Lamest. Reunion. Ever.

My high school class was pretty lame, and as far as I know, never got it together to have a reunion. The school itself is long-defunct. I just got an e-vite for our 30th anniversary reunion. The same pattern from high school is holding.

• '76 - a very cool class, people I looked up to, and their 30th reunion sounded really cool with a more formal evening and a picnic the next day. Only The Blog Knows Brooklyn got a lot of mileage blogging her reunion planning, the actual event, and aftermath. Of course, OTBKB is a very engaging writer and it was a fun read, especially since I knew her classmates.
• '77 - not quite as cool as '77 but still cool, and their 30th reunion was an evening in someone's apartment
• '78 - lame, and the reunion is going to be in the afternoon in the same building that housed our former school. Sounds absolutely craptastic.

I am blessed with my daughters' gymnastics show that afternoon, and have a handy excuse to avoid this event. Maybe I can sit in my basement office, flip through my yearbook, and read OTBKB again. At some point my flashback will be interruped by one of my kids showing me his or her latest creation in GarageBand or iMovie.

I grew up. My kids are growing up. It's good to be alive. End of story.

State of war

A state of war now exists between the rats and me.

The upstairs rats are adorable pets for the wife & kids, but the downstairs rats are destructive beyond belief.

A couple of days ago I noticed water on my basement floor. I quickly figured out that it was coming from the condensate pump on the furnace. After making a call and finding out it was $99 for a tech to come out, I took a closer look at the pump. The drain tube leading from the furnace to the pump had been chewed away above the pump, no doubt by a varmint looking for a water supply. It was an easy repair, and I had the right tube on hand.

As Bugs Bunny (and Groucho Marx) was known to say, "Of course, you know, this means war."

Technorati tags: rats

Yum-o!

I'm concerned about what my children eat for snacks.



Exhibit A: Oreo Snack Packs. Exhibit B: Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo.

Separated at birth? You decide.

Technorati tags: Mr. Hankey, Oreos

Victim Worship

One of these is real; one is satire. Which one is funnier?

World Society of Victimology

Dr. Sanity's Practical Guide to Victimhood

Technorati tags: victimhood, victimology, Marxism, fetish

MF'n Grinches

From Seattle:

All Holiday trees at Sea-Tac Airport were removed this morning after several community member complaints. They say the trees don't represent all cultures and religions...The trees will not go up again...the airport policy on decorations will be reviewed after the holidays.

I don't celebrate Christmas, but this is beyond stupid. The Winter Solstice is a time to celebrate the return of sunlight, whether or not the trees are associated specifically with Christmas. I enjoy the decorations. The complaining community members would do well to impale themselves on a nice, sharp tree. Does anybody know who they are? Does anybody CAIR?

UPDATE: The person complaining was identified as "a Seattle rabbi with the Central Organization for Jewish Learning who hired an attorney and threatened to sue if the airport did not erect an eight-foot menorah...." I couldn't find an organization by that name, but I did find Chabad-Lubavitch Central Organization for Jewish Education. Chabad puts up those humongous menorahs on town greens. They're usually pretty cool, but somebody is not playing well with others.

UPDATE: CNN has more. Even Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky, who made the original request, is upset. (It didn't help that he lawyered up.) The Port of Seattle apparently fears problems with identity politics and grievance mongering, and decided to remove all decorations.

Technorati tags: Chabad, Seattle, Sea-Tac, identity politics

The high school popularity contest continues

I got the latest email from Classmates.com today. I have had 23 visits to my profile.

Lifetime.

I registered about ten years ago.

The funniest part is viewing my profile. It lists my various communities, and there are a couple of stretches not associated with anything. They list the range of years and ask "Where were you?"? Believe me, if I could either remember or wanted to admit to it, I would have posted it.

I've Googled some of my high school classmates. The comparison is not pretty. Some of them are successful. Then there are others whose claim to fame lies within the grimy studio walls of an obscure noncommercial radio station. I may be an unpopular fuck-up, but I certainly enjoy doing radio at equally unpopular WPKN.

Don't forget to hit the tip jar.

Technorati tags: classmates