had an awards presentation at school this morning and I met up with Kyra and my in-laws for the short ceremony, then I took Kyra home for a couple of hours before taking her to school. I was so thankful to have that time and I gave her my undivided attention. She wanted to sing karaoke, so that's what we did...one hour and fifteen minutes of Disney karaoke. We spent our last morning together doing something we both love: singing our fool hearts out. It was great.

Tomorrow morning, she graduates from kindergarten, and I didn't think I'd experience the range of emotions I'm feeling. She's my baby and she's taking another step in her journey towards adulthood, and right now I'm having a hard time with that. The other night while getting ready for bed, Kyra came up to us and sang, "Start spreading the news...I'm leaving today..." Diane promptly requested for her to be quiet, an indication that she's struggling with this life transition as well. Don't get me wrong, we're extremely proud of Kyra and know that she's more than ready for the next stage of her life. We love seeing her experience new things where she succeeds and learns and grows. But for some reason, it's taking Mommy and me a little longer to get on board the grow-up express.

No Wonder I'm Going Grey

This morning as we were watching Kyra's softball game, Diane turned to me, grabbed my arm and gasped, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you..."

Diane just returned from a three-day conference in Scottsdale where she was honored as one of her company's top managers. Her company wines and dines them, books inspirational speakers, and pulls out all the stops to express their appreciation. Diane is amazing at what she does, and it's exciting for me to see her honored in this way. As she was getting her things together and preparing to leave for the conference, Kailey came into our bedroom to present a rather unusual request.

"Mommy, when you go on your trip, can you bring me back something?"

A small grin spread across Diane's face. "Don't I usually bring you and Kyra back something when I go on a trip?"

"Yes, but I was wondering if you could bring me back something different. Like something for big girls."

"Like what?" Diane wondered aloud.

"Like a poster...with a boy on it."

My jaw dropped as Diane recounted their conversation. A POSTER WITH A BOY ON IT? SHE'S EIGHT YEARS OLD? I immediately envisioned a shirtless Enrique Iglesias, his body glistening with sweat, eyeing my daughter from his perch on her wall. OK, that was probably a little too much detail, but as an overprotective dad, that's where...oh, never mind. There's no good way to explain it. Diane seemed to think it was funny. I was looking for someone to kill. Over my dead body will she EV-ER own a poster with a boy on it. What is she going to ask for next, the annual Firefighters Calendar?

Needless to say, Kailey did NOT get a poster with a boy on it. What she got instead was all of her TV viewing privileges revoked because that's the only thing I can think of that might put that cockamamie, NO, er, um, CRAZY request in her head. I need a drink. Anything to get the image of sweaty Enrique out of my head.