Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com |
(HT M Squared T blog)
Sunday, June 25, 2006
"You cheated"....."Pirate"
I can't believe my 100th post on Bumbling Forward is gonna be one of these goofy "what would you be" things but I can't help myself. When I see one, I am compelled to find out what type of drink I am, or flavor of ice cream or in this case Super Hero. As it turns out I am most like Capt Jack with William Wallace and Maximus close behind
(HT M Squared T blog)
(HT M Squared T blog)
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Movie Quotes
My buddies from high school and I can carry on entire conversations without speaking an original word or uttering an original thought; not because we are incapable but because we love to quote movies. One of them, Slink, will call out of the blue, every so often and just say something like...."You ask for miracles Theo...I give you the F....B...I...." and I am obliged to reply something like "Yippee kaiyee Mother-'F'er" or another line from...come on now...Die Hard. Slink's wife, who is a very nice woman doesn't speak movie qoute. He needs to share with someone who will appreciate him on that level. That's why I'm here.
I had been married for roughly 2-3 years when my wife and I finally watched the movie Caddyshack together. It was the first time she had ever seen the movie. About half way through the movie she looked at me with this I caught you red-handed kinda grin.
"You're a jerk," she said
"Huh? What did I do?" I replied
"All this time I thought you were a funny guy when in reality all you have been doing is quoting this stupid movie."
I laughed sheepishly..."Yeah...what's your point?" I shot back rather pleased with myself.
You see there is a subtlety to correctly using a movie quote. Slipping a line into converstation, where if someone were paying enough attention and familiar enough with the line, they would reply with the next line of the movie. If the person on the other end of the conversation missed the reference, there might a be a brief pause, as if to ask with their eyes, "I'm sorry what was that?" If the line was subtle enough and appropriate enough the question never really gets asked.
Then there are those quotes that just get shouted out of nowhere for fun. Our friend Cynthia, lived with us for a couple of months, several years back. She and my wife our best friends. The two of them spent a lot of time watching A Few Good Men while she was here. There was an awful lot of:
"You want answers?"
" I want the truth."
"You can't handle the truth"
I have a new line to add to the databanks of favorites, from The Chronicles of the Narnia (as my four year old calls it) or the Chronic-what-cles of Narnia as my friends Chris Parnell and Andy Sandberg would call it.
Mr. Tumnus: (of Aslan) "He's not a tame lion."
Lucy Pevensie: "No... but he's good."
Do you speak Movie Quote?
I had been married for roughly 2-3 years when my wife and I finally watched the movie Caddyshack together. It was the first time she had ever seen the movie. About half way through the movie she looked at me with this I caught you red-handed kinda grin.
"You're a jerk," she said
"Huh? What did I do?" I replied
"All this time I thought you were a funny guy when in reality all you have been doing is quoting this stupid movie."
I laughed sheepishly..."Yeah...what's your point?" I shot back rather pleased with myself.
You see there is a subtlety to correctly using a movie quote. Slipping a line into converstation, where if someone were paying enough attention and familiar enough with the line, they would reply with the next line of the movie. If the person on the other end of the conversation missed the reference, there might a be a brief pause, as if to ask with their eyes, "I'm sorry what was that?" If the line was subtle enough and appropriate enough the question never really gets asked.
Then there are those quotes that just get shouted out of nowhere for fun. Our friend Cynthia, lived with us for a couple of months, several years back. She and my wife our best friends. The two of them spent a lot of time watching A Few Good Men while she was here. There was an awful lot of:
"You want answers?"
" I want the truth."
"You can't handle the truth"
I have a new line to add to the databanks of favorites, from The Chronicles of the Narnia (as my four year old calls it) or the Chronic-what-cles of Narnia as my friends Chris Parnell and Andy Sandberg would call it.
Mr. Tumnus: (of Aslan) "He's not a tame lion."
Lucy Pevensie: "No... but he's good."
Do you speak Movie Quote?
zzzzzzzzz..........
I dreamt last night. The subject of the dream is irrelevant. The point is that I dreamt. In the midst of my dream, I became I aware that I was dreaming. I was happy, almost blissful, in that moment in my dream. I knew that if I was dreaming that meant I was in a deep sleep.
I don't remember when I dreamt last. I don't remember the last good night's sleep I got. Last night I got both.
"come back here you rabbbbittt.....nighty night"
I don't remember when I dreamt last. I don't remember the last good night's sleep I got. Last night I got both.
"come back here you rabbbbittt.....nighty night"
Monday, June 12, 2006
Bubbles, bad guys, bubbles and blue skies
We spent a couple of hours over at friend's house ysterday afternoon. His wife was away so he was home alone with his two boys, ages 8 and 6 for the weekend. Doing more than the regular amount of Mr Mom activity lately, I felt for my friend. I called him on Saturday and left him a message asking if he wanted a break on Sunday afternoon. I told him Gail and I would bring our boys, whom I have affectionately been referring to as Kayos recently, over and play with his guys and he could go get a cup of coffee or take a nap or something. He called back and said that would be great.
It was an unbelievably gorgeous day. The kind of day that makes you think of every other beautiful day you've experienced. The memories seem to magnify the beauty of the now. It actually got to the point where Kayos actually had to ask Gail to stop saying "what a beautiful day it was."
