Yesterday upon the stair
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today
I wish that man would go away.
--William Hughes Mearns
The man who isn't there may be in cohoots with the Zizzer Zauzzer Zuzz and the Tweedle Beatles. He never looks all that suspicious, and anyone who never look suspicious must be up to something. He openly ignores me to the point that I know he must be spying on me. I just know it. Of course, I have no proof, so I can not come right out and do something to him. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Yes, I usually meet him on stairs, but sometimes I'll be walking down the street (on the lookout for tweedle beetles) and I'll get this feeling that no one is watching me. It has to be the man who isn't there. Who else wouldn't be watching me?
Of course I still don't know for sure that the ZZZ is actually conspiring against me. I got an email from my sister not too long ago. My sister is the only person in the world who actually reads my blog. She often (well often compared to anyone else ... including the man who isn't there) emails me about my blogs. In the email she told me that her sons had been talking about the Zizzer Zauzer Zuzz lately and that she also was a bit suspicious about him. Well, that tends to validate my suspicions, but still I have no proof. It would, obviously, make lots of sense if the man who isn't there was working with the ZZZ by doing surveillance. Who knows how far the network of deceit goes?
It is also pretty obvious that if the man who isn't there is spying on me, he is also probably working with the Tweedle Beetles. They just work too much alike for it to be a coinincidence. So, if the ZZZ is in fact working with the man who isn't there, and if the man who isn't there is in fact working with the Tweedle Beetles, obviously, the ZZZ and the Tweedle Beetles are working together against me as well. This man... this missing piece of the puzzle (until the other day) is the single most concrete piece of evidence I have of this mass conspiracy.
I have to act quickly. I must do something. I have to protect myself from this syndicate of evil - doers. But what are they up to? What can I do to protect myself? What can I do to go on the offensive?
I don't know. Maybe I'll go to work.
Everyone be careful out there!
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Vegas
I don't understand why anyone would want to live in Las Vegas.
My in-laws live here, and say they like it, but they also talk about hating the summer heat.
And that is my main complaint about this hell-on-earth: it is too damn hot! It is too damn hot. There are too many people. The pollution is horrible.
But mostly, it is too damn hot.
It is hot to the point that you want to stay in all day. I hate it.
Luckily, my in-laws have a pool. My guess is that anyone who can afford it has one out here. The pool has been fun for my kids and their cousins. Me too I guess. And, although I complain to my wife about having to do this stupid family reunion every two years, I really do enjoy seeing Tyler's and Connor's Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins. Despite the fact that this is the place in the country that I think most resembles hell, I had a good time here.
My in-laws live here, and say they like it, but they also talk about hating the summer heat.
And that is my main complaint about this hell-on-earth: it is too damn hot! It is too damn hot. There are too many people. The pollution is horrible.
But mostly, it is too damn hot.
It is hot to the point that you want to stay in all day. I hate it.
Luckily, my in-laws have a pool. My guess is that anyone who can afford it has one out here. The pool has been fun for my kids and their cousins. Me too I guess. And, although I complain to my wife about having to do this stupid family reunion every two years, I really do enjoy seeing Tyler's and Connor's Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins. Despite the fact that this is the place in the country that I think most resembles hell, I had a good time here.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz
The Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz is a pleasant enough looking creature. He is always personable and polite and kind. But, for some reason I just don't trust him. I think maybe he is conspiring against me. He might be working in conjunction with the Tweedle Beatles. Or he might be working with the scarecrow people. I don't really know. All I really know is that I get this feeling that ZZZ is not totally honest with me. And my imagination carries me to the conclusion that not only is he not completely honest, but he is somehow actively trying to ruin my life.
The real problem is that I have no proof, and I really want to give him the benefit of the doubt. There are others in my life whom I trust who think the ZZZ is wonderful. But I just can not shake this feeling that he is trying to screw me. So, while I recognize that there are certain advantages to knowing and partnering with the ZZZ, I can not bring myself to completely take advantage of such a partnership.
Since I met the ZZZ, my life has taken a few very interesting twists. Partially, some might even say primary, thanks to the ZZZ, I am now able to breath under water and I am able to fly short distances through the air. You would think that those sort of powers would be extremely useful and that you could really do some great things with these particular super powers, but amazingly enough, I have not really found myself in situations where breathing under water or flying like superman really do me that much good. I know it sounds weird, but these have just not turned out to be that useful to me.
And while I fell that I should be thankful to the ZZZ for helping me develop these powers, the reality is that since I don't completely trust him, I feel more anger towards him than gratitude. If he is what he appears to be, this irrational distrust is unhealthy, and really is closing opportunities to me that would open wonder possibilities to me.
Who knows what this development do to me. It is probably nothing and there is nothing to fear. If I am right, though, who knows what the Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz will do to me. I should be extremely afraid.
The real problem is that I have no proof, and I really want to give him the benefit of the doubt. There are others in my life whom I trust who think the ZZZ is wonderful. But I just can not shake this feeling that he is trying to screw me. So, while I recognize that there are certain advantages to knowing and partnering with the ZZZ, I can not bring myself to completely take advantage of such a partnership.
Since I met the ZZZ, my life has taken a few very interesting twists. Partially, some might even say primary, thanks to the ZZZ, I am now able to breath under water and I am able to fly short distances through the air. You would think that those sort of powers would be extremely useful and that you could really do some great things with these particular super powers, but amazingly enough, I have not really found myself in situations where breathing under water or flying like superman really do me that much good. I know it sounds weird, but these have just not turned out to be that useful to me.
And while I fell that I should be thankful to the ZZZ for helping me develop these powers, the reality is that since I don't completely trust him, I feel more anger towards him than gratitude. If he is what he appears to be, this irrational distrust is unhealthy, and really is closing opportunities to me that would open wonder possibilities to me.
Who knows what this development do to me. It is probably nothing and there is nothing to fear. If I am right, though, who knows what the Zizzer Zazzer Zuzz will do to me. I should be extremely afraid.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Dillon
I was up at 3:00 yesterday morning, working on various things on my computer. I was a bit bummed out because I had no campsite reserved for Memorial Day Weekend. I had just put it off until Monday or Tuesday of this week and there was nothing left. That is the problem with on-line reservations, they are just so easy to do that you have to get them in very early.
Before the kids, I would have just packed up the truck and gone off with Tracy to some remote jeep trail or even found a nice Backpacking trail, but with the kids, I feel I need a campsite reservation. So, I was a little depressed that I was going to spend the whole long weekend at home. Goodness knows I could use some time in the yard, I have a bunch of "Honey Do" things to do, but long weekends are meant to go off somewhere.
So I signed onto Priceline.com, put in $35 a night for the Breckenridge area and tried to see if I could get a good hotel price. I got rejected, but for some reason, Priceline gave me a second chance if I increased my requested price by $6, and $41 got me two nights in the Holiday Inn at Lake Dillon. For whatever reason, I can always get great prices (great compared to other mountain places to stay). So, at 6:30 or, I told Tracy to pack up for two days ... we are leaving this afternoon.
This is how most of our vacations go, I'll decide I want to get going and we go. We have little or no idea what we are going to do when we get there. We just go.
And it always turns out great. I always feel like we should have planned better, but I never have a disappointing trip like this. There are some people I know who just cannot imagine taking this kind of trip without planning every moment. I wonder how people like that are ever able to have any kind of fun. Oh well.
Before the kids, I would have just packed up the truck and gone off with Tracy to some remote jeep trail or even found a nice Backpacking trail, but with the kids, I feel I need a campsite reservation. So, I was a little depressed that I was going to spend the whole long weekend at home. Goodness knows I could use some time in the yard, I have a bunch of "Honey Do" things to do, but long weekends are meant to go off somewhere.
