Man In The Moon

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle is a manifestation of the Observer Effect. The idea is that the act of observation will create changes in the phenomenon being observed. This is already starting to happen to me because of this blog. Let me explain:

The other night as I was sitting behind my wife waiting for her to finish something on the computer so I could get back to it, I got a little bored. I picked up a nearby hair band and started aiming it at the back of her head as if I were going to fire it at her. I know, it’s stupid. My daughter saw me and immediately said, “You are going to slip and have a whole new post to write for your blog.” See what I mean?

Now that I’ve written about a few embarrassing events here, my family has decided to “help me” by giving me ideas for new material. It’s now become their favorite pastime to dredge up every single embarrassing event they can think of and then laugh about it to no end.

• “Remember the time dad was riding the grocery basket out of the store and flipped the whole thing over in the parking lot and we hid from him while he had to pick it all back up in front of everyone?”
• “Remember the time his crown fell out at the swimming pool and he was diving around looking for it and that kid had to help him find his tooth so he could go home and superglue it back into place?”
• “Remember that time we got lost in San Francisco for four hours and finally had to force dad to get directions from the guy at the gas station and it turned out that the guy didn’t speak English?”

Believe me, there’s a lot more, but you get the idea. The very act of writing this blog has changed various aspects of my life. Knowing that nearly any given situation might become the subject of a blog post here makes everyone–myself included–think more about what we say and do. There’s less natural reaction–if that makes any sense at all–and more thought-out reactions. I wonder if this happens to comedians as well.

It creates a kind of unreal home-life wherein everyone seems to be waiting for someone else to do something.  It’s like a game of Jenga where each person tries to pull out the block that will make the next person mess up.  I’m not complaining, mind you.  It just takes some getting used to.

Blogging about my life accomplishes several things for me:

• It relaxes me and puts me in a good mood.
• It allows me to look at things from a different perspective.
• It forces me to see the humor in almost any situation.
• It gives me new people to talk with.
• etc., etc., etc.

By the way,  I want to say a special thank you to all of you that are still coming here even though I haven’t posted anything for the last ten days.  Another recent change in my life is that I got a brand new client with a huge web project that’s taken a lot of my time.  I will really try to make sure that I don’t let those kinds of gaps happen here any more.  It’s that whole real-life thing that I mentioned previously. Now, if you’ve read all the way down here, then you get to know that I have a few videos that I’m working on for some upcoming posts.  One of them will actually show me–just in case you were ever curious about what I look like.  So, stay with me, and I’ll make up for my absence.

Lesson Learned:

If you don’t blog new stuff regularly, people stop coming.

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So, I’m sitting here on the computer trying to catch up with some other work (since I do have a life outside this blog) when my wife opens the door and asks me what I think.

“About what?” I ask as I’m looking up. Then I see her face. “What happened?” I ask immediately. “Why have you been crying? Did someone get hurt?”

At this point in time, I have no idea what’s going on. She just turns bright red, gets seething angry, and walks out shutting the door behind her. I’m completely clueless (as usual) and follow her out thinking that someone has died and she can’t bring herself to even say it.

As she goes into the bathroom loudly locking the door behind her, I’m standing in the living room like an idiot counting my children to make sure they’re all still there. I’m about to go ask her what’s going on when my daughter chimes in and tells me that she was trying out a new eye makeup method she found on Pursebuzz.

For those of you that have never heard of it, Pursebuzz is a makeup and cosmetics advice site loaded with YouTube videos explaining how to do all sorts of beauty-related stuff. It’s run by a young, Asian girl who seemingly has no end of enthusiasm for her chosen subject. My wife and oldest daughters love it. They try to show me the stuff, but it’s like watching someone putting pin-striping on a Ferrari; you just sit there wondering why.

Anyway, I now face the onerous task of making up for my lack of perception–not an unusual circumstance for me. Apparently, I was supposed to be impressed by how strikingly beautiful her eyes were after applying this new method.  I was NOT (under any circumstances) supposed to think that she’d been crying.

You’d think that after all these years, I would be exceptionally good at this–or exceptionally good at preventing this from happening–but no. I’m still completely in the dark as to how these things happen and what to do about them. Any ideas out there?

