Dishwasher Art

Doing the dishes for me is like an art form. Maybe it’s my OCD, but I take great pride in loading the dishwasher in a way that not only utilizes the space but groups items by their function. I try to leave adequate gaps between each one to allow the water and soap to cover every surface to ensure optimal cleaning. I even spread the silverware out across all of the slots, so spoons and forks don’t stick together. It actually makes unloading it easier too, because each section goes to the same place in the kitchen.

My wife on the other hand has a completely different philosophy when it comes to dishes. Her philosophy is more of “shove that crap in there.” She loads it as she goes, so things are randomly placed in whatever hole she sees first. This includes stacking things on top of things and possibly stacking things on top of those. She believes in using vertical space as well as horizontal space. So, if the rack slides back in, then it’s okay! I know it’s not wrong, per se, it’s just different. But it still feels like a chaotic mess to me. Almost like a tornado went through the dishwasher.

The Cardinal: Mate

I was premature on the cardinal situation. The stupid bird came back today and once again slammed into the window. He then proceeded to sit on the window sill and bang his head repeatedly into the glass. When I approached the window, he flew out to the fence, and that’s when I saw the female cardinal sitting on the bird feeder.

So, the reason I hadn’t seen the stupid bird for a while was that he had somehow managed to find a girl. Based on what I know of the male, either he was the last available option or the other choices seemed less desirable…which is somehow hard to imagine. Maybe she likes males who brain themselves senseless, because then she can take advantage of them to get what she wants. Either way, he was back and fighting his imaginary enemy to impress her. I can’t imagine she’d be too impressed by this display of stupidity. Perhaps, she was already starting to regret her choices. I mean, are you sure THESE are the genes you want to be passing on to your offspring?! When you realize that cardinals mate for life, it makes it even more perplexing.

The mirrors in the tree obviously are having zero effect on this stupid bird. When I brought this up to my son, he said that it’s because they are spinning…which is probably true. At one point, I saw the cardinal sitting on the ground, watching the lights dance around him. He seemed less scared of them and more just intrigued. I’m so glad I could give him another reason to enjoy coming to my yard…sarcasm implied.

Dead Air

There was a commercial on the radio this morning that said, “Have you ever thought, ‘I could do your job’? Well, prove it! Every Thursday, you get to influence the playlist.” I thought to myself, “I could probably be a DJ. Now, would I want to do that? No. But I probably could.”

As I pondered this question, I realized that I have the gift of gab. For all of my claims and even penchant for introversion, I am still able to talk with the best of them. And I’m really good at filling the silence. I don’t have to have something specific to talk about, but I can usually come up with something to say if nobody else is speaking. I have lots of great stories, and I have a wickedly strange view of things around me. I mean I will often call my mom on my 40-minute drive to my son’s daycare, and I’ll probably talk for 35 minutes of the drive. I’d like to think that my mom is enjoying the conversation and being wildly entertained, but maybe she just puts the phone down and walks away!

Really my biggest issue with public speaking is standing up in front of people and seeing their reactions or getting their feedback. But that’s not a problem with radio, because you’re just talking to “dead air.” You’re sending your words off into the ether without any clue who is listening or if they’re listening. You’re talking to fill the silence.

And then it hit me. Being a DJ is a lot like talking to my mom on the phone. Your audience is unusually quiet, so you just have to fill the dead air on your own. In fact, you’re not even sure if they’re still tuned in. But you speak with the hope that they’re enjoying your words and being wildly entertained.

Homeless Cell Phone

Near the university where my son has his daycare, there is a constant presence of homeless people begging on the corners. There is one man that I see quite often, shuffling slowly along the side of the highway feeder road, a drugged out blankness on his face, adorned in grungy clothes, and smoking a cigarette. Today, when he turned around to shuffle back to his corner, I noticed a large black cell phone in his back pocket. I could tell it was one of the newer model iPhones, and so many questions popped into my head.

If you have no money, how can you afford to buy a phone that costs several hundred dollars? How is it that you have a newer model than I have? How do you pay the monthly bill? And if you’re homeless, where do they even send the monthly bill? If you have no power, how do you charge it? And maybe the most important question is…who are you calling?!

Bum Bubbles

I poured my milk this morning and there were two large bubbles floating next to each other. They were the exact same size, and it looked like two cheeks in a bum. So, I started today being mooned by my milk. Happy Valentine’s Day to me!

The Cardinal: Kamikaze

It’s been a few days now, and there has been no sign of the cardinal. I’m not sure if he has been attacking the mirrors, and I just haven’t seen it. Or if the twirling lights actually scared him away. Either way, I’m hoping this finally resolved the issue.

UPDATE: My spousal unit informed me that the cardinal did attack the window this afternoon. Apparently, he flew into it at full speed and knocked himself unconscious. He laid on the ground for several minutes before getting up and flying away. Maybe this was his last-ditch, Kamikaze flight before he acceded defeat.

The Cardinal: Mirrors

I did it. I hung up mirrors in the tree outside to entice the stupid cardinal to take out his misplaced aggression on them instead of the window. I’m not sure if it’ll work, but if nothing else, we have a beautiful light show now when the sun reflects off the twirling mirrors.

The Cardinal: Fighting Hour

We have this stupid cardinal that keeps attacking our back window. Every day, he flies up and starts attacking his reflection in the window. Apparently, he sees the “other bird” as a rival that needs to be driven from his territory. However, unlike other territorial birds, cardinals won’t stop when they find a mate. They just keep coming back to fight!

A lot of posts online said that you can cover the window, but apparently cardinals are so aggressive, that they’ll just go pick a fight with another window! And they’ll come back every day around the same time. I’m imagining him checking the watch on his wing.

Cardinal: “It’s 1:42 pm. Time to go give that other bird a beating!”

…flies to to the window…

Cardinal: “I see you didn’t learn your lesson from yesterday. You came back for another round of thunder and lightning,” showing the reflection his wings one by one.
Reflection [mirroring the cardinal]: “…”
Cardinal: “Are you mocking me?! Put your wing down! Put it down! Stop copying me, or I’m going to give you a beating your future offspring will feel. That’s it! Reap the whirlwind!”

…Cardinal pecks at the winds several times…

Cardinal: “Take that, you swine! There’s plenty more where that came from. I suggest you don’t show up again tomorrow.”

Some of the posts suggested hanging mirrors out in the yard, so the bird would fight out there instead of attacking your windows. I liked that idea, but I’m afraid he’s so stupid that he’d leave the mirrors alone and still come to the window. Or worse yet, he’d form a gang with the “other birds” to take down his rival by the house. The next thing you know, there’s a whole flock of cardinals wearing matching leather jackets with “C-Birds” on the back, holding tiny pistols sideways at the window all thug style.

My Christmas Love

I was watching “My Christmas Love” on Hallmark today; the premise of which is that a girl has a secret admirer, and she has to figure out which one of four men it is. Three of the men are clean-shaven, and one has beard scruff. I knew right off that the three clean-shaven guys didn’t stand a chance. The funny thing is that one of the clean-shaven guys was the main love interest in another Hallmark movie, and he had beard scruff in that movie.

For some reason, Hallmark believes that the epitome of sexiness for every woman is a man with beard scruff. Even for guys that really can’t grow it, or where it looks really bad. They still force the issue. I assume this is why Hallmark has never come calling me. I can’t grow beard scruff. I can either do clean-shaven or a semblance of a full beard. There is no in between. Well, the beard thing and the fact that I’m not over six feet tall. That’s really all that’s keeping me from being a Hallmark leading man.