Kids vs. Flashlights problem

You may know that the following is an immutable law within the "kid universe": Kids love flashlights, but flashlights hate kids.

That's because kids destroy flashlights. Well, they don't really destroy them, they just render them inoperative. And I guess more specifically it's really the batteries that hate the kids, and as well they should.

If I may be so bold as to give some vital advice to parents who are new to having young kids, here it is. For your own benefit I strongly suggest not spending time and energy trying to fight the kids/flashlight problem. It'll just frustrate the hell out of you.

Trust me, I've been though it. Your first instinct of course is to try to hide the flashlights. Look, even if you could remember where you hid them in the first place, which you won't, this strategy does not work anyway: Kids find. Kids turn on. Kids leave on, hidden in the far corners of your home, to die.

What's the magical solution you ask? It comes from the world of Zen.

My friend, you need to emotionally accept and be at peace with the fact that regardless of how many flashlights you own and have stocked in your house (with brand new batteries) they won't work when you need them. Thus the metaphysical reality is that YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FLASHLIGHTS.

So repeat after me. "I don't have any flashlights, and I'm just fine with that, and it feels great!"

Note to my friend Karma

Dear Karma,
Why did you let an amoeba kill this girl? I guess she had it coming. What goes around comes around -- right? On second thought, never mind. And you know what Karma, why don't you just go ahead and stick it where the sun don't shine? Thanks!!
Your friend,
Dan
P.S. Same goes for you -- yeah you, the meathead who keeps espousing that, "We create our own reality." Take care!

The piano bench vs. the idiot.

If you've been reading my blog, by now you know that I've got a lot of gumption. I'm a risk taker. You only have one life to live, and I'm going for it!

Here's a good example -- just happened to me yesterday morning: So I walk down the stairs and I see the piano bench in the middle of the living room -- perpendicular to the piano too by the way. Also, looks like the 4 year old had opened it, thrown the music books on the ground, closed it, and left the room.

Yes, I'm going to have to tidy things up here to be sure, but it's not going to be that easy. To put the sheet music away I need to open the piano bench, somehow, with insufficient information: I have no idea which side the hinges are on.

Sure, I can be a total weeny about it, play it safe, get down on my belly, peer up at the bottom of the bench to see what I'm dealing with -- but that's not how I roll.

In order to win in this world you have to be willing to put yourself into a position where losing is a distinct possibility. And that's exactly what I did. I walked up to the bench, manned up, put my hand under one side and pulled. The bench opened and the thrill of victory shot through me.

But Dan, I'm sure you'll ask, what if you had picked the hinged side? Of course we'll never truly know the answer to that one, but listen up and write this one down. You learn more from your mistakes than you ever would from when you're not mistaken. See, I set myself up for that kind of outcome. It's win/win either way for Dan Green.

Coffee Conundrum

Here's something I find really puzzling. Every morning it's the same thing. I wake up and I start drinking coffee. It tastes great! I keep drinking it as I'm reading the paper or working on the computer -- and I love it. At some point I notice I have to go and spend a few minutes in the bathroom. When I come back, it's like, now I have no interest in coffee at all.

Do you think I should email the coffee marketers' association? They should probably know about this.

"Satan Is A Nerd" T-shirt

So I'm with my daughters at their elementary school Thursday night for open house and I see this little boy there with a tee shirt that says, "Satan Is A Nerd," and I thought: well that's kind of silly.

However, after reflecting on it a bit I thought, you know what, it's probably true. I mean clearly he's good with computers. Just look at the internet, lord knows it's filled with porno sites (many with really nicely-done functionality by the way), and that can't just be a big coincidence, right?

Grass problem

I can't believe how history so quickly repeats itself. I have a big problem right now and it's exactly the same problem as I remember my parents had. (Difference is, I'm actually doing something about it. Ah, you hear that Mom and Dad? What I concept, I know!)

So we have a swing set in our back yard and, sure enough, under each swing the grass has been removed by little swinging feet. Of course, those little oval dirt patches make my back yard look like crap. And yes, I've talked to my kids about their swinging technique -- exactly when to kick the legs out and then back and so forth -- but to no avail.

Oh, I know what you're going to say. Just try wrapping the kids' feet up in saran wrap to reduce the friction from the bottoms of their feet? Oh my god -- you don't think I already tried that?? It didn't work at all and I had to bring little Emily to the emergency room because I wrapped the rubber band around her ankles so tight it cut off the circulation.

I'm currently devising a strategy for raising the entire swing set,which I'm sure will solve the problem, but I can't find cinder blocks to match the wood of our fence. (Again, aesthetics are extremely important to me.) Which reminds me by the way that my stupid kids (yes I said stupid) actually suggested simply raising the swings to accommodate for their growth. Jesus H. -- how naive! Hey Danielle and Annie: 1) I know you guys don't know jack squat about physics yet but a shorter swing reduces the velocity/fun/purpose of the swing itself. 2) Having a swing set with unusually short chains on the swings makes me look like the neighborhood jackass!

You know what, I think I'm working myself into a frenzy here for no good reason. I'm just going to ban them from using the swing set, period. Tell them to go inside and watch TV. Problem solved. See that Mom and Dad?!!

What if we are Plinko chips and Bob Barker is God?

What if we are Plinko chips and Bob Barker is God? (Well, I mean highly sophisticated and evolved Plinko chips, but Plinko chips nevertheless.)

As Plinko chips, we have a mission -- to reach the $10,000 slot at the bottom. To personalize the metaphor to you specifically, just substitute the words "$10,000 slot at the bottom" for your financial, spiritual, familial, health-related (etc.) goal.

As you "choose your path" down the board you keep getting closer and closer. Hey, almost there! You come to the last peg, you are deflected, and you land in the -0- slot at the bottom.

You are saddened now but you say, "I am a Plinko chip after all. That last peg hit me slightly to the left of my center, that means I go right."

Then Bob Barker says, "Oh, I see, someone brought their excuse making machine with them today. Those are best used on Press Your Luck -- down the hall. I think B.F. Skinner is sitting in for Peter Tomarken as guest host today."

And deep down of course you know he's right. You are a useless Plinko chip.