So I signed onto Priceline.com, put in $35 a night for the Breckenridge area and tried to see if I could get a good hotel price. I got rejected, but for some reason, Priceline gave me a second chance if I increased my requested price by $6, and $41 got me two nights in the Holiday Inn at Lake Dillon. For whatever reason, I can always get great prices (great compared to other mountain places to stay). So, at 6:30 or, I told Tracy to pack up for two days ... we are leaving this afternoon.
This is how most of our vacations go, I'll decide I want to get going and we go. We have little or no idea what we are going to do when we get there. We just go.
And it always turns out great. I always feel like we should have planned better, but I never have a disappointing trip like this. There are some people I know who just cannot imagine taking this kind of trip without planning every moment. I wonder how people like that are ever able to have any kind of fun. Oh well.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Baby Adventure
I am sitting here watching my adventurous baby. He has to be the cutest baby in the world. I know I am a little biased, but really, he has to be the cutest. In fact he is probably the cutest baby ever. I used to think that was Tyler, but I think Connor has him beat by a little bit. I am truly blessed with my children.
Connor (my adventurous baby) is crawling around the family room, pulling himself up on things (furniture and the like). This game seems to amuse him quite a bit and he keeps looking at me with the proud look on his face as if to say "look at me Daddy". And of course I tell him how wonderful he is to do such amazing things. I mean, come on, how many babies are able to pull themselves up on things?
I had to pause the blog for a few minutes. Did you miss me? My adventurous little boy decided to go up the stairs into the kitchen and then crawl around in circles through the living room, into Tyler's Spiderman tent, into the dining room, back into the kitchen and then make the whole circle again. He is not walking, yet, but he is certainly able to get around.
His fascination with the steps is sort of fun, but a little scary as well. He is talented enough to climb all the steps in our house, but not quite experienced enough to know that you don't try to sit halfway up on the step before the one he is actually on. So, we have to supervise the climbs. It is fun to watch him climbing the stairs. I imagine him as a mountain climber. Maybe someday he will climb 14ers with me.
Once Connor was done lapping through the rooms on our kitchen level, he decided it was time to climb the bigger stairway to our bedroom level and go into the bathroom. This apparently is one of his favorite activities. He loves to climb up those steps and he really loves to go into the bathroom and put things in the bath tub. I am not sure what is so fun about that, but it obviously is a blast.
After that, he went into his room, crawled to his nightstand and grabbed his tooth brush. The tooth brush is probably his favorite toy right now. He really likes getting his teeth brushed or even brushing his own teeth.
Unrelated to this adventure, Connor's other favorite toy is the dishwasher. I imagine that if Connor could find a dishwasher full of toothbrushes, he would be really excited.
Another pause in the blog. The adventure continued. Up the stairs down the stairs standing up sitting down. Grabbing and playing. Giggling and squealing. I wish I could find so much fun in the ordinary world around me.
Connor is currently in Tyler's room playing with Tyler's toys. Tyler is not around and I am not really supervising. I am listening to him talk to the toys. His voice is probably best described as gleeful; at least his current voice.
Now Connor is back in my room (where I am typing this). The baby still does not talk in English, but he does talk a bunch in his own language. it is pretty cute.
Anyway.... I guess I will close out these ramblings. This probably is not as interesting a story as I intended it to be, but trust me, that has more to do with my writing skills than the subject.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
He is Risen
He is risen indeed.
Yes, today is Easter. For those of us who call ourselves Christians, this is the most spectacularly important and joyous day of the year. Personally, I automatically get tears in my eyes two Sundays a year. I am not one to cry much, but as I've gotten older, gotten married, especially had kids, my eyes "well up" with tears more and more often. I think the kids do it to me the most. Still, I am not what you would call an overly emotional guy. But I've always had to fight tears (or at least as long as I can remember) on Palm Sunday, and Easter. If I'm not careful, someone will notice someday that I am balling while I am pretending to sing:
"Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! our triumphant holy day, Alleluia! who did once upon the cross, Alleluia! suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!"
I guess you could call them tears of joy, but at least partially they are tears of guilt. I like to think I would give my life for my wife or kids. If I had a chance, I probably would. But to suffer and die for the guy down the street or the homeless guy or the guy who punched me in the face, spit on me, laughed at me, and tortured me, is incomprehensible to me. I almost certainly would not do that.
Luckily Jesus did that for me, so it is not something I really have to worry about too much, but it isn't just literally about giving up your life for my neighbor (everyone). I am sure that Jesus would like me to sacrifice more of my time, money, effort, (blood, sweet, and tears) to other people.
I am pretty sure that I give more money to my church and other organizations who do Jesus work than most people. But, money is easy. Especially when I can just write the check, put it in and envelop and just forget about it. And of course, I don't just forget about it. Quite often I think "that could go to Tyler's or Connor's education" or "boy would a big-screen TV have been nice with some of that money" or "why can't I have a nice new mountain bike like this guy". And the truth is, I give a lot, but I have more. Tyler and Connor each have more in their college accounts than the average 18 year old college-bound kid has (and they are 4 and 1). I have 2 TVs and both are more than adequate. My mountain bike needs new shocks, but other than that is fine for what I do with it.
And I am blessed in all kinds of ways. Wife, kids, life, leisure time, money. Honestly, I "have it all". I do not think that anything has ever happened to me that did not turn out for the best. I've never had to struggle making ends meet. I've only really lost one person I've truly loved to death (before a natural time where you can say "it was his (or her) time").
In fact, I am a little worried as I go through the beatitudes that I am in a little bit of trouble when I reach the pearly gates.
Yes, today is Easter. For those of us who call ourselves Christians, this is the most spectacularly important and joyous day of the year. Personally, I automatically get tears in my eyes two Sundays a year. I am not one to cry much, but as I've gotten older, gotten married, especially had kids, my eyes "well up" with tears more and more often. I think the kids do it to me the most. Still, I am not what you would call an overly emotional guy. But I've always had to fight tears (or at least as long as I can remember) on Palm Sunday, and Easter. If I'm not careful, someone will notice someday that I am balling while I am pretending to sing:
"Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia! our triumphant holy day, Alleluia! who did once upon the cross, Alleluia! suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!"
I guess you could call them tears of joy, but at least partially they are tears of guilt. I like to think I would give my life for my wife or kids. If I had a chance, I probably would. But to suffer and die for the guy down the street or the homeless guy or the guy who punched me in the face, spit on me, laughed at me, and tortured me, is incomprehensible to me. I almost certainly would not do that.
Luckily Jesus did that for me, so it is not something I really have to worry about too much, but it isn't just literally about giving up your life for my neighbor (everyone). I am sure that Jesus would like me to sacrifice more of my time, money, effort, (blood, sweet, and tears) to other people.
I am pretty sure that I give more money to my church and other organizations who do Jesus work than most people. But, money is easy. Especially when I can just write the check, put it in and envelop and just forget about it. And of course, I don't just forget about it. Quite often I think "that could go to Tyler's or Connor's education" or "boy would a big-screen TV have been nice with some of that money" or "why can't I have a nice new mountain bike like this guy". And the truth is, I give a lot, but I have more. Tyler and Connor each have more in their college accounts than the average 18 year old college-bound kid has (and they are 4 and 1). I have 2 TVs and both are more than adequate. My mountain bike needs new shocks, but other than that is fine for what I do with it.
And I am blessed in all kinds of ways. Wife, kids, life, leisure time, money. Honestly, I "have it all". I do not think that anything has ever happened to me that did not turn out for the best. I've never had to struggle making ends meet. I've only really lost one person I've truly loved to death (before a natural time where you can say "it was his (or her) time").
In fact, I am a little worried as I go through the beatitudes that I am in a little bit of trouble when I reach the pearly gates.
- Blessed are the poor: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. All things considered, I am wealthy.
- Blessed are the meek: for they shall posses the land. I am somewhat humble, but I just get the feeling I am to really what Jesus had in mind when he referred to the meek.
- Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted. As I wrote before, I've only really had to mourn once in my life, and I've made peace with that long ago.
- Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall have their fill. I can't say I hunger or thirst for justice. I certainly do not go very far out of my way to help people persecuted throughout the world.
- Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. How often do I tell someone that I am not going to give them money to get on the bus?
- Blessed are the clean of heart: for they shall see God. My heart is not that pure.
- Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Well, I very rarely instigate conflict. I do try to make peace when I get a chance. But, it the conflict is not directly affecting me, I try to stay out of the way.
- Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. I have never been persecuted in any manner.
There are millions of people suffering in the world, and these are the people that Jesus was uplifting in his beatitudes. I just am not one of the suffering people.
But, here is the beautiful part of Easter: I am not perfect, but I don't have to be. Jesus was for me. That is pretty amazing. It is something that quite frankly, most people don't completely understand. I can not say I completely understand it. In fact, I probably understand just a very small part of God's mercy.
And, all that is ok because Jesus is risen.
Anyway, in a few minutes, I will go to church, complain about all the two-time-a-year churchgoers. I will sit in the crowded sanctuary with my wife and kids, rejoice and sing, and be happy. And, I am going to cry. No one will probably notice, but I will cry. If anyone does notice and asks, I will say (mostly truthfully) that they are tears of joy. They may be touched or they may think "what a woman", but I don't really care.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Male Grizzlies
This weekend I was attacked by a huge male Grizzly bear. He might have been protecting a little Grizzly cub who was crawling around the area. Something about these two bears reminded me of the male African lions who attacked me last weekend. (Click here for that story). I'm getting too old to be attacked by wild animals every weekend.But, this time as the huge bear was charging, I had a "Brother Bear" type experience. All of a sudden, I became a bear. Pretty freaky, but at the time, I didn't complain, I just used my newly discovered talent to protect myself. Shape-of-a-Grizzly-Bear!
It was an epic battle. When I became a bear, I became one that was much bigger and stronger than even the huge bear that had attacked. He was persistent, though. No matter how many times I pushed him away, he kept coming.
Even with my bear-shape, I am sore from the battle today.
I hope someday to find out how wild animals keep getting in my house. I'm not sure how many of these I can survive.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Dell Part II
Sheppy's Blog: Dell
So, Dell had me reinstall windows again. I did it. I was still having problems. I called the next day to complain and now they are sending me a brand new computer. It will be the exact specifications that I ordered with this current computer.
As I mentioned, I have a co-worker with the exact same computer and basically running the same software who had no problems, so I should be fine, but I have a bit of a nagging doubt that the new computer might have the same problems.
I hope not.
But for right now, I am happy with Dell.
So, Dell had me reinstall windows again. I did it. I was still having problems. I called the next day to complain and now they are sending me a brand new computer. It will be the exact specifications that I ordered with this current computer.
As I mentioned, I have a co-worker with the exact same computer and basically running the same software who had no problems, so I should be fine, but I have a bit of a nagging doubt that the new computer might have the same problems.
I hope not.
But for right now, I am happy with Dell.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Dell
Here I am running hardware diagnostics on my brand new Dell computer. So far, all the tests have passed and I am on the last one (Hard Drive) before the guy on the line tells me that my problem is software. The thing is... I really believe that even if it is software, it is software that Dell provided me. I am sort of pissed at the moment that the last tech support person I talked to didn't have me try this before she had me reinstall windows. Yes, the last tech support person had me reinstall windows and other factory installed software. I've spent more time trouble shooting this brand new (two weeks old yesterday) computer than I've spent troubleshooting all other computers in my life. And, I am a bit suspicious that some of the software I've installed isn't all that stable, but then, I had it all running on my last Dell computer with no problems. AND it is software that I need for my job. AND it is software that a friend / coworker of mine is running on the exact model of computer I am using. I don't know... I am just killing time here while the diagnostics run. At this point, I hate Dell and will probably never buy another. I want to return this piece of crap, but I'm not exactly sure they'll let me if their diagnostic tool doesn't show there is a problem.
Probably not since their warranty says under "Things that are not covered":
Software, including the operating system and software added to the Dell-branded hardware products through our factory-integration system, third-party software, or the reloading of software
What kind of idiot am I buy an expensive laptop computer that doesn't even guarantee that it will work with the software they install. I guess I am screwed.
And then... what do I do for a laptop?
This damn thing is only 38% done. I hate Dell.
Probably not since their warranty says under "Things that are not covered":
Software, including the operating system and software added to the Dell-branded hardware products through our factory-integration system, third-party software, or the reloading of software
What kind of idiot am I buy an expensive laptop computer that doesn't even guarantee that it will work with the software they install. I guess I am screwed.
And then... what do I do for a laptop?
This damn thing is only 38% done. I hate Dell.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Male Lions
I was attacked and mauled by a couple of wild, vicious, African male lions in my own home yesterday after supper. It was a terrifying experience. One was much bigger than the other. In fact I think the littler one wasn't much more than a baby. He was, in fact pretty cute, but once he saw what the bigger one was doing, he joined in with a savagery that made me think he was trying to imitate the big one. Maybe they were brothers and the little brother was trying impress his bigger brother.Anyway, the big one started by charging at me with a blood-curdling roar and his long sharp teeth and claws chomping and slashing toward me. I fought him off as well as I could. In fact, I felt I had things under control until the little one started in as well. The big one kept knocking me over and the little one kept clawing and biting at me while I was down.
The roars of these lions were enough to wake the dead. Actually, I don't think the little one would have been so bad, but when he joined in with the bigger, I really felt like screaming in terror. In fact, I did scream for help.
One thing I didn't know until last night is that male lions sometimes wear batman pajamas. Apparently, they also wear batman underwear. Pretty weird, huh? I also didn't know until last night is that some male lions have only a few teeth and drool something horrible. It only makes getting attacked that much more frightening.
Another thing about wild African lions that surprised me is that they are surprisingly proficient at speaking English! I mean, I've seen Lion King, and those lions talked, but I thought Disney took some liberties when it made those lions speak. No, lions actually know English! The larger of the two lions kept saying things like "I'm a big male lion and I'm grumpy!" Even the little one seemed to say "Da Da Da Da Da," quite a bit.
I also found out that my wife doesn't really care if I get attacked or even eaten by wild animals. I keep screaming for help and she just kept on washing dishes. Washing dishes is one of her favorite activities, but I always thought that if my life was in danger, she would do something or at least be a little worried about me. She was so into her dishes that my cries for help barely even registered with her, and she just ignored my situation.
After what seemed like hours of unrelenting attack, I was finally able to stop the bloodshed by agreeing to read a children's' magazine to the two lions. The magazine had an article in it about lions. Apparently wild African lions enjoy hearing about themselves. I am battered and bloody, but I survived. I don't think I'll ever be quite the same, though.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Tweedle beetles
I've been watching out for the tweedle beetles. It is difficult because they are sneaky. Whenever you look for them, they scatter. Who knows where they go? To make matters worse, whenever they walk around in downtown Denver (maybe other cities as well) they are in disguise! Sometimes they look like big fat men. Sometimes they look like skinny little girls. Sometimes they look like homeless guys or women. Sometimes they look like regular beetles. Differentiating between tweedle beetles in disguise and everyone else is not easy. There is a subtle look in their eyes which is hard to pick up without experience in this sort of thing. And it is hard to see their eyes while they are scattering.
One way you know for sure you are looking at a tweedle beetle is if it is in a bottle with other tweedle beetles having a paddle battle. Quite often the bottle is on a poodle. Sometimes, the poodle is eating noodles. If there is a fox in sox in the bottle with them and a knox is walking away from the bottle, you can be almost certain that you are looking at tweedle beetles. In fact, I've never ever ever heard of this happening with anything but tweedle beetles.
Unfortunately, it is somewhat rare that just walking around downtown, tweedle beetles behave like that. As I said above, they are usually in disguise. Now, I've never had a tweedle beetle do anything physically to me while I'm walking around, but then I look out for them. I hardly ever let my guard down, so it could be that the tweedle beetles are looking for easier marks. I suppose it is possible that the reason I have not had problems with tweedle beetles is that they are, in fact, harmless. But what is the likelihood of that? I certainly don't trust a whole group of organism that wander around in disguise.
