And we are back my good and faithful Minions. If some of you had lost faith that old Scarydad was going to pull it together, you were pretty close to correct. It’s been one hell of a busy-ass year. But listening to me gripe about stuff is not why you came to my little cabin in the woods, now, is it? Here I present you with your long awaited midweek Weirdness. Stay tuned for some news and updates as well as some freshly-minted movie reviews. But all that is still to come. For now, enjoy the strange…
I’ve always been a reader. For as long as I can remember I’ve had a book or two or more in “currently reading” status with another bunch on Mount To-Be-Read. Since the minions came around, a large part of my reading has moved formats to audio books or podcasts, but nevertheless, I still consume a tremendous amount of story on a daily basis.
Unfortunately, high school English did a really good job of making me hate what could be called “literature.” To this day I have an unrelenting distaste for Dickens. It was also in high school that I actually got into trouble for enjoying Beowulf. I could read and understand the story without listening to the teacher fail to explain the importance of meter and rhyme. This, an ancient story carried through the generations by people who couldn’t read, and I got a verbal reprimand for being able to read it. Go figure Continue reading
When I was in the eighth grade I went to a high school talent show. Some kid I knew had an older brother who was performing and a bunch of us went to see them play. The band’s one and only song was a cover of Just Like Heaven. Now, that was a song that had been in heavy rotation on the radio so I was plenty familiar with both the song and the band that played it. But I remember sitting there that night in the school auditorium and being totally blown away. The next day I rode my bike to K-Mart and bought Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me on cassette. Continue reading
Seems a couple months went by without me noticing. I don’t know how that happens. Years ago I was listening to Coast to Coast with Art Bell and the guest he had that night explained that the world was like a tape dispenser and that over time the years peel off and leave a smaller roll that then peels off faster and faster till the inevitable end. According to this guest, we were in the really fast part of the peel and heading for oblivion.
I don’t know if that’s true, but everything sue seems faster since Sequel came to live with us. Seems I’m twice as busy, time travels twice as fast, and I get half as much done. Oh well. The half I get done is pretty cool, so I guess I can’t complain.
So what has happened since last we spoke?
Summer hit like a bomb. It’s so hot and sticky and buggy here that I’m pretty much banished from the shop until September. I have taken a renewed interest in my comic book collection and have begun to acquire several old horror comics from the 70’s. That’s been a lot of fun.
I’ve been watching Daredevil on Netflix. I can only marathon an episode or two at a time because small children monopolize the television. but I like it. You should check it out.
Sequel got glasses and she is the cutest little kid ever to do the zombie walk across the living room.
I’ve still been working on that damn book. That’s where I’ve been and that’s what I do. But where here I tend to write rather quickly, over there I write slow as hell. I’ve tried all the techniques to get me over the slow writing syndrome, but I think it’s just how I do it. I’ll muddle through this one and then the second one will go faster and the third faster still, and on and on until I’m the fastest and bestest book writer on the planet. But for now, I’m still doing the slow thing.
Well, that’s it for now. It was nice talking to you.
The kids got swings for Christmas. The idea was to tie ropes from the giant oak tree out back and they would have hours of fun and so that’s what we did. I borrowed a ladder that wasn’t long enough, then used a wrench tied to the end of the rope and twirled the damn thing all afternoon until I finally got them in place. It was not a fun project at all, but it was worth it to see the smiles on my little minions’ faces.
Then came the squirrel.
I tied the swings up using rope passed through a slip knot, leaving about six inches on the short end to ensure the knots wouldn’t slip. Little did I know that some bastard squirrel was going to chew that rope off right at the knot and use it to make a nest. I saw him doing it and even tried to throw things at him but the branch was too damn high. He got away with the safety end of the rope and I’d been wondering if and when that knot was going to give ever since. It gave on Saturday as Bride swung on it, just a few minutes before the sink collapsed.
Well, since I’d already anticipated the thing breaking, I had a plan in place to get it back up. I went inside, grabbed my bow, then I taped a length of twine to an arrow and then shot that mofo over the branch. Damned if I was going to stand there trying to lob a flippin’ wrench straight up for a half-hour again.
It worked and now Spawn’s swing is fully operational once more.
That’s how we get stuff done around here.
Mine was 1/2 excellent and 50% pure suck. Here’s why.
On Saturday, a bunch of people from work came over and we had a big crawfish boil. Food and drinks were plentiful and everyone had a great time. They even helped clean up such that at the end of it all, Bride and I only had a few dishes and a couple little things here and there to pick up. Then everything suddenly went very, very wrong.
As I was scrubbing a particularly stubborn splotch of
blood cheese off the bottom of the sink, there was a crunch sound followed by the sink collapsing into the cabinet below. Well, not completely, but enough to know that something was totally messed up.
Upon further investigation I discovered that whoever installed the sink merely used glue to mount it to the granite counter top, eschewing any of the clips or mounts or other things that might prevent a sink from collapsing into the cabinetry below.
