Energy

Our little girl turned four years old the other day. (I can hardly believe it, where has the time gone?) We celebrated Bee's birthday at her preschool, and it was a short but sweet celebration. My favorite part was before the party even started. We got there early to set up, and the kids were outside playing. They were frolicking around in the fresh air, and when they saw us they came running over. Well, the girls did anyway. The boys were too busy pedaling in giant circles on their trikes to pay us any attention. Bee was so happy to see us, and was extremely excited about her impending party. So were her little friends. They chatted and giggled, dancing around us in anticipation. And then it was time for them to line up to come inside. They were all so happy you could feel them physically vibrating with intensity, they could barely contain themselves. If we could find a way to harness all of that energy, oil would seriously be a thing of the past. Preschool Kid Energy is pretty clean, easily renewable, and healthy for the environment. If only I could figure out how to do this then we probably wouldn't be Misers anymore.

More Jewelry for the House

I've made more tiles to hang on the house, around the downstairs doorframe, outside. I like it that they are not perfectly square, and some of them turn up a bit at the corners. The glazes also look much different than what I originally intended. When I first started making ceramics I would get upset when something came out of the kiln and didn't look I thought it would. But over the years I've learned not to expect too much control over my pieces as they rarely come out looking like they do in my mind's eye when they're being made. In fact, sometimes they are far better. And I've learned to like their flaws as well. Sometimes these flaws are the best part, but it usually takes me a couple of days of living with the pieces before I come to that conclusion. I have to first let go of my expectations, which is not always easy to do.

Snark

I'm in a kind of snarky mood today. Which is probably fairly obvious by my utiliziation of the word "snarky", which I never use. Just now I drove by three giant billboards for the movie "Arthur" within a one mile radius. Really? They need that many billboards? For a movie that looks like it's going to be worse than dreadful? First of all, who actually likes Russell Brand besides Katy Perry? Secondly, why is Helen Mirren in this movie? She is a stellar actor and I cannot imagine why she would sign on to this schlocky remake. And why is Hollywood remaking this movie in the first place? I saw the original one years ago with Dudley Moore playing the lovable drunken billionaire buffoon, and I remember finding it funny. My guess is that the film didn't age well, though. But that doesn't mean we need a remake of it. Why can't Hollywood make better movies? Instead of throwing millions of dollars at a formulaic rehash, why not just take a chance on an original script? I know that there are good screenwriters out there who are coming up with unconventional, creative scripts. I just don't get it.

Mr. Happy

Our neighbor's garage still sports those smiley faces, and amazingly they haven't been defaced by graffiti. We've found out that everybody on the block pretty much likes them, in fact people have been getting their picture taken in front of them. I guess the garage is earning something of a reputation. The other day (while we were out, of course) our neighbor, Jarvis, was outside with his tiny puppy, America. He noticed a bunch of people in front of the garage getting their photos taking. "Looks like a rock band," he thought to himself. Then teeny America slipped through the fence and ran over to the people in front of the garage. One of them scooped him up, and as Jarvis walked up to them he noticed that it was a rock band. Anthony Kiedis was holding America, and Jarvis snapped a photo with his cell phone of the Chili Peppers as they posed in front of our smiley faces! Of all the graffiti on all of the derelict garages in all of the gnarly alleys in all of the funky neighborhoods in all of Los Angeles, The Chilli Peppers chose ours for a photo shoot. Pretty cool... And if you happen to live in Los Angeles, you just may soon come across this same blue smiley face covering some hideous billboard in your daily travels.