You shouldn't either. Watch out for those tweedle beetles.
When Tweedle beetles battle with paddles in a bottle and the bottle is on a poodle and the poodle is eating noodles, they call this a Tweedle beetle puddle paddle noodle poodle battle.
Dr. Seuss
One way you know for sure you are looking at a tweedle beetle is if it is in a bottle with other tweedle beetles having a paddle battle. Quite often the bottle is on a poodle. Sometimes, the poodle is eating noodles. If there is a fox in sox in the bottle with them and a knox is walking away from the bottle, you can be almost certain that you are looking at tweedle beetles. In fact, I've never ever ever heard of this happening with anything but tweedle beetles.
Unfortunately, it is somewhat rare that just walking around downtown, tweedle beetles behave like that. As I said above, they are usually in disguise. Now, I've never had a tweedle beetle do anything physically to me while I'm walking around, but then I look out for them. I hardly ever let my guard down, so it could be that the tweedle beetles are looking for easier marks. I suppose it is possible that the reason I have not had problems with tweedle beetles is that they are, in fact, harmless. But what is the likelihood of that? I certainly don't trust a whole group of organism that wander around in disguise.
You shouldn't either. Watch out for those tweedle beetles.
When Tweedle beetles battle with paddles in a bottle and the bottle is on a poodle and the poodle is eating noodles, they call this a Tweedle beetle puddle paddle noodle poodle battle.
Dr. Seuss
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Irregardless
People who say "irregardless" annoy me.
When someone says "irregardless" to me, I want to look them in the eye, and ask them:
"Do you know what responsible means?"
After they answer, I would ask:
"Do you know what irresponsible means?"
If they did not catch on I would have to go on:
"Do you know what regardless means?"
They may explain, and of course I would have to say something like:
"And why are you using irregardless where you mean regardless?"
Actually the word irregardless is somewhat interesting to me. If you look it up in a dictionary, or at least this is the case with the dictionaries that I have looked it up in, it will tell you that irregardless is non-standard and that it means regardless. Why? Why does irregardless and regardless mean the same thing? And why do some people use the longer word?
Dictionary.com says that it is probably a blend of irrespective and regardless, and that many mistakenly believe it is correctly used in formal style (I know some of those people... I've never been rude enough to correct them ... I probably should ... it would be a favor to them).
To me, it is extremely bizzare example of a double negative. In grade school I remember teachers and other students correcting kids who said things like "I don't got no pencil" by telling them how absurd it is to use double negatives. "Don't" and "no" cancel each other out, so what you are really saying is that you have a pencil. I'll bet that many of the same self-righteous know-it-alls who took pleasure in correcting "don't got no" have grown up and are the very people who use the prefix "ir" and the suffix "less" in the same word.
Irregardless of anything, I am now a business owner. I left the company with which I have been employeed since 1999 (7 years) to do exactly the same thing I was doing before. Several people suggested that as an independent contractor, it would be beneficial it I started an S-Corp of 1 person (me) rather than go and make deals as an individual. So, I am now the owner and sole employee of SheppyTect Solutions, Inc. http://www.sheppytect.com .
It is extremely easy to become incorporated. In colorado, all you have to do it go online, fill out a form, pay $25 and suddenly, there you are. Then, go to the IRS online and fill out a form for your EIN. Then, go and set up a small-business checking account and you are there. I still have to submit a form 2553 to the IRS to get the "S" designation. I'm not sure what will happen if I don't do that in time. I think it will make my life much more complicated than I want. I need to get it sent in before March 15th for the designation to take effect this tax year.
It is sort of fun being a business owner. It doesn't really seem real; it is almost like I am playing at being one. The fact that I am one person and a Corportation seems somewhat amusing to me. Pretty soon, I'll be writing myself pay-checks, re-imbursement myself expenses, charging myself rent for my home office. It all just seems sort of bizzare.
Well, that is it for now. Take care.
When someone says "irregardless" to me, I want to look them in the eye, and ask them:
"Do you know what responsible means?"
After they answer, I would ask:
"Do you know what irresponsible means?"
If they did not catch on I would have to go on:
"Do you know what regardless means?"
They may explain, and of course I would have to say something like:
"And why are you using irregardless where you mean regardless?"
Actually the word irregardless is somewhat interesting to me. If you look it up in a dictionary, or at least this is the case with the dictionaries that I have looked it up in, it will tell you that irregardless is non-standard and that it means regardless. Why? Why does irregardless and regardless mean the same thing? And why do some people use the longer word?
Dictionary.com says that it is probably a blend of irrespective and regardless, and that many mistakenly believe it is correctly used in formal style (I know some of those people... I've never been rude enough to correct them ... I probably should ... it would be a favor to them).
To me, it is extremely bizzare example of a double negative. In grade school I remember teachers and other students correcting kids who said things like "I don't got no pencil" by telling them how absurd it is to use double negatives. "Don't" and "no" cancel each other out, so what you are really saying is that you have a pencil. I'll bet that many of the same self-righteous know-it-alls who took pleasure in correcting "don't got no" have grown up and are the very people who use the prefix "ir" and the suffix "less" in the same word.
Irregardless of anything, I am now a business owner. I left the company with which I have been employeed since 1999 (7 years) to do exactly the same thing I was doing before. Several people suggested that as an independent contractor, it would be beneficial it I started an S-Corp of 1 person (me) rather than go and make deals as an individual. So, I am now the owner and sole employee of SheppyTect Solutions, Inc. http://www.sheppytect.com .
It is extremely easy to become incorporated. In colorado, all you have to do it go online, fill out a form, pay $25 and suddenly, there you are. Then, go to the IRS online and fill out a form for your EIN. Then, go and set up a small-business checking account and you are there. I still have to submit a form 2553 to the IRS to get the "S" designation. I'm not sure what will happen if I don't do that in time. I think it will make my life much more complicated than I want. I need to get it sent in before March 15th for the designation to take effect this tax year.
It is sort of fun being a business owner. It doesn't really seem real; it is almost like I am playing at being one. The fact that I am one person and a Corportation seems somewhat amusing to me. Pretty soon, I'll be writing myself pay-checks, re-imbursement myself expenses, charging myself rent for my home office. It all just seems sort of bizzare.
Well, that is it for now. Take care.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Happy New Year
I got up this morning at about 3, because my baby boy was crying.
My oldest son could sleep through anything at this age (around 9 months) and would hardly ever wake up before a reasonable hour. Even when Tyler did wake up during the night, he would not bother us. He would just talk to himself for awhile and then go back to sleep.
Connor, on the other hand, seems to wake up at any little noise and SCREAMS. Sometimes, he'll suck his thumb and go back to sleep on his own, but sometimes (like last night) he won't stop until he is picked up and comforted. The whole process doesn't take more than about 15 minutes (usually), but that is 15 minutes during prime sleeping time. And most nights he makes it through the night just fine. No big deal... Tyler was just a better sleeper at this age.
Anyway, I don't sleep well after I get up at night. To be honest, it isn't usually Connor's fault. I just often cannot get to sleep. Too many things run through my mind, I guess. Sometimes something is bothering me. Sometimes I am excited about something. Sometimes, I am just not able to get back to sleep.
So, after laying in bed until about 4:15 or so, I got up, took a long shower, got dressed, and went to work. I took the train into work today and listened to my MP3 player. There is something comforting about riding the train in the dark and listening to music. I don't know what it is. I just like it.
One of the songs that I listen to was Nirvana "Smells like teen spirit". I don't understand any of the words, and I have no idea what it is actually about, but I really like the song.
