Tikkabik

For the first time since late September, our house is completely absent of children during the school day. The bus just came to pick up James, and all three children are on their way to or at school. Whee!

Posted by flargh at 08:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We have this toy music keyboard that James is compelled to turn on several times a day. In its demo mode, the keyboard is programmed to play through a series of Christmas music, including Jingle Bells.

Whenever it comes on, James is compelled to sing along.

Of course, he sings the Batman variant:

Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg
The Batmobile lost a wheel and the Joker got away, hey!

Over and over and over again.

Posted by flargh at 04:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We've had an electric stove in this house since we moved in. It's rather odd, since the house is heated by natural gas, but the stove was definitely original equipment for the house when we moved in (the house was built in the late 1980s).

Anyway, thanks to the charity of my mother and her neighbor, we're switching to gas next week. Her neighbor across the street is upgrading her appliances, which were installed by the previous owners shortly before they sold her the place -- so they're about four years old or so. And a neighbor who's a plumber by trade is willing to do the gas line install, which will save a bundle too.

It'll be great to have gas again. Prior to this house, the last two places we lived in had gas stoves, and it makes such a difference -- instant heat that is, in my experience, easier to control than electric. As I do all the cooking, this is a big deal for me, though no one else in the house has taken more than a passing interest in what I've told them.

Anyway, it looks like I'll get a Christmas/birthday present a bit early this year, which is just fine.

Posted by flargh at 12:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Robert had a friend over today. He was rifling through our collection of video games. We keep most of the console games in a big translucent storage container underneath one of the living room windows. We stack some comforters and throws on it. The cat uses it as one of his preferred napping spots.

"Oh, wow. Grand Theft Auto Vice City. Can I play this?"

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"We don't let kids play M-rated games at our house," I said.

That's true -- Robert is allowed to play T-rated games, but that's it -- and only if the rest of the content meets with our approval. The M-rated games we do have I've bought for myself.

It's often a surprise to some of my son's friends after they find out what I do for a living, that we're as restrictive as we are in letting the kids play video and computer games. It also comes as something of a disappointment to them -- they think that because Robert's dad plays games for a living (well, for part of his living, anyway), that it must be some kind of gamer's paradise. I admit, it's fun sometimes, but I don't let my children have free reign over the gaming systems in the house, not by a long stretch.

"I can play it at my house," he told me.

"This isn't your house," I said.

He kept fingering the games for a few moments longer then said, "Well, I'm not really allowed to play it at home, either. But I do sometimes."

Posted by flargh at 06:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So the news channels are reporting on a brawl in the Orlando, Fla. Wal-Mart. The annual insanity has begun: Black Friday is here. Lovely.

Today is the one day of the year (well, this and the weekend before Christmas) Bonnie and I have foresworn to stay the hell away from any mall or cluster of stores likely to attract shoppers. It's an ugly, ugly scene -- the worst of conspicuous consumerism.

Of course, the Boston Globe gave us a special holiday edition of the newspaper yesterday, chock full of circulars trumpeting Black Friday sales. Frankly, I find most of it unremarkable, even electronics, which are supposed to be the one big growth area this season. Most of the good "deals" offered by the major retailers are nested within manufacturer's rebates, or mail-in rebates to the retailer themselves -- often tying up hundreds of your dollars for weeks or months while making you jump through hoops to get it back.

After she showed me what looked like good deals on projection TVs, remote control robots and some other extravagances, I've already told Bonnie that I won't be buying anyone in our family any big-ticket items for Christmas this year, although I would like to buy us a new bed. We've been sleeping on the same mattress and box spring since before we had kids, and its age is showing -- both of us wake up with bad backaches and lower back/leg pain almost every day.

Even then, though, the deals I'm seeing in the paper are all conditional on coming in today or tomorrow, or bringing coupons with me -- screw that. I'm not up for the hassle of jockeying for a parking space and being stuck in a crowded department store with shoppers in the midst of a psychotic spending spree. I'll go when I find a good deal at a place I can bear to be at.

Otherwise, there will be no new game consoles, no new home entertainment equipment, no new frivolous electronic gadgets that bleep and bloop and generally piss me off, and none of the usual shenanigans this holiday season. We've told the kids to make their lists, and keep it to what they really, really want and need this holiday season, within reasonable limits. They understand the reality of the situation, so hopefully it'll go smoothly.