We arrived at my friend's house, our boys bounded out of the car and his kids came leaping out the front door of their house. After the initial confusion, we got everyone settled in the back yard to jump off swings, not swing on mind you, but jump off of and climb trees and jump on trampolines and blow bubbles, and chase bad guys. My friend decided he would use his kid-free time to hang some wall paper and cut the front lawn. It wouldn't have been my choice with a few hours of babysitting time but hey, it's his time.
My friend's 6 year old, P. is an amazing little guy; blonde 1950's crew cut, thickly built, like a little linebacker, and full of energy and enthusiasm. He and I spent most of the afternoon blowing bubbles. I held a 32oz bottle of bubble juice that he would stick the bubble wand into and blow with all his might. Whether it was a two or twenty, the bubbles were shiny and no matter what shape they came out of the wand as, they ended up as perfect spheres.
Sometimes he would chase the bubbles and step on them, sometimes he would try to catch them in his mouth. Sometimes he would release the bubbles from the wand and they would take off on little gusts of wind and we would watch them float above the trees and dissapear into the perfectly blue sky.
Gail had the other three guys well in hand. They had moved onto riding bikes and big wheels on the front sidewalk. P. and I were still in the back yard blowing bubbles. Over the course of the afternoon, P. and I exchanged maybe three or four words. We didn't really need much more than that. We had the bubbles, the breeze, the blue sky; at the moment it seemed like all we needed. Unfortunately, those are all the words P. really has. You see he suffers from autism; a disorder which drastically impairs his ability to speak, impairs his ability to interact with others, and effects his interests in a way that causes him to fixate on those things you and I might find inconsequential.
I am thankful for my afternoon with P., hopefully there will be many more like it. I went expecting to chase some young boys around the backyard, get frustrated with them for playing too rough, maybe have someone blow their nose in my shirt tails and hopefully help my friend catch his breath for a moment. I left having learned some things. I always respected my friend and his devotion to both his children but especially P. but I learned a deeper respect for him. I learned what a horrible disorder autism is, how it effects not only the child inflicted with it but his brother and parents, and their every waking and many sleepless minutes. Again something that I knew but only at a very superficial level. I learned or more correctly, P. helped me remember what an awesome thing bubbles can be.
It was an unbelievably gorgeous day. The kind of day that makes you think of every other beautiful day you've experienced. The memories seem to magnify the beauty of the now. It actually got to the point where Kayos actually had to ask Gail to stop saying "what a beautiful day it was."
We arrived at my friend's house, our boys bounded out of the car and his kids came leaping out the front door of their house. After the initial confusion, we got everyone settled in the back yard to jump off swings, not swing on mind you, but jump off of and climb trees and jump on trampolines and blow bubbles, and chase bad guys. My friend decided he would use his kid-free time to hang some wall paper and cut the front lawn. It wouldn't have been my choice with a few hours of babysitting time but hey, it's his time.
My friend's 6 year old, P. is an amazing little guy; blonde 1950's crew cut, thickly built, like a little linebacker, and full of energy and enthusiasm. He and I spent most of the afternoon blowing bubbles. I held a 32oz bottle of bubble juice that he would stick the bubble wand into and blow with all his might. Whether it was a two or twenty, the bubbles were shiny and no matter what shape they came out of the wand as, they ended up as perfect spheres.
Sometimes he would chase the bubbles and step on them, sometimes he would try to catch them in his mouth. Sometimes he would release the bubbles from the wand and they would take off on little gusts of wind and we would watch them float above the trees and dissapear into the perfectly blue sky.
Gail had the other three guys well in hand. They had moved onto riding bikes and big wheels on the front sidewalk. P. and I were still in the back yard blowing bubbles. Over the course of the afternoon, P. and I exchanged maybe three or four words. We didn't really need much more than that. We had the bubbles, the breeze, the blue sky; at the moment it seemed like all we needed. Unfortunately, those are all the words P. really has. You see he suffers from autism; a disorder which drastically impairs his ability to speak, impairs his ability to interact with others, and effects his interests in a way that causes him to fixate on those things you and I might find inconsequential.
I am thankful for my afternoon with P., hopefully there will be many more like it. I went expecting to chase some young boys around the backyard, get frustrated with them for playing too rough, maybe have someone blow their nose in my shirt tails and hopefully help my friend catch his breath for a moment. I left having learned some things. I always respected my friend and his devotion to both his children but especially P. but I learned a deeper respect for him. I learned what a horrible disorder autism is, how it effects not only the child inflicted with it but his brother and parents, and their every waking and many sleepless minutes. Again something that I knew but only at a very superficial level. I learned or more correctly, P. helped me remember what an awesome thing bubbles can be.
Friday, June 02, 2006
You are what you drink
Below are my beverage personalities. Pretty accurate....
How about you?
(Ht to Subvervise influence)
How about you?
(Ht to Subvervise influence)
| You are a Black Coffee |
 At your best, you are: low maintenance, friendly, and adaptable At your worst, you are: cheap and angsty You drink coffee when: you can get your hands on it Your caffeine addiction level: high |
| You Are Guinness |
 You know beer well, and you'll only drink the best beers in the world. Watered down beers disgust you, as do the people who drink them. When you drink, you tend to become a bit of a know it all - especially about subjects you don't know well. But your friends tolerate your drunken ways, because you introduce them to the best beers around. |
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