The kingdom of Shep is like "Smells like teen spirit". I hardly ever understand what is going on, but I sure am enjoying it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smells_Like_Teen_Spirit
(I still don't really know what the darn song means)
My oldest son could sleep through anything at this age (around 9 months) and would hardly ever wake up before a reasonable hour. Even when Tyler did wake up during the night, he would not bother us. He would just talk to himself for awhile and then go back to sleep.
Connor, on the other hand, seems to wake up at any little noise and SCREAMS. Sometimes, he'll suck his thumb and go back to sleep on his own, but sometimes (like last night) he won't stop until he is picked up and comforted. The whole process doesn't take more than about 15 minutes (usually), but that is 15 minutes during prime sleeping time. And most nights he makes it through the night just fine. No big deal... Tyler was just a better sleeper at this age.
Anyway, I don't sleep well after I get up at night. To be honest, it isn't usually Connor's fault. I just often cannot get to sleep. Too many things run through my mind, I guess. Sometimes something is bothering me. Sometimes I am excited about something. Sometimes, I am just not able to get back to sleep.
So, after laying in bed until about 4:15 or so, I got up, took a long shower, got dressed, and went to work. I took the train into work today and listened to my MP3 player. There is something comforting about riding the train in the dark and listening to music. I don't know what it is. I just like it.
One of the songs that I listen to was Nirvana "Smells like teen spirit". I don't understand any of the words, and I have no idea what it is actually about, but I really like the song.
The kingdom of Shep is like "Smells like teen spirit". I hardly ever understand what is going on, but I sure am enjoying it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smells_Like_Teen_Spirit
(I still don't really know what the darn song means)
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Potty Training II
So, this is sort of interesting:
Tyler made it through the 7th day and decided he did not want his prize until he got 7 in a row on the same week. So, he is going to wait until he makes it through today until he plays with the little people McDonalds, meaning he had to do 9 days in a row rather than 7.
I'm not complaining. But, what a Strange kid.
Sheppy's Blog: Potty Training
Tyler made it through the 7th day and decided he did not want his prize until he got 7 in a row on the same week. So, he is going to wait until he makes it through today until he plays with the little people McDonalds, meaning he had to do 9 days in a row rather than 7.
I'm not complaining. But, what a Strange kid.
Sheppy's Blog: Potty Training
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Potty Training
I am not sure what the criteria for applying the official title "Potty Trained".
If my 3-year-old boy makes it through today, he will have been clean and dry for 7 days in a row. This will be his second 7-day in a row streak. This month he has been clean and dry 11 days (today will be 12 I am pretty confident) and had accidents only 3 days.
Is that potty trained? My initial response is no, because he still does not stay clean and dry every single day. But, when people ask I give them a long explanation rather than answering yes or no, because if I think about it, he is trained. He has gone in the potty a long time. He even goes in the potty way more than he goes in his pants.
Does anyone know the exact criteria?
Tyler will get a little prize today (he'll actually probably get it tomorrow) for making it 7 days in a row. He gets a "Little People" McDonalds that used to be Tracy's toy. This was from the good-old days when "Little People" were still small enough to choke on. I'm not sure why getting to play with Mom's old toys seems to be Tyler's greatest motivation, but for some reason it is. His fist 7-day streak was rewarded with Tracy's old "Little People" villiage. Weird kid.
If my 3-year-old boy makes it through today, he will have been clean and dry for 7 days in a row. This will be his second 7-day in a row streak. This month he has been clean and dry 11 days (today will be 12 I am pretty confident) and had accidents only 3 days.
Is that potty trained? My initial response is no, because he still does not stay clean and dry every single day. But, when people ask I give them a long explanation rather than answering yes or no, because if I think about it, he is trained. He has gone in the potty a long time. He even goes in the potty way more than he goes in his pants.
Does anyone know the exact criteria?
Tyler will get a little prize today (he'll actually probably get it tomorrow) for making it 7 days in a row. He gets a "Little People" McDonalds that used to be Tracy's toy. This was from the good-old days when "Little People" were still small enough to choke on. I'm not sure why getting to play with Mom's old toys seems to be Tyler's greatest motivation, but for some reason it is. His fist 7-day streak was rewarded with Tracy's old "Little People" villiage. Weird kid.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Thanks
It is the Sunday after Thanksgiving. I, of course, have been ridiculously blessed and am very thankful for everything I have, but perhaps I am not as thankful as I should be. I think this is pretty typical in today's world. In fact, it has probably always been the case that people in general are not as thankful for the things they have as they should be.
Number one on my list of things of which to be thankful, is my wonderful family. My wife is much better than I deserve and my kids are the most wonderful in the world.
Tyler, my 3-year old, got me thinking when he came into my room Thursday morning. I was not quite ready to get up, but he was ready for me to be up, and he was there to help me get up.
Trying to buy time, I told him, "Tyler, it is Thanksgiving. Do you know what you are thankful for?"
"Everything," he said matter-of-factly. This was a very fine answer, but he did not leave it at that. He gave me examples of things he is thankful for. A lot of examples.
He started with the easy ones, "I'm thankful for Mommy, Daddy, Connor, the Lord God." This was a great answer as far as I am concerned. Those of you who read the bible might want to point out that the Lord God should be number one, but I don't think he was ranking, and the Lord God is still somewhat an abstract idea for a 3-year-old. He had answered correctly.
But that is not all... oh no, that is not all. He did not miss a beat and went on with extended family. "Grammy, Papa Lou, Grandma and Grandpa Shepard, Cody and Logan and Tera and Scott and Shean and Caden and Corey and Carey and Grandpa Dale." Very nice, so far it was pretty much a text-book answer.
Of course, I was not expecting much of a comprehensive list, but getting the unexpected is something I should be used to with a 3-year-old. He went on with things like "Our House, my school, my toys." He did not actually say my toys, he basically listed all of his toys. He is thankful for his trains, his little people farm, his castle, his cars, his books, his (this went on forever).
Then it was pretty much of free-for-all. He covered wonders of nature: "I am thankful for mountains, and the sun, and the trees, and the grass, and the leaves. I am thankful for flowers. I am thankful for the sun and the rain and the moon and the clouds. I am thankful for the stars." He covered friends he has: "Miles and Ryan and .... and .... and ....". He is thankful for his bike and his bed and dogs and cats. He is thankful for Colorado and Illinois and Nevada. He is thankful for Church and School and AHa school (which is basically Sunday school). He is thankful for several kinds of foods, including fruits and vegetables as well as candy and ice cream. He is thankful for museums and playgrounds and downtown (Denver).
Here I am lying in bed, not quite ready to join the world, and here my 3-year old was talking on and on over one topic: things he is thankful for. It was not hours, but it sure seemed like it. He repeated some things a few times, but really not as much as you would think. In short, this kid is thankful for everything.
So, that is great. I have a kid who is grateful for what he has. Unfortunately, listening to his list made me realize that I am not always (probably not ever) as thankful as I should be. As I wrote above, I am just ridiculously blessed with everything wonderful I could ever wish for, and several things that I certainly don't need. I am in the wealthiest country in the world with a collective standard of living that is probably the highest of all time. I have a wonderful family and a great job and live exactly where I want to live. I don't have all the material things I sometimes want, but much more than I need, and I have the ability to give some of my stuff away to less fortunate people.
But, sometimes, not only do I forget to be thankful for what I have, sometimes I even find myself complaining about it. My house isn't big enough. My job doesn't pay enough. I don't get enough vacation. You get the idea. My guess is that you probably do the same thing.
And when was the last time you said something like, "I am thankful for mountains, and the sun, and the trees, and the grass, and the leaves"?
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Theodore
Today, Tyler brought home a spider named Theodore from school. Theodore is a big black, furry tarantula that the class has adopted. The class members take turns taking him home and record his adventures in a journal. Several of the entries include pictures. Apparently, Theo has had some interesting adventures. He seems to be a Broncos fan. I didn't know spiders were much interested in football, but now I do know.For an arachnid, Theodore is pretty nice, although I was a little hurt when he didn't eat the crickets and beetles that I made him for supper. He wasn't real hungry and politely declined, so I guess I can't complain much. I guess I should have asked before starting to prepare supper. Luckily, Tyler's Spider Man likes to eat bugs and so they did not go to waste. And, I was pleasantly surprised that even when Tyler got his piece of Halloween candy for dessert, Theo didn't all of a sudden become hungry for candy.