Posted by flargh at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

It's a few minutes past 10 PM and we just got home from my aunt and uncle's house; all five of us made the trip. After I consulted with her this morning, my aunt gave us the go ahead to bring Bonnie, who, while still feeling a bit gross, was not as sick as she was yesterday, and was not running a temperature.

Thanksgiving dinner was, as per usual for my family, fantastic -- a big, succulent bird, and all the trimmings, plus too many desserts. I stuffed myself silly, and Robert ate well -- Emmeline and James picked at their food, wasted more than they ate, and, of course, pigged out on the desserts.

Looks like my mother paid us a visit -- found a styrofoam container in the fridge with her handwriting on it, for Bonnie -- I had suggested to her that Bonnie might not come with us (and in truth, if she was as sick as she was yesterday, she would have stayed home). That was very thoughtful of her. If we had to leave Bonnie home, I certainly would have come home with a care package too -- that's what Bonnie did for me the time I had to take care of Emme when she had the flu on Thanksgiving.

It was nice -- it's been a while since I've had a big holiday meal with my own family. In fact, I haven't seen some of them in a couple of years.

The drive up and back, while not extraordinary, is still a bit grueling -- about 180 miles round trip. Our corporate headquarters are actually at the same highway exit as my aunt and uncle's house, and -- keeping with the theme of the day -- doing that drive always makes me profoundly thankful that I don't have to visit the corporate offices more often.

On the way we also made a side trip to visit Bonnie's mom, sister and my two nieces. Alas, we could only stay for about fifteen minutes (and as it was, we were a few minutes late for my aunt's), but it was good to see them, too. Bonnie's family has a place in Florida where her mom and dad seem to spend more time each year. They're back, for the holiday, and will remain through to the new year, when they'll go back down until spring.

Posted by flargh at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On seeing Sweet Charity, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Rockettes song and dance numbers:

This is stupid.

On seeing Chitty Chitty Bang Bang dance number:

What is this? Oh. This is stupid.

On seeing a giant clown balloon:

Aaaugh! I hate clowns!

On seeing the Tom Turkey float:

It would be cool if there was a Tom Penguin float.

On seeing teen pop act B5 perform:

This is unneeded.

On suffering through another banal music number related to Barbie's "The Magic of Pegasus" float:

I'm waiting for Spongebob and Pikachu.

On seeing kids in sailor outfits dancing:

This is more stupid than the kids in pajamas dancing.

Posted by flargh at 10:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Weirdest ad I'm seeing on TV right now: Wendy's "Rock Your Burger" ad, featuring Benny Benassi's "Satisfaction," and a whole bunch of Wendy's burgers looking like the bars on a spectrum analyzer.

Posted by flargh at 08:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Took the Frickin' Van (part deux) to the shop today for some overdue maintenance.

I had an oil change done -- that alone I'd got about 2,000 miles past the recommended service interval, but it's been a tough couple of months, so I needed to postpone it. I also knew when I got in there that I should replace the front tires and get it inspected -- it was due at the end of July.

Of course, they always find something. This time it was the front brake pads that needed replacement -- no surprise, as I had been told they were down to about 30 percent in the spring. Still, it was a $400 service after all was said and done -- then another $29 to have the car inspected at another service center up the road, who I trust to do the inspection, but not to service the car.

Outside of the oil change, which I'd just procrastinated on, frankly, it was the classic domino theory at work -- I suspected the brakes needed work, I knew the inspection had to be done, and I knew that the van wouldn't pass inspection without a fresh pair of front tires, as they were pretty bald. So I knew the $29 inspection was going to be more like $149 after all was said and done, factoring the cost of the tires.

Anyway, with all this done, the van should be good for the long trek to my aunt's in Framingham tomorrow, which it looks like I'll have to do solo with the kids, as Bonnie is ill.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Posted by flargh at 05:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

With Black Friday only a few days from now, my SAD is kicking up into high gear.

God, I hate this time of year.

I hate the conspicuous consumerism.

I hate the holiday displays in the malls.

I hate the corny music.

I hate it getting dark at 4:30 in the afternoon.

I hate the cold.

I hate the very idea of snow.

I hate the smell of balsam.

Hate, hate, hate.

Bah, humbug.

Posted by flargh at 12:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Just wanted to relay a positive story about tech support -- something of a rarity these days.

