Emenies

Luke has a hard time with the word "enemies" over and over he says "emenies." Just yesterday he tried three times to say it and it came out "emenies" three times. Exasperated, he finally said, "our friends on the other team."

Tummy Troubles

Isaac was sick on Thursday night and all day Friday. He threw up once, and had a noticeable fever.

We were trying to proceed cautiously with him today even though he was feeling better.

At dinner he was eating a hot dog when he started complaining that his tummy hurt. He was literally screaming and groaning as if he was in terrible agony. Instantly, Bek picks him up and rushes him into the bathroom so he can throw up in the potty.

NOOOO! I DON'T NEED TO THROW UP! AHHHHH! MY TUMMY HURTS!!!

Then all of a sudden...

BUUURRRPPP!

"I didn't know that burp was on it's way."

Strange Sight

I saw the strangest car. Well, nothing so strange about the car itself. It was some sort of Nissan minivan.

You know how cars have the dealer printed on the corner of the trunk? This one said, "Jidahu Tokyo." Okay, so you don't run across too many cars bought in Tokyo, but it got weirder. The license plate holder said "Juarez Co" and it had Mexican license plates. So, it's a Mexican car bought in Tokyo.

To top it all off, I expected the driver to look either Mexican or Japanese. Nope. Plain, boring white person.

Then I said what you are all thinking...

"The Japexicans are taking over this place."

The Greatest Week of the Year

We are 23 hours into the greatest week of the year. Is it my birthday week (a Cowell family tradition)? Nope. Anniversary? Huh-uh. Raise week? Shark week? Trade sides of the bed week? None of the above.

It's Fantasy Football Draft Week. The "War Room" officially opened its doors last week with the annual dusting off of the Fantasy Football Database. This glorious apparatus of modern technology is the basis for all things Fantasy Football. It is a compilation of every NFL player's statistics from the prior year.

It's breadth is unparalleled. It's applications too numerous to comprehend: Strength of Schedule metrics, Value additivity analysis, Cost-replacement measurement , and bonafide, baby-proof contraception.

And as a pre-emptive measure - not like this will surprise any of the loyal followers of my sporadically updated blog - don't expect blogging for the next 145 hours.

After all, there are autoregressive correlations to calculate.

Happy Birthday Jeremy!

My brother-in-law turns 30 today. So instead of a typical Happy Birthday e-mail, I thought I would tell the blogging world what I love about Jeremy.

He's a great uncle

Uncle Jer-Bear really dotes on his nephews and loves to play with them. And they love him. For example, Uncle Jer-Bear has shelled out over $40 buying Star Wars figures for his nephew Luke, just so he could have toys to play with while they watch Star Wars together. And he's let us invade his house until after 11:00 at night watching the movies. Oh, and he learned how to juggle just so he could impress his nieces and nephews. He's a great uncle.

He's the glue that hold us together
Jeremy and I play on the worship team together, and while we can function without any of us, Jeremy is the hardest to replace. He is a very talented drummer, which makes him the coolest of us by far. I can't tell you how much I appreciate him and how talented he is.

He's my best friend.
I love to talk baseball with him, but it's not your typical talk. More like, how we can't stand Craig Counsell, or Craig Biggio. Come to think of it, how many Craigs do you like? Probably none.

He's also my personal iTunes service. If I don't know a song, I'll sing a few bars for him and he'll say, that's "The Fog by the band Cumberland. Did you know that their bassist, Neal O'Hara, also can't stand Craig Counsell" (I made up that song and band by the way). Hey, "The Way" is a song, by "Fastball." Thanks JB!

There are so many things I love about my brother-in-law its impossible to write them all down.

But there is one more thing that I love. He's 30!

Adam the Ficus

I have a cousin, Todd, who is 64 days younger than me. We rarely got along well - being so close in age. I often got jealous of him, and his awesomeness, like being over 5-foot-7, and not having to drive our Grandma's car because his parents gave him a vintage Mustang convertible instead of handing him down an '81 Buick. Things like that.

But at no time was I more jealous than December, 1976. That's when he got a baby brother, Adam. I didn't have an Adam and I wanted one. But Grandma's aren't just good for '81 Buicks. No, Grandma brought the goods. I got a My Buddy doll. I named him Adam. I carried him by his hair until all that remained were a few synthetic strands of nylon and craters that looked like failed hair plugs.

22 years later, and it's time to name my pet ficus. HEY! PLANTS ARE LIVING THINGS! You CAN name them! Quite frankly, there was only one name that conjures the same, lifelong affection of a best friend. Adam. My Buddy. My Tree.

If I weren't an actuary...

I often wonder what I'd be if I weren't a mathmagician.

I've narrowed it down to 5 occupations

5) Horticulturist. I already know all about mowing grass and once, after nearly killing my ficus tree - seriously it was down to 1 leaf - I grew it 'til it was almost 6 feet tall. I named my tree Adam. If you want to know why, you'll have to come back to Classic Anecdotes again. Oh, my dumb cat killed it when she peed on it. I killed euthanized her.

