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Archive for August 7th, 2006

A Barry By Any Other Name (repost from danleone.com)

Posted by danleone on August 7th, 2006

OK, if Larry is short for Lawrence and Harry is short for Harold, then why isn’t Barry short for Bawrence or Barold?

I’m A Hypocrit…and You?

Posted by danleone on August 7th, 2006

I call myself a runner and yet I can only run 2 miles without wheezing. I call myself a vegetarian though I eat meat. I call myself an atheist though I question the morality of abortion. I call myself a bleeding-heart liberal though I think all politicans are whores by definition. I call myself a rationalist though most decisions are made with my heart. I call myself a writer and am afraid to sit down to write a word. I call myself smart because I know how stupid I am. I call myself a parent though I am usually a child. I hate the overuse of the pronoun “I” in blogs and every sentence in this post begins with it.

Question to anyone reading: Do you live the life you have painted in your head?

…and How Was Your Night?

Posted by danleone on August 7th, 2006
(My apologies to Megan. It was simply a cut-and-paste)

Preface:

In my back yard, there is a small wooded area. There is a treehouse back there (though not officially attached to any tree). The treehouse has a few stairs to climb, then a door and on the other side, a slide for my brood to use to entertain themselves for a solid 15 seconds per week. Close to the treehouse, is a hammock that I strung between two trees in order to entertain myself for the entire 15 seconds that my spawn are using the slide.

The cell phone I use never had reception in the house (because apparently it was once a lead-lined bunker).

I needed to make an important phone call late at night.

Story:

I was lying in the hammock around midnight one night staring at the two stars I can see in the city. I was on the phone. A few minutes into the call, I looked up and sharing the hammock with me was a raccoon as big as a Buick. I didn’t want to appear like a girly man on the phone call, so I didn’t say a word as I calmly stood to leave a warm spot and a giant ‘assdentation’ for the racoon to rest. I then noticed that my path leading back to my house, was blocked by the mamma ‘coon and her two babies. So, remaining very calm, I climbed into my son’s treehouse and shut the door behind me. At no point did I even pause in my conversation.

Now I am in my son’s treehouse when I heard the pappa ‘coon climb the steps to the door, so I put my entire body weight against the door while pappa scratched away at it for a few minutes. I could hear the kids playing at the bottom of the slide; screeching in utter delight as pappa cornered his prey. Did I mention that I am on the phone? I am trying to act all cool but my voice was beginning to expose that I am a raccoonophobe. Did I mention it was dark?

Approximately 10 minutes of pappa scratching on the door with little success, he decided to try an alternate route…the slide. Pappa kicked the children off the slide who were beginning to get bored that their dinner was not going to succumb without a fight. Pappa, not having studied physics, did not take into account the coefficient of friction between the plastic slide and fur. He kept coming up and then sliding back down, each time a tad more frustrated.

My pending demise fortified me and I began an ancient Native American animal-spirit-exorcism song, which, only coincidentally, sounded like a twelve year old girl screaming. Did I mention that raccoons are deaf?

Another 10 minutes of the raccoon walking up the slide about 2 feet and then sliding off at terminal velocity (funny in retrospect) coupled with my yelping, made for an interesting phone conversation. Did I mention it was an important call?

The babies were losing faith in their father as mamma scolded them for laughing at him. At some point it was obvious that the family was huddled together under the treehouse discussing their next moves. I think I heard pappa say “OK, you dress up as a lion and he will pass out from fear. Then we will eat like kings.”

While they were under me, I decided to make my great escape. I had it all planned out. I inched my way over to the slide, cellphone still in hand and at just the right moment, I launched myself down the slide. Approximately six inches into my escape, my rump became wedged in the slide and I was barred from forward progress. I stood up, ran down the slide and ran to the house. From the comforts of my porch, I could see the four pairs of glow-in-the-dark eyes looking at me saying “what a loser.”

Did I mention I live in the city?

10 Things You Don’t Know and Don’t Care About Me

Posted by danleone on August 7th, 2006

1. I am an atheist. God simply does not exist. Any argument that doesn’t address “first cause” is not an argument. No books, no “authorities” in the name of pastors, ministers, priests etc, no mythological stories and no quasi-historical figures can be factored into the equation. BUT, believe it or not, I am not an angry atheist. I was never touched by a priest. God was not the cause of 9-11 and he is not the solution. I have to, and do, accept that others believe differently. In fact many of these people are those that I love and respect dearly. But, in my little head, the sentence “I believe in god” is exactly equivalent to “I believe in giant purple bunnies living in my butt.” Hard for me to wrap my head around it. I am not trying to be arrogant or smug; simply stating some relevant and not interesting stuff about me. My opinion until I change it.

2. I cannot tolerate superstitions (reduntant, as I don’t see much difference between 1 and 2. From the ubiquitous “god bless you” when someone sneezes to baseball players wearing the same socks for “good luck.” I would happily walk under a ladder with an open umbrella while breaking thirteen mirrors, stepping on a sidewalk crack and watching a black cat prance by me in order to prove it to you.

3. There is very little room in my world for people who believe in the supernatural. There is no astrology, no psychic ability, no afterlife, no soul, no aliens visiting from outer space, no John Edwards and his ilk, no palmistry, numerology, tarot and no telekinesis. There is no such thing as good or bad luck or fate. The problem is that I lose a bit of respect for people that do believe in that junk.

4. Despite all the above, this will be the first time I admit that I cried when I walked into the Vatican about 8 years ago. I am still stunned by the majesty of it all. I was transfixed by the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel and my favorite work of art is Mozart’s Requiem. All beautiful expressions of HUMAN creativity and NOT divine inspiration.

5. If, huge if, I were smarter and 20 years old, I would be studying astronomy or mathematics.

6. Much less dramatic: I hate balloons. I think I fear them. I hate when the kids have a birthday party and I need to blow them up. I cringe at the mere thought of the sound and fear the snapping rubber hitting my face when it explodes. My kids hate it because my balloons are wimpy 6 inches in diameter.

7. I NEVER EVER read the fortune in a fortune cookie. No good reason other than it is pointless. Interestingly, there are many other “pointless” things I do in life, so I am not sure why the need to make a statement with fortune cookies.

8. I am a bleeding heart Liberal and am still stunned that people voted for, and still defend, George Bush.

9. I pay attention to sports just barely enough to allow me a chance at a resaonable conversation.

10. I used to be a raw food vegan and when I was, I never felt better physically. I ran 4 of my 5 marathons as a vegan and never had so much energy. I even miss it. BUT, I am a million miles and 50 pounds away from those days. Food is an addiction, just as cigarette smoking is.

and one more for good luck:

11. I can’t stand practial jokes. I don’t care if they happen to me, but I hate setting people up or watching people get set up. I do not watch Candid Camera, Punk’d, or that show where people try to get themselves fired. In fact, this has been to my detriment because it also means that I hate giving surprise parties. It is not that a joke is bad in and of itself or mean-spirited, it is I hate seeing people in a state if unknowing while the rest of the world does know. I really do not know the psychology of it all but I bet it could be interesting.