Field of Wheat

A few years ago, Sparky's dear old friend, Poppy, who lives in Rushville, told us a story about his father that I still think about from time to time. Apparently Poppy's dad was a crumgdeon and a misanthropic ass who didn't really like very many people. Including two of his own children, but that's another story. Anyway, one night years ago, Poppy, his girlfriend Sammie from the Big City (that would be Indianapolis), and his family were eating dinner. Most likely it was Sunday supper as the whole family was there. They started talking about politics and an argument insued. It got pretty heated, as these types of conversations often do. Poppy and Sammy from the Big City were of course taking a liberal bent, while some of the others at the table were a bit more moderate. Poppy's father was not only a malcontent, he was a hugely conservative one. Apparently Poppy's father didn't say anything at all during this conversation. Which was normal because on top of it all, he was a fairly taciturn man. As things got more heated, Poppy's dad suddenly said, "Field of wheat, field of wheat. I wish I was in a field of wheat!" Everyone stopped and looked at him, and he just continued eating his good supper as though he hadn't just said something out of the blue. The conversation started up again, and that was that. This has always stuck with me, Sparky, too, and when we are both in situation we don't fancy this sentiment comes to mind. Field of wheat. Field of wheat. I wish I was in a Field of Wheat!

God's Gym

My friend and I joined a gym today, which kind of shocked me as I'm not really the gym joining type. But I've been taking a P.E. course this semester, circuit training, which I really enjoy. In fact it's my most favorite class (of all time!) and an easy A to boot. I've really gotten into the various exercise and weight lifting machines, especially the Ellipitical. I like watching its little computer tell me how many steps I've taken and how many calories I've burned. A woman in my class told me about a budget priced gym not too far from where I live and I decided to check it out as the price seemed right to this Miser. The gym is part of a church called the Dream Center, and it's actually named The Lord's Gym. I really think that it should be called "God's Gym" instead, as I like the alliteration, but oh well. You don't have to be a member of the flock to join, thankfully. It's clean and everything, but a bit on the funky side as some of the machines are out of order. I guess the lord is more concerned with saving souls than with helping people get into shape. But like I said, the price is right so we signed ourselves up. We are going to try to go twice a week, and are looking forward to working out at the Lord's Gym. Amen.

Hot Tub Time Machine!

Last night, Sparky and I saw one of the worst movies ever made with one of the best titles ever: Hot Tub Time Machine. Maybe it's because I had such a hellish week, but when Sparky told me he rented Hot Tub Time Machine, I knew that I would watch it in its entirety no matter how dreadful it was. I needed escapism! I needed to watch a movie about time travel that took place in a hot tub! And even though it was a sadly bad movie, I made Sparky watch the whole thing with me. The title is so awesome! The movie does not live up to its name. Sparky thought it was going to be straight up slapstick, but it turned out to more of a post modern type comedy with not a lot of yucks but rather some mildly amusing bits here and there. There is time travel, however. That takes place in a hot tub. At least Nicolas Cage was not in it, because that would have been a deal breaker. (Krispin Glover has a small part in it, and I do like that him even though he is a bit of a wing nut.)

While we were watching this movie, Sparky could not help comparing it to other comedies, and he started getting all nostalgic for W.C. Fields. Sleeford loved W.C. Fields, and had all of his old movies on DVD, which he loaned to Sparky. They both admired his drunken curmudgeon character, and how he always worked to great effect with children and animals, two of the most notoriously difficult creatures to work with in film. Sparky wished that Hot Tub Time Machine was more like a W.C. Fields movie. Or like the Stooges. I remember when Bee was about seven weeks old there was a Three Stooges Movie Marathon showing on some local station during Memorial Day Weekend. Bee was still in that little newborn stage of waking up every four hours or so for a diaper change, formula, diaper change, and then back to sleep again for another four hours or so. And Sparky and I were both in that sleep depraved stage you get in with infants where your days and night become the same. So we took care of our little Bee and watched the Three Stooges. All weekend long. And we laughed our asses off. I remember we finally took a break to go to the grocery store for some much needed sustenance, and while we there all we did was talk about the Three Stooges (while Bee slept in her little car seat on top of the cart.) We must have been really tired. But to this day, Curly, Larry, Moe, Shemp, babies, and not enough sleep - they seem to all go hand in hand for me.

Anyway, when it is all said and done, I am glad that I finally saw Hot Tub Time Machine. Our friend Buddy predicted that it would do really well when it was first released (strictly because of the title) but it did not and I can see why. But still, if I ever went back in time in a hot tub, I would surely watch Hot Tub Time Machine once again.