Am I the only one?

Seriously, am I the only one with virtually no interest in the latest adventures of Indy? I’m sure it made a crapload (damn you spellcheck – that is a word!) of money, and people will continue to fall over themselves to get to theaters whether the reviews are good, bad, or tepid; but the commercials and trailers leave me totally apathetic. The presence of the horrendous Shia LaBeouf certainly doesn’t help, but that’s not the only problem.

Maybe I should just get this out of my system right now – is Indiana Jones really that great? The first one? Absolutely! The third one? Pretty awesome! The second one? Ugh. The entire trilogy was on TV the other day and I was reminded just how mediocre The Temple of Doom was/is. That gives me zero confidence in the latest entry – especially considering the advertising has been so bland in my mind.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just getting old and cranky. But coming from someone who actually enjoyed the Star Wars prequels, the idea of a long overdue sequel just doesn’t appeal to me anymore.

Difficult decisions

Sometimes life gets pretty complicated. There are lots of options, and you have to weigh the pros and cons for all of them. Ignoring the issues just won’t make them go away. And so this morning I must decide between a free chicken biscuit (with purchase of a drink) from McDonald’s or a free iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts. College did not prepare me for challenges like this…

Wait a second… The free biscuit is from 7AM – 10:30AM while the free iced coffee is from 10AM – 10 PM. Nevermind. Decision is made. I’ve got breakfast covered, as well as an afternoon pick-me-up. Whew! I really dodged a bullet there.

Now I know sumthin’ ’bout birthin’ babies

Tonight was our last birthing class. Apparently our spawn will not remain inside The Woman forever, and will indeed come out in a somewhat disturbing… uh… I mean beautiful way. Alright, let’s face it. These days we have unlimited access to TV shows covering every conceivable scenario when it comes to giving birth – and in rather graphic detail. So by the time you make it to these classes, you should have a pretty darn good idea of what lay ahead.

Nevertheless, when going through this information – especially in video form – along with total strangers, many glances and nervous laughs will be exchanged. Sooner or later all of the men will hone in on the same thought, “Thank god it’s not me.” We just do not have the natural fortitude to handle childbirth. That’s not just me trying to score points with the misses – it’s an honest assessment. The human race would have died off long ago if the genders switched childbearing rolls.

Humorously, after watching the explicit video during the first class, it was one of the expectant mothers than turned around and said, “Did that freak you guys out?” But, to be fair, her husband might have simply been in shock.

Tonight may have been the most traumatizing personally. We covered the epidural and – holy crap – that thing looks worse than the pain. I mean, let’s get one thing straight: I’m the man. The extent of my discomfort will be lack of sleep and maybe a sore hand if she squeezes too hard. So I have absolutely no say about medication. The Woman gets what The Woman wants. But I have to admit that after seeing the epidural and hearing about the drawbacks *shudder* attempting to keep it natural has so much more appeal. Especially when it was pointed out that the husband is often kicked out of the room for it partially because he might PASS OUT… W!T!F! Are you serious? At least the videos of cesareans took my mind off that…

In all honesty, the class was pretty useful in evening out the expectations. The teacher was a birthing doula and presented all of the options in a very straightforward and unbiased way. Unfortunately that still doesn’t change the fact that… HOLY CRAP!… I’m going to be a DAD in under TWO MONTHS…

Maybe that means it’s time for me to stop posting to my blog at midnight… the again, when else will I be able to?

The dandelion crop looks good this year

Those of you who have visited my humble abode have probably noticed there’s a certain section that I’m not exactly… er… proud of. Even though we’re excited about the kitchen renovation, there’s still a certain charm to the existing one, so it’s not that. The awkward shape of our “master suite” has served us well no matter how much I’d like to expand it (well, at least raise the roof a couple feet). And despite it’s semi-frequent floods, the basement is still the site of future cool endeavors that I can pseudo-brag about…

No, the overgrown and disheveled mess that is my yard offers the most embarrassment to me. And considering that most of my neighbors spend hours every weekend outside or pay for a service to do it for them the difference is… well… you get the idea. I mean, I use a push reel mower. No, I’m not talking about a push versus riding mower, I’m talking about one of those old-fashioned manual ones with no engine. So you can see just how seriously I take the outside maintenance.

This year was going to be different, though. I think I actually mowed my lawn before anyone else. The next weekend I spent a few hours removing what appeared to be barbed wire that had grown wild in the back. But just in time for me to do more work in the front – BAM! – the water heater went. And we got lots of rain. And suddenly spring kicked into full gear. And suddenly I walk outside to find the grass not only several inches taller, but filled with hundreds of dandelions. Because, you know, I was running out of challenges around here.

Walking by the disaster zone was a tad depressing, but between work and the more pressing needs inside the house there was no time left for cleaning up. And so I can’t say it was exactly a surprise when I cam home Thursday night with enough daylight left that I decided it was time to make things right that I found this in the mail:

Mow your lawn or else!

Awesome! I was honestly threatened to have my lawn ticketed. Is that the lamest way to break the law or what? Could you imagine if they actually dragged me to court because I was working too late and didn’t want to make my pregnant wife take care of the yard? Brilliant! The funniest part is that we always wondered what it would take to get one of these notices, and knowing is half the battle… Personally I think it was the dandelions that did me in. When all was said and done, they pretty much filled a large garbage bag – I almost feel bad not making a case of wine out of them. But after they were removed, the tall field of grass that remained wasn’t that bad. Of course now that’s it’s cut, there’s a little less personality to our property…

Just kidding, the place looks a lot less white trash, and I’m sure my neighbors appreciate that. Still, there’s part of me that wants to call up about the notice and go on some rant about how my taxes pay their salary and with the ridiculous costs of living in West Orange they should be mowing my lawn for me. Where would I be without righteous indignation?

Anyway, now that the front is looking normal, I guess it’s time to toss some gasoline and a match out back to clean up the rest…