Lesson Learned:

Keep your mouth shut until you know all the facts.

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I have to apologize for my absence the last few days. Believe it or not, it has to do with the snow again–only this time for an entirely different reason. If you look at the picture of the front of my house that I’ve included with this post, then you’ll see my front steps. Those steps tried to eat me. Let me explain:

When I arrived home a few nights ago, I was climbing those steps and took a bad fall. It seems that nature played a little trick on me and hid some ice under that snow. I was about to take the very last step to the top when the whole world suddenly flipped over.

From what I can tell and put together from memory, it seems that both my feet suddenly slid forward through the back of the steps while all of the rest of me flipped over backwards. There I was hanging backwards on the steps with all my weight torquing both feet up under the top step and wedging them in place while I’m screaming bellowing in pain.

By all rights, I should have broken both ankles and at least one arm and possibly my neck while cracking my skull open. Instead, I have two spranged ankles, and my left knee is twisted up and hurting pretty bad. Amazingly, though, nothing’s broken. Obviously, I won’t be walking for a while.

Of all the things I’m most thankful for after surviving that, I’m especially grateful to my closest neighbor. It just so happens that he’s a volunteer firefighter, local EMT, and ambulance driver. He heard me scream cry out and came to my rescue. My wife and daughter couldn’t get me up off the stairs. With his help, I managed to get inside out of the freezing snow and get my legs up. As embarrassing it felt at the time, I can’t imagine how long I would have been stuck out there without his help.

After a quick checkover and my repeated insistence that nothing was broken except my dignity, I was left on the couch to hurt and try and recover. That’s when I suddenly remembered the reason I had been in such a hurry. (Yep, you guessed it.) I needed to go to the bathroom…really bad. I was fifteen feet away and had no chance to make it alone. It required the assistance of both my wife and my oldest daughter to get me in there.

It was an extremely painful experience just getting there and getting myself into a position that allowed me to do what I had to do. However, it seems that once I had finished the necessities that had driven me there, I made a horrible discovery. I wish that I could say that it was something manly like a broken bone or blood gushing out of my leg or something like that. But no…not me. Instead, I discovered that my underwear which had fallen down around my ankles was now far beyond my reach. Anything that required me to bend my legs or body was out of the question.

At this point I began doing what any man in such a situation would do–I mean besides whining–I tried to figure out exactly how my wife was going to use this circumstance against me when I called her in for help. I mean, you gotta figure that I was going to be offering her carte blanche rights to cause me extreme humiliation–and possibly even pain. So I ran through the list:

“Now, let me see, is she currently mad at me? Not that I know of. Okay, not very reassuring.

Is she currently on her period? God help me!!! But, no, I’m okay there.

Is she currently angry at children or anyone else that might result in spillover anger directed at me? Not that I know of. Okay, again, not very reassuring.” At this point in my musings, I was seriously considering calling an ambulance for help, but I kept on.

“Let’s see, have I told her I love her today. Yes. Oh, good, that’s good.

Have I said it more than once? Yes. Oh, very good.

Have I told her she’s beautiful today? Yes. Excellent!

Have I told her more than once? No. Oh, crap. Too late now.” By this time, my legs were thumping, my hands were starting to shake, and I was in extreme pain. I had no choice anymore. I had to call her in to help me.

“Honey, can you come in here?”

Immediately, I heard my daughter in the living room burst out laughing and my wife comes up outside the bathroom door and answers me in an uncharacteristically super-sweet voice, “Yes, dear.”

Oh, God, they know!

To make a long story short–if it’s not too late for that already–she helped me and got me out of there and into bed. Anyway, it’s been a long and embarrassing trip (no pun intended) from that top step the other day to posting this today. I hope that this message finds you in better condition. Take care, and be careful out there.

Lesson Learned:

A few compliments a day goes a heck of a long way.

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I have, in the course of writing this blog, mentioned a couple of things that I had realized after the fact were probably not the smartest things to have said to my wife. It seems that I always have to learn these things the hard way. Isn’t hindsight wonderful?