Bonnie has used a Canon LIDE 50 scanner on her iMac for some time now. It gets rather heavy use, as she uses it to copy documents we receive from the school about our kids' education, interesting passages from reference guides and manuals she borrows that are special education-related, and more. I even use it occasionally, when I need to fax someone a release form or something similar.

The other night it stopped working, and it was my fault. I noticed in a moment of boredom that the version of the driver and scan software she had installed was earlier than the current version on the Web site, so I downloaded and installed it -- partly because the Web site indicated that it was safe for Tiger, which we'll be migrating that iMac to soon (it hasn't been yet, because it only has 256MB RAM).

Anyway, long story short, I installed the driver and scan software and discovered that the scanner didn't work. The software would quit each time -- even Photoshop Elements, which works with a plug-in, wouldn't work.

I uninstalled the software. Reinstalled it. Nothing would work. I hit Canon's Web site, and discovered that they offer toll-free tech support by phone until 12 AM (Midnight) Eastern on the weekdays.

It was about 11:15PM.

I got through to a live person in only a couple of minutes, who then spent another minute or two tracking down a Mac technician. They spoke English (natively), were actually located on the East Coast, and the tech I spoke to was polite, courteous, knowledgable, and had my problem fixed in about five minutes.

As it turns out, Canon's installer software is really cruddy, and I suppose one could criticize them for that -- it really does need work. So we had to manually pull some old files from the root directory's Library folder before the installer would work. Once we did, it worked just fine.

Anyway, the LIDE 50 is working again, with the new software.

Posted by flargh at 12:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This morning we were in Falmouth Trial Court, again for a hearing about Robert's incident with his teacher in September.

We got there at 8:30, and waited around until about 10:15 or so before they called our docket number. By then, our attorney had already talked with the District Attorney, who made clear to him that they would continue this matter until January.

In other words, nothing happened. It's quite frustrating.

Falmouth Trial Court is an interesting facility, in a surreal, Terry Gilliam/Brazil-sort of way.

It's housed inside an old National Guard depot -- a large brick structure that has a huge sliding garage door on one end, presumably to let through tanks, half tracks or whatever else they stored in there.

You can see the outside architecture when you're in the building, and the ceiling is actually quite pretty stained hardwood planks. The arched ceiling and the hardwood gives the impression of the hull of a boat.

But inside, the state has built a courtroom, offices and cubicles out of prefabricated construction materials -- it's almost a building within a building, with self-contained walls, ceilings and floors, all visible from the lobby and corridors that run down the length of each side.

It's all very bizarre. It seems that no attempt was made to integrate the court's design into the architecture of the building -- as if the state simply had this facility available, and used whatever resources they had on hand to graft a courthouse inside of it. Which I'm sure isn't very far from the truth.

Our overachieving son was easily the youngest person in the lobby today by five or six years. Most were there on juvenile matters, and most looked to be at least 15 or 16 years old.

Posted by flargh at 12:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"Notice they do not fly so much as plummet." - Graham Chapman as a sheep farmer, in a Monty Python skit about sheep with dreams of aviation.

A Harris Interactive poll shows that Bush's approval rating is at 34 percent, and Vice President Cheney at 30 percent, according to a report in the Wall Street Journal.

In fact, just about everyone in government is watching their approval ratings dip into the toilet.

Good.

Posted by flargh at 07:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"Did you know," said James gravely last night, "That you don't own a cat? The cat owns you."

"Yes," I said. We all know how imperious and haughty cats can get. Enough so that we joke that Max thinks of us as the slave family: Slave-man, slave-woman, slave-boy, slave-girl and little slave-boy.

"No, daddy," said Robert. "The cat owns you. I mean, he 0wnz you. Fear his leet skillz."

Posted by flargh at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Nothing new to report on the Robert/school front -- we're largely in a holding pattern, probably through the end of the week, which is his court date.

He's also been a bit under the weather for the past couple of days (running a slight fever), so he hasn't been able to go to his tutor.

Posted by flargh at 06:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So despite the novacaine, bright lights, light boxes and bite wing X-rays, oral surgery in the 21st century isn't markedly different than dentristry since the middle ages, as far as tooth extractions are concerned. It's still essentially a guy standing on your chest with a pair of pliers in your mouth yanking a tooth out of your jaw.

When I got home I was reminded of one reason why I had kids: So I could gross them out with the bloody socket where the bad molar used to be and shout, "Brush your teeth!"

Posted by flargh at 07:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

To sleep, perchance to dream...


Originally uploaded by flargh.