After supper, we all played baseball in the living room. Well, actually Spider Man decided to sit out and watch, so we didn't all play. Theodore played catcher while I pitched. Tyler hit and Connor played outfield. Theo isn't much of an athlete, but he didn't let that stop him from having fun. It was a pretty good game even if Tyler and I did most of the work for all teams.
Then, Tyler and Theodore decided that they wanted to play hide-and-seek. Connor and I had no objections and even Spider Man said he would like to play, so we went ahead and played. Tyler hid with Spider Man and Theodore every time, leaving Connor and me to seek. To be honest, my three year old is not very good at hiding. Whenever the seeker(s) gets close, he just cracks up giggling. It probably didn't help that he had two friends to hide with this time. It was a fun game, just not all that challenging.
When we finished hide-and-seek, we went up to put Tyler in his PJ's and an amazing thing happened! Tyler disappeared and Super Man showed up! Yes, Super Man. The Super Man. So, not only did Theodore have the distinct honor of spending quality time with my two kids, but also got to fly around the house with Super Man.
Tyler, Theo, and I wrote in Theodore's journal while Mommy ate dinner (Mommy had to work late talking to people about insurance and garbage like that.) We wrote from Theodore's perspective which is completely different than everyone else has done so far. Ours is also a bit longer than most.
Mommy put everyone to bed. It was my turn, but she stole it from me. I'm not sure why, but my place is to do as I am told... not question decisions made by my superiors.
Anyway, I think Theo had a nice time visiting us. I know Tyler and Connor enjoyed having Theo over. Even Mommy seemed to like the tarantula, which sort of surprised me since even crickets freak her out and Theo is a BIG spider. I hope he comes back to visit sometime when we have more than a night to play with him.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Smacking Tyler
Every once and awhile, my little boy, Tyler gets on my nerves and I "smack" him.
Here is an example of how it comes to be that I need to smack him: Last night, it was time to get Tyler in his pajamas, and Tyler was just not interested. He was running around, jumping on the bed and "hiding" from me and basically just not listening to me when I told him to "come here so I can put your pajamas on."
Then, I got frustrated. "Do you want me to Smack you?"
"Yes" he giggled.
Well, I can't threaten the boy without following through. I came up to him, aimed at his face and ... "Smack!! Smack!! Smack!!". Tyler just giggled.
I "smack" Tyler with my lips. I kiss him on the face and neck while smacking my lips as loud as I can.
I am wondering if this is a good idea. I do this, because I am frustrated with the way he is behaving, but his behavior is not bad enough to spank him or even give him a time-out. So, the kiss refocuses my frustration and it also gives me a chance to get him to stop what he is doing. All this is probably ok.
But, I guess I am wondering what will happen to me if someday Tyler is talking to one of his little friends and says "My dad smacked me last night. He smacks me all the time," while a teacher or another parent is listening. Explaining that my smack is a lip smacking may not fly in today's world. Plus, is it a good idea to make a game out of behavior that frustrates me? Like I said, it is the sort of behavior that isn't really bad enough to punish, but I am not sure rewarding him is a good idea.
Well... this sure isn't one of my biggest problems in the world. I'll probably keep doing this. It is certainly better than yelling at or hitting the kid ..... right?
Here is an example of how it comes to be that I need to smack him: Last night, it was time to get Tyler in his pajamas, and Tyler was just not interested. He was running around, jumping on the bed and "hiding" from me and basically just not listening to me when I told him to "come here so I can put your pajamas on."
Then, I got frustrated. "Do you want me to Smack you?"
"Yes" he giggled.
Well, I can't threaten the boy without following through. I came up to him, aimed at his face and ... "Smack!! Smack!! Smack!!". Tyler just giggled.
I "smack" Tyler with my lips. I kiss him on the face and neck while smacking my lips as loud as I can.
I am wondering if this is a good idea. I do this, because I am frustrated with the way he is behaving, but his behavior is not bad enough to spank him or even give him a time-out. So, the kiss refocuses my frustration and it also gives me a chance to get him to stop what he is doing. All this is probably ok.
But, I guess I am wondering what will happen to me if someday Tyler is talking to one of his little friends and says "My dad smacked me last night. He smacks me all the time," while a teacher or another parent is listening. Explaining that my smack is a lip smacking may not fly in today's world. Plus, is it a good idea to make a game out of behavior that frustrates me? Like I said, it is the sort of behavior that isn't really bad enough to punish, but I am not sure rewarding him is a good idea.
Well... this sure isn't one of my biggest problems in the world. I'll probably keep doing this. It is certainly better than yelling at or hitting the kid ..... right?
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Jeremy Shepard
On September 5, 2001, my brother, Jeremy, died when he was 15 years old. He collapsed after running the mile in Gym class, and his heart stopped.
He was born when I was a sophomore in high school. He was born with heart defects which had to be corrected surgically soon after he was born. He spent much of his first year in the hospital. After the surgery, we thought there was no reason that he wouldn't have a normal life without problems. And he did have a normal life (as normal a life you could have in my family) until his sophomore year in high-school. His death came as a complete surprise and shock to everyone.
For some reason, the day of Jeremy's death is stuck in my mind, but the year is something I have to think about. In fact, I cannot recall the birth dates of my children (March 10th and April 5th) as automatically as Jeremy's death date. 0905 is stuck in my mind. 2001 isn't. When I have to remember the year, I can by reminding myself it was the year before Tyler, my oldest son, was born. Why I have such a hard time remembering the year (without a brief reminder) is a mystery to me. You would think that September 2001 would be especially easy to remember (September 11, 2001 was in a few days), but for me, it isn't.
Tracy was home alone when my dad called on the afternoon of the 5th. I was riding my bike home from work and unavailable, so I didn't know until I walked in to find my wife crying. She told me to call my dad. "Some thing's wrong," she sobbed to me. Apparently he didn't tell her what exactly was wrong ... just to have me call immediately.
I was devastated when my dad told me Jeremy was dead. It was just something that I could not believe. 15 year old kids don't drop dead from over-exerting themselves, especially athletic ones like my little brother. I swear I was just sitting there waiting for the punch-line; it was just so unbelievable that Jeremy was gone. I don't remember much about the rest of that day. There is no doubt that I was in shock... sort of a painful, gloomy, lose-all-hope sort of fog. In fact, I was in that same fog for weeks or months after the death.
I don't think I ever felt angry over Jeremy's death. I didn't try to blame God or the high-school or doctors. I was never angry, but I was certainly confused. And of course I was just utterly heartbroken. I did beat myself up a little bit for not being closer to my little brother. I started remembering every time I wasn't as patient as I should be with him as a little boy, and thinking about how seldom we talked after I graduated high-school, and even more-so after I graduated college.
I don't remember much about the couple of days after Jeremy's death. I had to make arrangements to get back to Beach Park, Illinois for Jeremy's funeral on the 10th. I had to tell people at work that I would not be around for a few days. Neither of these things were much fun to take care of. I think I cried more those two days than I ever have in my life.
Somehow, I ended back in Illinois with my pregnant wife for the wake. One thing I do remember about the wake was that Tracy had a big bag of glop (trail mix) because pregnant women need snacks every few minutes. Luckily, she was willing to share the food, because I think ended up needing it almost as much as she did.
The wake exhausted me. The line to view the casket snaked around outside for a couple of blocks. There were literally hundreds of people saying how sorry they were and how they just didn't know what to say. I told most of them, "That's OK... I don't really know what I want to hear." In my head I kept saying, "just tell me that it is just a bad dream and that I will wake up soon with my brother alive again." I was struck by how many people told me what a wonderful, kind person my brother was. He had lots more friends than I ever had in high-school, and they all had stories about what an energetic, kind, joyous, funny person he always was. I bet I didn't actually talk to 20% of the people who showed up ... and I felt like I was talking all night.
