Stuff Only I Care About XXX: Special Christmas Edition

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Panthers

The Panthers had their asses handed to them by the Steelers last weekend, 37-3. In order to keep their extremely slim playoff hopes alive, they must win at Atlanta this weekend.

Which they won't.

It's time to start looking at draft position.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Jonathon goes the extra mile for the perfect Christmas gift for his daughter.
• Kristen discusses religion with her son.
• Steve has a thing for Captain Feathersword.
• The Weirdgirl publishes her 2006 Gift Wrapping Guide.
  

The Obligatory Xmas Crap

Zoey's Christmas program went off without a hitch (other than the cow accidentally tripping the shepherd). Once they showed her the costume she would be wearing, she was sold. All that worrying about Mary for nothing!

I finally feel like a real parent: we got our first crying-on-Santa's-lap picture this year! On one knee sat a beaming Zoey. On the other knee sat a red-faced, terror-stricken, crying Zed. Too bad we didn't take them to see Santa earlier; it would've made a great Xmas card.

Last year at this time, we were celebrating Chrismupchuckkah. This year, the kids are barking like little seals. But I can deal with that. As long as I'm not mopping up pools of vomit, it'll be a great Christmas.

Have a great holiday! I hope you're able to spend it with those who matter most to you.

Song of the day: Merry Christmas Everybody by Slade

Interpretive Dance With The Unwashed

I don't know how, but I made it almost thirty-seven years without seeing The Nutcracker or having any idea of what it's about (other than, you know, a nutcracker). See? Being an uncultured redneck has its advantages, folks.

I had also never been to the ballet. Both those streaks came screeching to a halt on Saturday afternoon as Zoey and I went on a date to a special children's version of The Nutcracker.

The preshow festivities were nice. The children were encouraged to come an hour early and meet the performers. The actors signed autographs in the booklets the children were given when they entered the theater. Zoey was quite timid at first; I think the costumes were freaking her out a bit.

But she warmed up when a Junior-Diva-In-Training, a snotty little eight-year-old girl, marched up to us, snatched the autograph book from Zoey's hand, and said, "Let me give you my autograph!" Snap!

After that, Zoey went up to every little girl or woman who looked remotely like a ballerina or a princess and asked for her autograph. But she ignored the guys. During the past month or so, boys, especially men, have become yucky. With the exception of me, thankfully.

Soon, it was time for us to take our seats for the performance. Or as I now refer to it, Q&A With Daddy.

Zoey: Why aren't they talking?
Me: Ballerinas don't talk.

Zoey: Why aren't they singing?
Me: Ballerinas don't sing.

Zoey: What is the pirate doing? (Sorry, but anyone wearing an eye patch is a pirate in my daughter's eyes.)
Me: Sprinkling fairy dust.
Zoey: Why?
Me: I don't know.
Zoey: Is he a good guy?
Me: I don't know.

Zoey: What's going on?
Me: I don't know.

And I still don't. Here's what I think happened at The Nutcracker:

There's a party. Some guy (good guy? bad guy? pirate?) sprinkles fairy dust that freezes everyone. He puts presents on the floor. He then sprinkles more fairy dust and everybody starts moving again. A small girl opens a package that contains a nutcracker toy. The party ends and she goes to bed. She wakes up and all her toys have come to life and are dancing around. Some evil rats come along and stab the nutcracker. The pirate guy sprinkles more fairy dust and turns the nutcracker into a boy/man. The girl and nutcracker boy fall in love and watch a lot of people dance. Then she wakes up with the nutcracker next to her, only it's a toy once again.

Was it a dream? A bad hit of LSD? Who the hell knows?

As you can see, I'm not too well versed in your fancy-schmancy interpretive dance stuff. Like I've said before, you can take the family out of Wal-Mart, but that doesn't make them cultured.

Stuff Only I Care About XXIX

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Panthers

After last week's debacle, I really don't feel like talking about the Panthers. While they're not technically out of the playoffs, it's looking pretty grim.

This Truly May Be Stuff Only I Care About

In a post on his website, Axl Rose announced a tentative March 6, 2007 release date for Chinese Democracy. I realize that Chinese Democracy has been rumored to be released for the past seven years or so, but this is the first time they've given an actual date, so I'm pretty psyched.

I'm Famous

Guess what? I was named Time magazine's Person Of The Year. Seriously. I went to their site today and saw I had won the honor. I'm just waiting for the phone call regarding the photo shoot.

Don't believe me? Click here.

Babble On

Babble debuted earlier this week and is really off to a great start. The thing I l-o-v-e about Babble is that, unlike most parenting sites and publications, it's not geared exclusively primarily toward women. Babble knows that Dads exist! Cool.

Babble was also smart enough to give Rebecca from Girl's Gone Child her own section, Straight From The Bottle. Anything that puts her words in front of more eyeballs is a good thing.

They've also got this daily blog called Strollerderby (think BloggingBaby, only funnier) that features some of my favorite bloggers.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Bite My Cookie welcomes her son Zach into the world.
• Danny's daughter notices his shortcomings.
• Julie pens an ode to holiday advertising.
• Mrs. Fortune has a suggestion for the Salvation Army.
  

My Daughter, The Diva

As I was unpacking Zoey's backpack while she was napping, I came across a note from her teachers. Apparently, Zoey is set to play one of the Three Wise Men (only it has been changed to the Three Wise People) in her preschool's upcoming Christmas production. One might think she would have told me about this on the way home from school, but as I often say, she operates under the "What Happens In Preschool, Stays In Preschool" philosophy.