Along those lines, I have to add the following video that was brought to my attention by Insanity Kim. I had never heard of Tim Hawkins before, but now I’m a fan. Watch this and you’ll know why:

Please feel free to comment and add your own additions to that list.

Lesson Learned:

Think first, speak later.

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If you’re reading this, then my message has managed to get out.  Please, I need your help.  I don’t have much time.  Listen carefully, I’m an American citizen and my libido is being held against my will.  I know you scoff at this, but you have to understand the seriousness of the matter.

I can hardly believe that it all started just yesterday.  It seems like such a long time ago now.  Let me relate the events to you as quickly as I can:

It began normally enough, having just arrived home from a family get-together.  I was standing in the kitchen when I began to notice a change in my wife’s behavior.  I had the distinctive feeling of a cold, icy stare drilling into the back of my head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked without turning.

Dead silence.  I turned to face the onslaught that I sensed was coming.  There she was…giving me “that look”…the really bad one.

“What’s wrong?” I repeated.

“You know what’s wrong.”

I didn’t, but that’s how it all began.  If only I’d known then what was coming, maybe things would have turned out differently.  I don’t know.  Maybe I would have had a chance.

Interjection

I want to know why we grant criminals more rights than we’re willing to give ourselves.  Why do criminals get a Miranda Warning that married men are not allowed.  I want it added to the marriage ceremony right after the “richer, poorer, sickness, health” bit and before the “death do us part” bit.  I want to see a decorated police officer step out, grab the groom by the collar, look him straight in the eye, and say the following:

You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can and will be used against you…not in a court of law, mind you, but wherever she deems it necessary to bring it up and however long she wants to talk about it. You will wish to God Himself that you had the right to have an attorney present during questioning, but you won’t, buddy!  You’re on your own.  You have no further recourse after this day.  Do you understand these rights?  Are you still stupid enough to go through with this?

This should be followed by a great deal of slapping, but it isn’t. This doesn’t happen. Heck no.  We’re just pushed out there like lambs to the slaughter.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch…

It took me a while to get to the heart of what was going on with my wife.  It apparently had to do with a certain cousin of hers that had been at this family gathering

“Pearl???  You have a cousin named Pearl??  Who has a name like Pearl anymore?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about?  I saw you staring at her.”

“I stared at someone named Pearl?  C’mon, I didn’t have that much to drink.”

“Yes, you stared at her.  Remember, the one with the red sweater.”

“Oh, wait, you mean the one that looked like she fell in a peroxide vat?”

“Don’t even try to act like you were looking at her hair.  I saw you.  You were ogling her.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.  I wasn’t ogling her.  I was laughing at her.  Did you see her chest?”  (Remind me to add this to my list of things to never say to my wife.)

“So you admit it?!?  I can’t believe you!”

“C’mon, I wasn’t looking at her chest like that.  That girl has so much silicone that she could be classified as a flotation device.  I was laughing at her.”

“Forget it.  I don’t know why I even try to talk to you.”

“You call this talking?”  (Definitely another addition to the list.)

“Just leave me alone.”

“But I thought you wanted to forget it?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you taking your pillow and the blanket to the couch?”

“Because I want to lay down and watch TV?”

“But it’s 12:30 at night.  Can’t we just go to bed?”

“You can do anything you want.  You’ve already proven that!”

“Proven what?  I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Well, now you have time to think about it, don’t you?”

And there it was.  My night was shot.  Now I’m sitting here in my bedroom turned prison cell.  Where are the rules of evidence?  What about due process?  How does one person become accuser, prosecutor, judge, jury, and executioner?  Where are my rights? Where’s Perry Mason when you need him?  What about the constitution?  Someone call my congressman.

Why do convicted prisoners get to file numerous appeals against airtight cases while married men get absolutely no appeal whatsoever?  Where did we go wrong as a society?  Someone, somewhere, please do something.  Please help me.  Please.  I’m begging you. No, don’t leave me here!  HELP!!!  Please.

Lesson Learned:

In the immortal words of that great thinker of our time, Benny Hill, “Put a ring upon her finger and a rope around your neck.”

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