A bunch of my college friends also showed up. Some of them drove a couple of hours to help comfort me for a few minutes. I was actually a little bit surprised that so many of my friends made such an effort. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.
There was more food at my parents' house than we had room for. And people kept telling us that they had something for us. We had to turn a bunch of food away.
I am definitely an introvert, so interacting with all these people drained me over the few days before Jeremy's funeral. It was nice to hear the nice things they said about him, and I am glad that there were so many people trying to comfort us, but still they drained me.
The funeral was Monday the 10th. The church was packed. Many of Jeremy's high-school friends were excused from classes and came. I remember looking at my Mom who just looked miserable (understandably). I tried to fight back tears, and amazingly, I succeeded for the most part. From what I remember, the service was fine, but I had agreed to be a pall-bearer and for some reason, I dreaded that. The walk down the isle was difficult carrying my dead brother, but I think the most difficult thing I've ever done was to help lift his box into the back of the hearse. I feel like I froze there forever, but I doubt it was more than a second or two. No one else noticed my hesitation. I was the first person on the left side of the coffin, so if I had actually frozen, it probably would have been obvious.
I don't remember the rest of the day, except we watched part of the Broncos and Giants on Monday Night Football. I didn't see the Broncos win and I didn't see Ed McCaffery break his leg, but I heard about both those things the next morning.
And of course, everyone knows what happened on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. It was the day after my brother's funeral. I'm not sure if my shock was greater or less because of the closeness to my brother's death. While we were watching the towers burn on TV, my wife suddenly realized that her brother Tim sometimes worked down in that part of town and ran off sobbing. It turned out that he was no where near the Towers that day, but that was certainly scary to think.
I didn't lose anybody on September 11. Thank God. I'm not sure how I would have handled that on top of Jeremy's death. Whenever anybody mentions September 11th, I associate it more with the death of my brother 6 days before than I do the terrorism attacks. It is sort of weird what perspective we have on such things. For the most part, I would say my life is back to normal. Neither event affects my day-to-day life the way I would have thought 4 years ago.
There are all kinds of references on the internet to the terrorism attacks of September 11th. I can find almost nothing of the death of my brother by googling it. For awhile, one of our neighbors was trying to get a park named after Jeremy Shepard. I don't think anything came of it other than a record of it in the Beach Park Village Board minutes: http://www.villageofbeachpark.com/pdf/villagelink/TVL4.pdf . I believe my old high-school did a Jeremy Shepard memorial soccer tournament for at least a couple of years, and I am able to find his name on old 2002 and 2003 soccer schedules.
Anyway, here it is 4 years later and I am still thinking about him, but not with as much sorrow as I did 3 years ago or even last year. My oldest son's middle name is Jeremy. Quite often, especially when Tyler was a baby, but still as a pre-schooler, I see some of Jeremy's facial expressions in Tyler. I'm not sure if there is actually something there, or just my imagination. As he gets older, I'll probably see less and less if for no other reason, it is getting harder and harder to remember the details of how Jeremy looked and acted. And of course, after I went away to College, I did not see as much of my brother as I did when we lived together.
He was born when I was a sophomore in high school. He was born with heart defects which had to be corrected surgically soon after he was born. He spent much of his first year in the hospital. After the surgery, we thought there was no reason that he wouldn't have a normal life without problems. And he did have a normal life (as normal a life you could have in my family) until his sophomore year in high-school. His death came as a complete surprise and shock to everyone.
For some reason, the day of Jeremy's death is stuck in my mind, but the year is something I have to think about. In fact, I cannot recall the birth dates of my children (March 10th and April 5th) as automatically as Jeremy's death date. 0905 is stuck in my mind. 2001 isn't. When I have to remember the year, I can by reminding myself it was the year before Tyler, my oldest son, was born. Why I have such a hard time remembering the year (without a brief reminder) is a mystery to me. You would think that September 2001 would be especially easy to remember (September 11, 2001 was in a few days), but for me, it isn't.
Tracy was home alone when my dad called on the afternoon of the 5th. I was riding my bike home from work and unavailable, so I didn't know until I walked in to find my wife crying. She told me to call my dad. "Some thing's wrong," she sobbed to me. Apparently he didn't tell her what exactly was wrong ... just to have me call immediately.
I was devastated when my dad told me Jeremy was dead. It was just something that I could not believe. 15 year old kids don't drop dead from over-exerting themselves, especially athletic ones like my little brother. I swear I was just sitting there waiting for the punch-line; it was just so unbelievable that Jeremy was gone. I don't remember much about the rest of that day. There is no doubt that I was in shock... sort of a painful, gloomy, lose-all-hope sort of fog. In fact, I was in that same fog for weeks or months after the death.
I don't think I ever felt angry over Jeremy's death. I didn't try to blame God or the high-school or doctors. I was never angry, but I was certainly confused. And of course I was just utterly heartbroken. I did beat myself up a little bit for not being closer to my little brother. I started remembering every time I wasn't as patient as I should be with him as a little boy, and thinking about how seldom we talked after I graduated high-school, and even more-so after I graduated college.
I don't remember much about the couple of days after Jeremy's death. I had to make arrangements to get back to Beach Park, Illinois for Jeremy's funeral on the 10th. I had to tell people at work that I would not be around for a few days. Neither of these things were much fun to take care of. I think I cried more those two days than I ever have in my life.
Somehow, I ended back in Illinois with my pregnant wife for the wake. One thing I do remember about the wake was that Tracy had a big bag of glop (trail mix) because pregnant women need snacks every few minutes. Luckily, she was willing to share the food, because I think ended up needing it almost as much as she did.
The wake exhausted me. The line to view the casket snaked around outside for a couple of blocks. There were literally hundreds of people saying how sorry they were and how they just didn't know what to say. I told most of them, "That's OK... I don't really know what I want to hear." In my head I kept saying, "just tell me that it is just a bad dream and that I will wake up soon with my brother alive again." I was struck by how many people told me what a wonderful, kind person my brother was. He had lots more friends than I ever had in high-school, and they all had stories about what an energetic, kind, joyous, funny person he always was. I bet I didn't actually talk to 20% of the people who showed up ... and I felt like I was talking all night.
A bunch of my college friends also showed up. Some of them drove a couple of hours to help comfort me for a few minutes. I was actually a little bit surprised that so many of my friends made such an effort. It shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.
There was more food at my parents' house than we had room for. And people kept telling us that they had something for us. We had to turn a bunch of food away.
I am definitely an introvert, so interacting with all these people drained me over the few days before Jeremy's funeral. It was nice to hear the nice things they said about him, and I am glad that there were so many people trying to comfort us, but still they drained me.
The funeral was Monday the 10th. The church was packed. Many of Jeremy's high-school friends were excused from classes and came. I remember looking at my Mom who just looked miserable (understandably). I tried to fight back tears, and amazingly, I succeeded for the most part. From what I remember, the service was fine, but I had agreed to be a pall-bearer and for some reason, I dreaded that. The walk down the isle was difficult carrying my dead brother, but I think the most difficult thing I've ever done was to help lift his box into the back of the hearse. I feel like I froze there forever, but I doubt it was more than a second or two. No one else noticed my hesitation. I was the first person on the left side of the coffin, so if I had actually frozen, it probably would have been obvious.
I don't remember the rest of the day, except we watched part of the Broncos and Giants on Monday Night Football. I didn't see the Broncos win and I didn't see Ed McCaffery break his leg, but I heard about both those things the next morning.
And of course, everyone knows what happened on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. It was the day after my brother's funeral. I'm not sure if my shock was greater or less because of the closeness to my brother's death. While we were watching the towers burn on TV, my wife suddenly realized that her brother Tim sometimes worked down in that part of town and ran off sobbing. It turned out that he was no where near the Towers that day, but that was certainly scary to think.