He is my cat. He is supposedly the family cat, but really, he's my cat.



No matter how badly my day may suck, petting him for a little while can make me feel better.



That means a lot.

Posted by flargh at 08:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've been grinding my teeth a lot in my sleep lately. I used to do it when I was a kid, and I've been doing it more lately. I expect because of stress. Bottom line is that I've been waking up with a sore jaw for weeks.

As if our problems with Robert and school (and the myriad other problems in our life which I thankfully keep off these pages) weren't enough, I woke up one day last week missing a big chunk in one of my molars -- at some point during the night the tooth broke, and took a big chunk of filling with it. I must have swallowed it in my sleep, because I didn't find anything on the pillow or mattress. I've also been getting some unusual jaw pain on the other side of my mouth.

Finally got to see the dentist this morning -- he took a look at my mouth, took a couple of x-rays and declared that the broken tooth needed to be extracted. What's more, that jaw pain? A periodontal abcess, he tells me.

I made an appointment with the oral surgeon he referred me to, for tomorrow. Should be fun -- just in time for a user group meeting I've been looking forward to, where I was going to do a games presentation. I e-mailed the guy who invited me and told him I may be a no-show tomorrow. Guess it depends on how I'm feeling.

Posted by flargh at 12:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"My two favorite sports to watch on TV are hockey and racing cars." - James

Reminds me of another guy named James I know.

Posted by flargh at 07:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

So yesterday morning was mostly spent at Robert's new school, and if all goes as planned he'll begin on Wednesday of next week. We spent the bulk of the time hammering together his IEP, which describes in some level of detail the special services he'll be receiving, such as counseling, academic accommodations, the criteria upon which his performance will be measured and other related materials.

I'm expecting a call sometime today instructing us to come down to his former school -- which still maintains him as an enrolled student, even though they're paying for services elsewhere -- to sign the IEP and get this ball rolling.

After a quick lunch, we headed up to the lawyer's office, and he seems like he's quite knowledgeable in this area. About 80 percent of his practice is dedicated to special ed-related cases, so he knows the ins and outs of the system in the state. He'll help us initially with the judicial end of this -- trying to find a mutually satisfactory solution to the charges brought against Robert -- and he'll also help us on the educational advocacy end of things.

Through just a cursory examination of the documentation we showed him yesterday, he found numerous procedural violations that deserved further scrutiny; he's also recommended we get in touch with the Department of Education's Quality Assurance group to file a complaint against the school.

Thanks to the way the courts in this state work, it seems remote that we'd have a successful civil complaint against the school, and it's even more unlikely that we'd get any sort of monetary damages unless we were able to prove that they had it out for Robert -- that they were intentionally and maliciously denying him services because they disliked him or us.

As I said yesterday, never attribute to malice what can adequately be explained by stupidity -- or, at the very least, bureaucratic incompetence. And it seems to him that there's plenty of that to go around.

So we will definitely try to go through the right channels here and, at the very least, try to hold them accountable for their actions.

Posted by flargh at 10:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

The day that Bonnie and I have, frankly, not been looking forward to: In about an hour and a half we'll do the placement meeting for Robert's new school. Then, later on today, we meet with an attorney who specializes in special education law to find out what else we can be doing.

The fellow who we'll be working with was recommended to us by an advocacy group up in Boston; he knows the ins and outs of special ed law and of the juvenile court system in this area, so he's a double threat.

I had a long talk with him earlier this week, and he sounds like he's working off the same page as Bonnie and me -- we talked of similar observations about how the state handles (and abrogates responsibility for) special education, in particular where the problem is related to behavioral issues and brain disorders.

He gave me some further insight into why the school may have filed a police report for the incident involving Robert and his teacher, which they were certainly not obliged to do under current law. Apparently it puts them in a better position to have Robert remanded to DYS if there's ever another conduct incident. This would have the effect of removing him from the school's rolls all together, in essence, making him someone else's problem.

When the principal called the other day (on other business related to my daughter, who's also involved in the special ed program), he actually had the audacity to ask me, "Did we do the right thing with Robert?"

Honestly, I don't think he's clever enough to act that disingenuous, and by now he certainly knows I'm no fool.

I think he's genuinely bureaucratically incompetent enough to think that he was acting in Robert's best interest by setting this in motion.

It's a simple variation on Occam's Razor: Never attribute to malice what can adequately be explained by stupidity.

Posted by flargh at 08:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)