So, 3/4 + 25% drunk and tired from a day of entertaining, I left it for the morning. But of course, it kept creeping into my mind, as in, “Ah man, what a nice day, such great friends, great food, and a killer buzz. Why do I feel so down? Oh, yeah. That…”
Sunday morning, Bride took Spawn to see a movie and I got to work. Luckily, I had help from my father-in-law. We spent the day cleaning and scraping old glue and silicone from the underside of the granite as well as building supports for the damn thing.
One thing I can say for the people who installed this thing, they at least sprung for the good glue. That stuff took FOREVER to remove. The bastards.
So, after half my day spent leaning over, cleaning old glue from the underside of the counter, and the other half spent inside the cabinet attempting to put screws into places that had an almost cosmic resistance to screws, my back got pretty torqued up and now I’m sitting on an ice pack.
How was your weekend?
(This series originally appeared at dumbwhitehusband.com)
Friday afternoon, around 5:30. I crack open the first beer of the weekend. The baby sits in her high-chair across the table. She flashes me a grin and waves her arms. She’s happy to see me. I make faces at her and she giggles. I’m happy to see her too. My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket.
“Totally 80’s Party” at House of Blues Tonight at 9:30pm
I clear the message and take a sip of my beer.
In a few hours, my friends will take the stage at House of Blues; one of the most popular and respected venues in town. Tonight they will play to several hundred if not more than a thousand people. These days when they play, they sell out venues and command exorbitant fees. It wasn’t always this way.
My three-year-old comes in and asks if she can watch a movie. I set up her DVD for her and then grab one of my guitars and play around a little. I’m terribly out of practice. I strum a few clumsy chords before giving up and putting it away. The baby’s starting to get tired of being in her chair anyway and it’s time to start dinner. I take another sip of beer and think back.
Friday nights are a lot different than they used to be.
Part 1: So you want to be a rock and roll star…
There comes a time in every man’s life when he seriously contemplates one of two crazy ideas. The first of these is “I should open a bar!” And the second is “We should start a band!”
Luckily, I’ve never had enough startup capital to open a bar. But I did learn how to play the guitar in hopes it would get me attention from girls. Once you can strum a few chords, you’re really just one song away from riches, fame, groupies and world tours. And it doesn’t even have to be a good song. I learned a lot about how just how bad some really popular songs are because I was in a local cover band for several years. It was at the same time one of the greatest and most frustrating projects I have ever been a part of.
Thinking of pulling the old axe out of the closet and getting a few players together for some Saturday night beer money? Sit back and let me tell you all about it.
The whole thing started one night when I was having drinks with my friend Dez. Dez had recently moved here from New Orleans where he had been part of a local party band called The Chixie Dix. NOLA was also a place where concepts like ‘party band’ existed because the people there like to party and have fun; unlike the people here. The idea we hatched that night was completely new for the Houston scene and would turn out to be an incredibly hard sell for a lot longer than we ever imagined it would be. Ironically, everybody now does what only we did then, so there’s that, but at the time we were pioneers. Pioneers who got weird looks all the time.
Dez and I enlisted my good friend T-Bag on bass, then set about advertising for players on Craigslist.
Costumed party/cover band seeks lead guitarist and drummer for local bar gigs and private parties. Yes, you read that right: we wear silly costumes, have goofy nicknames, and play popular cover songs from the 70’s through to today’s biggest hits. Must be able to practice 2-4 times per week and have professional equipment. Songs we play include…
This is a pretty straightforward ad, but the people who read and respond to musician ads are pretty much crazy. I would get phone calls from people asking what kind of band we were, if I wanted to join their band, if we could supply drums, or if we wanted to buy drugs. This guy called me once and I couldn’t get to the phone in time so I called him back immediately and he bitched at me for calling so late on a weeknight. It was only 8 pm. Then, when a conversation would go well and I thought we might have an audition lined up, the subject of the costumes came up and people would flip out. “Uh, I didn’t know about the costumes. That’s a bit wild for my taste. Thanks anyway.”
So, the three of us played together, compiled a list of songs, and began to work on what we would eventually become.
What happened next? Find out next time at scarydad.com
Hello there all my good and faithful Minions. I hope this weblog post finds you well. As you are aware, I had taken a little time off from regular posting. The holidays were tough and to be honest, I didn’t have much to say. I decided it was best to shutter the site for a little while and get my head back together.
In the meantime, I have actually been pleasantly busy with projects and such. I’ve written a couple of short stories that are in final edits at the moment, I’ve done quite a bit of miscellaneous woodworking stuff. I did a podcast episode with a friend and have been thinking of some ways to expand the Scarydad brand in coming months. Then it occurred to me that I probably ought to reach out and let you all know that I’m still here. Well, I am and if everything goes as planned, then you can expect regular posts again.
As always, we are open to submissions and project ideas from readers. If you have a great idea for a story, let me know at email@example.com.
Have a good evening. I look forward to talking with you soon.