I didn't lose anybody on September 11. Thank God. I'm not sure how I would have handled that on top of Jeremy's death. Whenever anybody mentions September 11th, I associate it more with the death of my brother 6 days before than I do the terrorism attacks. It is sort of weird what perspective we have on such things. For the most part, I would say my life is back to normal. Neither event affects my day-to-day life the way I would have thought 4 years ago.
There are all kinds of references on the internet to the terrorism attacks of September 11th. I can find almost nothing of the death of my brother by googling it. For awhile, one of our neighbors was trying to get a park named after Jeremy Shepard. I don't think anything came of it other than a record of it in the Beach Park Village Board minutes: http://www.villageofbeachpark.com/pdf/villagelink/TVL4.pdf . I believe my old high-school did a Jeremy Shepard memorial soccer tournament for at least a couple of years, and I am able to find his name on old 2002 and 2003 soccer schedules.
Anyway, here it is 4 years later and I am still thinking about him, but not with as much sorrow as I did 3 years ago or even last year. My oldest son's middle name is Jeremy. Quite often, especially when Tyler was a baby, but still as a pre-schooler, I see some of Jeremy's facial expressions in Tyler. I'm not sure if there is actually something there, or just my imagination. As he gets older, I'll probably see less and less if for no other reason, it is getting harder and harder to remember the details of how Jeremy looked and acted. And of course, after I went away to College, I did not see as much of my brother as I did when we lived together.
Friday, September 02, 2005
10 Years
I have now been married 10 years.
I still lust for my wife. Tracy gets sexier and sexier. Every time I see her, I want to rip her clothes off and do X-Rated things to her body.
Personally, I think she could have married better. I know her mom and dad both think so too, although they are too kind to say so. I think my mom, dad, and sister also think so, although they would never even admit it to themselves let alone tell me about it. But, for some reason, Tracy picked me and has decided to stick with that decision.
It turned out pretty well for her, because we have the two most wonderful boys in the world. Tyler likes to tell us "This is the best family ever." And, Connor just can not stop smiling and laughing, telling us in his cute 3,4, and now 5 - month old sort of way, that he also thinks it is a great family. Both just have a knack for making their parents extremely happy. We could not ask for better kids.
I met Tracy at a Bradley University fraternity party late in 1990. Neither of us were ever high on pay-for-friends institutions like Fraternities or Sororities, but neither of us had much of a problem drinking free Fraternity beer. Surprisingly, she seemed interested in me (I attribute that to the free Fraternity beer impairing her judgment), and we started seeing each other quite a bit. Obviously, I tried to keep her drunk enough that she wouldn't come to her senses, and it seemed to work. I even left the next semester for a co-op assignment in Evanston, Illinois about 200 miles from Bradley. I guess you could say she waited for me. I came down most weekends to spend time with her, and she was the kind of college student who actually studied Monday thru Friday, so in a way, she might not have even noticed I was gone.
We quickly became Shep&Tracy and stayed that way until we became Mr. and Mrs. Shepard about 5 years after we met. No one really had much doubt during that time that we would end up married. After college, Tracy got a job in Normal Illinois working as a co-manager for a Kroger supermarket. I stayed in the area to be near her and got a job at LR Nelson in Peoria. I lived in Morton which was about half-way between my job and Tracy's apartment. We were far enough away to keep her parents happy but close enough that we could see each other on days off.
Things went well, and we got married in 1995. Tracy quit her Kroger job and we moved into an apartment minutes from LR Nelson.
Eventually, we decided to get the heck out of Illinois. After a little discussion (not much because we both agreed) we decided to quit our jobs and move out to Colorado. In October of 1998 we took a "vacation" to Colorado. I spent most of it interviewing and got a job offer in Denver, which I accepted. So, I came back to LR Nelson and gave a few weeks notice. We packed up a little u-haul truck and drove out to Englewood, Colorado in December 1998.
A little over a year after moving into an apartment in Englewood, we got ourselves a house in Littleton. A couple more years and "we" decided to have our first child. Tracy actually made that decision, but I didn't object, even though the prospect of being in charge of a child completely frightened me.
That turned out well. Tyler is a wonderful child.
Another couple of years, "we" decided to have our second child. Again, Tracy actually made the decision; again I didn't object. The prospect of having two children utterly dependant on me still completely frightens me, but I have learned to live with the fear.
That turned out even better than the first one. Connor is also a wonderful child, and Tyler is now a great big brother.
Not a minute goes by that I don't feel completely blessed with my wife and children. I am a lucky guy. Tracy could have done better, but it is too late now. She's stuck for better or worse. Luckily, it keeps getting better and better (especially for me, but I guess for her too).
I still lust for my wife. Tracy gets sexier and sexier. Every time I see her, I want to rip her clothes off and do X-Rated things to her body.
Personally, I think she could have married better. I know her mom and dad both think so too, although they are too kind to say so. I think my mom, dad, and sister also think so, although they would never even admit it to themselves let alone tell me about it. But, for some reason, Tracy picked me and has decided to stick with that decision.
It turned out pretty well for her, because we have the two most wonderful boys in the world. Tyler likes to tell us "This is the best family ever." And, Connor just can not stop smiling and laughing, telling us in his cute 3,4, and now 5 - month old sort of way, that he also thinks it is a great family. Both just have a knack for making their parents extremely happy. We could not ask for better kids.
I met Tracy at a Bradley University fraternity party late in 1990. Neither of us were ever high on pay-for-friends institutions like Fraternities or Sororities, but neither of us had much of a problem drinking free Fraternity beer. Surprisingly, she seemed interested in me (I attribute that to the free Fraternity beer impairing her judgment), and we started seeing each other quite a bit. Obviously, I tried to keep her drunk enough that she wouldn't come to her senses, and it seemed to work. I even left the next semester for a co-op assignment in Evanston, Illinois about 200 miles from Bradley. I guess you could say she waited for me. I came down most weekends to spend time with her, and she was the kind of college student who actually studied Monday thru Friday, so in a way, she might not have even noticed I was gone.
We quickly became Shep&Tracy and stayed that way until we became Mr. and Mrs. Shepard about 5 years after we met. No one really had much doubt during that time that we would end up married. After college, Tracy got a job in Normal Illinois working as a co-manager for a Kroger supermarket. I stayed in the area to be near her and got a job at LR Nelson in Peoria. I lived in Morton which was about half-way between my job and Tracy's apartment. We were far enough away to keep her parents happy but close enough that we could see each other on days off.
Things went well, and we got married in 1995. Tracy quit her Kroger job and we moved into an apartment minutes from LR Nelson.
Eventually, we decided to get the heck out of Illinois. After a little discussion (not much because we both agreed) we decided to quit our jobs and move out to Colorado. In October of 1998 we took a "vacation" to Colorado. I spent most of it interviewing and got a job offer in Denver, which I accepted. So, I came back to LR Nelson and gave a few weeks notice. We packed up a little u-haul truck and drove out to Englewood, Colorado in December 1998.
A little over a year after moving into an apartment in Englewood, we got ourselves a house in Littleton. A couple more years and "we" decided to have our first child. Tracy actually made that decision, but I didn't object, even though the prospect of being in charge of a child completely frightened me.
That turned out well. Tyler is a wonderful child.
Another couple of years, "we" decided to have our second child. Again, Tracy actually made the decision; again I didn't object. The prospect of having two children utterly dependant on me still completely frightens me, but I have learned to live with the fear.
That turned out even better than the first one. Connor is also a wonderful child, and Tyler is now a great big brother.
Not a minute goes by that I don't feel completely blessed with my wife and children. I am a lucky guy. Tracy could have done better, but it is too late now. She's stuck for better or worse. Luckily, it keeps getting better and better (especially for me, but I guess for her too).
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