Monday, July 26, 2010

Airbending and Bad Lyrics

I just took a road trip with 5 family members. Road trips with family are great except for the part where you are in the car for 10+ hours with a son who is an airbender. If you do not know what an airbender is you should watch the movie The Last Airbender, only wait until it comes to the dollar theater or to RedBox or if you are rich go see it anyway and play games on your cell phone or watch another movie on your iPod, not that I have ever done that mostly because I don’t have an iPod, or you could take a pillow so you could have a more comfortable nap than I did. Or, better yet, watch the cartoon, Aviatar because it is somucho better than the movie; however, I think you need NetFlex to do this or relatives that have NetFlex or somebody that has bought seasons of Avatar on DVD.

For those of you who are not going to watch Avatar or The Last Airbender, in a nutshell, an airbender is someone that can move air in a destructive manner, at least it is destructive if you are the BAD guy who is having air bent at you because there is only one airbender and he is a good guy and bald and has an arrow on his head.

Anyway on this long road trip with much airbending, we listened to music. My son played a song from a band, which fortunately I don’t recall the name of else they would be ruined by this post, who he is familiar with because he is friends with one of the band members. The reason I am writing all this is because the lyrics to their song went like this: “I’m digging you like a grave. . .” Really??? Really??? Why not, “I’m picking you like my nose,” or “my seat,” or “I’m holding you like my breath,” or “my bladder.” The bladder came up because as I said, it was a long trip.

However, there are much more famous bands with equally bad lyrics. Some of my favorites are:

“I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm” (Wham)

I wonder how this would hold up in a court of law. I’d like to cross examine the witness your honor. (To the witness:) DANCE you fool. Ah ha, so you can’t dance. Guilty! I knew it was you all along!

“Having my baby
What a lovely way of saying
What you’re thinking of me”—(Paul Anka’s (You’re Having My Baby)

Personally, I just send a card or flowers.

“Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don’t think that I can take it
Cause it took so long to make it
And I’ll never have that recipe again - - oh no!” (MacArthur Park, lyrics by Jimmy Webb)

So many questions. Why did he bake a cake in the first place? Why did he take it out in the rain? Why did it get left there? And why oh why did it take so long to make? And where did the recipe go?

And one of my all time favorites:

"I am," I said
To no one there
An no one heard at all
Not even the chair (Neil Diamond)

Neil maybe you should come to America, marry a Kentucky woman whose name is sweet Caroline and stop talking to furniture. Or maybe you just need a new chair, but then again, my furniture never listens. However, my fridge does talk. It calls me and I obediently come running.

For more great lyrics like the ones below, check out the following link:

I Bought the Shoes that Just Walked Out on Me

I Went Back to My Fourth Wife for the Third Time and Gave Her a Second Chance to Make a First Class Fool Out of Me

If I Were In Your Shoes, I'd Walk Right Back To Me

Her Teeth Were Stained, But Her Heart was Pure


Tuesday, July 20, 2010

We Gotta Go

            It’s important to keep moving.  If you’re moving, you are winning.  This is the motto of the Campbell men.  However, I’m not sure what the prize is.
            The object of arriving at any destination is to leave said destination and go someplace else.
            I have evidence.  Documented evidence.  We have this on again off again family tradition (depending on if the Campbell men have to go) of decorating a Christmas tree in the wild with food for the animals.  We got this idea from a picture book called the Night Tree.
            I recorded our first outing.  The children gleefully hanging peanut butter dipped, bird seed sprinkled bagels from evergreen branches, long chains of popcorn, pretzels and cranberries hung from snowy boughs, kids excitedly talking about the critter Christmas feast they are preparing.
            In the background the Campbell men look like a couple of race horses trapped inside the starting gate.  They uncomfortably shift their weight.  I believe there are some snorts and whinnies.  They begin rubbing their hands together and saying things like, “Good job guys.  Let’s go,” and “okay, one more bagel then we gotta go.”  Now their voices are less patient—“Hurry up!  We gotta go!”
            Then my little niece turns to said Campbell men who are stomping and foaming at the bit and asks, “Where do we gotta go?”
            This question is followed by a long silence because the Campbell men have no idea where they have to go.
            On road trips the car not only serves as transportation, but as a cage.  On a car trip to Mexico, I got a desperate text from my sister-in-law, “The “cat” has the “mice” trapped and won’t even let them out to pee.”
            When attending any type of formal function such as a wedding reception, luncheon, family gathering, church potluck, etc., an exit strategy is always planned.  These strategies include all sorts of ploys like pinching small children to make them cry, spilling food, induced vomiting, starting small fires. . . Okay, maybe it doesn’t get to that point.  But, I know what’s going through their heads.
            So, here is my list of advice to all men:
1.         We’ll be there when we get there.  (This also applies to children.)
2.         Rome was not built in a day, so don’t expect to get there in a day.
3.         If you have taken a 1-hour detour to avoid a 30 minute traffic jam, you are not winning. 
4.         It’s okay to stop and take a break, go to the bathroom, stretch your legs, make out with your wife. . .Enjoy the journey.
5.         The one who gets to said destination without pee stained, vomit reeking car is the real winner.
6.         Be where you are when you are there.  If you are in the car wishing you were there and then there wishing you were in the car and then in the car wishing you were home and then home wishing you were someplace else, you are never really anywhere and you’re giving everybody else a headache.  P.S.  you are not winning, you’re whining.
7.         And finally, if you can’t abide by these rules, take some Dramamine, sit in the back, and let me drive.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Dakota, the Death Screaming Dog