While she and Zed were eating their afternoon snack, I said to her, "I hear you're going to be one of the Three Wise People in your Christmas program!"

Zoey: What?
Me: Three Wise People. You're going to be one of the Three Wise People.
Zoey: No I'm not.
Me: That's what this note says. I showed her the note like she knows how to read or something. I'm a moron.
Zoey: I DON'T WANT TO BE A WISE PEOPLE!
Me: Wise means you're smart. Don't you want to be smart? Don't you want to be one of the Wise People?
Zoey: NO!
Me: Who do you want to be?
Zoey: Mary. What the hell was I thinking? Of course she wanted the female lead!
Me: Who's Mary?
Zoey: Jesus' Mommy.

And then she gave me a look that said, "Dumbass! Maybe you should be the one in preschool!"

Me: No, I mean which kid gets to be Mary?
Zoey: I don't know. I want to be Mary!

Great. Should be an interesting program. Considering that she's argued with other kids, kissed a girl, and flashed the audience at past programs, if she's going into the program with this kind of attitude, all hell might break loose.

GHS: 3

Related:
The Gratingest Show On Earth
Why Do I Even Bother Bringing The Camcorder To These Things?

The Lovely Mrs. Davis Is Slumming Today

For those of you who haven't been following her series, The Lovely Mrs. Davis has invited certain bloggers and children's music artists to share albums from their Christmas collections with her readers. Since she was well aware of my vast musical knowledge, which includes the Xmas genre, she immediately asked me to contribute. Upon hearing of this, I begged and pleaded with her to let me join in her reindeer games until she finally gave in.

So if you're interested, you can read my installment, Elvis Was My Gateway Drug, a look at four albums that belong in everyone's Christmas music collections. And since I can't write about music without mentioning my beloved hair bands, an album of hair band Xmas tunes is included. Rock!

Stuff Only I Care About XXVIII

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Panthers

Bad: The Panthers lost to the lowly Eagles on Monday night, 27-24. It was a game they should have easily won. But didn't.

But I'm slowly getting used to that (re: Minnesota, Cincinnati, and Washington).

Worse: The Panthers have lost two games in a row, evening their record at 6-6. They are tied with the Giants, Eagles, and Falcons for the two wild-card spots.

Oh Hell No: Chris Weinke will be the starting QB for Sunday's game against the New York Giants. Stick a fork in them.

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Tar Heels

Roy Williams recorded his 500th victory as a head coach in the Heels' 94-69 drubbing of High Point University. Wake me in January when ACC play begins.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Amy wonders where to draw the line when it comes to movie ratings.
• Danny has a titillating experience at a children's music concert.
• Kristen's family ushers in the season of peace.
• Mrs. Fortune publishes the indispensable Fortune Guide To Gift-Giving.
• Wendy prepares for her first Christmas tree.

Youthful Idiocy: Christian Rock (Before There Was Such A Thing)

Part 5 of a 14,389,003-part series that serves as a reminder that every time one of my kids does something dumb, I've done something dumber.

I cannot be sure what you are about to read is entirely true since I was five when it happened. Since it's one of those stories my mom likes to drag out to embarrass me, it feels like I remember it.

We were in church on a snowy, pre-Christmas Sunday morning. Attendance was poor that day, but since we only lived a block away from church, we had no excuse not to be there.

At one point, the choir director stood at the pulpit and announced, "We're going to sing Joy To The World. Please turn to page 120 in your hymnals."

My mom said I jumped to my feet and started beaming. As soon as the organ started, I belted out, "JEREMIAH WAS A BULLFROG!!!"

Yup. I started singing Three Dog Night instead of the Christmas hymn. Does this mean I'm going to Hell eventually?

Addendum: My mother really should not have been surprised or embarrassed when this event took place. We lived in a sleepy little mill town and there wasn't much to do. So every Saturday night, they took me with them to the local VFW while they had a few beers. I passed the time by standing on the stage, singing into a rubber snake to the tunes coming out of the jukebox. Customers would regularly give me quarters and sodas (which I'm sure I thought was cool as hell). I was the VFW's house band. Kind of sad, no?

And before you pass judgment on my parents for taking me to a bar when I was a small child and allowing me to drink sodas all night, remember this: it was the 70s. People didn't know any better. It's a wonder they didn't let me smoke.

So folks, teach your children well. And don't expose them to Three Dog Night.

More Youthful Idiocy:
The Haunted Forest
Fish In A Barrel
The Fifth Grade Flea Market In A Bag
The Great Playboy Heist

I Need A Life

Today, Zed and I went to the grocery store while Ella and Zoey stayed home to do the things they do when we're not around (mostly, art projects). Apparently the manager at the grocery store has been reading my site, because they've totally replaced all their shopping carts! Which means, at least for a week or so, all the child restraints are still operational. Woo-hoo!

The shopping carts were so new, the restraints were still buckled. I giddily pushed Zed around in a cart had not been defiled by toddler ass (a wet dream for a germaphobe like me). We wandered around the store, looking for more new and exciting things.

We came to the new-and-improved Free Sugar Cookies For Kids display. They still had the sugar cookies for the children, but beside them were reduced-fat sugar cookies for the adults.

Between the new carts and the reduced-fat sugar cookies, I was so excited I had to call Ella. She did not share my enthusiasm. After we hung up, it hit me what I had just done: I had called my wife to tell her about the new shopping carts and reduced-fat sugar cookies at our grocery store. Like it was Christmas or something.

WHAT HAVE I BECOME?