4) Author. Not like big books. But like children's stories. Pickles the Dragon is a classic example. Pickles cooks all the pizza at the big festival.

3) Action Movie Star. Beneath these boyish good looks, easy going attitude and 30 lbs of flab is a bad-ass. Ask that dumb cat. That's right, she's dead. 'Nuff said.

2) Accountant. This would have never worked. I couldn't handle being made fun of by the actuaries.

1) Christian Rock Star. This may still happen. I am looking for an agent, some other guys to join in, and some talent.

Luckily, the world knows me as an actuary where I can bless the world as *"a person who calculates insurance and annuity premiums, reserves, and dividends."

* Special thanks to m-w.com for that definition

My Sister-in-law is a ...

HO BAG!

I came home yesterday from a hard day of actuary-ing to find a positive pregnancy test sitting neatly on the top of the trash.

I do a double take - 'cause why is it in the trash? Then I'm like, who's that ho sleeping with?!?!

Then it becomes obvious that the pregnancy test is marked "+" in a black sharpie pen. All my sister-in-law's idea.

HO BAG!

So that's where this goes?

I sweat. A lot. I sweat in the dead of winter. But now it's summer and it's a whole new kind of sweat. I'm like the Tiger Woods of perspiration.

I sweat all over the place, even in sensitive areas.

So I go to Target and pick up a little antifungal spray to help give me some relief. I buy Lotrimin.

Thankfully, the graphic artists over there at Schering-Plough HealthCare Products Inc. give you all the info you need to use jock itch spray.

As if the yellow highlighting didn't give it away, they graciously added bullseye circles and four arrows.

Phew! And to think I almost used that on my feet.

Nerdy or Not Nerdy?

Today was the company picnic. I entered the Dunk Tank contest as a thrower. We throw from 30 feet away at a target smaller than a dinner plate.

1st shot: near miss.
2nd shot: DING! Bullseye! HIT THE CENTER BOLT that bolts the target on the arm.

I win a prize.

The prize I choose? A Rubik's Cube.

So, does the nerdiness of a Rubik's Cube overtake the jock-iness of pinpoint accuracy?

It's your call America. Nerdy or Not Nerdy?

The 5 Worst Candy Bars

If you think that all candy bars are great, you're wrong. Sorry Charlie.

I've probably spent nearly $1000 over my lifetime buying junk food out of vending machines and I'll tell you the worst and the best. $1000! It's amazing I'm not fatter than I already am!

I digress. They have to be a real candy bar, that is, having a bar shape, or else Milk Duds would top the list. M&M's Rice, you should be thankful too. If not for the bar shape pre-requisite you'd be here too.

Now...the worst candy bars.

5) Almond Joy - More like "Almond well, I guess things could be worse"

4) Milky Way - Chocoloate: good. Caramel: good. Nougat: good. Chocolate + Caramel + Nougat: not so much.

3) Baby Ruth - Caddyshack ruined it. Not even the Goonies can bring it back.

2) Mounds - Chocolate and coconut. COCONUT. It's like they didn't even try.

1) Bit O Honey - My Grandma gave me this once. You trust Grandma. Shame on you Grandma.

The Fearsome Sith Lord

Luke is infatuated with Star Wars ever since he watched the 1977 original with uncle Jer-Bear. Tonight he put on his Batman and Robin raincoat and grabbed his pool toy sword and came downstairs

I'm Dark Vader.

Funny, I always pictured the most celebrated villian of all time a little more menacing.

Information Security Week

So on Sunday, we're leaving Poppy and Nana's. Like most Sundays, Bek and I drove our own car. I take Mary to the the van (aka Rebekah's car), and since Rebekah is lagging behind a bit, carrying the rest of the stuff, I decide to turn on the car and get the AC going so Mary doesn't roast in the car.

Once Bek comes out, I start to remove my keys. "Just leave them in there and use my keys for your car," she suggests.

"No. I better not. I have the key to my desk at work on this keychain. If I don't take them now, I'll forget and take your keys to work tomorrow and be locked out of my desk."

So out come my keys, in go Rebekah's and we're on our merry way.

The I arrive at work Monday morning and get ready to open the drawers to my desk. I have my keys, but the key to my desk is missing anyway, having fallen off the cheap key ring I used to connect it to the main keychain.

So, ironically enough, I'm still locked out of my desk, despite my attempt no to.

Even more ironic is that, Monday marked the beginning of Information Security week. The week where we re-emphasize safeguarding our data, by say, keeping track of the keys to your desk.

Update: I found my key in my pants pocket at home Monday night.

The Kiwi Conspiracy

I was getting dressed for work this morning...tying my shoes when, "SNAP!" my shoelace breaks. I was already ready to walk out the door - except for my shoes. No way I'm changing pants and my shirt to match a different pair of dress shoes - not at this point.