In my Marley and Me post I wrote that I had bad dogs. Did you catch the “s” at the end? That means more than one bad dog. However, I only mentioned exhibit A, Toby, the rose-bush, collar eating, almost inside-out frying pan escaping dog. I really do hope he is happy chilling with the biker.

Shortly after doing the big victory-dog-gone dance, that little voice inside my head started saying I need a dog. (Who are you little voice??? Why are you little voice???)

So after Toby, I got another dog, actually I got three more dogs, just not at the same time. Next dog, exhibit B., Dakota. Cute, adorable, fluffy and small. Small poop. Big dog, big poop, small dog, small poop. Big difference.

Dakota was a great dog. Lots of people thought so, mostly people who didn’t know him. They’d see him on his leash, gush things like, “Oh look at the cutsey wutsey little doggie woggie.”

People who knew Dakota, hated him. He barked. And, if he didn’t bark, he whined. Actually he didn’t whine he screamed. He could perfectly replicate the sound made by Wesley in the movie The Princess Bride when they suck all the life out of him. And I don’t think he ever saw the movie. . .

He made this sound to torment me. No other reason. And when I went outside and told him to stop, he got louder. If I tried to go to him to make him stop, he would run and scream louder. Then I would run faster, even if I was in my pajamas and had serious bed head.

Then people passing by would hear the dog death scream and yell things like, “Hey what are you doing to that cute little dog?” or, “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

I would tell the helpful spectator where he could get off, then recruit my children to help. Now we are all running around the backyard with brooms, fly swatters, light sabers and the spatula from the bar-b-q grill, while I am wondering if I can get the dog in the house before the Humane Society or CPS shows up.

I could look forward to repeating this ritual every time the dog needed to go out. Remember, small dog, small bladder.

(I should interject here that if you do decide to get a yappy, death screaming dog, or actually any kind of dog, don’t give it a person’s name. Big mistake. You don’t want to be yelling things like, “get that rose bush out of your mouth Molly.” Or, “how many times do I have to tell you not to pee on that bush Sam?”

Friday, July 9, 2010

Some Things Never Change

My husband and I, but mostly my husband, are currently working on the monstrous project of transferring all of our vhs, mini dv, and super 8 tapes to DVD. I say mostly my husband unless you count sitting on the couch laughing, crying, and yelling, "Ric, this one's finished!" as helping.

Things I have learned:

1. Mom jeans have never been flattering, not even in the 80's or 90's.
2. Baggy does not look cool, just sloppy.
3. All those times I thought I was having a good hair day, I wasn't.
4. My son, who I thought was cute, was really just obnoxious.
5. Do not tape an entire school play. You think it will be fun to watch in 10 years, but trust me, it won't.
6. When your children want to dress themselves, don't let them. They will blame you for it when they are older.
7. Make sure your children all get equal screen time, or you will hear about it.
8. My house was cleaner when my children were smaller.
9. I used to have not as many wrinkles.
10. And my favorite::: The me on video started to sing to the music in the video background, just as the me today started to sing with the me in the video to the music in the video background, just as the Morganne in the video turned to the me in the video and said, "Stop singing," just as the today Morganne turned to me and said, "Stop singing," just as the me in the video and the me in real life turned to the Morganne in the video and the Morganne in real life and said, "I can't help it." After all, how can I keep from singing? It was kind of a time-warped, surreal moment for all four of us.

Some things never change.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Sick Hamsters

My hamster is sick. You know, that little hamster that lives inside my head and turns the wheels, well he is not turning any wheels. Most of the time he is lying on his back in a corner of my brain with his cheeks stuffed full of sunflower seeds. No wheels turning here, only an occasional leg twitch.