I did what any reasonable man would do and re-fit the laces so they could still tie a bow knot and went to work. I planned on getting new laces on my lunch break.

At lunch, I went to Target to buy the laces. They were easily found and just $1.79. Fair price...or so I thought.

I don't know if you have bought shoelaces recently, but I have, and done it twice. I've become aware this is the biggest ripoff in free-market capitalism. I don't know of any other company that makes shoelaces. Kiwi is your only choice. They have monopolized shoelaces. What kind of sick bastards set out to monopolize shoelaces?

Anyway, back to the story...

And what do you get for your $1.79? Two pairs of laces. Now I like a good bargain and getting two-for-one is usually a good deal. But just how often do shoelaces break? Really? I will have long grown tired of seeing a spare pair of brown dress laces cluttering my clutter drawer to wait for them to become useful again. They will be thrown out after 8-12 months of non-use. And I'll forget I even had a spare pair at the time when I need them again.

So essentially I pay double what I need to pay.

And it's not as if there is any reasonable explanation to pack 4 brown dress laces in one package is there? Say I had a shoelace fetish and wanted two pair. If they were packaged at 1-pair per pack, couldn't I buy two packs? For the common sense man who wants just one pair of laces - he's out of luck.

This is just another example of how the corporate big shots stick it to the workin' man. Shame on you Kiwi. Shame on you.

Scratching a 10-year itch

When it comes to battles of passive-aggressive comments, I don't measure up. It's not as though I'm unable to grasp the concept, it's just my wife has a lot more ammunition than I. You see, I mess up. A lot. Wife comes home with a new haircut...I don't notice. Housework that needs done...it can wait. It's like I lay my own minefield.

But I got my shot and I didn't waste it.

We were packing for St. Louis two weeks ago and Rebekah was in charge of...well, everything...(see, I told you I give her a lot of ammo), so she was in charge of packing the cocktail of meds. "I've got Advil, Tylenol, ... , but I couldn't find the Zantac."

I moved the Aleve, and there, in plain sight, the Zantac.

It was just a little opening, but I nailed it!

"You have to move things."

Mission accomplished.

The Mighty Dinos

I decided to coach my 3-year-old's soccer team, The Mighty Dinos, this spring. No prob. It's a simple game. No hands.


Kids love to run. Kids love to kick. Kids love to run and kick. Kids should LOVE soccer.


They don't. In fact, they would rather do just about everything besides play soccer.


Some enjoy standing. Take my son for example. When the whistle blew to start our very first game, he yawned - nothing exciting here. In fact, he pulled his arms and head inside his jersey, then ran around like a chicken with its head and wings cut off.


Others enjoy eating. Halftime is snack time. One of my boys refuses to play until he finishes all his halftime snacks. If I put him on the field he'll soon disappear and I'll find him on the sideline with his parents, cheeks packed with grapes. Then there was the time one of my kids brought his apple slice onto the field. Knowing it's a choking danger, I took it from him and gave it to his dad on the sideline to finish later. Big mistake. You'd have thought I had told him the Wonder Pets couldn't save Santa. There were huge tears, screaming, no more soccer for him that day, he was done.

But best of all, through 3-year-old soccer, I've gotten a creator's view of the beginning of the universe. At each kickoff, I have 5 little persons assembled in tight quarters. I call this phenomenon "Matter." Then something happens - it could be a whistle, or a kick, but something happens and these 5 particles all shoot off in different directions at the speed of light. I call each kickoff "the Big Bang."

Some form into some sort of ordered particles that chase the ball, most form into unordered chaos, that I must get out of the woods, detangle from soccer nets, or off the fence.

If you want to coach 3-year-old soccer you must be a master motivator and have the patience of Job. A rudimentary knowledge of astro-physics wouldn't hurt either.

Go Mighty Dinos!

Back in the Saddle

I admit. There has been a renaissance in blogging in my family. I first mentioned wanting to update mine a few weeks ago, but I really wasn't serious.

Now my brother-in-law and sister-in-law have beaten me to the punch. I am admittedly following their lead.

But I have had alot on my mind lately that I'd like to share. Things like the top 5 denominations of paper bills...

So here they are...

5) $5. This bill makes me sad. I feel poor when I pull out a $5, it's as if that is all the money you have. In a way, it is...no matter what you buy with a 5, your change back is almost nothing, leaving you hopeless.

4) $10. Admit it. You stilll like that Bennigan's jingle.

3) $2. This bill is unique, but it's uniqueness makes it obsolete. Yeah it's cool to have one, but you never want to spend it, so it's like throwing $2. And that isn't cool.

2) $1. The most versatile bill. You can use it for tolls, soda, Reese's, and putting in the offering plate. Fold up two $1's creatively and it looks like you put a lot in the offering plate - which is handy when you need to try to impress the Creator.

1) $100. It's all about the Benjamins. No other denomination carries the prestige of century bill. It's been made into movies, and referenced by J. Lo. Clearly the penultimate.